Yeah, we tried the Floo but it spat us both back on the hearth at Laszlo's. Then I tried the Floo myself but that didn't work, either. We took ourselves over there and cased it carefully. No one was watching the place. I don't have a key anymore - I mean to say, I didn't have, before last night - and Dora couldn't even turn the knob on the door. We gave up.
But I got to thinking. The London Tree-lighting thingy was last night, so everyone's attention was focused there. I figured there wouldn't be any better time to sneak in, if I could, and get a few rudimentary wards up to keep them out, even if they've got something set to tell them the house has been breached.
You remember the last time I went by there to have a look, I felt pulled toward the door. It was the same this time. I just touched the lock on the door and I felt ... sort of a jolt of electricity. A shock, I mean to say. And then the knob opened smooth as silk.
I was there all night last night, finding out what Kreacher had to say and making sure he couldn't cause us any trouble. I set wards straightaway after that and spent the rest of the night looking through my father's office for any notes he might have left about what protections he had put on before his death.
I reckon the Floo Board will take forever to report any change; they can't monitor every opening and closure. And I haven't gone through; I took Moony's advice and Apparated back from the next-door garden. (Spent most of the afternoon recovering - hence the maths.)
There's another factor. My mother's elf. Circe. MY elf. Was still taking care of the place. I've sworn him to secrecy but the sooner we can put it under our Fidelius the better. And then we can use the Floo to come and go.
I hadn't figured on the state of the house. Mother was a virtual shut-in for years, I'd heard that. But she at least used to insist on cleanliness. Dust, debris - I was attacked by doxies when I opened a cupboard. I was half-expecting my old schoolroom to have been transformed into the wedding feast table in Mrs Haversham's house, or summat.
And she's left a portrait in the entrance hall. Allie, it's ... indescribable. The moment I walked by she started screaming at me. And it's got a permanent sticking charm on it. I found that out when I told Kreacher to take the bloody thing down. I've covered it for the moment but ... I dunno. I'm a bit worried that Dora will decide there's no way we're raising Bea in such a house. I couldn't blame her if she did do. But I don't know what alternatives we have, at this point. The business can't afford a larger premises and they can't very well apply for licences to expand the current flat without having to answer a lot of prying questions. 'My husband's left me for our dog and we need another bedroom' is hardly a good reason in the Ministry's eyes, is it?
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branchandroot
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Date: 2011-12-05 03:50 am (UTC)But I got to thinking. The London Tree-lighting thingy was last night, so everyone's attention was focused there. I figured there wouldn't be any better time to sneak in, if I could, and get a few rudimentary wards up to keep them out, even if they've got something set to tell them the house has been breached.
You remember the last time I went by there to have a look, I felt pulled toward the door. It was the same this time. I just touched the lock on the door and I felt ... sort of a jolt of electricity. A shock, I mean to say. And then the knob opened smooth as silk.
I was there all night last night, finding out what Kreacher had to say and making sure he couldn't cause us any trouble. I set wards straightaway after that and spent the rest of the night looking through my father's office for any notes he might have left about what protections he had put on before his death.
I reckon the Floo Board will take forever to report any change; they can't monitor every opening and closure. And I haven't gone through; I took Moony's advice and Apparated back from the next-door garden. (Spent most of the afternoon recovering - hence the maths.)
There's another factor. My mother's elf. Circe. MY elf. Was still taking care of the place. I've sworn him to secrecy but the sooner we can put it under our Fidelius the better. And then we can use the Floo to come and go.
I hadn't figured on the state of the house. Mother was a virtual shut-in for years, I'd heard that. But she at least used to insist on cleanliness. Dust, debris - I was attacked by doxies when I opened a cupboard. I was half-expecting my old schoolroom to have been transformed into the wedding feast table in Mrs Haversham's house, or summat.
And she's left a portrait in the entrance hall. Allie, it's ... indescribable. The moment I walked by she started screaming at me. And it's got a permanent sticking charm on it. I found that out when I told Kreacher to take the bloody thing down. I've covered it for the moment but ... I dunno. I'm a bit worried that Dora will decide there's no way we're raising Bea in such a house. I couldn't blame her if she did do. But I don't know what alternatives we have, at this point. The business can't afford a larger premises and they can't very well apply for licences to expand the current flat without having to answer a lot of prying questions. 'My husband's left me for our dog and we need another bedroom' is hardly a good reason in the Ministry's eyes, is it?