The Dungeons

Dear Ginny please look after Elle's our flat for the next few days as we're off on holiday. I am taking Elle to We are going to Manitoba, in Canada, which Elle says has cows and other Muggle animals and a nice city with art in it. An international seagull will find us in case of emergency. Sorry about the short notice but Elle was quite annoyed with me this time so I have to I had to we decided to go away at the last moment. I hope you don't mind. It's just the usual. Elle's left a note about all the plants, the kneazles look after themselves more or less, and I've left all the rest off at the zoo. We'll be back on Tuesday after the Canadian holiday - did you know it's a holiday in Canada? The wards will let you in to the flat but we use a Muggle thing for the street door because there are Muggles on the street sometimes. If you don't know how to use it Dad can help, probably. Tell Percy we're sorry we didn't ask him but you know how he is about the kneazles. Elle said to mention that if the Prophet is still bothering you, nobody knows where our flat is so you'd be safe here. But I said you could look after yourself quite well anyway.

love your brother Charlie

p.s. Did you know that Muggles will give away monkeys to people in wheelchairs? Elle says they're meant for people who can't look after themselves with magic, you know, and it's insulting to even think of suggesting that she should get us one even though they are such lovely animals so we can't have one. Sometimes I see what Dad means about Muggles being very odd and interesting.

*along with the note, the jobberknoll clutches a medium-sized, old-fashioned iron key in its beak*

My Vi,

I just stopped by the estate agent's office. We now officially own a house in Cumbria.

Meet me at our front door when you get off work. Mother's keeping the twins tonight. And Father, too, I suppose. How odd, that. I keep forgetting he's staying with her.

Much love,
Marik

Enclosed is a heavy iron key.

Look, whomever took my fucking key to the fucking closet I use to change in can fuck off.

I'm not in a fucking mood to fucking deal with it today, and thanks to you I just cut my fucking hand trying to break a fucking iron lock just so I could put on my kit for this fucking match.

And keep away from my fucking vodka.

Krum

EXCERPT FROM My Life By Sirius O. Black, Auror and Hero: A THRILLING TALE OF ADVENTURE AND TRIUMPH OVER ADVERSITY!

First draft!

CHAPTER ... ah, I'll figure it out later. (THE MYSTERY OF THE MYSTERIOUS FOOTLOCKER)

What the fuck, you pissy little bastard. There's a lock across the stairs. Magical iron and I can't even summon my fucking wand that's up those bloody stairs and I have to be at my office in an hour so knock it the fuck off. This isn't amusing.

And here I was trying so hard to amuse you.
Perhaps you could walk to London?

Unlock this now. Jesus. I can't believe you. Passive-aggressive berk.

I fail to see what's passive about it.

You wanted to stay downstairs well enough last night.
You'll get used to it soon enough.

You wanted to spend your birthday with Severus and to hell with what I had planned. We all make choices.

Open the goddamned stairs, Draco. I need my wand for work. Something you don't really know anything about.

Do you think you can mock me? I've been mocked by far more brilliant people than you. I think you should stick to stomping and slamming, Harry, it will be far less taxing on the Gryffindor mind.

Fuck you. Where's the fucking key?

Yes, vapid abuse is much more your sort of thing. I'm sure that feels better.

You know that vase your mother gave you for Christmas? The crystal one? Unlock the stairs or I break it.

I'm not fucking joking.

And what exactly has my mother ever done to you that you would destroy something she gave me?

If you're going to threaten me, at least mean it. Whatever I might say about Severus, his threats were always sincere.

Draco, just give me my fucking wand and I'll leave. You won't have to deal with me all afternoon.

That, at least, is an offer I can hardly refuse.

Darling? If by any chance you actually receive this message, could you possibly - after you fetch Diefer from his playgroup, of course - jete round to Hogwarts and see if you can manage to, well...pick a lock, as the Muggles say.

What seems to have happened...actually it's rather amusing, if one looks at it in the right way. You might even laugh! I admit I haven't laughed yet, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time. Anyway, what's happened is that even though I'm not currently on active teaching duty, I thought I'd be able to slip into the Divination office without being seen, just for a moment, except that my blasted Disillusionment Charm must be a bit weak because somebody - one of the minions of that beastly Umbridge, no doubt - seems to have used a rather powerful shrinking spell on me, deposited me in one of my souvenir porcelain tea caddies, and locked me in with an old iron padlock. I'm not at all certain why I wasn't able to foretell this occurrence (rather embarrassing, to be honest), but there you are. Or rather, here I am.

Much love...your Sybill

*footsteps*

I like this midweek holiday, Mrs Weasley. Feels a bit clandestine.

But here it is, dusted and cleared of anything that might be malicious magic. All that's left it to open the padlock and see what's inside.

*the sound of a heavy trunk being set gently on the floor*

My parents gave me (three keys for my birthday.)

Ron,

I don't really want to be writing this, but I have to, I guess, because it's my fault, really. I didn't mean to take Viktor's key; I didn't even know it was his--I just found it lying outside on the walk in front of the clubhouse and I meant to ask about to see whose it was, but with the match today I forgot.

So he hurt his hand trying to open his changing room, and McKendrick thought he'd be fine flying with it. She even gave him a potion, but for some reason it didn't work, maybe there was iron in the wound, she thinks, that she didn't get out from the lock.

But he fell. He couldn't hold on to his broom, and when he took a dive for the Snitch, he fell fifty feet before anyone could cast a Levitation Charm. They just took him to St Mungo's. I'm on my way there as soon as I can, but I wanted to let you know immediately.

I'm sorry, Ron. I'm so sorry.

Ginny

This bloke is under the impression that I might kill him in some secret untraceable rogue Auror way if he doesn't do what I said, so don't tell him otherwise. If you've got this he's upstairs. Is he upstairs? I want to know what his injuries are and don't lie to me, Ginny.

Ginny?

Is that you? I can hear you? I can hear you, right? Is that you?

Albus,


I thought I'd send round an update on disbursals I've approved from the new scholarship fund set up by Draco Malfoy. To date, fifty-three families have applied for assistance, and I have approved forty-nine of those (four families' circumstances were known to me as being rather affluent, and I judged that they were simply trying to see what they could get out of it. I asked for further supporting documentation in such cases, which wasn't forthcoming from any of them).

The forty-nine families who clearly did need some help have a total of 117 children between them. We have approved disbursals for tuition assistance at Beauxbatons for 38 children, and almost all of the remainder are being tutored at home. The parents of five children, however, opted to enroll their children at the Salem Witches' Academy. I am sure they'd be better off being tutored at home, American educational standards being what they are, but I approved the tuition subsidies nonetheless.

I also wanted to solicit your opinion on a small personal matter, as well. Like many of us, I left Hogwarts on short notice. I was able to secure all of my personal effects, but I realized later that I'd forgotten to take care of Walpurga (Peeve's older sister, you know), who is normally kept locked in a trunk in the Gryffindor HoH quarters. She's infinitely worse than her brother, and I liked to keep her close by, so as to keep an eye on the trunk. You'll recall how malignant her sense of humor is; a pity that she's so much brighter than her brother.

At any rate, she's clever enough that magical wards alone won't do, for the long term (at least, I assume she could get round those, given enough time). So besides some heavy wards, there's the lock, a very heavy Muggle one, spelled to remain rusted shut all year round. The spell's a good one, if I do say so, except it's rather shaky on Halloween. I'd forgotten all about Walburga, as I said, and then when I did remember the matter, I was sure that Umbridge couldn't last a month. But now Halloween approaches. Do you think we ought to do anything about it?

As ever,

Minerva

My dear Perpetua,


A belated thank you note for that half-case of wine you sent last month. You can't imagine how welcome it was; teaching has proven more stressful than I ever would have credited, especially as the students are often insolent. A nice tipple at the end of the day is just the thing, and some of my colleagues have also enjoyed the bottles you sent. Thank you, dear.

I will say that I've been managing to keep up with the marking, more or less. Some of the staff here complain about that, but I've never had a hard time finishing a job, once I put my mind to it. In confidence, the greatly reduced number of students also makes it easier to get through the marking, too.

And what would you say if I told you I've got a small mystery here in Gryffindor House? It's taken me a while to work through the whole Tower, and sort things out (the house elves really didn't clean the bath tiles properly, and I've set up a new schedule for them for cleaning the stairs). But I've had time to look through everything now, and found a very cunning small trunk, hidden in the back of a closet in the HoH's quarters. I'm dying to know what's in it.

It was warded, but you know I soon made short work of those. But there's a great ugly Muggle lock as well, and it's positively rusted through, so you can't turn a key in it. Even if there were a key. The trunk must have been sitting there for decades to get into such condition! I'm dying to find out what's hidden inside.

Muggles have some sort of craftsmen for locks, don't they? A lockblower is it? Like a curse breaker? At any rate, I might take it with me to a Muggle part of London, if need be, to get it opened. I've shook it a bit, and there is definitely something in there.

Perhaps you could go out for dinner with me in Hogsmeade next weekend, and we could talk about it? It's been too long. Let me know how your schedule looks.

Yours,

Priscilla

I found a Mystery!!

It's something very very secret, so I think I'll just keep it to myself. But it's a key. It is. With a funny-scary face on the end of it. I found it in the box that was labeled "Lockhart." Only there wasn't anything I'd think was mine in it. Just some old photographs of an old man with a beard. I suppose he looked a little bit like me, but not nearly as handsome and much older.

So, what kind of lock do you think would go along with a key that's in the shape of a snake being eaten by a skull?

Well, since it's a secret, I guess I'll have to figure out the answer for myself. Unless someone else can figure out what it means.

I'll probably figure it out first, though. I am very clever, you know.

Wort,

I found this today in a curiosity shoppe and thought you would need it for your Pirate ship. After all, what's a pirate ship without a treasure chest with a giant padlock on it.

The old man behind the counter told me the key was long lost, and he's not sure what's inside the treasure chest. I'm sure your Tati could figure out a way to get it open tonight, though.

Let the old dog know I'll be home a little late tonight, and to go ahead with dinner without me. I'll fend for myself when I do get home.

~R

*a note next to a large pile of old iron locks, some with keys that don't necessarily matched shoved in them and a book of poetry by Robert Burns opened to A Red, Red Rose*

DO NOT FORGET: Pick one of the last roses before going inside and whispering this in Molly's ear.

Tiffles! Where on earth has that elf got to. Forcing me to shout in my own household like some termagant--there you are, you wretched thing. Fetch me the contents of the iron-banded casket in my study. (Yes, of course you'll need the key, I have it here.)

*muttered* Wanting to paw at an old token like some mawkish consumptive; I must be feeling particularly maudlin tonight. *louder* Yes, the entire contents; if you remove it from the envelope it's in it will likely fall apart, and then you'll be required to gather every lost hair, you good-for-nothing. Bring the entire envelope.

My Dearest Darling! Woe! Know first and foremost that I will always cherish, nay, adore you even in your current, er, reduced circumstances. Rest assured I am doing everything within the very molecules of my being to set you free! Uncle Demi is coming along-he is very good at getting into otherwise impenetrable spaces, if you recall--and we shall have you out within a trice! I've left Diefer at Uncle's cottage--he assures me little Dierdre hardly ever bites at all now.

On swiftest wings!

Yours! Yours! Yours!

In haste--

Your loving sweeetie blossom,

Dexter

This is perhaps the loveliest key I have ever seen. (From here on in, I want everything to be made of iron.)

Day's agenda:

-Meet with Scoresby (try not to gristle at him more than necessary; the man can't help being an ass)

-(Educate staff that searching for the key to the lost-and-found IN the lost-and-found is a brilliant example of recursive idiocy)

-Owl Shacklebolt re: cursed loos at West Kensington and Earl's Court stations

*In a different hand:*
-Stop making to-do lists like some big girl's blouse *in Moody's hand* bugger that, Scoresby, they work for me and at least I get my reports in on time unlike some

Lena hates bringing Bastien to Wales to see Maman and Papa. She's full of nothing but disdain and wants nothing to do with the baby... I do not think that she knew what she was getting herself into when she trapped me into this marriage.

She's mine. As surely as if she had a shackle on her ankle, heavy iron and locked and only I have the key. I will not let her go. I will not let Bastien go. I did not know that I would become this attached to a small human. Even more so these last months that he lets me sleep.

I've decided and this weekend I will tell Lena. If she doesn't want to take care of Bastien during the day then she can stay with Maman in Wales until I am done with work. I am not giving over the care of my child to a nanny or an elf. And I refuse to fight about it any longer. She's not in Russia anymore.

And she damn well better start working on her English and French.

Noelle,

Looks like I'll have to postpone our date night tonight. Sorry I couldn't wait until you got home--I just glided by the cottage to pick up that set of old keys little Deirdre dragged out of that mausoleum--one of them looked just the right size for a tea caddy--toffs are buried with such odd things, aren't they? Anyway, you won't believe the mess the fool boy and that dizzy wife of his have gotten into now. I'm heading up to the wizard's school. If we can't figure out how to get Sybill back to her normal size, would you mind making up a drawer for her with some nice fluffy flannels? And maybe a thimbleful of tea? She'll probably need it after riding in Dexter's pocket. Boy can't move without doing one of those crazy leaps of his.

Don't forget to send a bat to the babysitter--we're on for tomorrow night for sure.

Your Demi

Richards! 100 points from Gryffindor! And you will come with me right this instant and release that poor Diricawl from the trunk you locked it in!

*rattle of a door* Damn it, Shacklebolt! Your contact's information was for shite. She didn't say anything about a damned spell-lock!

Relax, Dawes. *jingle of metal* I've got it covered.

You've got it covered. *muttering* Merlin's hairy balls! Is that what I think it is?

*a scraping noise*

Ah, thank you Fitsy, I don't know why it should come at such an hour as this, but it's good of you to assist me with it. Yes, right there, hold it up and don't let it tip out from the wall. Yes, just so. You are sure you have it?

Iron-eyed Minerva, goddess of efficiency --

Thank you. I mean it most sincerely: thank you very, very much for sorting out the scholarships. Truly it makes our role in the semi-exodus of the students, otherwise such a monstrous dereliction of duty, morally bearable.

The problem of Walpurga. I can't help wondering if you mean to suggest that this may not, in fact, be a problem, although it doesn't seem quite fair to either your office or your successor to allow her to escape there after a long incarceration. After a certain point, rust can be less rather than more of an impediment.

Do you think it's time for someone to find the key, or very nearly? I'm sure that could be arranged. Along with a transfer of the box. One has only to pique the interest of the properly motivated individuals.

I hope you are well. Have you any special plans for Halloween? Take care of yourself.

Albus

There's a lock on the liquor cabinet today. It was there when I woke up this morning, heavy and blackly iron. I've no idea where Finola put the damned key, and can't be arsed to search for it.

I could break the lock if I wish. She knows it as well as I do. It's not even as complex as the warding she's attempted before.

I'm not certain what that means.

She said nothing when I came back in Wednesday morning before she left for work, merely raised her eyebrow at the bruises and scratches barely visible above my collar. I don't even know if she suspects them of being Draco's.

Who would, really?

( We barely slept at all the entire night. )

I won't break the lock tonight.

I'll drink tea instead.

He's bored.

( He's not unhappy, not really, just bored. )

He's not chained to me. That lock on the chest with it's old iron key isn't holding him to Scotland, and as much as I wish that I could keep him here in the country, he won't be happy. So a commute out of the country would do, and he'd still be home every night. Happy is much more important to me.

We're going to have to talk about this. Though I should give him more time. A few more weeks, I suppose...

Dear Ife,

Of course Cici's friend was perfectly exquisite, and of course nothing came of it. Before we parted ways at the concert hall, Cici whispered to me, "One day I shall find the bewitching thief who holds the skeleton key to the rusted iron lock of your adamantine heart." She was smiling pleasantly as she said it but there was an unmistakable note of threatening resolve in her voice. What has until now been a mildly entertaining diversion for her has now become a challenge. And we all know how competitive and stubborn she is.

This is all very tiresome.

B.

Mr Akrash is to be waiting here, sir, is to be waiting very quietly with his iron box while Issy is getting Master Draco.

Mr Akrash is not to be talking or walking about as Master Draco is wanting his visit to be very quiet and secret-like. Master Draco will be coming down himself with the key for to be opening the box from Dr Telugu.

Shh! Mr Akrash is to be quietly waiting.