Desperate Measures Duel - Round Four Options

[Department_of_My...]

Grimauld Place is depressing for our heros and they cannot accomplish the mission Dumbledore sent them on while there.

In order that no one suspect anyone has been there, things must be back to the neglected condition they found upon arrival.

They must go somewhere else, separately to two places, or together to one, or some other combination. Where, why, how?

We must start to get an inkling of what Dumbledore wants done (not the whole plan though, not much of the plan at all). How does it interact with Voldemort being back?

Why did the tea leaves disappear from the cups? Will that be important in the future?




You have until Wednesday night, January 10th, 2007.

Good Luck!

[Amunet]

The Dirty Ordeal


‘How many days must Kreacher endure this?’ Kreacher thought to himself, ‘ungrateful son and his werewolf friend, if mistress knew!’

Kreacher has been through quite an ordeal since Lupin and Sirius had entered Grimmauld place. His first awakening to the two men was the smell of eggs and bacon that Kreacher very well knew that no one has cooked in years.

‘They come back to take mistresses’ things and sell them to get better robes!’ Horrified was his reaction upon coming up with his conclusion that he decided to protect anything that he thought the filthy men would want …

* * * * *

“Sirius, who’s that?” Lupin inquired.

“Who? I always thought is was a what.” Sirius came over to where Lupin was standing and looked at the ugliest painting he has always wanted to forget.

“No no, see the nose and ear, right there?”

Sirius tilted is head to one side, making his hair flop in his face, which made him look more like a mangy dog then a human. “Ear and nose? There isn’t that there, no see, look. A bill and webbed feet, see, right there?”

“Oh I see it now!” Lupin agreed when he tilted his head to the same side as his friend, “What an interesting way to paint a duck.”

“A duck? I thought it was a Diricawl.”

“That makes sense.”

“It does?”

“Course it does, the Diricawl goes invisible doesn’t it? Well maybe the wizard did a quick sketch before it disappeared- ”

“And forgot what he drew once he looked at the paper, then decided to improvise on a painting,” Sirius finished.

The two old friends laughed and went into the kitchen where Kreacher could hear the sounds of tea being made. ‘Not the mistress’s favorite painting!’ He said to himself.

“You hear something?”

“I always hear something in this house,” Sirius replied.

Kreacher concluded that the son is crazy and that he better hide the painting before they try to sell it. Slowly waddling over, the old house elf used his magic to lift the painting off its hook ever so gently and float gracefully into his hand. ‘That will show the dirty boy that he is not welcome, traitor.’

“That time I could have sworn I hear something, Sirius.”

“I think you’re going mental from being cooped up.”

“I learn from the best,” Lupin grinned.

Over the next two days, Kreacher hid anything the two men took a slight interest in. Fortunately, they did not notice anything missing except for two items; the painting and a vase that was taken just 12 minutes ago. His little hole by the furnace was so filled with Sirius’s mother’s items that it almost looked like a bizarre museum.

Suddenly, there was a loud tapping sound down in the kitchen and Kreacher thought that one of his mistress’s precious family crested tea cups were being assaulted, so he ran down the back entry as fast as his old little legs could carry him.

“What is it Lupin?”

“Dumledore wishes us to leave, immediately.”

Kreacher saw a piece of parchment rolled up in the werewolf man’s hand and an owl just leaving the window. He was so happy he could have pledged his new servitude to this Dumbledore if mistress didn’t like him so much.

“Did he give any instruction as to where he wants us to go?” asked Sirius.

“Yes, he wants to go on a Ferris wheel.”

“What in all that is Merlin is that?!”

“No idea, but we better find out soon because after 3 hours, he won’t be there.”

With that, Sirius and Lupin quickly left Grimmauld place in search of a Ferris wheel.

Kreacher breathed a sigh of relief and trudged back up to his hole.

“Put everything back just as the mistress would have wanted it,” he slightly paused in thought then added, “and make the place dirty again, so it was like the traitor son and beastly werewolf man weren’t here.”

[lupinsmyman]

The little traitor, blood besmircher, rat has come back to taunt Mistress’ noble house. Doesn’t deserve name of Black. And bringing a mudblood! I sees the destruction the creature does. I must protect Mistress’ precious things. What would mother say if I did not. Would be a shame on all house elves to serve Noble House of Black.

A house elf hobbled into a kitchen he had only attempted to clean once in the last seven years. He gingerly placed a broken vase with other useless items in a pile of dirty rags.

Wiping his hand on the filthy cloth around his waist he observed the house. It was a mess. Dishes were piled high in the sink, clothes lay slung across chairs, books were strewn across the floors. Despite his hatred for the oldest Black son, he couldn’t deny his duty as a house elf. It was time for Kreacher to reveal himself.


~~~~~~~~


“I agree. We’ve got to get out of here and into the fresh air. But where are we supposed to go? I can say that my face is just as recognizable as yours,” Lupin said observing Sirius throwing books onto the floor.

“I’m sure there’s a spell in here somewhere that can help us,” Sirius replied. Just then a flurry of movement passed the door. Sirius looked up and at his friend with a curious look in his eyes.

“Stop! Come here!” He yelled, flinging a book through the doorway. A soft patter of footsteps and bitter mumbling could be heard just outside.

“Master called?” The voice belonged to the most hideous house elf Remus had ever seen. It was skinny, had a typical large nose, and huge hairy ears. Around his waist was a loincloth that was barely long enough.

“Kreahcer.” Sirius spat out the word like spoiled milk. “I should’ve known you’d be here. Though I hoped you would’ve died by now. Maybe cut off your own head and charmed it onto one of those plaques in the stairway.”

The house elf looked at Sirius with an amount of loathing Remus had only seen once before.

“The little blood-traitor talks to Kreacher as if he is master of this house. Mistress should’ve dealt with him a long time ago.” After so many years alone it seemed as if Kreacher had developed a habit of talking to himself out loud.

“Unfortunately it appears not. You had better watch your mouth from now on. If there was one thing I learned in this house it was how to make someone regret the things they’d said,” Sirius replied viciously, lowering himself an inch from the creature’s face.

“Sirius, there’s no need to get violent,” Remus said. The last thing he wanted was a dead house elf and a crazy Sirius on his hands.

Lupin looked sideways at his friend. He could only guess how hard it was for him just to return to this house. Now he had a living memory of it.

“Kreacher, I want you to tell me if you know of any books that have a spell- not a potion- that can make us look like other people.”

“Yes. Kreacher knows.”

“Then tell me!” Sirius exclaimed.
Kreacher hobbled over to a large bookshelf. He ran his fingers over the bony spines of books, almost caressing them. Finally he bent down and pulled out one, flipped it open, and handed it to his master.

~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty minutes later the sun was setting in London, England. In a run down neighborhood Grimmauld Place stood solemn and torn. In between two houses a man and his son stepped out from the shadows.

The older man had many wrinkles in his scarred skin. His hair was sandy blond and his eyes were oddly sad.

The other was a boy, not much older than nine, who must’ve been the man’s grandson. He had messy black hair, pants that were too big for him and a cheerful expression.

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin looked at each other and smiled.

[McGonagall's Cat]

A Quaint Place to Be


Remus looked more closely at his boyhood friend. The years had taken their toll on each of them, and though still coming out of his own private misery, Sirius’ needs seemed greater at the moment. Number Twelve was working on the other’s nerves more than he’d realized.

“This place is a mausoleum. We need some fresh air,” he continued.

Black latched onto the comment like a drowning man. “Yes!” he answered far too quickly.

“O.K. Let’s put this place right and go. How does that cottage at Ilfracombe sound to you?”

With a spark of his old sardonic self, Sirius commented, “The only thing that will put this place right is a good Conflagration Spell.”

“Well, there is that,” Lupin grinned.

“Actually, that’s a bit too populated for my tastes,” the other wizard commented while swooping a wand in a great arc toward the interior of the room. “Let’s see what’s available near the Yorkshire Dales, maybe Windermere.” he said with a sudden spark of life. “We'll send word to Dumbledore once we’ve found a place.” And with more energy than he’d shown in recent memory, he brandished the dark wand, with its gnarled vine-like snake design carved just ahead of his gripping fingers, as though it was salvation itself.

“Where’s you get that?” Lupin asked, a bit shocked.

“This? Ah, this.” He grinned impishly. “When Uncle Alphard died, I sort of borrowed it before they could break it. No one noticed. Actually, Mum was a bit perturbed that she had to waste time at his wake, said as much, and the whole bunch of them went to quarreling, so we left rather quickly.” He shrugged. “I stashed it out back that evening. ‘Retrieved it while you were busy the other night” Then under his breath he said, “Feels good to have one again.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

Sirius grinned.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“It’s a quaint little place, I‘ll give you that,” commented Remus judiciously.

“They always call a house “quaint” when the floors have settled, the sashes stick and there’s a gap under one corner of the door big enough for a mouse to run through.”

“At least you Confunded that Muggle landlord into giving it to us for a song. Literally. Do you have any idea how off-key you were?”

With a cavalier wave of a hand, Black stalked off to explore the tiny place. The kitchen had a sloping ceiling that was so low he wouldn’t have been able to stretch his arms up over his head. On the far end an old flowery drape was pulled across on a wire. Behind it was what passed for a bathroom - a footed tub with a ragged yellowed plastic shower curtain hanging on an aluminum tubular circle, a toilet with a cracked seat-cover, and a small sink with permanent rust stains that had worn dents into the surface. Above it was a mirror with spotty backing and a wall lamp without a shade. A tiny pantry, about two feet wider than the shelves that lined its one side, sat opposite the stove. Something dark brown was dripping from the top shelf like a thin stalactite; upon closer examination it was actually quite crystallized. The back held a jumbled mess of brooms and other tall spindly items, all leaning haphazardly.

“Fish! We’ll have fresh fish,” his muffled voice called from around a corner, and he came back carrying what might have been the world’s oldest bamboo fly rod and an ancient wicker creel. The red and blue fly on the rod hooked back onto the dusty line and looked like a fuzzy ornament a girl would wear in hair. A squashy canvas hat, with small bits of feather and hairs sticking out haphazardly, was perched on his head.

Remus just stared. “Going a bit native, are we?”

“ ‘Need to blend in.”

“I don‘t think that will do it.”

Sirius tossed the paraphernalia onto the only armchair and went into the nearest bedroom. Huge pink cabbage roses, entwined with loopy ribbons, covered the walls. An ancient roller shade with a tassel adorned the window beside the iron bed and a chair whose seat drooped in the middle sat against the wall near a small dresser.

“This one’s yours,” he called flatly and walked to the other one.

The Blue Room, as it was to become known, wasn’t much different, though it did have a fine lacey curtain over its window

“Shall we peruse the Grounds?” he asked opening the door.

Lupin caught up just off the stoop. “So, we’ve been here what, about five minutes?”

Black glanced his direction and opened the gate.
“And you haven’t stopped moving. Or slowed down. Gonna let me in on it?”

They were at the back of the little house before Sirius answered. “Just being cautious.”

“A simple Spell would deal with that,” Lupin said, perturbed.

“Except,” he paused, looking under the forsythia while shaking a few of its branches, “I don’t really want any of ‘our friends’ being aware of my wand’s signature. At the moment it hasn’t been used in any place where it could be traced for close to twenty years.”

“Then use mine.”

“Still traceable. Right now we are just a couple Muggle buddies, taking a break from the Muggle city. No one will even know who we are for a while. By the way, we need to let the Order know how to reach us. You want to take care of that?”

“Okay, what have you done with the real Sirius?” Lupin asked wryly. “It’s not like I don’t live like this every day of my life.”

Ignoring him, Black glanced around one more time then said, “Do you know why Dumbledore had us go to your Grandfather’s old house?”

“Let’s see… to lie low?” he snipped, irritation evident in his voice.

“And you were playing Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.” He shook his head in mock exasperation. “There are wards on that house, left from sixteen-or-so years ago. Like my wand, they’ve been in place so long, no one notices them anymore, unless they’re really looking. Which so far they haven’t..aren‘t…whatever.”

“It’s nice to be kept in the loop,” Lupin grumbled.

“Well, I was going to tell you about it, but I was tired and thought we had time, and then those owners came home and we got in that whole mess. At least all traces of us should have been gone within an hour of us leaving.”

“How do you know this stuff? It was MY grandparents’ house!”

“Yeah, well, you'll have your chance. We have to go back there as soon as the attention dies down. There’s something hidden in it he wants us to get.”







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