The Case of the Blown-Up Cottage
Part 11by Cyberwolf (wolf at mydestiny.net)
12/1/02
'He should have been a Slytherin,' Genevieve Malfoy thought,
half in irritation, half in admiration.
She was of course referring to Lock Holmes, and this,
incidentally, wasn't the first time she had thought about that.
And what had set off the observation this time was how well Lock
was covering his tracks.
It had been two months since she'd first suspected her friend -
as much as the term could apply - of being up to something. And,
contrary to how things usually went, she'd found out very little
since then.
She was sure of one thing, though. Lock was looking for
something. And he needed access to the Restricted Section to find it.
Genevieve sighed, and leaned her cheek against one slim hand.
She cocked her head to the side, thoughtfully regarding the boy across
the Hall.
'What, Lock? What are you looking for?'
"Here you go, sir," and Lock placed three tightly-rolled
scrolls onto Dumbledore's desk, each scroll at least five feet
long and covered with the even, flourish-less writing of his
bespelled quill.
The redhaired professor looked up and smiled at Lock. "Punctual
as always, Mr Holmes." He took the scrolls, depositing them into
a drawer already full of Lock's research. He'd have to dedicate
yet another drawer to him soon.... "This will be your last drop-off
for quite some time, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir," Lock said. Christmas break was coming up, and he
would be heading back to Sussex to spend it with his family. He'd
actually been tempted to spend it here, at Hogwarts - he had some
research to do, after all - but the thought of his mother's
disappointment (and ire) halted that notion. Even if he had to
put up with Mycroft.
"Are you leaving on the train tomorrow, then?"
Lock nodded.
"Well, I suppose I had better give you your present now."
Lock's eyes widened. "Sir....?" he stammered, for once at a
loss. He began to back away, feeling uncomfortable. "Um,
professor...really...you don't have to...."
"Really, Lock, it's nothing. Consider it part of your salary
for your research. Why not? You've more than exceeded my
expectations, and I am considerably further along in my project,
thanks to you."
"But sir, I...I...."
Dumbledore, though not prone to yelling and looming and
inspiring fear like certain other professors whom Lock could
name, seemed somehow to always get his way. There were very few
students who turned in late homework two times in a row in his
class.
Which was probably why Lock found himself heading back to his
dorm with a small gift-wrapped box in his pocket. He'd open it at
home.
He smiled. That Professor Dumbledore was a good chap. Not
because of the present - Lock had always enjoyed his class,
because it was obvious the professor really knew what he was
doing. And of course, as Dumbledore himself had put it: 'I am
considerably further along in my project thanks to you.'
Quid pro quo, after all.
When the Hogwarts Express puffed into Hogsmeade after the
Christmas break, it disgorged crowds of Hogwarts students who
were noticeably quieter and more subdued than when they had
departed for home. Fear could be seen, with varying degrees, in
their eyes.
Except one boy's. Lock Holmes, his Hogwarts robes
uncharacteristically rumpled, stalked into the Great Hall with set
face and grim eyes.
Dumbledore looked at the student he had bid goodbye to only
weeks ago, and sighed. Of all the things to happen....
AN: I just realized that Lock's school environment is highly
implausible. For one thing, it's coed.
Um...could you just pretend that the wizarding world were much
more liberal than the Muggle world in the 19th Century?
On to part 12!
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