Fireside notes
dfrankiswork at netscape.net
dfrankiswork at netscape.net
Fri Apr 26 12:54:48 UTC 2002
We were sitting chatting around the fire in the high security mental wing at St Mungo's the other day. Somebody said 'Lovely day today', and somebody else said 'Puts me in mind of a day thirty years ago when...' and one thing led to another, and there we were, talking about the war again.
It's always a bit sticky when we talk about the war. Some of the wounds still seem so fresh, even after all this time. And those old unsolved mysteries nag away at the back of our minds like an infestation of Chizpurfles. We went round and round the same old ground.
'Those six guys in the row who never turned up - did you ever sort out who they were, Walden?'
'No, but I think it was Igor who was the coward'
'No, that wasn't me, I was always pretty sure he meant you, Ludo'
There it was again. That great unspoken, that 'he', that he-who-must-not-be-mentioned. You never knew where you stood. Or where you knelt. Ask him what he was talking about and you might get rewarded with praise for giving him a chance to make a speech. Or you might just get a Crucio.
'Nope. Goblin trouble. You know how it is.'
'But we're agreed it was Severus who had left forever, aren't we?'
'No, Peter, that was me, it just wasn't true - I was just late, and when I came you'd all gone.'
Yeah. Like the DL had gone anywhere after that. The embarrassment. Pretending we hadn't seen those ghosts and congratulating him on his cunning plan to let HP get away thinking he'd won. Even worse than the time young Draco turned out to be waving his wand on the other side.
'Oh, Igor, pull the other one, you always were a coward.'
'So what about that other guy, what was his name? Rockwool? Could he be one of them?'
'Rookwood. Augustus. No, he was still in Az then. No, he mentioned good ol' happy families Mr and Mrs, though, didn't he?'
'A stroke of genius, saying "entombed in Az", wasn't it, and talking about honouring them when it was broken open? Everybody thought he meant they were still alive. As if. As if he ever really cared.'
'So what about Rosier then, Cornelius?'
'No, dead already. Thanks to barmy Alastor'
'Stop it, all of you! I've had enough. It just isn't the same without *him*. The camaraderie, the knowing that the guy next to you would stab you in the back given the chance, the screams, the not knowing how to pronounce the name...'
'Hey, hey, steady on, Avery. Here, let me help you: Crucio.'
'Aaaaaaaaargh'
'That better?'
'Ah! Ah! yes, a little, thank you, Lucius. I know you all mean well, but you just can't manage his exquisite touch.'
It was at this point that I finally Cracked. It had been on my mind ever since young Potter had put us there. I had to ask it. The question I'd been biting back.
'Which one of us is Mulciber?'
Silence
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