Arundel Granville and the Cursed Crown

2 Thea Gaunt and the Inner Workings of the Blood.

Built by Daisy Dodderidge in the 1500's the Leaky Caldron had not been redecorated since, Arun was sure. Though the matrices may have been replaced on the four-poster beds, and the furniture switched when broken, it was still positively Tudor. When the Northern line passed underground the floor shook and she could hear the pedestrians and the busses on the Charing Cross side of the pub. Her window was shuttered, and the glass was warped and coated in soot, but she could just about make out the Muggles passing with their shopping bags.

Watching them brought a kind of comfort, they were so busy, blissfully unaware that two years ago a war had raged in the wizarding world that could have seen them enslaved. Arun wasn't sure that war was over; Wizards had long memories and nobody really knew what side people were on, even the Death Eaters didn't really know who still remained loyal.

People acted like the fact that Voldemort had fallen meant the war was over, but the war was in people's hearts and minds.

The most vocal now lived in fear of being exposed, but the ordinary witch and wizard, who sat quietly and kept their opinions to themselves still held on to their opinions and the trade in blood magic and dark artefacts just proved how many there were who thought pureblood held some kind of status. Just a quick study of the people in power in the ministry blurred the lines. Cornelius Fudge put great stock in blood purity, hated anything that was a part monster or part muggle, whilst Voldemort himself was a mudblood who looked to those crossbreeds as his allies, and yet his followers were some of the most bigoted idealists she had ever met. As far as she was concerned, there was power and there was hypocrisy on both sides and so she didn't care at all which side she worked for as long as they didn't get in her way.

The blood supremacists hated the Leaky Cauldron, which served as a portal between the muggle world and the magical, but Arundel liked it. She enjoyed hiding amongst the muggles, picking up their customs, their coinage and their gossip. Their clothes were more comfortable, their music more palatable and flicking on an electric light switch was easier than magic. She thought she must have been one of the few people who understood why Arthur Weasley had such an affinity for them.

Not that she would ever admit it to her friends, if they thought for a second she enjoyed having to be able to pass as one of them they would be most displeased. The last time she visited Narcissa Malfoy her best friend had lamented that she was dressed in a muggle jumper and leggings. Today these were her choice of clothes, with thick leg warmers and fingerless black gloves. The morning air was cutting and her fire had not yet warmed the room, all she wanted was to be comfortable.

Something banged on the door, Arun pulled it open and an enchanted broom whizzed in to sweep, followed by yet another owl. A copy of the letter from Dumbledore landed at her feet, and the fact the owl knew where to find her told her that somebody had been keeping him updated. Against her better judgement, she turned the parchment over and wrote, "I await you at your convenience, then," and sent the owl away half expecting the fire to blaze green and the Headmaster of Hogwarts to step through the flames and annoy her with half baked riddles and threats concealed with pleasantries. When the fire stayed lit and did nothing impressive, she tidied her hair in the mirror, which informed her, "You'd do better with a bit of lipstick love-" and went down to the bar. A copy of the Daily Prophet left out on the bar showed the Albanian Minister of Magic scratching his head next to a huge hole in the wall of a high-security prison, "'I guess the walls were weak, this prison is old and it's not like we are made of the money to pay for the expertise keep the enchantments updated. These things are complicated.' The Albanian Minister was reported to have said. "Not everybody has the luxury of Azkaban's security you know. Rest assured we are tracking down those who escaped, but the forest will kill them before they reach civilisation. This forest is vast and full of dangerous magical creatures.' the Minister of Magic went on to remind the Prophet's reporter that the prisoners don't have their wands and as such are practically helpless amongst the trees."