Inheritance

It was an unusual thing--a beautiful summer day, a day off, and a girls' day out for Khaat alone with Abbey without being hovered around with bodyguards--all at the same time.  The plan was simple.  Have fun, stay out in the public eye, in sight of a great many others--to reduce risk.  Oh, and take the bird along.

Khaat had chosen simply for herself.  Jeans, sandals, a white gauze shirt. Abbey was excited, though.  Her grandma had made her a new dress in her favorite colors. It was pink gingham, and Grandma had hand embroidered Abbey's favorite food on it--bright red strawberries.  There were even pink laces in her white shoes.  Her long blond hair had just a slight wisp of natural curl to the ends.  Khaat didn't know who Abbey'd gotten the curl from. 

Khaat was a fiercely protective mother, and rarely did she take any of her children out of the large estate that they'd made into as impregnable a fortress as they knew how.  Today, therefore, was a rare treat for both of them.  Abbey had had two requests--ice cream, and more storybooks.  She dearly loved when "Papa" read to her, and she wanted new books.  Khaat whistled for Archangel, and the bird obediently landed on her shoulder.  Khaat drew her wand and ported them to Diagon Alley, to Flourish and Blotts. 

The store was typically crowded today.  She wasn't sure why. If there were a sale, she'd missed the notice.  Abbey was utterly fascinated with the traditional wizard dress that her family didn't wear except if there were no other choice.  Abbey was momentarily distracted,  watching a woman with a hat that Khaat thought looked a bit too much like the sorting hat--except it was a deep burgundy color. 

"Don't you want a storybook?" Khaat bent down and asked Abbey softly.  Abbey looked up at her mother and nodded firmly.  The child was independent and far too intelligent for her own good.  "This way, then," Khaat said, keeping a hold of Abbey's hand. She led her upstairs through the crowded shop.  As she passed some of the other customers, her nose caught a strong scent.  Something objectionable.  Abbey had caught it too. She had stopped and was looking around, wrinkling her nose. 

"Doggies, Mama," Abbey said, not liking the smell. 

Even the eagle on her shoulder was looking back, on alert.  "Come, Abbey," Khaat said gently, trying to see if she could detect if there was something to run from or not.

They were almost to the aisle of children's storybooks, when a strong hand clutched her by the shoulder. 

"I'm not interested in the tidbit," the deep gravely voice said, the foul breath hot against her ear.  The only thing worse than his breath was his body odor.  "You can leave her behind, or I'll take you both.  Its all the same to me."  She could feel claws starting to dig deeply into the skin on her shoulder.  Archangel was ready to strike to defend her. She froze, merely shifting her eyes to see a very tall, overmuscled, much too hairy figure pressed tight against her.  When she hesitated, he tugged sharply on her to try to drag her and Abbey both off. 

"No, wait," Khaat said, determined to protect her child.  "Abbey, see the books? Go find something you like, Sweetheart."  She was working to sound chipper and happy.  She released her grip on Abbey's hand reluctantly, and the child burst ahead to the shelves of storybooks, plopped down on the store carpet and began yanking storybooks and scattering them in the aisles happily as she began looking for several that would appeal to her and to "Papa."  Khaat was relieved that Abbey was oblivious to the threat.  "Protect," Khaat commanded Archangel, pointing to Abbey. The bird glided off her shoulder and landed on the floor and began strutting on the books, squawking at Abbey.

"Archie! Mine," Abbey was irritated with the regal bird, trying to yank books out from under him.  The hand on Khaat's shoulder dug deeper into her skin, and led her forcefully down the backstairs and out into the alley behind the store, leaving Khaat's three year old daughter to be supervised by "Archie," while Khaat's heart pounded in her throat, wondering if she'd ever see her daughter alive again, or if she'd see anyone again for that matter.

Despite the initial overcastting gloom, the day was shaping up to be quite gorgeous and as Elijah stepped out of the London townhouse he’d purchased not four months prior with his daughter hot on his heels, he found himself dreaming up a myriad of different places for them do go. Fauve had cut her hair but still managed to put her hair up in tall, optimistic ponytails that bobbed along behind her head. The bobbling on the hair bands were opposing colours but matched in a kind of bizarre way regardless and the pigtail-clad little girl batted at the pavement with her foot as she waited for her father to lock the door, impatient to get going and take full advantage of the day. Elijah didn’t make her wait any longer than necessary.

The first port of call was the owl emporium where Elijah had to check on the owl he’d ordered for Thierry for school. It wasn’t an owl – more that it was some sort of Rook or Crow. The boy had expressed his desire to own one and Elijah was quick to comply, well aware of the sneaky intelligence that both birds possessed. He knew the saying – that dark wings brought dark words – but he also knew that it was important to ensure there was a bird lithe enough and smart enough to find and take advantage of any chance to escape from danger. Plus, they had the uncanny ability to blend. Unfortunately, stark white owls were never going to be as lucky so as far as the ever paranoid Deputy Minister was concerned, a Crow – or even a Rook – was a good, better choice.

After that it was a quick dash into the sweet shop for some gummy worms and then to Flourish and Blotts which, according to the Owl Elijah had received that morning, had finally gotten in the canvas he’d ordered. He’d asked for something from the very South of Britain; made in the countryside using the strangest of canvas ingredients. Yet it worked, he’d been told, and so for a collection he decided to abandon the French canvas and travel the UK for a while, enjoying the sights and stalling to paint that which he found diverting and interesting. But he’d do that next summer, he promised himself, when things were different, when life was fixed.

Fauve immediately darted off towards the children’s section, caught between that and the reference section as well as a few bits of more grown-up literature. It was her home base though in terms of reading and Elijah couldn’t begrudge her of it. After sending off one of the shop assistants into the back for his order, Elijah dropped his hands into the pockets of his trousers, shoving the grey blazer he wore to either side of his torso, and made his way through the shop towards the brightly decorate children’s section and to Fauve who was ferreting around in a box that announced on the placard above that it was a Sickle per book – a bargain.

Elijah’s eyes swept idly around the area and fell upon quite a bizarre sight but a highly familiar one: that infernal bird. Fauve jogged to Elijah’s side, a bundle of books in hand, and the wizard called over a basket for her to dump her spoils into. She took it from him immediately and grabbed at his hand before leading him around the area – stopping beside another box of books that she became highly, highly interested in.

“Abbey?” Elijah’s eyebrows furrowed deep over his dark eyes and he sank down into a crouch, his hand coming to fall onto the little blonde’s shoulder. Fauve looked up from the box and cocked her head to the side curiously before realising indeed that it was Abbey Dent – or Lupin or whatever it was now. She grinned brightly at the girl and offered her one of the books in her hands – some sort of childhood extension of friendship, Elijah supposed.

“Where’s your mum, Abs?” Elijah asked, focusing on the task at hand. Khaat was gone, the bird was there though. But regardless, Khaat wouldn’t leave her daughter. “Has she gone in search of a book?”

Abbey was getting quickly irked at the bird that was walking on the books she'd tossed all over the floor.  And then she felt someone touch her shoulder and heard a voice. She looked around. 

"Unca Eli?" she brightened. "Hi!"  Abbey generally wasn't afraid of much of anything, and she loved seeing friends and family. Of Khaat's children, Abbey was the most outgoing.  She saw Fauve offer her a book  It had cute bugs illustrated on the cover.

"Ooooh. Bugs! 'Sanks!" Her little face beamed back at Fauve at the sight of the offered book.  "Papa likes bugs. He gots lots of bugs. He likes bug books."

She took the book and laid it beside her on the floor, where Archangel proceeded immediately to walk on that book too.  She sighed, rolling her eyes at the bird.  "Go 'way, Archie," she tried to shoo the bird away, and he screeched at her. He'd been assigned, and he wasn't leaving her.

Uncle Eli had asked a question, though. Where was Mama?

"Mama? Nah," Abbey said, trying now to shove the bird off her books.  The bird screeched at her again and flapped its enormous wings in mutual irritation.

"Naughty Archie," she said.  "I no know, Unca Eli.  She go'd for a walk with a man.  He stinked--bad. And he furry. She made Archie stay here, and she go'd for a walk with that man.  She better not bring him with us to get ice cream.  He need soap.  He naughty too. And scary.  I no like him. I no think Mama like him either."

Blinking rapidly, Elijah swept his eyes over Abbey, trying to discern whether she was hurt at all. She seemed chipper enough and her skin unblemished beyond the childhood bruises that fearlessness and an explorative heart incurred. He pursed his lips, his eyebrows furrowing low over his eyes as he processed what she had said. It could’ve been anyone but at the same time, Elijah thought he had a good idea of who the furry man was.

Taking his wallet from his pocket, Elijah took a golden stud from one of the small pockets sewn into it. It was a pretty little thing; more broach-like than anything else but not big enough to really warrant that title. It had antlers spreading out from the centre in a circling formation that caught every inch of light that dared strike it. He reached forward and pinned it to Abbey’s t-shirt, careful not to stab her skin. He pressed the middle of it, pushing in the Ministry crest, and in doing so alerted any Aurors lingering in the Dept. of Law and Enforcement know exactly where we were.

Elijah smiled easily, finding it feeling rather forced on his mouth but smiled nonetheless.

“Pick any and as many books that you want, Abbey. Uncle Eli will pay for it,” he assured her. “Then we’ll go and have some ice cream while we wait for your mum. How does that sound? She’ll be with us in a little while.”

Elijah’s eyes flicked about and he rose from where he had knelt down to scan the immediate area outside the shop through the windows. His eyes narrowed at a flash of gold and he could have sworn he saw the tail of a dog disappear between two shops that were shoulder to shoulder, creating an alley that truly wasn’t big enough for anyone human to squeeze down. Elijah decided he’d bide his time, first. The Aurors knew where he was. If he pressed it a second time, he figured they’d be on their way. Understandably, he was nervous, but he couldn’t just run after Khaat. He needed to stay with the girls and keep them safe first. 

Abbey watched with keen interest as Eli pinned the little broach on her.  She loved the sparkles.  And the symbol--she'd seen that before.  Almost daily. 

"Oooh.  Like Papa's," she beamed.  "And Mama's.  Papa wear his when he goes to work.  Mama never wear hers."  Abbey often had fiddled with the little pin on Robert's suit jacket, but he had only let her touch the golden edges.  Still, she'd spun the silly thing around in circles endlessly on his coat while he read to her. 

When Uncle Eli said he would buy her as many books as she wanted, her face lit up like Christmas morning.  She picked three books.  She counted the books on her little fingers. She chose the bug book Fauve had showed her, some book that had mice at a tea party on the cover, and, of course, a book with kitties on the cover.  Then she double checked the number of books with the first three fingers on her hand, counting them meticulously.

"I get this many..." she showed him her three fingers.  "'Cause I am this many!"  She was proud of the fact that she was now three, and, according to Mama, she was a big girl now. Not too big--just right.

"I no like doggies, Unca Eli," she said, trying to shove the rejected books that were scattered in the aisle out of her way. "They scared-ed me one time in my yard.  Unca Ed killed-ed the doggie dead 'cause Daddy no like them when they come in the yard. Can we have ice cream with berries?"  Her three year old brain had made a giant leap from doggies and Uncle Ed to berries without any hesitation whatsoever.

Khaat wasn't happy that she was being dragged into a filthy alley by some hybrid.  She had gone only to make sure Abbey would not be in his clutches.  Now she fully intended to make sure he could not return for her child.  She attempted to spin quickly out of his grasp, but claws or teeth, one or the other, sank into her shoulder before she could move. 

She reacted with a violent kick with her stiletto heel to the man's shin.  He let out a growl and a string of obscenities, letting go of her momentarily. She tried again, managed to get free, and spun around, drawing her wand.

"What the hell do you want?" she demanded, tiring of his constant recurrence in her life.  "Haven't we killed enough of you yet?"

The easy contentedness of children was something Elijah was always going to be glad of. He wished that Fauve was as senselessly pleased with a broach and the offer of as many books as she desired. The girl was older, less naive, and far more observant than Elijah ever gave her credit for. Her furtive glances at the bird and at Abbey broke up the stream of rifling through the bins of books. It was as though she was waiting for something happen. Elijah, though unwilling to admit it, felt much the same way.

“That’s right,” Elijah indulged Abbey with a smile that looked like more of a grimace on his lips though he carried it regardless. He let Abbey busy herself with the books and took them from her once she’d picked what she wanted. Fauve had a much broader collection and was certainly pushing her luck but Elijah wasn’t going to rebuff her if it was books that she wanted. At least it wasn’t something ridiculous. “Okay, c’mon then,” Elijah put his hands underneath Abbey’s arms and smiled at her. “Whoosh!” He called as he lifted her up into the air.

The man then leaned down and picked up the books Fauve had put into the basket along with Abbey’s and the girl hurried ahead of him as he meandered behind, listening to Abbey talk about the dogs. It struck Elijah as fairly ironic that she didn’t like dogs when her father, essentially, was one and she carried much of the same genes.

“I’m not a big fan of dogs either, to be honest.” He told her with an easy smile. “I prefer kitties, really,” He told her conspiratorially. “Would you like one?”

It was best to keep the pair of them occupied, he figured. That way he could keep an eye out for Khaat and formulate a plan. But what could he do?

"A kitty? Yeah," she nodded. "I want lots of kitties.  Unca Eli, that furry man--is he a doggie too? Like the ones Unca Ed kills in my yard? He let Mama come back?"

The child was starting to remember that sometimes the 'doggies' in her yard, when they came, killed some of Papa's friends.  And when that happened, those friends hadn't come back.  Maybe the furry man wouldn't let Mama come back either.

As Uncle Eli carried her towards the front of the store, she heard the little ring of the shop bell.  She watched an old wizard with a tall staff in his hand. He came in, with a white retriever beside him.  A clerk stopped stacking new books and reached down and stroked the retriever. 

"Good morning, Mr. Ridley," the clerk said. "How's old Tom today?"

"Arthritis is a bit stiff for him today, poor old boy," the old wizard patted the dog.  "D'Eath promised me a new potions for Tom to ease his pain a bit. Promised to have it ready today, and it couldn't come too soon.  Did my books arrive, Lad?"  The clerk nodded and went to look for the special order.

"Puppy!" Abbey whispered into Uncle Eli's ear. "We gots puppies in the barn.  A mama puppy and baby puppies. Daddy make them stay in the barn so the doggies don't get them. He no want the doggies to eat them."


"What do I want?" The beast echoed, unbelieving, glaring hatefully at Khaat, "You should know by now what I want.  You can keep killing us and we will keep coming.  And keep coming.  And keep coming.  I want your kind as dead as you've wanted mine.  You tell your blessed father that I will keep picking all of your kind off, one by one if I have to."

"You aren't going to kill anyone," she leveled her wand right at his heart.  He took it only as a challenge, and began to laugh with cynical amusement.  She looked at him, and watched a change that only few wizards had ever seen.  Her fear began to rise up, and she began to try to grasp hold of it.  She didn't feel skilled enough to tackle this.  "Either send your message or kill me," she managed to be sharp tongued and sarcastic all the same.

It was difficult to save face around children when they read you like the open book you were. Elijah was understandably and visibly worried but it was something that Abbey had either chosen to ignore or just hadn’t really taken much notice of. Fauve, however, was much more intuitive in that respect and had noted the change in her father’s body language. Regardless of it, she said nothing and Elijah moved them through the line, idly wondering whether to take his badge from his pocket to hurry up the whole process and get them out.

People came and went in the line and soon enough one of the tills opened up for Elijah. He ushered Fauve over and helped her put the books on the counter. Soon enough, they were totalled and Elijah handed over the gold for them before wandering out of the bookshop, absorbing all that Abbey had been saying to him. Outside, Elijah took Fauve’s hand and waited, his eyes scanning for Khaat - but she was nowhere to be found.

“What do these doggies look like Abbey?” Elijah asked as he took them up through the alley towards the ice cream shop. “Not like normal puppies or like normal puppies?”

Abbey was mesmerized by the usual daily scuttling of witches and wizards, many of them who were carrying some sort of magical creature. Abbey knew many of them because 'Gam' had lots of them, and they were in her books. She wasn't quite so familiar with, though, the time honored traditional dress of black robes and pointed hats.  She curled just a little tighter into Eli, a trifle overwhelmed by it all. She was also straining to try to find Mama, who appeared to be gone completely.

"Archie!" she looked up and saw the bird.  The bird screeched, causing several others to look up at it.  "Go get Mama!" The bird glanced down at the child and ignored her instruction. His orders had come from Khaat.  He had been trained that the 'Protect' command superseded all others and could not be removed that easily.  He continued to fly overhead.  

"Stupid bird," she muttered, frustrated. Uncle Eli had asked a question, though. Papa always expected an answer if he asked a question, so she guessed Uncle Eli might expect an answer too.  "That doggie big," she said, remembering how he'd towered over both of them in the bookstore. " Way big.  He bigger than Daddy.  He gots big teeth, and he mean.  He came-d before--to my yard and brought doggies with him, and they put their fur on.  He take-d me and was gonna eat me.  I cried.  Daddy and Papa got mad. Unca Jack made him put me down. He gots scary long fingers. Like this..." She showed him both hands, wiggling her little fingers, trying to imitate claws. "I no go out no more. I stay in the house."

She had another thought, and that one was scary. She laid her head on his shoulder.  "I no want him eat my mama," she said quietly. "But she all gone."

Khaat's captor didn't respond. He remained frozen. She grew annoyed.  Her daughter was alone in the bookstore. She muscled him aside enough to pass by him and fully intended to just walk away.  

The next she knew she felt claws sinking deep into the flesh in her shoulder, pinning her fast. She hadn't been entirely unprepared that he might not let her pass, and that had hurt.  It took her breath sharply, not even allowing her to cry out.  

"You are finished," he hissed in her ear. "See how powerless you really are? And you know what you're up against." He laughed. "It is going to be so, so easy to take what is ours.  And we are coming. You all have a choice. Join...Or die."  He yanked hard on the shoulder that he was impaling and tossed her behind him, releasing her to slam into the brick wall of the alley.  Things had gone black for her just for an instant.

She woke in a heap, on a pile of old clothes, and some old rags covered in what smelled a great deal like Eli's paint thinner.  She was alone now.  He was gone. She breathed with a sense of temporary relief.

She looked at her shoulder. Blood was starting to stream down her shoulder in front and in back.  Four claw wounds in front, one in back.  She could not go out into Diagon Alley like this without starting a panic.  She rooted through the stack of rags and of . The stinking rags were, honestly, the cleanest. She stuffed a wad of them under her shirt, under her bra strap to hold them in place. She kept rooting through the clothes and at the bottom was an old heavy winter cloak, perhaps only kept for a century or two.  It was designed for someone much shorter and stockier than she was.  But it was the only thing that she cold find that might well hide the bloodstain on her clothes. She draped it around herself, not liking the mothball smell, and drew herself to her feet.

She had to find Abbey. She headed back for the bookstore where she'd left her.

Elijah had never particularly enjoyed Werewolves; they always succeeded in getting the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention. It was a hazard that came with being a Wizard, he supposed: Wizards didn’t like Werewolves and vice versa. Understandably, he was scared of them - cats had never liked dogs and wouldn’t, ever. The prejudice was ingrained, however, and no matter whether it was the kindest Werewolf ever to grace the earth, Elijah Krum couldn’t and wouldn’t trust it.

The thought that Abbey had been exposed to them at such a tender age disturbed the Deputy Minister to the core. He bit his lip at the thought and reached down to scoop Fauve up into his arms also, determined that if Werewolves were in the area, they’d have to pry the girls from his cold, dead hands before they got to them.

The ice cream parlour was heaving and Elijah managed to find a seat outside despite the busy nature of the shop. The girls took their seats either side of him and happily bobbed in their chairs as the waitress brought over the ice creams that Elijah had ordered.

“The doggies can’t hurt you when you’re with me, Abbey.” Elijah assured her with a gentle smile.

He leaned over to her, smiling as he let her in on a secret. “I’m a kitty, you see. Doggies don’t like kitties. They get the shivers.”

Looking up at the sky, Elijah frowned at the bird fluttering overhead. Idly, he wondered how much effort it would take to bring the creature down and make him his Animagus’ next meal. Elijah knew the bird would be invaluable in finding Khaat, however, and making sure that she found them.

“Go and get Khaat, Archangel. Abbey is safe with me. Protect Khaat. Bring her back here.”