In The Heat Of The Night

Hopeless time to roam,

the distance to your home

Fades away to nowhere

unstoppable

'cause you've seen, seen

too much

too young

Newborn by Muse

The rapidly spreading stream of destruction, which had pounced on wizarding Britain, had slowed to barely a trickle. Within the space of those few meagre weeks, the Ministry had lost so many good fighters that the hope of actually winning this time seemed to be further beyond reach every time you opened the Daily Prophet. After all, Harry Potter wasn't a baby anymore. He had not only bought himself sixteen years of borrowed time, but the entire wizarding community. Many witches had taken to walking around in gangs of three or more, lest some Death Eater should grab one of them and pull them into a deep, dark, damp alley. Catherine's eyes had filled with tears when she had read that and she'd laughed at the idiocy of these women. In theory it looked like a good idea but in practice did they really think that a small group of women was enough to take on a Death Eater? Or maybe that was the stance of a woman who was afforded a bit of protection when it came to Walden Macnair? Well she hoped. Catherine knew that Walden would have to have gone mad to take on Celeste. Her best friend was quick with curses and wand work, plus she had been known to reduce him to nervous wreck with sharp words. Despite all this, would Walden be as lenient on Catherine herself? It was not as of she herself was in line to become his wife so why should he care? However, the Death Eaters had suffered losses too and most of them would be lying injured in their large, expensive beds and so Fudge, in a rare moment of competency, decided it was the best time to offer their gifts to the Harlenians. Catherine herself was relying on her inquiries about Walden's health, pinning her hopes on Celeste's affectionate replies of "Still in bed, lying there like a dying swan."

Carefully arranging the letters to her family, Celeste, her Division and Fudge, in case the Harlenians- or Walden as the case may be- ripped her apart, she laid them out in many different arrangements, in a pile, in a fan, next to each other. She decided finally to place them in a pile on the desk and Apparated to Alamus' office, which was not the tasteless, overpriced gay-bar that was Fudge's office. The walnut panelling and the ill-advised green rug had caused Catherine to almost choke with giggles when she had first entered the room. However Alamus, who's past rants about being on time and punctuality had become the stuff of legend, was half an hour late. Walking around the pale blue office had a strangely relaxing effect on Catherine and as she sat in one of the squashy chairs she felt her eyes began to close and allowed the comfortable darkness to smother her. Just as the little worms of yellow light were fading from the black insides of her eyelids, a gentle tap to the head awaked her.

"Didn't get much sleep last night did we? I won't ask why not." Alamus' voice drifted over from other side of his desk. "I can guess why." She looked at him through her bleary eyes and saw that there were black rings circling his bloodshot eyes too. "Henrietta was in one her fits yesterday. Seems to think that I'm going to leave her for someone younger." He smiled weakly at her.

"Really, Alamus, you flatter me." Catherine said with slight affection. Unlike Celeste, she didn't have any reason to dislike Alamus However she and Celeste were united in the Anti-Fudge campaign; Catherine's loathing of Fudge knew no bounds ever since he made a lewd remark about her backside. Alamus smiled weakly as he pushed forward two objects. One was an ornate golden casket filled with a fine, deep blue powder and the other was a slim, silver dagger with a carved handle. Catherine looked uncertainly at Alamus, who nodded at the items. She picked up the casket first.

"They don't show you this anymore in your training, Cathy. It's Blistering Powder. Deemed as a useless item now, no longer worthy of teaching. However, if you're going in to face Harlenians then you'll need it. It's harmless to you so don't worry. On them, however, it makes the skin peel off and it can kill them if it lands in their eyes. They start to water and then quite quickly, they start to fall apart and....." He stopped after looking at Catherine's slightly sickened face. "It's you that's facing them. Now this, I think you'll like this."

He pushed the dagger towards Catherine. The dangerously sharp edge caught the light and gleamed manically. There was something incredibly familiar about the dagger; it's ornate carving of eagles and their sapphires eyes. For some reason the dagger brought back a flood of childhood memories to her. Memories of herself age five, sitting with her brother and trying to catch fish in the murky pond near their house with their grandmother's old stockings. Of her aged nine, fighting with a small Muggle boy over a swing in the park and eventually being pushed to the ground. At six, looking at dangerous weapons encased in glass inside a dark corridor of Earnshaw Hall. As she struggled to get the cogs within her brain to work Alamus answered for her.

"Celeste gave me this. Apparently you loved to look at her family's weapons when you were a little girl. This was her grandfather's dagger and she said that as you were the 'lucky cow' who gets to risk your life while she's stuck with all the boring stuff like vampires you might as well have it. There is logic to that girl's brain, and one day I will understand her."

Catherine smiled gently as she thought of her best friend's frustrated expression when she was told this. She saw the whole scene in her mind, Celeste rolling her eyes with mock tearful words and pretending to fling something old and valuable to the floor. Pushing back her chair to place the weapons in her black bag and wincing as she heard the wooden legs scrape across the shining, delicate wooden floor, Catherine kept her head down so that she wouldn't betray the fear that was slowly creeping over her and searched through her bag to bring out the 'gifts'. Opening the three silver boxes, she pushed them towards Alamus.

"The first box contains a dragon's heart. As you know Harlenians eat the organs of any living being and they have a special preference for blood richer organs, which dragon's hearts apparently are. The other is a Hippogriff's kidney." She watched as Alamus pulled out the final gift, a delicate wooden bowl with ancient runes and symbols carved around the side. The intricate detailing of the dark symbols was particularly breathtaking against the pale oak of the wood. Alamus picked it up and looked at it carefully, his eyes narrowing.

"Is this a Pensieve?" he asked. Catherine stared at him and tried to shake the look of disbelief off her face.

"No. It's an incantation bowl. The symbols and runes are carved on the side are supposed to call and raise the spirits of the Ancestors and the Harlenian gods to ask for guidance in times of trouble. They make some form of mixture; if you add powder the spirits are supposed to rise from that, supposedly. They're my gifts. Should be enough."

"Yes, yes," Alamus sighed, putting the bowl away. "Cathy. Just, just be careful. Not only are you a fine young woman but I don't think I could cope with the rest of the lunatics without you." With that he drew her into a hug, the faint scent of whisky filled her and she drew back, trying not to cough. Her stifling efforts unfortunately came out sonding like a sob. She looked up into his eyes and smiled. The last thing she saw before Disapparating was Alamus staring deeply into his empty, blackened fireplace.

A second later, Catherine looked around and felt the waist-high grass tickle her arms. An overwhelming smell of lavender filled her nostrils and she began to wade through the heavy grass, heading towards a large, grey mound rising a metre or so from the ground. As she dragged her feet through the knotted, unkempt wilderness, she grimly thought that running, should she need to, was going to be difficult in this grass. After what seemed like an hour but could have only been around two minutes, she reached the crater and stared into the dark abyss it encircled.

"Lumos." Her whisper echoed and from the light in her wand she saw that about seven feet below was what appeared to be a passageway, which led off to another cave. She tapped her wand and a thick rope appeared next to her feet, which she tied to the nearest tree root that looked as if it would hold. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she gripped the rope, climbed over the side and carefully clambered down while holding her wand aloft. As she passed down the first three feet she felt fine, but around the fourth foot the rope began to loosen and she speeded up her attempts to get down. Each time she put weight on her rope it began to groan and the sound bounced off the walls, which she knew could travel to the Harlenians' in their dwellings. Finally, she made it down and her stomach gave a grateful lurch as her feet hit the floor. Holding up her wand so that it illuminated the surrounding area she saw that the only way left was down a dark tunnel. She began to walk slowly down, before she stifled a squeal when a bare part of her arm touched a damp piece of wall, the mildew rubbing against her flesh. Rubbing it, sadly to no avail, she reached a fork, where the tunnel spilt into two.

"Point me." The wand in her hand whizzed around and settled for the right- hand tunnel. She prayed that her wand was right and ran along, feeling her feet slip on the wet, slick ground. The tunnel seemed to last forever and her wand would occasionally lit up primitive sketches on the wall of Harlenians massacring humans. Soon, her legs began to burn and she slowed her pace to a fast walk, her breathing heavy and her heart beating painfully against her chest. The drawings on the wall became more and more gruesome, eventually depicting some person having their throat slit and the blood anointing a Harlenian child. Gulping, Catherine stumbled and slipped on an extremely wet patch of the cave and fell to the floor. She cried out in pain as her hip fell against the wall and a white-hot pain scraped her arm, as if something had grazed it. After rubbing furiously to take away the pain, she heard a grunt echo through the cave. Standing up quickly and feeling the pain once again shoot through her, she turned around and waited for whatever it was to find her. She reached into her bag and pulled out one of the silver boxes and held it in one hand as her wand hand began to shake. She had glanced down only a second to check her arm when she noticed something standing barely a foot away from her.

The only word for this Harlenian was disgusting. Its skin was a leathery green colour with blue markings covering the breadth of its body. At least eight feet tall it towered above her and she saw that the talons on its feet were small but sharp. Its yellow eyes stared at her and its huge arms were covered in sharp, stone like scales. What struck her as most worrisome, were the thinner arms extending from its sides, the sharp tips that could kill you faster than any of its talons and slates. Remembering quickly that these were the males and according to their textbook in Operative training, 'the males of the species trusts human females more, as they see them less as a threat to their territory.' As it lumbered towards her, she held out the silver box containing the hippogriff's kidney and tried not to jump back as one huge arm grabbed it from her. Its surprisingly tiny mouth opened as it sniffed at the kidney and a sickening stench filled the air. Holding back the urge to vomit, Catherine stood stock-still, her eyes never leaving the Harlenian as it contemplated the gift. Letting out a deep, agonised groan, the Harlenian pointed towards the tunnel and she walked down it, her hand tightly gripping her wand, the grunting Harlenian behind her.

They quickly reached a heavy boulder. The Harlenian pushed past her and effortlessly rolled it away. The creature started pointing at the cave and gesturing wildly; Catherine guessed that he wanted her to enter. She stepped into a large cave, lit by a single fire in the centre with both male and female Harlenians gathering around. A heavy musty smell mixed with the strong odour of rotting flesh and she could make out heavy shapes in the dark corners of the cave. As the Harlenian behind her started to growl, they looked up and immediately a yellow-skinned one with deep red markings rushed at her. Once again the training textbook came back to her, 'the females are more at ease with male humans, whom they see them as less of a threat to their young.' Catherine closed her eyes and felt the air whoosh past her ears as the female flung her into one of the cave walls, bile rising in her throat and goosebumps rising on her skin. Gritting her teeth in pain as she hit the cold stonewall, she slumped down the wall and felt two sharp points running up to her ribcage, ready to pierce. Reaching uselessly for the dagger, which had fallen to the floor when she had been thrown, Catherine pulled at the points, to no avail. She felt her grip become loose as her head began to lighten and her surroundings became a fuzzy, like a badly tuned television. Hoping that her mind would become blank, Catherine waited for the moment in which her organs would be sucked through her ribcage and her last thought was that she was so glad she'd left the house tidy this morning and would not die "That scruffy cow who had her organs sucked out."

Or it would have been if she hadn't been hauled up at that moment. Opening her eyes she saw two males gesturing at a rock and grunting madly, while the female was staring at her with what could only be described as a mild hatred. Tentatively, Catherine walked towards the rock and slowly sat down whilst looking at the Harlenians. Inclining her head at what she guessed was the elder, judging by the amount of bones hung around his neck, she pulled the two remaining boxes from her bag and offered them slowly, her hands remarkably steady. The wrinkled elder opened them and his eyes flickered over the contents. Signalling to a female, he began to give a loud series of growls. The first male she had met walked forwards and gave the third gift to the elder who growled further at this. The female looked at Catherine and inclined her head.

"My name is Ginvela, the High Priestess. Kartinan accepts your gifts. He in return wants to know your name and what is your purpose is here."

"My name is Catherine Pierpoint and I am an Operative from the Ministry of Magic." As Ginelva grunted this, Kartinan's head rose quickly and many of the others began to grunt as well. Catherine felt herself shiver as the first female stalked towards her and raised a sharp arm before a male pushed her back. Kartinan held his arm up for silence and an unsettling quiet descended on the cave. The female stared at Catherine again.

"We have had dealings with this Ministry. Years ago their fighters killed some of our innocent kind for being carnivores. They did not accept that we rarely eat humans and that we prefer smaller animals such as dogs, or richer creatures, such as dragons, if we can get them. They did not kill just fully growns," she pointed at a small, white, rather feeble- looking creature. "They killed our young too."

"There has been a new Minister since then. His name is Cornelius Fudge and he is very keen to preserve Harlenian rights and ensure that the killings of your kind made back then are never repeated again. This Ministry is dedicated to preserving the rights of all," she gulped at the enormity of the lies spewing from her mouth but swallowed her disgust and carried on. "I am his representative here and my purpose here is to see if we can reach some agreement. "

Ginelva repeated this to Kartinan, who picked up the bowl and surveyed it with interest. He grunted for a while and then allowed the room to drop once again into silence. This was rather disturbing to Catherine and she turned to see that the first female, was once again eyeing her malevolently. She turned away and looked back at the waiting Ginelva.

"Kartinan is pleased with the wooden gift. He says it will come in useful when we call on the Ancestors for their guidance," The female looked at Catherine's expectant face. "You shall not partake in this. This is for a matter of our kind. I have a question for you in return about the many rumours that we have been hearing amongst the whisperings of the night. Is it true that the Dark Lord has returned?" Catherine nodded and her heart began to beat faster as tiny sweat droplets began to form on her forehead. Looking apprehensively at Ginelva she watched in relief as the Priestess spat a large purple glob of spit onto the dusty cave floor.

"He and his wizards are worse than your Ministry. After he fell, not one honoured their promises to us, therefore we trust them as little as we trust you." The surrounding Harlenians began to bang their feet against the wall and they all began to wail; the noise was so high pitched it hurt Catherine's ears, fit to burst. Again, Kartinan held up his arm and the cave fell silent. The female let out one final wail and returned her unceasing gaze to Catherine, who spoke out quickly.

"I can assure you that the Minister does not wish to see any bloodshed committed against your kind. He only wishes for a greater tolerance towards you and eventually hopes that you will be able to lead peaceful lives, away from the harassment of wizards."

"We have not much time to discuss these matters," the Ginelva snapped quickly. "The Ancestors need to be consulted at once before any long-standing decision is made and any truce with you is passed. If you can swear that your Ministry will hold off any action against our kind until the Ancestors have passed their judgement then we are prepared to consider what your Ministry is offering. Is this suitable, or are we to be betrayed again?"

"You have my word." As Kartinan began to grunt Catherine held her breath in hope and felt her cheeks beginning to burn. The female spoke out.

"Then we accept." Kartinan stood up and grasped Catherine's hand and began to shake. He stepped back and squeezed a small amount of blood from the dragon's heart onto his stumpy fingers. The female nodded. "You must honour the terms our way, as we have honoured it your way." Catherine stepped forward and stood still as the blood was smeared onto her forehead. Kartinan bowed and Catherine quickly followed suit. He pointed at the back of the cave where, within the darkness, a small ladder could be seen leading upwards. Something that looked like sunlight filtered through gently. Ginelva pushed her along to underneath the hole. The sunlight made Catherine squint and she shielded her eyes to protect them. She nodded at the others and quickly climbed the ladder, feeling it shake as the vindictive female wailed and tried to shake her off. Stumbling to reach the top of the ladder and clinging on for dear life, Catherine scrambled into the sunlight and breathed in a deep lungful of air, gasped, falling on the grass before she crawled a yard or so. On feeling the immense relief of the fresh, clean air, Catherine began to vomit.