“Are you sure you don’t want to stay the night? Get a fresh start in the morning?” Luna asked as she walked you to the front door.
“Yeah, Mom! Let’s stay!” Kelly ran out from behind you toward the living room. Draco grabbed her and she giggled happily as he threw her over his shoulder.
“Thank you Luna, but we can’t. Lunch was wonderful, though!” You gave Luna an appreciative hug. Draco gave a polite wave, still balancing Kelly on his shoulder. “Tell Neville we say hi.”
As soon as you stepped outside, Draco Apparated the three of you to Liverpool. You stumbled slightly, landing in a dark and deserted alleyway. You pinched your nose immediately as a rancid smell hit your nostrils. You found that it emanated from a dumpster directly behind you.
“Ew.” Kelly said, mimicking you and pinching her little nose.
Light traffic made its way leisurely down the tree lined street as the three of you stepped out into the sunlight. Draco managed to Apparate you within a few blocks of the address Luna gave you. Draco slid his fingers in between yours as you strolled down the street, Kelly leading you as her eyes explored the new surroundings. You smiled, squeezing his hand. This was how you imagined your life would be if you didn’t have to worry about people coming after you. You and Draco taking relaxing morning strolls to the park. Kelly would play on the swings and the two of you would sit and watch her, chatting about anything and everything over coffee. You sighed, inwardly wishing that this life would come soon. You came to a stop, glancing down at the slip of paper Luna gave you. You had reached your destination. Artie Huggins, 48 Kirby Lane, Liverpool, England.
Artie Huggins’ house was the epitome of a failed writer’s domain. To say it was a hole in the wall was an understatement. You had to do a double take when you first walked up, not seeing the house number due to a plant holder hanging up next to the door. The front door’s red paint was chipping and worn off. The house didn’t even look much wider than the doorway itself. It was as if the architect decided to stuff another house between numbers 49 and 47 to make an extra buck. You went to step up the stairs when Draco held out his arm to stop you. You smiled as he moved in front of you to ring the bell. It was cute, him being so protective.
As soon as he hit the buzzer, you heard a ruckus from behind the door. Grumbling, clanking of bottles and loud coughing were only a few of the sounds you managed to make out clearly. Kelly moved back, clutching your right leg and Draco’s left as she shrank in between the two of you. You put a comforting hand on her head, stroking her soft blonde hair. Finally, the door pulled open abruptly and the smell of cigarette smoke wafted out of the tiny flat.
“Oi! Who’re you?” the man asked somewhat rudely. He was bald and unshaven, and he held a beer can in one hand. His plain white T-shirt had an orange stain in the middle, giving off the impression that he dropped some sort of food onto his protruding beer belly. Based on the color, you guessed it was nachos.
“Artie Huggins?” Draco asked uncertainly.
“Who’s askin?”
Draco shot you a weary look, and you couldn’t blame him. At first glance, Artie Huggins didn’t look like he would be much help at all.
“Hello, my name is Kris Rogers.” You stepped forward, holding out a hand. He took it, shaking it roughly. “I came to ask you about a subject you seem very knowledgeable about. Progeniti?”
Artie let out a snort and took a swig out of his beer can. When it was empty he crushed it in his hand and threw it out onto his front yard.
“Haven’t you heard? I’m just an old whack job!” He shot out his hands in an erratic fashion at the words whack job. Kelly yelped in fear and, before you could react, her protective shield engulfed the three of you. Artie’s mouth slackened in amazement.
“Kelly, it’s fine. He won’t hurt us.” Draco said urgently, looking around. Nobody on the street paid any attention to the scene, focusing instead on driving to their next appointment or on controlling their unruly children while out shopping. He squeezed Kelly’s shoulder reassuringly. Although her shield disappeared, she still eyed Artie uneasily.
“Come in.” He said quickly, stepping aside. You entered to find yourself inside a narrow hallway that was mostly bare except for two crooked photos hanging by the door. Artie motioned for the door next to you, which opened into a tiny sitting room. A television sat in the corner tuned to the news, an old brown lounge chair positioned directly in front of it. It seemed like Artie spent quite a bit of time in it, because the cushion sunk down in the middle considerably. An old writing desk and a bookcase were shoved into one corner of the room, and a tiny table with two old wooden chairs were up against the wall. Artie motioned for you to sit, clearing off all of the newspapers that littered the table’s surface. You sat and pulled Kelly up onto your lap. Draco elected to stand.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked eagerly.
“No, thank you. We just really need your help. I’m trying to find out everything I can about Progeniti.”
Artie said nothing for a moment. It felt like he was marveling over you; he knew what you were. And what Kelly was.
“I apologize.” He said, looking away hastily. “I don’t mean to be rude. I just haven’t been in the same room with one before.”
“It’s fine, really.” You said, even though you felt rather self-conscious. Draco didn’t look too happy with him watching you so closely. You knew he had a hand on his wand, ready to whip it out at any moment.
“What can I help you with?”
“Well, there doesn’t seem to be much information about Progeniti. I came across your articles on the subject and was hoping you could tell me more?”
“I see.” Artie said, sitting in his lounge chair and cracking open another beer that was sitting on a TV tray next to it. “Well, it has been a taboo subject, that’s for sure. The Ministry of Magic feels that the public can’t handle the thought of your kind out there. A bunch of potential You Know Who’s walking around? It would paralyze the Wizarding world in fear.”
“Or a bunch of Albus Dumbledores?” You countered.
“The public tend to gravitate toward believing the negative over the positive, unfortunately.” He said bitterly. “Anyway, I became interested in De Vali’s work.”
“But I thought his work all burned in a fire? It was indecipherable.”
“That’s what the public hears. Not what I hear.” He smiled. “He did a lot of research, but the problem he kept coming up against was that he couldn’t gather enough evidence to prove his findings.”
“Why?”
“Well…” he hesitated, seemingly unsure whether he should divulge this information. You gave him a pleading look. He sighed and continued. “His subjects died before the study ran its course.”
The blood instantly drained from your face. His words knocked the wind out of you. Draco sank into the chair next to you, his hand taking yours.
“W-what?”
“Progeniti and their offspring are connected. They feed off of each other. They share power, you could say. When the offspring develops abilities, they pull it from the Progeniti. De Vali discovered early on that if either the Progeniti or the offspring were eliminated, the entirety of the power would rest with the surviving party. De Vali's subjects didn’t run the course of a valid scientific study because no two parties stayed intact long enough. There were many different scenarios. Greed, jealousy, sacrifice. Lives would be given to protect a loved one by those selfless enough to do so, or taken away by the power hungry. But the majority of the time, it’s the offspring that survives.”
You didn’t realize you had stopped breathing. Kelly’s legs swung back and forth, her heels hitting your shins softly as she sat on your lap. You were thankful she was too young to understand the conversation taking place in her presence.
“But it doesn’t necessarily have to happen that way.” Draco said, tightening his grip on your hand even more.
“No. I suppose not. It’s all on a case by case basis. That is just the trend.” This didn’t make you feel any better.
“Mr. Huggins, if you don’t mind me asking, what was your last article about? The one that even the Quibbler couldn’t publish?” you found yourself asking. He looked surprised that you knew anything about that.
“Friends of Luna, then?” he asked. When you nodded, he chuckled. “Well, Xenophilius was a good friend of mine but even he had his limits. The Daily Prophet sacked me. I spent quite a bit of time putting together evidence against the Ministry. It’s all well backed up, I have a lot of powerful sources. I accused the Ministry of not only keeping the public ignorant of the Progeniti, but also of using De Vali’s research to find living Progeniti and hold them hostage. I believe they want to use it to their advantage by breeding a superior wizard to use as their secret weapon. But of course it was chalked up to conspiracy theory and thrown out.”
“You really know that? For a fact?” Draco asked skeptically.
“Oh yes, I think I do. How you managed to slip through the cracks, Ms. Rogers, is beyond me.”
Your mind was reeling as you thanked Artie Huggins for his help and Draco led you out into the night. Could it be that you were the only free Progeniti? Why? It didn’t make sense.
“He does sound like a whack job.” Draco whispered.
“I don’t know. I think… I think I believe him.” Draco looked at you like you just grew a second head.
“Breeding from Progeniti? You really think the Ministry would do that?”
“I don’t know what I think right now. Can we please just find somewhere to rest? I’m tired.” You pleaded. Draco nodded, looking down the street. You scooped Kelly up in your arms. Her head drooped onto your shoulder.
“Mum, that man smelled funny.”
“I know he did. But don’t say that honey, it’s not nice.”
“Oh. Okay. I’m hungry.” She stated. Draco hailed a cab, requesting the driver take you to the nearest hotel that was of decent hygienic and customer service standards. Minutes later you were walking across the lobby of a very expensive looking hotel. The Chaumont. Its design was inspired by the castle in France.
“This looks expensive. We can go somewhere else.” You whispered. Draco promptly ignored you.
“Welcome to The Chaumont. How may I help you?”
“I need a room for the night. 2 beds. Non-smoking.”
Draco pulled out a wallet with a wad of cash. You gave him a questioning look but let him finish the transaction. He requested three cheeseburgers from Room Service to be brought up to the room as soon as possible and then you stepped into the shiny mirrored elevator.
“Where did you get all that money?” you questioned him as soon as the doors shut.
“I’ve always had money, Kris.”
“But I thought—“
“My mother died and left me everything. I’ve got more than enough to last us for a very long time.”
“You never told me she died…” You took his hand but he kept looking straight, not making eye contact with you.
“I don’t like to talk about it.” He said shortly. A bell sounded and the elevator doors slid open to reveal your floor. Seeing that this was a sensitive subject for him, you dropped it for now. There has already been enough new information to deal with for one day. You followed him silently down the empty corridor to your room, praying that you would be able to get at least some sleep that night.