Growing up Pureblooded

Little Hangleton

Remus Lupin walked through the squeaky door into the dingy pub and sat down at the bar. The pub was nearly full, despite the early hour, and every eye turned to look at him when he walked in. A half-blood, Remus had always moved with ease in the Muggle world, and was unaccustomed to such a reaction. On the other hand, he supposed, Little Hangleton was a very insular community. "I'd like a pint, please," Remus said courteously, and the barman handed over the ale. The stares continued. Remus wasn't sure how he would learn anything if the villagers were so suspicious of strangers.

Ultimately, the werewolf had come to this secluded valley because of Dora Tonks's report the night before. It turned out that Lucius had followed a very convoluted set of Floo jumps after leaving Malfoy Manor, but the trail ended in the home of an elderly witch who lived in the nearby town of Great Hangleton. Sirius and Remus had promptly gone to investigate, only to find the old woman dead, and no sign of Lucius, Narcissa or Voldemort. Upon their return to Malfoy Manor, Cassiopeia had pointed out that Lucius's destination was nonetheless most likely somewhere in the general vicinity, and Sirius had launched a massive search. He and Abraxas were combing through Great Hangleton, whilst Cassiopeia was scouring the neighboring hamlet of Bracksmeade. Remus had been asked to investigate Little Hangleton, though no one thought it likely that Voldemort had chosen this remote, thoroughly Muggle location for his hideout.

"I haven't seen you round these parts before," observed an elderly man in old working clothes who sat to Remus's right. "It's my first time here," Remus explained. "I was on my way through and I thought I'd stop in for a pint." The old man nodded. "You'll have to forgive that lot for staring at you," he said, gesturing at the gawkers. "We've been a bit suspicious of outsiders ever since that funny business up at Riddle House."

Remus could barely suppress the smile that threatened to spread across his face. "Riddle House?" he repeated. "It's the big manor up on the hill," the man explained. "Used to belong to the Riddle family. Stuck-up toffs they were, thought they were better than the rest of us. They used to own over half the village." "What happened to them?" Remus asked. "Lots of strange things," the man replied. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you. None of these blokes do." Remus smiled at the stranger. "Try me." "Well, their problems started with this huge scandal some seventy years back," the old Muggle began, "when I was just a lad myself. You see, young Tom Riddle, the heir of the family, and quite a good-looking bloke, ran off with this queer girl. Gaunt, I believe her name was..."

As Remus heard the man's tale, he realized beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt that he had come to the right place. He listened politely and bought the man another pint when he'd drained his first. "And those murders were fifty years ago," the old Muggle went on. "We'd thought it was over and done with. But then, just a few weeks ago, old Frank Bryce went missing. He's the caretaker up at Riddle House. He just vanished one day, and no one's heard or seen anything from him." He leaned closer to Remus and began whispering conspiratorially. "But there have been strange happenings up at that house ever since then," he said. "Odd lights flashing in the windows, even though no one's lived there for years." He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. "And the other night," he continued in a voice so low that Remus could hardly make him out, "my Jack was up round there with some mates of his, and he told me he saw several strange men coming in and out. They were dressed funny, he says. Wearing cloaks and masks and whatnot."

Remus froze. How many Death Eaters could they be facing? Several months had passed between Lucius's exile and Narcissa's abduction. It was foolish to think that Voldemort had not been using that time to his full advantage. Rescuing Narcissa might prove more difficult than they had hoped. He needed to tell Sirius right away. He thanked the Muggle and quickly paid his bill before all but running out the door of the pub. He turned down an alley and pulled out a small handheld mirror. "Sirius Black," he hissed, and the mirror shimmered for a minute before his friend's face appeared in the glass. "Hey there, Moony," Sirius said. "Any luck?" "He's here, Padfoot," Remus whispered. "Riddle's holed up here in Little Hangleton."

Sirius's grey eyes went wide. "Are you sure?" "Absolutely," Remus replied. "I've rather a lot to tell you, and I'd like to do it face-to-face." "Understood," Sirius said. "I'll gather up Abraxas and Aunt Cassie and we'll meet you back at Grimmauld Place in ten minutes." Remus nodded. "See you there." The mirror went blank, and Remus slipped it back into his pocket before turning on his heel and Disapparating.