Author's Note: It's Pat Benatar, Kellybear
C'mon hit me with your best shot
Neways kiddies, I've been working like a horse, and here you have them. I apologize for any typos, feel free to point them out
I will fix them. They haven't been betaed but I thought I'd give you all something since it will be a while before I can post again. Remember this is still HBP and someone please remind me this is steampunk
As promised, these posts are lovingly dedicated to Lari.
But only if they don't suck.
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“And you say that life has things this strong,
I can recount to you how a flame is from inside,
I can tell you how much fire weighs,
And it’s just that loving in solitude,
Is like a hole without a bottom,
Where not even God exists …”
Alejandro Sanz, “To the first person” trans. Ottery St. Catchpole with apologies to the author Chapter: You’re out of touch, I’m out of time, but I’m out of my head when you’re not around …
The thunder crackled in the sky, the rain pouring like sheets of tears and sorrow, as a red car drove around the cliff. The ocean waves slapped against the shore against a cliff rising high above the wild waters in the darkness where the old castle stood against the force of elements unleashed on that dark night. He never liked the place, it reminded him too much of Azkaban. Still, he was happy not to have to be walking in this rain, not that his slicker robes couldn’t repel all the water, it was fun watching it do it, too, all the water sliding like off a duck’s back.
“You don’t have to visit with him,” the girl remarked. "I could go disguised as you. You’re too valuable …”
“While I’m flattered you seem to think so Nymphadora I can assure you that no one is that important to our cause,” the older man replied.
“Just the same, if you’re not out in an hour I’m popping in and blasting everything until I find you,” the girl replied with less gusto than she would have wanted. Her words seemed less powerful and she herself seemed distracted.
“Is everything all right, Nymphadora?” Her old headmaster asked with great concern in his voice.
“They’ve just been working us too hard at the ministry, you know Scrimgeour doesn’t like us moonlighting, but he can’t really do anything to stop us.”
“Yes. It is rather very difficult trying to serve two masters.” The old wizard paused and looked at the bedraggled girl under the enchanted umbrella. Once one of his most talented students. “You do know that if there’s anything you need to talk about you can always come to me.”
She nodded.
Dumbledore sighed. “Then I’d best be off, the time has come and I do pride myself on my punctuality.” In an instant he was gone, apparating outside the large oaken gates of the castle.
“I don’t need your help,” the aged wizard replied politely, if it had been possible to hear the tone of his voice you would have noticed the distinct lack of warmth.
“You might change your mind when I tell you about one of yours,” the man replied, cajoling.
“I don’t bargain with people’s lives,” the older wizard replied coldly, dropping any semblance of cordiality as if it were some disgusting thing he did not want soiling his blackened hand.
“I’m not the one doing the threatening old man,” the younger wizard replied. “Please, drink your tea, headmaster. It isn’t poisoned. I assure you. I would not have called you here if I did not think we had a similar foe.” The man was in his thirties, dressed in simple black robes, a kind of suit, as if he were a business man, and indeed he was. A prominent muggle businessman by day, with many vested interests in the wizarding world, thus his concern for the outcome of the war.
“Though we share enemies it does not mean we see eye to eye on the future of the wizarding world,” Dumbledore replied, lifting the cup to his mouth his eyes wandered around the room. It was an impossibly high ceilinged chamber, a large fireplace, with the help of magic, warmed the large space filled by the small table they were sitting at. All around them large wizard tapestries depicting knights fighting dragons, and wizards fighting muggle oppression, and the Bolshevik revolution, suits of armor in between the tapestries and large rugs on the floor, but otherwise an empty room.
“Be that as it may be, we are united against a common foe, are we not?” the old wizard didn’t nod and the man took his silence as assent, “So, why not ally our considerable resources to putting a stop to this usurper, this pretender.”
“Because then I would be giving you a foot in the door, so to speak, into the Order and the proper wizarding world. I won’t allow that, unless you meet my concessions.”
“Again you harp on that old man. This is a war we’re in, you can’t seriously …”
“No killing. No stealing. No …”
“What are you the Pope? Some kind of Christian conservative?”
“What I am is ever hopeful that you might come back into the fold,” Dumbledore replied, taking another sip of his tea.
“After what the Death Eaters did to … you have … do you have any idea …?” the man gripped the table and taking deep breaths. “I’m sorry, but …”
“I was there Sebastian. And I tell you, you’ve nothing to gain from lowering yourself to their tactics, and fighting them with their own dark magic.”
“I do not condone the use of dark magic except …”
“As a means to an end. And how much different is that from the wizards we’re trying to fight?” The headmaster retorted gently placing his cup on the saucer on the table and helping himself to a biscuit.
“We’ve argued these philosophies for a long time old man,” the stranger said looking away.
“For a very long time, Sebastian, but I remain …”
“I know. Ever hopeful,” the man laughed a little, the sarcasm as clear as Dumbledore‘s stance.
♥ End note: I'm listening to this aggravatingly cool CD that has all these 80's songs but not the whole song, and they're all by the original artists which makes it all the more aggravating because I love all the songs but I can't hear them completely *aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh* *Teddy explodes Itunes* Next chapter is for Si & Lissylove cuz they remind me of
Abra Abra Cadabra ... I want to reach out and grab ya