Aurora And The Book Of Corvus

The House Of Niap

The stench of rotten bodies and spilt blood still lingered in the air, making it tight and hard to breathe. At that, the couple, holding their little two year old boy in their arms, still put their white satin scarves over their nose to dull out the smell. Yet still, no matter how thick their scarves were, there was no escaping the putrid smell, of the bodies.

"Where's the girl?" the man asked, his voice muffled as he spoke through the scarf. He had a tall build, with muscular arms, and blonde tousled hair, which seemed to contrast perfectly with his near black brown eyes. But no matter how greatly proportioned he was, it was nowhere close to how stunning his wife looked, which explained why he put his arm around her so protectively.

"You want adopt, what about little boy in your arms eh? He not good enough eh?" the woman who had been sitting idly behind the big wooden table said with a pout. She had a hood covering more than half of her face, but her pout was visible enough behind her pathetic mask.

"Who's asking eh?" the woman said mimicking the covered woman's childish accent. To good effect, because the woman's smug pout disappeared as soon as it came. "We just want the girl, and we'll be well on our way."

After an elongated silence, the woman rose from her seat and walked all the way to the door, not checking to see if the couple was following. When she reached the door, she turned and saw that the couple, to her relief was following her.

"We go without the child," she said blandly, facing the door all most immediately. The mother made a protesting groan, but was dulled by the father's voice.

"We can't, you know we can't," was all he said.

"Where we go, the things we see, he cannot be unseen by a child, he's safer here," she spoke from experience, having been cursed to do this job, since she was 8.

"'Ere's not much safe, iz it?" the mother said her posh French accent, was lined with stubbornness, not ready to lose the battle of the custody of her child.

"You're perfectly free to send him home, with one of those your – er, what's it called – runes," sarcasm laced her voice.

The mother again opened her mouth to respond but thought it unwise. The father, on the other hand, had already gone to the wall surrounding the door, brought out his Marker, and traced the rune which he used to get here. , adorned the wall, after a few seconds, the blue mark shone red, with the bare wall in between the ink shining a light neon blue. The neon light extended from the drawing, it rose to the length of about 3 meters above the sign, and expanding about 1.5 meters to the left, before going all the way down to the floor, only to go back to where the line had started. It shone for about 10 seconds before revealing a door-like portal. The father took the child and said something in Belgium that neither women understood. The boy replied with a nod, and the father carried the boy into the portal, and came back the next minute and closed the door, which made the portal disappear along with the rune. The mother looked expectantly at her husband, who had joined her, as if nothing had happened at all.

"The Delacours," he said as if it answered all her questions, and it appeared that it had, as she let out a breath the hooded woman had not notice she held. Lending out her hand, the couple and she apparated out of the ruined building, which was famously called Niap.

The trio had appeared at the Ministry in Britain, which was more than 20,000 miles from where the couple had been asked to come. Frustration filled the woman, as she stared at the woman who had asked them to meet her in Scotland. She was about to tell her off, but was disrupted from saying anything, by a voice she knew all too well.

"Céline!" a man called, breaking the woman's glare.

Tugging her husband's black leather jacket, urging him to follow her as she ran towards the old man who had his arm outstretched to welcome them. "Dumbledore!" she said hugging the man, with a wide grin.