In Between Two Worlds (HP/PJO Crossover)

Chapter 119: More Bad Dreams.

I was having a strange dream. There was a man. He got up and limped downstairs into the kitchen. He was standing at the sink, filling the kettle, he looked up at a house and I saw lights glimmering in its upper windows. He put down the kettle at once, hurried back upstairs as fast as his bad leg would allow, and was soon back in his kitchen, fully dressed and removing a rusty old key from its hook by the door. He picked up his walking stick, which was propped against the wall, and set off into the night. I followed after him.

The front door of the house bore no sign of being forced, nor did any of the windows. The man limped around to the back of the house until he reached a door almost completely hidden by ivy, took out the old key, put it into the lock, and opened the door noiselessly.

He let himself into the cavernous kitchen. He didn't really let me in but at that point I figured I was being forced to follow whether I liked it or not. We reached the hall, which was a little lighter owing to the large mullioned windows on either side of the front door, and started to climb the stairs.

On the landing, we turned right, and saw at once where the intruders were: At the every end of the passage a door stood ajar, and a flickering light shone through the gap, casting a long sliver of gold across the black floor. The man edged closer and closer, I was able to see a narrow slice of the room beyond.

The fire, I now saw, had been lit in the grate. This seemed to surprise him. Clearly a muggle. Then he stopped moving and listened intently. I followed his lead. A man's voice spoke within the room; it sounded timid and fearful. And I vaguely recognized it.

"There is a little more in the bottle, My Lord, if you are still hungry. "

"Later," said a second voice. This too belonged to a man-but it was strangely high-pitched, and cold as a sudden blast of icy wind. Something about that voice made the sparse hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "Move me closer to the fire, Wormtail. "

Oh gods. This couldn't end well. The man turned his right ear toward the door. There came the clink of a bottle being put down upon some hard surface, and then the dull scraping noise of a heavy chair being dragged across the floor. I caught a glimpse of a small man, his back to the door, pushing the chair into place. He was wearing a long black cloak, and there was a bald patch at the back of his head. Then he went out of sight again. It was defiantly Pettigrew.

"Where is Nagini?" said the cold voice.

"I - I don't know, My Lord," said Wormtail nervously. "She set out to explore the house, I think..."

"You will milk her before we retire, Wormtail," said the second voice. "I will need feeding in the night. The journey has tired me greatly. "

There was a pause, and then Wormtail spoke again.

"My Lord, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?"

"A week," said the cold voice. "Perhaps longer. The place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over. "

The inserted a gnarled finger into his ear and rotated it. He obviously thought that he was just hearing things.

"The-the Quidditch World Cup, My Lord?" said Wormtail. (The man dug his finger still more vigorously into his ear.) "Forgive me, but-I do not understand-why should we wait until the World Cup is over?"

"Because, fool, at this very moment wizards are pouring into the country from all over the world, and every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double-checking identities. They will be obsessed with security, lest the Muggles notice anything. So we wait."