The Proposal
How long had Hinkey been standing there? How much had he seen? Salazar had no idea. Nor could he fathom how the little house-elf would react.
“Hinkey,” Salazar gasped, “you’ve got to help me.”
“Sirship, please don’t hurt Hinkey, Sirship,” Hinkey whimpered loudly, “Hinkey is not seeing anything, Sirship. Hinkey is a good elf. Hinkey is going, Sirship!”
Hinkey raised his hand to click his fingers and disapparate, but Salazar quickly reached out to stop him.
“No, please, Hinkey, look, you’ve got to help me! I won’t hurt you.”
Hinkey stopped, looking tormented. “I serve the master,” he said resolutely, pointing at Erebus’ corpse. “I serve the master!”
“Your master’s dead, Hinkey, he’s dead!” Salazar pleaded.
“I know, Sirship!” Hinkey wailed, his distress heightening. “If Hinkey had been here sooner, Hinkey might have stopped this!”
Salazar knew he had to keep him talking. He couldn’t let Hinkey leave and expose him. His mind raced. He needed two things: to get rid of the body and to ensure Hinkey’s silence. Without evidence or suspicion, he could avoid facing a family of angry wizards.
“Surely, it’s right to bury him, Hinkey. Surely, it’s the right thing to do. That’s all I want. Just for you to lay your master to rest. Somewhere safe, somewhere peaceful.”
Hinkey seemed to calm slightly but still wrestled with his thoughts, twisting his cloth anxiously.
“You know somewhere you can bury him, don’t you, Hinkey? You’re a good house-elf! You could lay him to rest somewhere he won’t be disturbed. Where no one could find him!”
Hinkey was now subconsciously pulling his ears down. “The other masters, Sirship,” he whispered frantically.
“Hinkey, come here,” Salazar pleaded gently, signalling with his hand. “This has all been such a terrible shock. But, you’re a good house-elf. You’ll do what is right for Master Erebus, won’t you? He needs to be buried. Look at him! Do you really think Miss Juliana would want to see him like this? What would that do to her?”
“I am a good house-elf,” Hinkey stated, convincing himself, tears running down from his big eyes.
“Yes, that’s right,” Salazar affirmed. “Wouldn’t it be better if she didn’t have to face this? If it was as though he’d just disappeared?”
“No, sir, no, sir, that will not do. Master would suspect,” Hinkey reasoned. “Master would know!”
“No, Hinkey,” Salazar said firmly.
But Hinkey had been thinking too and knew what would be best for his master.
“Master was trying to kill you, Sirship. But what if master had an accident instead? What if master had an accident with his terrible beast?”
“What are you saying, Hinkey?” Salazar asked, raising his eyebrows.
“No one knows master tried to kill you, and no one knows you killed the master. No one suspects you. No one thinks badly of my master. I will not tell the masters it was you.”
Salazar looked at him in surprise. “Are you sure, Hinkey? You would do that, for me? Oh, Hinkey, you are a good elf.”
“I am not doing it for you, Sirship, I am doing it for the masters! The shame of it!” he cried.
“Of course,” Salazar said quickly, sighing with relief.
“We need to work fast, Sirship,” Hinkey acknowledged.
Salazar had no time to consider the new plan but looked around himself again. The mess would have to be cleaned up. He had no idea whether his broken wand would work. He confessed his predicament to Hinkey.
“I need a wand, Hinkey!” he exclaimed.
Hinkey looked back at him. Though he didn’t need one, he was willing to oblige. With a few clicks of his fingers, any signs of a fight or struggle were gone. He even removed much of the blood from Erebus and the surroundings to make a case for an accident more credible.
“You need to get back, Hinkey, or they will suspect something’s wrong,” Salazar said urgently.
“Yes, Sirship,” he said reverently. “First I will take you somewhere safe, then I will go to my masters, and then I will come back for you.”
Salazar nodded gratefully. Then he stopped in alarm. He had just remembered all the papers and manuscripts that had flown off the desk and onto the floor when he had upturned it. These were all the writings and works of Herpo. He couldn’t just leave them. They were a treasure too great to leave behind. He begged Hinkey to give him one more moment, then he gathered them up and held them close. Then he saw the Basilisk and decided that was too great an opportunity to miss as well. With another plea for time, he soon removed its horn.
“Hurry, Sirship!” Hinkey begged.
Then Hinkey took hold of Salazar, and in an instant, they vanished with a loud crack.
*
Several weeks had passed since the night Erebus had died. Several weeks had passed since Hinkey had taken Salazar to a small shack on the outskirts of the city. Salazar had not left the single room that formed the shack, but the trees and hills he could see out of the windows and through the cracks convinced him they had not travelled far. The area must have been isolated and remote, for he had not seen or heard another human being all the time he’d been there. The room contained a small bed in one corner, a small table in the centre, and a basin upon it.
Hinkey had promised faithfully, when they arrived, not to tell a soul about Salazar’s part in Erebus’ demise, as long as Salazar also promised not to defame Erebus’ name. He’d also promised to visit Salazar frequently with refreshments and news and had been completely true to his word. Most importantly, the house-elf had brought snakewood at Salazar's request. This allowed Salazar to fashion his own wand out of the Basilisk horn and snakewood. He was very pleased with the results and had spent quite some time testing and perfecting it. The wand worked remarkably well.
Now, though, there was little to distract him from his thoughts and anxieties over Erebus and potential repercussions. Hinkey’s reports had always been positive and satisfying, but Salazar couldn’t shake off the feeling of panic and worry that he would be found out. It would be so obvious, he thought, that Erebus was not killed at the hands of a snake. He cursed himself. No snake could pick up a knife, stab him, and then die afterwards. They would never believe it was an accident, he convinced himself, as he fretted. Could they link it to him? He ran over his actions and the scene as he had left it, wondering if anyone had seen him or if he’d left any trace behind. He was almost certain nobody had seen him and that he hadn’t left a trace.
The only person who knew of his involvement was Hinkey. But that, too, was a worry. How much could he trust a house-elf? How much did Hinkey have to lose? Hinkey had repeatedly told him that no one suspected him, and that “the masters are saying it is an accident too,” as they didn’t want the family exposed to scandal or shame. How much could he trust him? At any moment, he expected the house-elf to reappear with Caractacus or an army of his cronies. He would have to be prepared and stay calm. He needed a plan. Although he wanted to stay close, in case he caught wind of any suspicious rumours.
There was a loud crack, and Hinkey materialised into the room out of thin air. Salazar raised his wand in anticipation, fully prepared for unwanted guests to accompany the small elf, expecting to have to curse them at any moment. But there was no one. The elf was alone. Salazar sighed in relief and lowered his wand slightly.
“Tis only me!” squeaked Hinkey.
“Hinkey!” Salazar cried. “What’s the news?”
“There is no news, your Sirship,” Hinkey said eagerly, putting some food on the table. “The masters have laid Master Erebus to rest. The masters cry, but they are not blaming you. They are not blaming anybody but Master Erebus.”
“They don’t suspect me?” Salazar asked, his mouth full of breakfast.
“No!” Hinkey exclaimed quickly. “They are not suspecting anyone. They are not mentioning Sirship!”
Far from being reassured, Salazar was beginning to feel quite put out. He even forgot the piece of bread he’d intended to put in his mouth.
“They’ve not mentioned me?” he asked incredulously.
“No, Sirship, no, of course not! And I have not told them, Sirship!”
“Good, Hinkey. I should hope not,” Salazar said, returning to his bread. “It wouldn’t end well if you did,” he added threateningly.
Hinkey gulped and held his ears over his eyes. Salazar, on the other hand, was thinking. He had to be sure.
“What if they did think about me?” he mused aloud. “What if you mentioned to Miss Juliana about those two young men who stayed with them for the summer and whether they had heard about the tragedy? Surely they would appreciate being told.”
Hinkey appeared confused. “Oh, no, Sirship, what if she wrote you a letter? You are not in Britannia to receive it!”
“No, quite right, but you could surely deliver it to me here. Then I could suggest I come and visit, to console them. Or at least to pay my final respects to Erebus.”
Shaking his head violently, Hinkey said, “Oh no, Sirship, you are being very dangerous. You are drawing attention to yourself.”
“Well, Hinkey, I think it’s about time I did. I can’t stay here forever, can I?” Salazar reasoned. “No, I think this will be for the best. That way I can check the lay of the land for myself.”
Hinkey did not look convinced but, used to doing the bidding of humans, promised Salazar that he would.
In a few days' time, a letter did arrive from Juliana, delivered by Hinkey. Salazar replied, instructing Hinkey not to deliver the reply for a further few days, to make it seem like it had traveled from a much greater distance.
Soon, a date was fixed for Salazar to visit them, and it approached quickly. He was eager yet apprehensive, unsure of what he would find. How would he be received? He wouldn't miss the shack, which had felt like a cowardly retreat from the world.
When he arrived, he realized Caractacus’ house had not changed. On knocking on the door and being received by Hinkey, Salazar had to pretend he hadn't seen the house-elf every day since Erebus had died. The household appeared very somber; the white tunics and golden details he remembered had been replaced with black tunics and simple adornments. Caractacus himself had the air of a man trying to appear jovial and friendly despite the circumstances. Juliana did not smile and looked even paler.
“My dear friend,” Caractacus said warmly, clasping his hands around Salazar’s, “you are very welcome. Thank you for coming to pay your respects and share in our grief.”
“Caractacus, I’m pleased to be here, despite the terrible circumstances. My sincere condolences. You must be feeling his loss desperately.”
“We are!” boomed Caractacus, “we are! But your words are much appreciated and a great comfort.”
Salazar said softly, “Juliana’s letter did not mention how he died—”
“It was tragic,” Caractacus interjected quickly, “tragic. A terrible accident. I warned him not to be so cavalier, but would he listen? No! He was as stubborn as his father and as brave as his mother!”
“An accident?” Salazar probed.
“Yes,” explained Caractacus, “he was trying to rescue a damsel in distress on a magic carpet. Only, it wasn’t strong enough for the both of them—”
Caractacus blew his nose loudly.
“But enough of that. I’m sure you’d rather have the company of someone younger and prettier. Juliana, take our guest for a walk.”
Juliana blushed but obeyed. She took him around the house, through the courtyard, by the fountain. Her demeanor, though sad, was pleasant, and as Salazar walked with her, he soon found himself recalling their previous outings. Her conversation was light, interested in the happenings at the School. He happily regaled her with tales of its founding, the pupils, and the competitions. She listened attentively. By the end, Salazar was eager for more.
He was invited to stay longer by Caractacus. Salazar accepted willingly. His nerves about what he would find and his suspicions were somewhat quelled. But he convinced himself it was wise to remain, to be more certain. Although this reasoning might not have been as persuasive if there hadn’t been a new, fast-developing motive he was trying to blind himself to.
Staying permitted Salazar to accompany Juliana on more walks. On one such walk, as they passed a church, the conversation turned to the past.
“I heard about Oswald,” Juliana said thoughtfully.
“‘Um?” Salazar acknowledged. “I have to admit it was a terrible waste of talent.”
“So awful. He must have suffered so much. His poor family.”
Salazar didn’t know what to say. He allowed the conversation to pause and the weight of the words to sink in.
Juliana continued, speaking deeply, “it is such a terrible thing. The loss you feel.”
“Erebus?”
They passed some children playing on a street corner. Juliana moved in closer.
“It wasn’t really a magic carpet accident,” Juliana said seriously.
“It wasn’t?” Salazar replied, trying to sound surprised and intrigued.
“No. Father only said that because he doesn’t want people to know how he really died,” she said pensively. Then, cautiously, she continued, “he was found in an underground chamber. It appears he had become involved in a cult of some sort, and it must have gone horribly wrong.” She shuddered. “Oh, it’s awful to think of him being killed by such dreadful people, in such a way. Perhaps he was trying to get out of it? Perhaps that’s why they struck him down? He must have known too much. I hope he didn’t suffer in his last moments.”
“Juliana,” Salazar said as they stopped at a spot overlooking the sea, “this might seem sudden, but would you marry me?”
Juliana looked shocked, even paler than before, if that was possible. Salazar blushed, feeling very stupid and self-conscious.
“It’s alright,” Salazar implored quickly, “you don’t have to say anything!”
He turned to leave and make an abrupt exit. If he had to marry a woman, why not her? He had thought. His promise to his Father still plagued him.
But Juliana raised her hand to stop him. “Wait, Salazar. Stop. I was just so surprised. You mean my brother’s death doesn’t bother you?”
Salazar replied incredulously, “bother me? Why would it? Of course not!”
“And we could leave this place?” Juliana asked longingly, looking out over the sea.
“In a heartbeat,” he said imploringly.
“Yes,” she said, and her answer seemed to shock her even more.
She laughed and giggled. So did Salazar. He felt elated. He kind of jumped up and down, then took her in his arms. Their lips embraced.
“Your father won’t mind?” Salazar asked suddenly, struck by the thought.
“Mind? Of course not. He’ll be delighted.”
They embraced again. After they returned, Salazar’s fears were soon dissipated as he saw the reaction of her father and the other guests. Caractacus warmly embraced him and clapped him by both shoulders. He ordered a great banquet for the evening, stating that there would never be a celebration like it. Juliana told everyone they were going to live in Britannia.
“That’s where Ishtar’s from,” she said to Salazar at one point in the evening. “You know, my chaperone. The Highlands, if I recall correctly. Used to be a governess there—a long time ago. Never right after that, never spoke again, I believe. But that’s what kids do to you, I guess. The McGregors, I think, if I remember rightly—rings a bell—”
Everyone seemed delighted with the match. Everyone, that is, except Hinkey, the house-elf, who managed to catch Salazar alone during the evening.
“Why is you marrying Miss Juliana?” he questioned in hushed tones, summing up all his courage.
“Shoot off, Hinkey! It’s none of your business,” Salazar retorted curtly.
Hinkey would not be thrown off so easily. “You is messing with my master’s daughter, when you is killing her brother!”
“That’s my affair,” he said threateningly, “and you’ll leave it that way unless you want me to tell everyone the truth, and the part you played in it.”
Hinkey winced at his words and screwed his face up. Then, in great distress but with equal resolve, he carried on in an accusatory manner.
“Is you even loving her?”
“That is enough!” Salazar replied forcefully, indicating that the discussion was well and truly over.
Salazar grabbed his cloak and swished past Hinkey, eager to leave. But not before he gave Hinkey a final kick with his heavy boot as he passed. His thanks for all of the elf's efforts.