Nine: Fire.

Teddy sat reading the latest missive from Ashtad, becoming increasingly angry. When he reached the end of it, he stood up, marched to Harry‘s office and threw open the door.

“Have you seen this?” He all but shouted.

Harry arched one eyebrow at the explosion of temper from his godson. “Since you’re still holding it, probably not, no.”

Teddy slapped the letter down in front of him. “Read it!” Teddy plonked himself down into one of the chairs, with one ankle on the opposite knee, bouncing it up and down as he jiggled his leg in an outward display of his restive temper.

Before Harry could read more than a few lines, Teddy burst out, no longer able to contain his fury. “He’s got the boy so exhausted, he’s leading him around by the nose!”

Harry sighed. “Ted, I know that you and he -”

Teddy cut him off. “This isn’t about me and him! He’s up to something Harry! That woman,” Teddy seized the letter from Harry and pointed out the passage about the woman in the bus station with the long brown hair. “It’s like Ashtad says, she’d clearly been Imperiused! We need to get them back here, I’m worried for the boy!”

“Ashtad is a man, Teddy, and he can look after himself.” Harry reminded him mildly, retrieving the letter from his grasp and reading it through.

“Don’t you think that Smith-”

“Ted, stop it. You’ve hated him for years; you are not being objective-”

“Objective? OBJECTIVE?” Teddy had totally lost any hold that he had over his anger now. “When was the last time he contacted you? Just tell me that you know something I don’t and I’ll not say another word.” Teddy clutched at his soft tawny curls, as though he could pull more information from his mind by tearing out his hair.

Harry looked into his face and saw a distant echo of another Lupin, tortured by the actions and intentions of other people and his immediate anger with Teddy softened through a remembered sense of guilt.

“No, I don’t know anything else… I’ll bring them home, as soon as I can.” If he had expected this to pacify Teddy, he was sorely mistaken.

“You should have done that weeks ago!” Teddy stood up and stalked out of Harry’s office and back towards his own desk. From behind him, Harry bellowed “LUPIN! GET YOUR BACKSIDE BACK IN HERE NOW!”

Teddy stalked back into the office and slammed the door.

“We’re not at home, you don’t speak to me like that here. Anyone else would be moving to the centaur office quicker than they could blink.” Harry was controlling his own anger, but only just. “Don’t think for a second think that I underestimate Smith but don’t you dare underestimate Djalili. He’s not a child, he can look after himself.”

Although Harry’s voice had remained level, Teddy could not have felt worse if he had actually been out-shouted. “Harry, I’m s-”

“It doesn’t matter. Now, let’s see what we can sort out.”

The two of them fell into a very logistical conversation about the best way to bring Smith and Ashtad home.


*****

Phoenix Felicis was cosseted in the silent calm of the library, where he preferred to be. He had been working on his Transfiguration essay for two hours. The Saturday afternoon sun was setting, washing the books with a golden orange glow. His essay stretched across the table and over the other side, rolling back up of its own accord. His concentration was broken as Ashtad Djalili rushed, as quickly as he dared, through the library towards him. Phoenix expected him to sit down, but instead Ashtad ducked behind one of the shelves and crouched down, so that only Phoenix could see him. Rolling his eyes, Phoenix whispered “What did you do now?”

“Have you seen her?” A look of unbridled glee spread across Ashtad’s face.

There was no need to ask who he was referring to.

“What did you do?”

“Shh!” Ashtad pointed up the aisle as a short figure, with a very red face came storming towards them.

“Where is he?” She demanded, through gritted teeth, as Ashtad crept away unseen. There was an odd scent suddenly and he couldn’t quite work out what it was.

Phoenix arranged his face in to an expression into polite bewilderment. “Who?”

“Djalili. I know you know where he is.” Phoenix looked away from her face, her eyes were so filled with anger that he felt as though they might bore into him. Her hair seemed lopsided.

“Have you had a hair cut?” He asked innocently.

“Not exactly.” She hissed at him, turning around so that he could see where the hair on one side of her head had been singed away so that instead of reaching her waist, it reached her shoulders.

“What happened?” He asked, his mouth falling open in shock.

“Your juvenile friend smuggled a fire-crab out of Care of Magical Creatures and fed it Pepper Imps!”

Phoenix’s eyebrows shot up upwards in shock. “So it had fire coming out of both ends?” He thought that she was lucky to have any hair left at all but was wise enough not to share this with her.

She nodded, seemingly unable to actually speak anymore.

“I’m sorry Hermia, I haven’t seen him.” It was a lie, but not out of loyalty. He felt that he was saving Ashtad from more than just having Hermia scream at him. The look in her eyes told him that she was more than ready to flay Ashtad within an inch of his life and she would be the one to get a detention if that happened, which she would not have deserved.

“Humph!” Apparently, Hermia had not regained the power of speech. She turned on her heel and stalked away.

Ashtad crept back around the bookcase still grinning. Phoenix frowned at him. “I don’t get you. It’s like you think you’re Fred Weasley or something.”
Ashtad just winked at him.

*****

Ashtad jerked awake. He was moving, or to be more exact, the seat he was sitting on was vibrating, as though he was in some sort of vehicle. His hand flew to his pocket, where his wand should have been.

“Looking for this, freak?” Someone was pointing his own wand at him.

He sat up slowly. The large, brutish man in front of him was grinning in a dull way. Ashtad realised that he had fallen asleep on the train that Smith had insisted they take from Paris to London. It went under the sea, which Ashtad thought was a very dodgy idea indeed. In his present predicament, Ashtad could quite happily have killed Smith with his bare hands.

“Yes, and I want it back.” Ashtad said firmly.

“Is that ri-” The man didn’t get a chance to finish what he was saying, Ashtad had punched him, slamming his head into the window and knocking him out cold. He grabbed his wand, Summoned his bag and walked calmly out of the carriage. As the door of the next carriage slid open he saw Smith lounging in a seat, reading a French newspaper.

“There’s an unconscious bloke back there. You’ll have to go modify his memory because if I do it, I’ll kill him and then you.” Ashtad said in a matter of fact tone as he sat in the seat opposite Smith. Smith lowered his newspaper and considered Ashtad for a moment. Without saying a word, he stood up and walked out of the carriage.

Ashtad picked up the paper and began to read. After a while Smith returned and sat down.

“It’s sorted.”

“Good. If you leave me exposed like that again John, I will kill you.” It was not a threat; it was a statement of intent.
Smith looked at Ashtad, a snarl of contempt settling on his lips. “I will be sure to remember that.” His voice dripped with scorn.


With thanks to my clone for letting me borrow Phoenix Felicis.