October Challenge Fic: Five Have a Magical Time
Title: Five Have a Magical Time
Author: lazy_neutrino
Rating: PG
Length: 3300 words
Summary: The Famous Five spot some sinister hooded shapes in masks storing suspicious-looking bundles and crates in a cave near their home. Can they foil the nefarious wiles of the Death Eaters in time? Prompt from dolorous_ett
Notes: Thanks to kennahijja for a very patient beta!
Crossover: Famous Five
Five Have a Magical Time
'George!'
'Anne! Julian! Dick!' A girl - or was it a boy? - leaned out of the window, shouting joyfully as the train drew into the station. 'Get down, Timmy. I said Timmy, get down!' The train had barely halted before George had jumped down onto the platform, accompanied by a huge dog which danced and barked in excitement.
'Isn't it super!' Anne cried. 'I can't believe how lucky we are! Where is Uncle Quentin's conference?'
'New York. He left yesterday.'
'And how is Aunt Fanny?' Anne asked, remembering her manners.
George frowned. 'She's much better,' she answered (for George was indeed a girl). 'She's going to spring-clean Kirrin Cottage while Uncle Quentin is away.'
'Oh, what fun!' Anne exclaimed. 'I love spring-cleaning.'
'It's a good thing somebody does,' Julian said. 'Let me take your case, George.'
'I can manage it,' George told him, 'Girls are just as good at carrying as boys are.'
Dick groaned. Anne and Julian exchanged glances.
'Father's away, too,' Anne said quickly. 'And Mother's leaving tomorrow. We'll be all on our own. Imagine the fun we're going to have!'
'I hope there'll be an adventure,' said Dick. He was a year younger than Julian and not yet as tall. He ran a hand through his dark hair. 'It'll be no fun without an adventure.'
Anne pouted. 'I hate adventures!'
Julian ruffled her hair affectionately. 'Poor old Anne!'
Poor old Anne, indeed!
--
There was a cheerful whistling from the paperboy as the local paper arrived with a thump on the mat. A frantic growling followed.
'Oh, Timmy.' George hurried into the porch. She returned a minute later, clutching a shredded newspaper. 'I'm sorry, Julian. He's chewed the crossword!'
'What's that?' Dick took the paper from her and spread it out on the breakfast table. 'Boy Wizard Still Missing,' he read. 'Oh, yes. There was a conjurer in town a few weeks ago. A dark-haired man, with a big nose. Anne thought he was foreign.'
Anne sniffed. 'I thought he was dirty. And I don't think men should have long hair.'
'He probably was foreign,' Julian said, pouring himself a glass of orange squash. 'But the boy with him looked English. He had fair hair and a pointy chin.'
George looked puzzled. 'What would an English boy be doing with a foreigner? That sounds queer to me.'
'They're not together any more,' Julian pointed out. 'The conjurer reported him missing three days ago. The police have been looking everywhere. Dick and I helped them search the woods for clues, but we didn't find any.' He frowned. 'I see those country house burglaries are still going on. Colonel Fortescue had his silver plate taken last night.' He pushed his breakfast away. 'I say, what a glorious day. Who's for a picnic on the cliffs?'
--
'This one should do.' Dick pulled out a battered red bicycle and looked at it thoughtfully. 'It was mine a couple of years ago. A bit small for me now, but it should do for you, George.'
'It looks perfect,' Julian said approvingly. 'D'you think you'll be able to manage the cross-bar?'
George gave him a scornful look. 'If you can do it, so can I!'
At that moment Timmy gave a low growl and began to scrape at the garage door. George knelt beside him. 'What is it, old boy?'
'I say!' Dick pointed through the window. 'It's that tramp chappie again. You remember, Ju. He was here yesterday.'
There was indeed a scruffy, unshaven man loitering in the lane. He was dressed in a ratty fur coat, Wellington boots and a porkpie hat.
'Better get rid of him before Anne sees him.' Dick looked at Julian.
Julian nodded. Leaning his bicycle carefully against the wall, he strode out of the garage. Dick and George pressed their noses to the window to watch.
'I say there! Julian called. 'You, fellow! Be off! There's no work for you here!'
The tramp said muttered something, and Julian said again, 'Off with you. Before I call Constable Wetherspoon.' The tramp slunk away down the lane.
--
It was indeed a glorious day. The four children cycled along the path that led to the clifftops, Timmy racing along beside them. He ran so close by George's side that she nearly swerved into Dick. How they laughed!
At last they sat on the cliff tops looking over the sea, and unwrapped the picnic. And what a picnic it was! There were potted meat sandwiches, and jam sandwiches too. There was a hard-boiled egg for everybody, including Timmy, and an apple, and an enormous slice of seed cake, all washed down with lashings of ginger beer.
'That was delicious, Anne,' said Dick, tucking his greaseproof paper carefully in his pocket. 'Even Mother couldn't have made a nicer picnic.' Timmy barked his agreement.
'What's that over there?' George pointed along the path to where something silver was glinting in the grass.
Dick went to investigate. 'It's a fish knife,' he said slowly, bending over to pick it up. 'By Jove, George, it's one of Colonel Fortescue's! Look, there's the family crest.'
George jumped to her feet. 'The thief must have hidden the plate somewhere round here!' she exclaimed. 'Let' see if he's left any tracks.' She and Dick ran off down the path.
Julian gave Anne an encouraging smile. 'Come on then,' he said. 'I think we'd better follow them before they get into any trouble.'
'Julian,' Dick called as they approached. 'Hey, Ju, come and look at this.' He pointed to a footprint on the muddy ground. 'This looks familiar!'
From his pocket, Julian produced a piece of string and a fountain pen. He knelt down and stretched the string out alongside the footprint, then marked the position of its heel and toe. Climbing to his feet, he stared at the string and frowned.
'What is it?' George cried.
'I think we’ve seen these feet before,' Julian told her. 'The tramp left a set of muddy footprints in the lane last week. Dick, you're the best one of us at drawing. Can you do a sketch of this footprint?'
'I can use my greaseproof paper.' Dick rummaged through his pockets for his fountain pen. 'You're right, Ju. Look at the pattern on the sole. It looks like hobnailed boots, and some of the nails are missing. I think the tramp we saw had hobnailed boots.'
Anne gave a tiny gasp. 'So it was the tramp that burgled Colonel Fortescue! How awful!'
'If it was, we've got enough evidence to prove it,' George declared. 'If we can find out where he's hidden the loot, think what a feather in our caps it would be!'
'That shouldn't be hard,' Dick remarked. 'Let's follow the footprints!'
Very soon, the four children - not forgetting the dog! - came almost to the edge of the cliffs, where the footprints petered out. George ran forward and peered over the edge.
'It's all right!' she cried. 'There's a little ledge here - I'm going to jump down - oh!'
'What is it, George?' Julian demanded.
'There's a secret passage! I can't see where it leads. This must be the tramp's hiding-place!'
'George, be careful. I don't think you should go off exploring on your own!'
'Don't be silly, Anne. This is just what we need to convince Constable Wetherspoon!' George's voice was getting fainter and fainter.
Julian sighed. 'Come on, then. We'd better go after her before she gets into trouble!'
'What are we going to do about Timmy?' Dick asked. 'He can't get down to the ledge.'
'He'll have to wait here,' Julian decided. Timmy whined, and his tail sank sadly to the ground. He loved adventures almost as much as George!
'I'll go down, first,' Julian continued. 'Then you, Anne, and Dick can bring up the rear.'
--
The cave entrance was narrow, but they managed to squeeze inside. Feeling their way in the darkness, Julian discovered a passage at the back, leading down, and they began to pick their way carefully over the loose rock.
Anne shuddered. 'We'd better make sure we don't get trapped here.'
'Ssssh!' Julian hissed. 'There's a light ahead.'
There was indeed. As they rounded a corner, a shadow detached itself from the rock and touched Julian on the shoulder.
'It's that boy,' George whispered. 'He's in a cage in the cave.'
'Kidnapped!' Julian observed. 'That tramp has some explaining to do! We'd better go and see.'
The fair-haired boy had his back to them. Julian called out a quiet Coo-ee, and the boy jumped and turned round.
'Don't be frightened,' Anne said in a kind voice as they walked across to his cage. 'We're here to rescue you.' What an odd-looking boy, she thought. He had grey eyes and a pointed chin, and was wearing some sort of gown. 'Is that your costume from the magic show?' she asked.
The boy stared at her and didn't answer.
'Are there keys for this cage?' Julian had tried the door without success, and was looking around the cave. 'Maybe behind those barrels over there?'
'No,' the boy answered. 'You cast a spell and the door opens. Stupid Mudbloods.'
'There's no need to be rude,' Anne said.
The boy sneered at her. 'There's no need to be stupid. Though I suppose you can't help it.'
'That's enough!' Julian declared. 'We've come here to rescue you, but I'm jolly tempted to leave you in that cage and let the police sort everything out.'
'Why did they kidnap you?' Anne asked.
The boy shrugged. 'To punish my parents. I was supposed to do something and I failed, so they're going to kill me.'
'Kill you!' Anne gasped in horror.
The boy grinned, showing pointed white teeth. 'I was supposed to kill someone else. Does that bother you, Mudblood?'
'You're a horrid boy,' Anne told him. 'You're perfectly horrid, and I don't believe a single word you've said. Didn't anyone tell you it's not nice to tell lies!'
'Hey, Julian,' George called softly from across the cave. 'Come and look at this.' She had managed to prise a large chest open with her penknife and was peering inside.
'What is it?'
'Silver,' Dick replied. 'Lots and lots of silver. Not just Colonel Fortescue's. All the silver that's gone missing this summer, I should say.'
Julian stared down into the open chest. He whistled. 'This is bigger than we thought. I think it's time we fetched the police.'
'I'm afraid it's too late for that, child,' said a voice behind him. Anne screamed. A man was standing in the centre of the cave, almost as if he had appeared out of thin air. He was enormously tall, with rounded shoulders and long arms that hung by his sides. His hair was matted and his face was filthy with dirt. He smiled a hideous smile, revealing yellowing teeth.
Julian stepped forward, and put an arm around Anne's shoulders. 'You'd better get out,' he said. 'The police will be here very soon.'
The stranger smiled. 'I'm not frightened of your police.'
'How did you get here?' asked Dick. 'You didn't come through the passage and there's no other way in. Is there a secret door?'
The boy in the cage laughed. The stranger rounded on him. 'Quiet!' The boy flinched and turned pale.
'I don't need doors,' the stranger said. 'I go where I please, and no-one keeps me out. You might call it magic.'
George snorted. 'What rot! You're nothing better than a thief and a smuggler.' She pointed to the chest and the barrels. 'That's why your loot is here, isn't it? You're going to smuggle it out of the country.'
The stranger chewed thoughtfully on a long curved fingernail. 'You're quite clever for a Muggle. But not clever enough. Silver is harmful to me. I have… friends… who are going to turn it into something else.'
'More rubbish!' retorted George. 'You can't turn one thing into another! My father says so, and he's a famous scientist, so he should know!'
The stranger smiled again. 'How fascinating,' he said. 'I must pay a visit to your father, once I've finished here. But I am forgetting my manners. Shall we play a game? Children love games.' He bared his teeth at Anne, making her shrink back in fright. 'What about hide and seek?' He turned to the boy in the cage. 'Draco, would you like to join in?'
'No,' said the boy, backing away from the bars. 'No.'
'What a pity. I suppose I'll have to save you for later.' He stepped forwards and looked down at Anne. 'What a pretty girl. Are you frightened of me?'
Anne stared up at him. 'Not at all,' she said in the bravest voice she could manage.
'You will be. Let's play. You can hide around here.' He gestured at the chests and barrels with a long fingernail. 'I'll count to - fifty? A hundred? Twenty.' Anne's eyes darted towards the passage through which they had come and the man smiled. 'By all means, try and escape if you want to. You'll have to get past me first.' He stepped back. 'One… two…'
He reached out a hand and extinguished the flickering torch on the wall.
--
'Nineteen… twenty.'
Anne shoved her hand into her mouth to stop herself sobbing. She was shaking with fright. The stranger took a few steps towards the barrels and then stopped. She heard him sniffing the air. Beside her she could hear someone else's breathing - short, sharp, panicked gasps. Her heart pounded.
The stranger took another step forward. A foul scent washed over Anne, choking her. She pressed herself against the sharp rock of the cave until it cut through her dress, trying to make herself as small and flat as possible, her eyes screwed shut. I'm not here, she thought desperately. This is a rock. You haven't seen me. Go away.
Time seemed to stop. After an eternity, she heard the stranger take a step back. She breathed out, as slowly and quietly as possible. Where was he? She opened her eyes - and screamed as he grabbed her by the collar, dragging her off the ground and over the barrels until she dangled before him, struggling and kicking at the air. He lifted her to face him and stared into her eyes.
'Your eyes glitter in the darkness,' he whispered, running his fingers through her hair. 'No, don't close them now. Let me look at you.'
'Now!' A shape cannoned out of the shadows, knocking her attacker backwards. 'Leave my sister alone, you rotter!' Anne scrambled to her feet and ran towards the passageway as Julian thumped the stranger with a candlestick. 'Silver's harmful to you, is it? Take that and that - and that!' Grunts and thumps told her that Dick and George had entered the fray. Anne patted her hair back into shape with trembling hands and wondered what to do.
'Psst, Mudblood,' a voice hissed. It was the pale boy. 'Get my wand!' Anne gaped. 'Oh, for heaven's sake,' the boy muttered. 'There's a stick hanging on the wall over there. I need it.'
Anne felt her way to the other side of the cage. There was indeed a stick hanging there, just as the boy - Draco - had said. 'Are you going to pick the lock with it?' she asked, as she unhooked it and passed it through the bars.
'Something like that.' Draco pointed the stick at the lock and mumbled something. The cage door flew open. Anne stared.
'Don't worry.' Draco grinned. 'If you survive, they'll Obliviate you.' He turned to run down the passageway. Anne grabbed his arm.
'Wait!' she protested. 'You can't just run away and leave us.'
Draco considered. 'All right,' he acknowledged. 'Fair's fair. Even with Mudbloods, I suppose.' He pointed the stick at the struggling figures on the floor and hissed something that sounded like Stupid Pie. The man went limp, just as George brought a decanter down upon his head.
'That's done it, George. You've knocked him out. Good work.' Julian sat back on his haunches and surveyed the unconscious man. 'I think it's time we got Constable Wetherspoon. That man's a dangerous lunatic. He ought to be locked up.'
'That's all right, young man. We'll take care of it from here.' Anne jumped backwards with a squeak. The tramp was standing in the passageway, one hand clamped firmly on Draco's shoulder. 'And Professor McGonagall will be pleased to see you,' he said to the boy.
'I don't understand,' George said slowly. 'Are you a plain-clothes detective?'
The tramp hesitated, and then nodded. 'Something like that. My name's Mundungus Fletcher. We've been trying to track down a gang of Death Eaters - er, that is, a criminal gang - in the area for a while. When Mr. Malfoy here was kidnapped, we knew we were on the right lines.'
'Criminals will do anything for money,' Julian observed in a lofty tone.
Detective Fletcher nodded. 'Exactly so, sir. I discovered their lair yesterday but was - ah - waiting for the gang to return so we could catch them in the act.'
'So that's why you were taking the fish-knives!' Dick exclaimed. 'You needed them for evidence!'
'Did you indeed, Mundungus?' An old lady in spectacles and a pointed hat pushed her way into the cave. 'How very interesting.' The tramp looked down at the ground, his face red. 'And how pleasant to see you again, Mr. Malfoy. It's time we took you back to Hogwarts and put Mr. Greyback under lock and key.'
'Mr. Greyback?' Julian looked down at the body on the ground. 'Is that his name?'
'It is, and he is indeed a lunatic, as you so astutely observed. But not as dangerous as he likes to think. You were in no real peril.' Behind the old lady, Draco began to say something, but it was quickly muffled by the detective's hand. 'Mr. Greyback likes to frighten children, but he is really very fond of them. The Ministry will be pleased to see him again.'
Anne remembered something. 'Hogwarts?' she asked.
The old lady beamed. 'I am the headmistress of a very old and very exclusive school,' she said. 'Until his disappearance, Draco was a pupil there. His parents will be glad to know that he is safe.' She looked around. 'I know that you will want to tell the police what you have found, but I think Detective Fletcher will ask you to wait for twenty-four hours so that he and his men can round up the rest of Mr. Greyback's gang of silver thieves. I am correct, am I not, Mundungus?
Detective Fletcher smiled weakly. 'Yes, Headmistress. That's exactly what I was going to say.'
--
'More orange squash?' Anne poured herself a glass and looked round the breakfast table.
Julian shook his head. 'Not for me, thanks. I couldn't eat or drink another thing. I say, Anne, that hairclip looks jolly nice, you know.'
Anne beamed. 'It was lovely of Colonel Fortescue to give us a reward. Your watches are nice, too.'
'They're not so dusty,' Julian agreed. 'And whoever thought of getting George a penknife with a dog carved on it is a genius. Though I don't know what Aunt Fanny will say. Girls ought not to have knives.'
There was a thump on the mat and Dick went out, to return a moment later with the paper. 'We're on the front page,' he declared, spreading the paper out for them to see and helping himself to a slice of buttered toast. 'Not a bad photo,' he said, a second later. 'By the way, Anne, you never did tell us how you got that cage door open. Jolly good show, that.'
Anne smiled, and brushed toast crumbs off the table. 'I don't think you'd believe me if I told you,' she said.
--
Author: lazy_neutrino
Rating: PG
Length: 3300 words
Summary: The Famous Five spot some sinister hooded shapes in masks storing suspicious-looking bundles and crates in a cave near their home. Can they foil the nefarious wiles of the Death Eaters in time? Prompt from dolorous_ett
Notes: Thanks to kennahijja for a very patient beta!
Crossover: Famous Five
Five Have a Magical Time
'George!'
'Anne! Julian! Dick!' A girl - or was it a boy? - leaned out of the window, shouting joyfully as the train drew into the station. 'Get down, Timmy. I said Timmy, get down!' The train had barely halted before George had jumped down onto the platform, accompanied by a huge dog which danced and barked in excitement.
'Isn't it super!' Anne cried. 'I can't believe how lucky we are! Where is Uncle Quentin's conference?'
'New York. He left yesterday.'
'And how is Aunt Fanny?' Anne asked, remembering her manners.
George frowned. 'She's much better,' she answered (for George was indeed a girl). 'She's going to spring-clean Kirrin Cottage while Uncle Quentin is away.'
'Oh, what fun!' Anne exclaimed. 'I love spring-cleaning.'
'It's a good thing somebody does,' Julian said. 'Let me take your case, George.'
'I can manage it,' George told him, 'Girls are just as good at carrying as boys are.'
Dick groaned. Anne and Julian exchanged glances.
'Father's away, too,' Anne said quickly. 'And Mother's leaving tomorrow. We'll be all on our own. Imagine the fun we're going to have!'
'I hope there'll be an adventure,' said Dick. He was a year younger than Julian and not yet as tall. He ran a hand through his dark hair. 'It'll be no fun without an adventure.'
Anne pouted. 'I hate adventures!'
Julian ruffled her hair affectionately. 'Poor old Anne!'
Poor old Anne, indeed!
--
There was a cheerful whistling from the paperboy as the local paper arrived with a thump on the mat. A frantic growling followed.
'Oh, Timmy.' George hurried into the porch. She returned a minute later, clutching a shredded newspaper. 'I'm sorry, Julian. He's chewed the crossword!'
'What's that?' Dick took the paper from her and spread it out on the breakfast table. 'Boy Wizard Still Missing,' he read. 'Oh, yes. There was a conjurer in town a few weeks ago. A dark-haired man, with a big nose. Anne thought he was foreign.'
Anne sniffed. 'I thought he was dirty. And I don't think men should have long hair.'
'He probably was foreign,' Julian said, pouring himself a glass of orange squash. 'But the boy with him looked English. He had fair hair and a pointy chin.'
George looked puzzled. 'What would an English boy be doing with a foreigner? That sounds queer to me.'
'They're not together any more,' Julian pointed out. 'The conjurer reported him missing three days ago. The police have been looking everywhere. Dick and I helped them search the woods for clues, but we didn't find any.' He frowned. 'I see those country house burglaries are still going on. Colonel Fortescue had his silver plate taken last night.' He pushed his breakfast away. 'I say, what a glorious day. Who's for a picnic on the cliffs?'
--
'This one should do.' Dick pulled out a battered red bicycle and looked at it thoughtfully. 'It was mine a couple of years ago. A bit small for me now, but it should do for you, George.'
'It looks perfect,' Julian said approvingly. 'D'you think you'll be able to manage the cross-bar?'
George gave him a scornful look. 'If you can do it, so can I!'
At that moment Timmy gave a low growl and began to scrape at the garage door. George knelt beside him. 'What is it, old boy?'
'I say!' Dick pointed through the window. 'It's that tramp chappie again. You remember, Ju. He was here yesterday.'
There was indeed a scruffy, unshaven man loitering in the lane. He was dressed in a ratty fur coat, Wellington boots and a porkpie hat.
'Better get rid of him before Anne sees him.' Dick looked at Julian.
Julian nodded. Leaning his bicycle carefully against the wall, he strode out of the garage. Dick and George pressed their noses to the window to watch.
'I say there! Julian called. 'You, fellow! Be off! There's no work for you here!'
The tramp said muttered something, and Julian said again, 'Off with you. Before I call Constable Wetherspoon.' The tramp slunk away down the lane.
--
It was indeed a glorious day. The four children cycled along the path that led to the clifftops, Timmy racing along beside them. He ran so close by George's side that she nearly swerved into Dick. How they laughed!
At last they sat on the cliff tops looking over the sea, and unwrapped the picnic. And what a picnic it was! There were potted meat sandwiches, and jam sandwiches too. There was a hard-boiled egg for everybody, including Timmy, and an apple, and an enormous slice of seed cake, all washed down with lashings of ginger beer.
'That was delicious, Anne,' said Dick, tucking his greaseproof paper carefully in his pocket. 'Even Mother couldn't have made a nicer picnic.' Timmy barked his agreement.
'What's that over there?' George pointed along the path to where something silver was glinting in the grass.
Dick went to investigate. 'It's a fish knife,' he said slowly, bending over to pick it up. 'By Jove, George, it's one of Colonel Fortescue's! Look, there's the family crest.'
George jumped to her feet. 'The thief must have hidden the plate somewhere round here!' she exclaimed. 'Let' see if he's left any tracks.' She and Dick ran off down the path.
Julian gave Anne an encouraging smile. 'Come on then,' he said. 'I think we'd better follow them before they get into any trouble.'
'Julian,' Dick called as they approached. 'Hey, Ju, come and look at this.' He pointed to a footprint on the muddy ground. 'This looks familiar!'
From his pocket, Julian produced a piece of string and a fountain pen. He knelt down and stretched the string out alongside the footprint, then marked the position of its heel and toe. Climbing to his feet, he stared at the string and frowned.
'What is it?' George cried.
'I think we’ve seen these feet before,' Julian told her. 'The tramp left a set of muddy footprints in the lane last week. Dick, you're the best one of us at drawing. Can you do a sketch of this footprint?'
'I can use my greaseproof paper.' Dick rummaged through his pockets for his fountain pen. 'You're right, Ju. Look at the pattern on the sole. It looks like hobnailed boots, and some of the nails are missing. I think the tramp we saw had hobnailed boots.'
Anne gave a tiny gasp. 'So it was the tramp that burgled Colonel Fortescue! How awful!'
'If it was, we've got enough evidence to prove it,' George declared. 'If we can find out where he's hidden the loot, think what a feather in our caps it would be!'
'That shouldn't be hard,' Dick remarked. 'Let's follow the footprints!'
Very soon, the four children - not forgetting the dog! - came almost to the edge of the cliffs, where the footprints petered out. George ran forward and peered over the edge.
'It's all right!' she cried. 'There's a little ledge here - I'm going to jump down - oh!'
'What is it, George?' Julian demanded.
'There's a secret passage! I can't see where it leads. This must be the tramp's hiding-place!'
'George, be careful. I don't think you should go off exploring on your own!'
'Don't be silly, Anne. This is just what we need to convince Constable Wetherspoon!' George's voice was getting fainter and fainter.
Julian sighed. 'Come on, then. We'd better go after her before she gets into trouble!'
'What are we going to do about Timmy?' Dick asked. 'He can't get down to the ledge.'
'He'll have to wait here,' Julian decided. Timmy whined, and his tail sank sadly to the ground. He loved adventures almost as much as George!
'I'll go down, first,' Julian continued. 'Then you, Anne, and Dick can bring up the rear.'
--
The cave entrance was narrow, but they managed to squeeze inside. Feeling their way in the darkness, Julian discovered a passage at the back, leading down, and they began to pick their way carefully over the loose rock.
Anne shuddered. 'We'd better make sure we don't get trapped here.'
'Ssssh!' Julian hissed. 'There's a light ahead.'
There was indeed. As they rounded a corner, a shadow detached itself from the rock and touched Julian on the shoulder.
'It's that boy,' George whispered. 'He's in a cage in the cave.'
'Kidnapped!' Julian observed. 'That tramp has some explaining to do! We'd better go and see.'
The fair-haired boy had his back to them. Julian called out a quiet Coo-ee, and the boy jumped and turned round.
'Don't be frightened,' Anne said in a kind voice as they walked across to his cage. 'We're here to rescue you.' What an odd-looking boy, she thought. He had grey eyes and a pointed chin, and was wearing some sort of gown. 'Is that your costume from the magic show?' she asked.
The boy stared at her and didn't answer.
'Are there keys for this cage?' Julian had tried the door without success, and was looking around the cave. 'Maybe behind those barrels over there?'
'No,' the boy answered. 'You cast a spell and the door opens. Stupid Mudbloods.'
'There's no need to be rude,' Anne said.
The boy sneered at her. 'There's no need to be stupid. Though I suppose you can't help it.'
'That's enough!' Julian declared. 'We've come here to rescue you, but I'm jolly tempted to leave you in that cage and let the police sort everything out.'
'Why did they kidnap you?' Anne asked.
The boy shrugged. 'To punish my parents. I was supposed to do something and I failed, so they're going to kill me.'
'Kill you!' Anne gasped in horror.
The boy grinned, showing pointed white teeth. 'I was supposed to kill someone else. Does that bother you, Mudblood?'
'You're a horrid boy,' Anne told him. 'You're perfectly horrid, and I don't believe a single word you've said. Didn't anyone tell you it's not nice to tell lies!'
'Hey, Julian,' George called softly from across the cave. 'Come and look at this.' She had managed to prise a large chest open with her penknife and was peering inside.
'What is it?'
'Silver,' Dick replied. 'Lots and lots of silver. Not just Colonel Fortescue's. All the silver that's gone missing this summer, I should say.'
Julian stared down into the open chest. He whistled. 'This is bigger than we thought. I think it's time we fetched the police.'
'I'm afraid it's too late for that, child,' said a voice behind him. Anne screamed. A man was standing in the centre of the cave, almost as if he had appeared out of thin air. He was enormously tall, with rounded shoulders and long arms that hung by his sides. His hair was matted and his face was filthy with dirt. He smiled a hideous smile, revealing yellowing teeth.
Julian stepped forward, and put an arm around Anne's shoulders. 'You'd better get out,' he said. 'The police will be here very soon.'
The stranger smiled. 'I'm not frightened of your police.'
'How did you get here?' asked Dick. 'You didn't come through the passage and there's no other way in. Is there a secret door?'
The boy in the cage laughed. The stranger rounded on him. 'Quiet!' The boy flinched and turned pale.
'I don't need doors,' the stranger said. 'I go where I please, and no-one keeps me out. You might call it magic.'
George snorted. 'What rot! You're nothing better than a thief and a smuggler.' She pointed to the chest and the barrels. 'That's why your loot is here, isn't it? You're going to smuggle it out of the country.'
The stranger chewed thoughtfully on a long curved fingernail. 'You're quite clever for a Muggle. But not clever enough. Silver is harmful to me. I have… friends… who are going to turn it into something else.'
'More rubbish!' retorted George. 'You can't turn one thing into another! My father says so, and he's a famous scientist, so he should know!'
The stranger smiled again. 'How fascinating,' he said. 'I must pay a visit to your father, once I've finished here. But I am forgetting my manners. Shall we play a game? Children love games.' He bared his teeth at Anne, making her shrink back in fright. 'What about hide and seek?' He turned to the boy in the cage. 'Draco, would you like to join in?'
'No,' said the boy, backing away from the bars. 'No.'
'What a pity. I suppose I'll have to save you for later.' He stepped forwards and looked down at Anne. 'What a pretty girl. Are you frightened of me?'
Anne stared up at him. 'Not at all,' she said in the bravest voice she could manage.
'You will be. Let's play. You can hide around here.' He gestured at the chests and barrels with a long fingernail. 'I'll count to - fifty? A hundred? Twenty.' Anne's eyes darted towards the passage through which they had come and the man smiled. 'By all means, try and escape if you want to. You'll have to get past me first.' He stepped back. 'One… two…'
He reached out a hand and extinguished the flickering torch on the wall.
--
'Nineteen… twenty.'
Anne shoved her hand into her mouth to stop herself sobbing. She was shaking with fright. The stranger took a few steps towards the barrels and then stopped. She heard him sniffing the air. Beside her she could hear someone else's breathing - short, sharp, panicked gasps. Her heart pounded.
The stranger took another step forward. A foul scent washed over Anne, choking her. She pressed herself against the sharp rock of the cave until it cut through her dress, trying to make herself as small and flat as possible, her eyes screwed shut. I'm not here, she thought desperately. This is a rock. You haven't seen me. Go away.
Time seemed to stop. After an eternity, she heard the stranger take a step back. She breathed out, as slowly and quietly as possible. Where was he? She opened her eyes - and screamed as he grabbed her by the collar, dragging her off the ground and over the barrels until she dangled before him, struggling and kicking at the air. He lifted her to face him and stared into her eyes.
'Your eyes glitter in the darkness,' he whispered, running his fingers through her hair. 'No, don't close them now. Let me look at you.'
'Now!' A shape cannoned out of the shadows, knocking her attacker backwards. 'Leave my sister alone, you rotter!' Anne scrambled to her feet and ran towards the passageway as Julian thumped the stranger with a candlestick. 'Silver's harmful to you, is it? Take that and that - and that!' Grunts and thumps told her that Dick and George had entered the fray. Anne patted her hair back into shape with trembling hands and wondered what to do.
'Psst, Mudblood,' a voice hissed. It was the pale boy. 'Get my wand!' Anne gaped. 'Oh, for heaven's sake,' the boy muttered. 'There's a stick hanging on the wall over there. I need it.'
Anne felt her way to the other side of the cage. There was indeed a stick hanging there, just as the boy - Draco - had said. 'Are you going to pick the lock with it?' she asked, as she unhooked it and passed it through the bars.
'Something like that.' Draco pointed the stick at the lock and mumbled something. The cage door flew open. Anne stared.
'Don't worry.' Draco grinned. 'If you survive, they'll Obliviate you.' He turned to run down the passageway. Anne grabbed his arm.
'Wait!' she protested. 'You can't just run away and leave us.'
Draco considered. 'All right,' he acknowledged. 'Fair's fair. Even with Mudbloods, I suppose.' He pointed the stick at the struggling figures on the floor and hissed something that sounded like Stupid Pie. The man went limp, just as George brought a decanter down upon his head.
'That's done it, George. You've knocked him out. Good work.' Julian sat back on his haunches and surveyed the unconscious man. 'I think it's time we got Constable Wetherspoon. That man's a dangerous lunatic. He ought to be locked up.'
'That's all right, young man. We'll take care of it from here.' Anne jumped backwards with a squeak. The tramp was standing in the passageway, one hand clamped firmly on Draco's shoulder. 'And Professor McGonagall will be pleased to see you,' he said to the boy.
'I don't understand,' George said slowly. 'Are you a plain-clothes detective?'
The tramp hesitated, and then nodded. 'Something like that. My name's Mundungus Fletcher. We've been trying to track down a gang of Death Eaters - er, that is, a criminal gang - in the area for a while. When Mr. Malfoy here was kidnapped, we knew we were on the right lines.'
'Criminals will do anything for money,' Julian observed in a lofty tone.
Detective Fletcher nodded. 'Exactly so, sir. I discovered their lair yesterday but was - ah - waiting for the gang to return so we could catch them in the act.'
'So that's why you were taking the fish-knives!' Dick exclaimed. 'You needed them for evidence!'
'Did you indeed, Mundungus?' An old lady in spectacles and a pointed hat pushed her way into the cave. 'How very interesting.' The tramp looked down at the ground, his face red. 'And how pleasant to see you again, Mr. Malfoy. It's time we took you back to Hogwarts and put Mr. Greyback under lock and key.'
'Mr. Greyback?' Julian looked down at the body on the ground. 'Is that his name?'
'It is, and he is indeed a lunatic, as you so astutely observed. But not as dangerous as he likes to think. You were in no real peril.' Behind the old lady, Draco began to say something, but it was quickly muffled by the detective's hand. 'Mr. Greyback likes to frighten children, but he is really very fond of them. The Ministry will be pleased to see him again.'
Anne remembered something. 'Hogwarts?' she asked.
The old lady beamed. 'I am the headmistress of a very old and very exclusive school,' she said. 'Until his disappearance, Draco was a pupil there. His parents will be glad to know that he is safe.' She looked around. 'I know that you will want to tell the police what you have found, but I think Detective Fletcher will ask you to wait for twenty-four hours so that he and his men can round up the rest of Mr. Greyback's gang of silver thieves. I am correct, am I not, Mundungus?
Detective Fletcher smiled weakly. 'Yes, Headmistress. That's exactly what I was going to say.'
--
'More orange squash?' Anne poured herself a glass and looked round the breakfast table.
Julian shook his head. 'Not for me, thanks. I couldn't eat or drink another thing. I say, Anne, that hairclip looks jolly nice, you know.'
Anne beamed. 'It was lovely of Colonel Fortescue to give us a reward. Your watches are nice, too.'
'They're not so dusty,' Julian agreed. 'And whoever thought of getting George a penknife with a dog carved on it is a genius. Though I don't know what Aunt Fanny will say. Girls ought not to have knives.'
There was a thump on the mat and Dick went out, to return a moment later with the paper. 'We're on the front page,' he declared, spreading the paper out for them to see and helping himself to a slice of buttered toast. 'Not a bad photo,' he said, a second later. 'By the way, Anne, you never did tell us how you got that cage door open. Jolly good show, that.'
Anne smiled, and brushed toast crumbs off the table. 'I don't think you'd believe me if I told you,' she said.
--