Day2
When Agnes woke in the morning, there was a body next to hers. She had a light sleep and would have noticed her husband moving back to their, or in the last months, her bed. They had had a disagreement a few days after her birthday, a usual one happening when she sided with one of her sons instead of her husband- which in her opinion she did by far too rarely. The disagreement usually consisted out of her husband avoiding her and refusing to talk to her for a few days. A situation she absolutely detested; it rendered her completely powerless. No chance to clarify the situation, no chance to find what the mistake or misunderstanding was that caused her husband to shut her out, no chance for apologies or amendments. Two decades of marriage had taught her that she just had to sit his mood out till he decided to open communication again. Usually if he needed something from her. This time was somehow different. A camping bed had arrived a week into the silence treatment and he had moved into his study, where he locked himself in for most of the time. He continued very demonstratively to leave any room she entered and not to enter any room she was in. He had even stopped talking to the children.
So, if not her husband than it meant the Englishman, Theo, from yesterday and like yesterday. Oh crap. He had to leave immediately. And as much as she had enjoyed the unusual situation (she relished in any out of the routine events), and his company (he was charming, witty and really pleasant to be around), and was amused by their exchange of messages yesterday, she really did not have time to deal with this weird situation today. Seriously, there seemed to be no explanation for his present and Agnes was tempted to agree with his (albeit meant as a joke, of course) assessment that there was magic in play. And there was no way to know how her husband would react to a man in her bed. Badly, that is for sure. She had never cheated in all the years of marriage, which she always referred to as not good, probably, but very stable.
She tapped the shoulder next to her lightly.
“Vake up, Theo. You have to leave.”
She whispered. The man grunted and turned around. Agnes switched on the torchlight of her mobile phone. Theo (as she had correctly guessed) shielded his eyes from the light and sat up abruptly. He had a wooden stick in his hand pointing at her and a frightened expression in his face. Strange.
“Theo, please get up and leave de flat, before anyone notices dat you are here.”
“Why do you do this? What do you want from me?” Theo demanded, albeit in a whisper.
“I vant you to get out and I am doing dis so my husband does not see you. Please.” She hissed more than whispered. “If you vant ve could meet dis afternoon. I manage maybe 2 hours to skip off. Let’s talk about dis situation den. Ve can arrange a meeting point via messaging. Leave please.”
Agnes was aware that she was less begging than commanding, but whyever the man had been again in her bed this morning and was now holding a wooden stick as one would expect a weapon held and was all tense, she needed him out of here. Immediately.
Theo looked a bit confused for a moment, but then lowered the stick, got up, dressed in a hurry and was out of the door within a few minutes.
On her way to the bathroom she listened carefully for any sounds when passing her husband’s study. -but the room was dark and completely silent.
Maybe they had succeeded a second time. Agnes was relieved. She closed the bathroom door before switching on the light. The scent of chamomiles surrounded her while she was lathering shampoo into her hair. She tried for a moment to remember what the Englishman had smelled like. Very little, if she thought about it. Clearly nothing offensive, neither cigarettes, bad fats, garlic, sweat or any signs of poor hygene. Maybe traces of soap. When she was back in the bedroom, draped in a towel she hesitated for a moment, but then decided she had to check in case there would be an obvious smell of man in her bed. She sniffed at the pillow where Theo’s head had lain and underneath the blanket. Nothing. She also checked for presence of eventual single dark hairs, which would be difficult to explain, with her hair being blond, and her husband’s and sons’ hair being much shorter than the shoulder length locks on the Englishman’s head.
Feeling reassured about the absence of any evidence that a man had been in her bed this morning, Agnes dressed and busied herself with the preparation of breakfast for her family.
A message arrived on her mobile
>>When can we talk?<<
She hesitated. Maybe, if she managed to rearrange the meeting with one of her students…better to deal with the ‘Theo situation’ ASAP.
>>I would manage this morning around 8:30. Same location than last time. Will you be able to find it?<<
>>I am already there.<<
>>Ok, I might manage earlier. See you.<<
As soon as her sons had left for school and her husband for work, Agnes made her way to the local café. She did not know how to prepare for this. The situation was so ridiculously crazy, no explanation possible and if it would not have happened a second time, she was sure she would have with time believed having imagined all of it.
When she arrived at the bottom of the staircase at the piazza where the cafè was situated she could immediately make out the Englishman, being much taller than the local population. He was sitting at a table in the sunshine, eyes closed, legs stretched out and clearly basking in the sunshine. Good for him, he really had very pale skin, and seemed overall not an outdoorsy kind of person, judging from the crisp shirt, the expensive looking sweater and leather shoes. He actually was looking more like a lawyer or banker than a thesis writing physicist. Maybe he had lied. But why? Wouldn’t one expect the opposite, a student pretending to have a lucrative job be the more obvious situation? On the other hand, there was the long hair-given, it looked well-groomed like the rest of him- and the fact that he had used a stick when feeling threatened. What was that all about?
He must have sensed her stare, because he opened his eyes, adjusted his sitting position to a more alert stance and waved the waiter. By the time Agnes reached the table he had gotten up and offering a chair to sit on, in a gentlemanly manner that she had only seen in films, but that had in all the fifty years of her life never been directed towards her. The gesture seemed so out of place, from a different time period, societal status or culture.
“I have ordered a cappuccino and croissant for you. I hope that is alright.”
“Thank you very much, I really appreciate your thoughtfulness. I feel a bit out of my depth here, I am not used to dis kind of treatment.”
“What do you mean?”
“The offering a chair and preemptive ordering. Like a vas a lady of high society a hundred years ago. You behave in a very unusual manner.”
Theo stared at her disbelieving.
“I still don’t understand. Which part of my manners was out of place?”
Agnes laughed out loud. Which, as she was used to, drew a lot of attention. With a mother a trained singer, she knew that the laugh was loud and ringing in the way church bell chimes were.
“It is de fact dat dere are manners at all.”
She smiled.
“My grandparents vere of an aristocratic family, however, completely impoverished by de first vorld var. Dey vere raising me. Dey tried to teach me manners befitting of a lady of vhat she called ‘good family’. You are the first person I meet vhere I have the impression that deir teachings could actually be applicable to real life situations.”
She saw the puzzlement in Theo’s face. Then the cappuccino arrived. She thanked the waiter.
“Could ve please now have a discussion on our situation? Who are you, really? I mean you are not a PhD student. Too old, too affluent. vhat do you vant with me?”
“Sorry, you mean what do you want from me? It is, after all, your bed in which I have now woken up already twice.”
“Vithout having been invited into.”
“I know you are a Szeged witch, so don’t pretend with me.”
He had again the stick in his hands.
“Vhat do you vant with dis stick? And Szeged vitch? Are you crazy? Vhich kind of accusation is dat?”
“What do I do with you? You are really convincing as muggle. I believe that you are a muggle. But this is actually the proof, isn’t it? You can make me believe you.”
Agnes was just confused. What is this man talking about? But then she saw in Theo’s eyes that he had made up his mind on something, he gripped her arm and suddenly the world transformed into a swirl.
When Agnes regained consciousness she found herself lying on a sofa, unable to move. She looked onto a ceiling with an enormous crystal chandelier. Lighted with candles instead of light bulbs. At the corner of her vision she could make out the top row of ceiling high bookshelves, full with what looked like centuries’ old books, some of them rather deserving of the description ‘tomes’. She could her a man talking, a nasal voice.
“Are you completely crazy, Theo. You kidnapped her. I told you to inform the DMLE. Now it is too late, we have to figure out a way how to solve this situation.”
“Sorry, I panicked after I woke up in her bed again.”
She recognized Theo’s voice.
“And I really believe her about being a muggle, that is why I think this believe is manipulated.”
“Sorry guys, but this makes no sense.”
This was clearly a third man. The voice deep and rich.
“She has no wand. Theo, you said that you have not seen her reaching for a wand even when you threatened her with one. And that she called it stick. Should this not all point to her being a muggle?”
“But Szeged witches are manipulators of emotions and believes.”
The nasal voice again.
“Who knows, maybe they don’t need wands?”
“She is awake.”
This was Theo again.
“You see, I was aware of it. She influences me even under Petrificus totalis.”
“If this is the case than there is no point in keeping her immobilized. She has no wand, we outnumber her and her dangerous powers -according to Theo- work even in immobilised state.”
The rich voice was teasing.
“Fine, Blaise, you have a point. Fine incantatem.”
The nasal voice conceded, but in a clipped way.
Agnes found that she was suddenly able to move and sat up. She let her gaze move over the three men. There was Theo, the tallest, gangly, pale with his dark hair messy. Leaning on a massive wooden desk that seemed centuries old. The man next to him was a near albino, white-blond hair, light blue eyes, thin lips, pointy chin, shorter than Theo, but much more athletic looking, slim like a runner. A lot of women would find him attractive. Agnes did not like him on the spot, he seemed very tense and looked at her with disgust. The other was olive skinned, of a shorter and more robust statue with dark curly hair with a speckle of grey, large dark eyes and full lips. Very beautiful. Probably of Mediterranean origin. Relaxed stance. With the air of a playboy. All three men seemed to be in their fourties. Agnes automatically assigned the nasal voice to the albino and the rich voice to Mr Dark Beauty. What a group. The common denominator seemed to be the very expensive looking clothing and shoes. And rather ostentatious rings. Featuring huge precious stones. Gaudy. Agnes did not doubt for a moment that the stones were real. Considering the rest of the attire and the atmosphere of old money that oozed from the furniture and books in the room.
All three were pointing sticks at her.
“Gentlemen, I think you owe me some explanations-vhere am I? Vhat time is it? Oh my god, vhat day? I have a job, 2 underage children. Please tell me that you kidnapped me less than 2 hours ago…”
“I apologize, signora. You see, Theo and Draco here think that you are a Szeged witch. May I introduce myself, Blaise Zabini. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
And with this the man -of probably Italian origin, given the last name, the looks and the way he had addressed her- gave a little bow.
“Ah.. Theo said something like that just before the world went spinning… seriously? Vhat kind of accusation is that? I am Agnes Leutner, by the vay”
Agnes tried to smile.
“A Szeged witch. Famous for their beauty and emotional manipulation of their victims. And of killing their male offspring.”
Theo clarified. Agnes was not sure how to read his facial expression. Nor his emotion waves. A mixture of confusion, fear, distrust,.. and desperation?
“Dis sounds like de believes of a veird religious sect.”
Agnes reasoned, muttering more to herself. And as her observations with religious groups had shown her, there was never a point to trying to convince them of logical fallacies in their believes, or even just make them doubt their conviction a tiny bit; facts usually were repelled like waterdrops on a freshly waxed automobile. Best strategy, get on their level of believes and try arguing adapting their mindset.
“But I have two teenage sons. And I try not to manipulate anybody ever. Even if it is to my disadvantage. You are clearly mistaken in your assessment of me.”
Agnes was basically pleading. Mainly to Theo. But it was Blaise that answered.
“I believe you, signora. I think my friend Theo really likes you, (this was accompanied by a wink towards Theo that hissed ‘Blaise’ as response), which is unusual for him, especially that you are a muggle, and my friend Draco is overprotective of Theo. So they decided on this Szeged witch story.”
“It’s obvious, Theo. Why would you otherwise have bothered to bring her here instead of going for a quick and painless obliviation?”
Before Agnes could digest all this information, a blond woman suddenly appeared out of nowhere, well actually it looked like she stepped out of the fireplace, patted soot off her cape and greeted the men with a big smile on her face.
“Nott, Malfoy, - hi Blaise, you asked me for help with a possible Szeged witch?”
And then locked her gaze on Agnes.
“Oh hi, the person in question must be you. I am Luna. I am an Unspeakable, which means my
job is to solve mysteries for the ministry. Nice to meet you.”
“Hi Luna, nice to meet you, too. So, you work for the British government? I am Agnes. But no mystery. Here the facts: I am 50, living in Trieste - that is in Italy-, married since 20 odd years with 2 teenage sons.”
She produced a wallet and held out her electronic ID card.
“Can you please help me convince these men that I want to be taken back home. I will not press charges for kidnapping if they let me go immediately.”
“Let her go, she is not a Szeged witch.”
Luna demanded without even glancing at the ID card.
“How can you know that?”
Draco wanted to know.
“If she were, you all three would orbit around her, trying to do her bidding.”
“She is a muggle, told you so.”
Blaise sounded pleased with himself.
“Then why did I wake up in her bed two mornings in a row without recollection of how having gotten there?“
Theo insisted, but there was doubt in his voice.
“You did? That is interesting. And needs further investigation. Agnes, could you let me know your exact address. And a mobile number. I would like to contact you once I have an explanation for Theo’s appearance in your bed.”
“Luna, dis is very kind of you. Thank you.”
Agnes provided Luna with the required information. Then she addressed the men, looking mainly at Theo.
“Gentlemen, how do I get back home?”
And just when Theo stepped with Agnes into the fireplace, Luna called after him:
“No obliviation, Theo. This is the job of the ministry. I will look into the case.”
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Luna decided to stay for lunch. It was necessary to calm down Blaise and Draco, well, mainly Draco and dispel their suspicions. When the men moved from the dining room into the smoking room for a cigar and a glass of liquor, she excused herself. But instead of flooing back to the ministry she flooed into the kitchen.
The Nott elves were momentarily startled, not used to ever been disturbed by their Master. But Luna usually was able to calm everyone down with her bright smile.
“Hi everybody, I am Unspeakable Lovegood, and I would like to know what the Nott elves have cooked up that had to involve a Szeged witch? And don’t deny it. I am after all Specialist for magical creatures at the Department for Mysteries. There were strands of elf magic between your Master and the witch. Lucky for you, most Wizards can’t see them.”
An elderly female elf with an air of authority further emphasized by the floral patterned ,dark blue silk scarf that served as toga approached Luna with a confidence rarely seen in a house elf, especially not in response to a scolding.
“Unspeakable Lovegood. I am [the sounds of elfish reminded Luna of how much in her childhood she had wanted to learn this elusive language only to be bitter disappointed later when her father told her that most sounds were not possible to produce with human vocal cords and some of them could not even be heard with human ears. The main reason elves ended up being called Tipsy, Binky or similar- named by the children of the house and readily adopted by the adults], but you may call me Mother Silken Flower.”
The elf paused. Luna bowed her head slightly, muttering “Mother Silken Flower” and waited for the elf in charge of the Nott household to continue.
“As you are probably aware, it is the elves’ mission and duty to care and preserve the family of their house.”
Luna smiled, noting that Mother Silken Flower had not said ‘serve’ and the used the possessive pronoun for the house, but not the family. This Nott elf clearly saw herself -and likely was- in charge of the Notts.
“Now, as you know our Master, as smart, fair and kind as he is, is advancing in years without putting any thought to progenity. This has been going on for many years, decades even. I am aware of the rumors about our Master’s infertility, but there is no truth in them. Believe me, we performed- without his knowledge- a ritual to evaluate his capability to reproduce. We elves of the House of Nott came a few weeks ago to the conclusion that it was up to us to find a Mistress for our House, considering our Masters complete unwillingness. We found a ritual in one of the ancient domes…”
A ritual. Luna was aware that elves of different houses had different specialties. Specialties that reflected the ones of their Masters. The Malfoy elves knew how to prepare for spectacular parties and balls- from cooking multiple courses of gourmet food to decorating lavishly according to the theme of the day. The LeStrange elves were unique in their knowledge of caring for any type of weapon, no matter how old or unusual. The Longbottom elves had all green thumbs, the Greengrass elves were meticulous accountants. The Prince elves knew everything about the correct preservation of potion ingredients. The Black elves dealt daily with the darkest of artifacts (no elf ever had been insured during dusting). And the Nott elves were bookish. Apparently, they knew not only how to take care of ancient bindings, but were also knowledgeable about the contents in between. Maybe it was the specialties of the elves that reflected the wizards? After all, the child rearing was left nearly exclusively in the hands of the elves….
“..So we made sure of all the important points: the woman had to be intelligent, and knowledge-driven to fit into the House of Nott. We did not care for physical appearance or character other than she had to be able to catch and keep our Master’s interest. We also asked for an already existing heir and spare that could be blood-adopted. This would allow Master to get a family without the pressure to having to reproduce. We know him, he would resent that even with the perfect woman to call his wife.”
“But you bound him to a Szeged witch…”
“She is a rather diluted version of Szeged witch, however, with latent talents obtained from both parents. That is why she has some of the powers. We did some scrying. She is somewhat aware that she can get people to do what she wants, but she is part afraid of her power, part annoyed by it. She is unconsciously suppressing it except when in extreme circumstances.”
“What are extreme circumstances?”
“Once, she talked her way out of a looming gang rape.”
“Excuse me? That means controlling several people. How many are we talking?”
“We noticed 7 or 8 in the vision. Muggles. But according to the books, Szeged witch powers influence muggles and wizards equally.”
“She can control 8 men at once? In a highly stressful situation? You are aware that she can be dangerous to your Master with this talent! And even the most powerful wizard can imperio only one person at a time. And that is illegal. If the wrong people get wind of this, they will change the law to classify her as dark creature!”
There was a tiny twitch in Mother Silken Flower’s face. So far, the elf had stuck to the truth, feeling confident she could trust the friendly Ministry employee. Obviously a mistake.
Mother Silken Flower snapped her fingers. Luna’s unconscious body slumped onto the floor. The head of the Nott household mumbled a spell in elfish. Luna woke. She felt a bit a disoriented. Then remembered that she had come to the kitchen to thank the elves for the excellent lunch. Maybe she had gone a bit woozy in the hot and humid and cooking smell-laden air here. She let the elves help her to her feet. What a lunch break. But Blaise had enjoyed having her around and being right about the ridiculous suspicions of his friends concerning Theo’s latest love interest. Szeged witches, really. What nonsense! Luna stepped into the floo calling out the name of her department.
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Mother Silken Flower smiled. Just imagine what would happen if wizards would start understanding how much more powerful elves were than them! But fortunately, it was nature to the human race to think of every other life form as inferior. And despite many of them being surrounded by house elves on a daily basis they did not spend any thought on the magnitude of the magic required to keep everything running. In their arrogance they were automatically assuming that only an inferior people would be willing to do what they themselves considered demeaning tasks.
Despite of what the Ministry employee had thought, Mother Silken Flower was very convinced that the Nott elves had bound their Master to the right kind of witch. She had stayed calm and collected despite having been abducted by three men. She had not seemed particularly angry or even only resentful with their Master for bringing her into such a situation. She had reacted in a dignified way, conversing politely with Lord Zabini and the Unspeakable. She had also gotten her way within a few minutes. Mother Silken Flower was convinced that she could work with such a Mistress. And obviously Master was already enchanted. The bonds forged by the ritual were designed to fade within minutes if their Master would not have liked the match. Instead, they had been so strong that even the Unspeakable, a mere witch had been able to see them.
Mother Silken Flower turned to the three portraits she had extracted during the scrying. The woman with golden hair and a shy smile, hiding the powers she had. One of a teenager with dark brown hair, light grey eyes that contrasted with the long black eyelashes, full lips and hints of developing facial hair, at the peak of teenage awkwardness. There was beauty to be soon found in his features, also once mixed with Nott blood. And the cute boy with the green eyes of his mother, radiating cheekiness. The head elf was looking forward to more liveliness in the manor.