Chapter 2 - Through Sojourn & Colks

[DarkChild]

*Chapter Two*

Through Sojourn & Colks

The bitter cold made Will wish he had thought to bring his cloak before he ran away. The unforgiving wind made his eyes water as it whipped at his face. He blew on his free hand for warmth as the other hand was grasping the anonymous note in his jeans pocket. He limped soundly through Salazar’s Hollow, grateful that the drunks of the twilight were now dozing into hangovers, and the sick laughter had abated the streets. Some of his wounds still stung, and blossomed blood onto his jeans. Will was as determined as ever not to go back from the Hell he had just leapt from. He knew from eavesdropping on the stair landing when his father held meetings that, London was a good all-night walk and Underground ride from where he now stood on the barren streets, but he didn’t care.

Somewhere, somehow, someone knew he was being treated like a prisoner and wanted to help him. He continued to walk until he came upon an ignored, deserted play-park with a rusty, formidable iron fence that made Will think about falling over his bed-frame and scraping up his legs. The unkempt, ignored grass was starved yellow and brown with age, and it curled forcefully against the gate as if it had jaws. A rusted, broken jungle-gym was far back, against the thick vines that had ensnared themselves around the fence. An equally rusted and poorly repaired slide loomed in front of a bench with chipping sea-green paint. Dead flowers spilled over the flowerbeds that dotted the park. A seesaw with no paint and several noticeable bent and loose nails due to poor repair jobs remained motionless next to a colorless, lopsided merry-go-round. Will limped easily through the gates (their doors hanging off rusted hinges) and settled underneath the slide in the dead grass, curled up for warmth, and let sleep slowly overtake him.


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He was standing the darkness alone. Cold, cruel laughter ripped through his ears, then a giant, misty form of his father appeared, towering in the shadows. He brought his giant hand down with a sharp intake of breath Will found himself bleeding from his forehead. The cold, cruel laughter still rang in his ears.


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‘’What are you doing down there, little boy?’‘ asked a voice. Will’s eyes opened and he stared around blearily. He felt blood running down the side of his face and a pounding pain in his temple. He had a sharp intake of breath when he set his soulless eyes upon a man that had spoken to him.

‘’It’s alright.’‘ said the man kindly. ‘’I’m not going to hurt you.’‘ the man had vivid red hair and freckles. He had large brown eyes, a long nose, and big hands and feet. His face wore a kind smile.

‘’Who are you?’‘ Will asked shakily, struggling to prop himself up on his injured elbow.

‘’My name is Ron Weasley.’‘ the man said. ‘’I was the one who sent you that note. What happened? You should be at Sojourn and Colks. It’s much safer than this play-park.’‘

’‘I-I was tired sir.’‘ said Will, still frightened. ‘’I’m sorry.’‘ he then froze his body, an expression of pain on his face.

‘’What are you doing?’‘ Ron asked, a friendly chuckle in his voice.

‘’Aren’t you going to hit me now?’‘ Will asked. ‘’It’s what my father did.’‘

’‘Hit you?’‘ Ron asked, as though the idea was ludicrous. ‘’No! I certainly am not going to hit you! I’m trying to help you, and I will. I wouldn’t even dream of hitting a child. Especially one already so beat up as yourself. Did your father hit you like that?’‘ Ron’s hand moved toward Will’s newest wound and brushed back his hair. Will said nothing.

‘’Did he?’‘ Ron asked, staring into Will’s eyes. ‘’I won’t tell anyone, I just have to know.’‘ The tears came easily, they rolled down his cheeks, seeping into his welts. Ron wrapped his arms around Will, patting him on the back.

‘’It’s okay.’‘ said Ron gently. ‘’It’s okay, no one will hurt you anymore.’‘ Will’s tears slowly abated and he stayed underneath the slide, being cradled by Ron.

‘’Sir.’‘ said Will slowly. ‘’What is Sojourn and Colks?’‘

’‘Sojourn and Colks is an old, deserted furniture store.’‘ Ron explained, letting go of Will.

‘’How could it be safe then?’‘ Will asked.

‘’Well-’‘ said Ron, choosing his words carefully. ‘’Sojourn and Colks is just a cover my wife and I use.’‘

’‘Cover for what?’‘ Will asked.

‘’A home.’‘ said Ron simply. ‘’My wife, Hermione, and I we run a home for children who have nowhere to go, and we have a unique system for finding children much like yourself.’‘

’‘What system?’‘ Will asked, liking this man more ever minute.

‘’My owl.’‘ said Ron. ‘’Pig. My wife, being a Muggle-born Witch is very intelligent and fitted Pig with her own Charm. A Deprehensio-Liberi Charm.’‘

’‘Can I live there?’‘ Will asked.

‘’Of course you can.’‘ said Ron. ‘’I think it would be best if we used a Portkey to travel instead, seeing as you’re bleeding a lot, I’m not sure Muggles would take to it lightly.’‘ He pulled out a thin, wooden wand from his waistband and pointed it at the tightly ensnared vines.

’‘Diffindo.’‘ he said simply. A piece of the vine broke off with ease. Ron surveyed it lazily. ’‘Accio.’‘ the vine floated to his hand. ’‘Portus.’‘ the vine glowed with a faint blue light.
‘’Sir.’‘ said Will, interested. ‘’What are you doing?’‘

‘’You’ll see.’’ said Ron, grabbing Will’s uninjured hand.

Will felt a painful jerk somewhere in his navel, and the play-park melted around him in a whirl of color. He felt short of breath, as if he was going to throw up, and then, he smacked onto the pavement of a deserted street. Looming before him was the dirtiest building Will had ever laid eyes on. Ron helped him to his feet.

The building was made of dirty red brick. The door was in bad shape and in need of repainting. The shop windows that displayed ugly moth-eaten couches were missing several panes. A large, splotched, almost illegible sign hanging by one rusted bronze hinge read the words: SOJOURN & COLKS in script lettering. Will surveyed the shop with distaste, but Ron wore a small, schoolboy smile as if he were being mischievous. He walked up to the shop window and rapped on the few panes that were intact with his wand. The glass was still for a moment then ripples pulsated through the glass. Ron stepped backward, seized Will’s uninjured arm and leapt through the glass.

The glass window melted into a solid brick wall. Will found himself standing, not on a cold, night street in London, in front an antique furniture store, but in a large room made of red brick with an uneven off-white tiled floor. The only light came from two large windows that took up a wall each, that silvery light streamed through. There was a long, spiral staircase twisting this way and that, through the building like a giant serpent. A large, empty fireplace stood black against the red brick wall. Other than that, Will and Ron were the only two things in the room.

‘’Hermione!’’ Ron called. ‘’I got him!’’ With a loud crack, that sank Will’s stomach to his shoes, a woman with bushy brown hair and brown eyes wearing a periwinkle blue dressing gown appeared in the room.

‘’This is my wife, Hermione.’’ Ron introduced to Will.

‘’Pleasure.’’ Hermione smiled at him.

‘’Pleased to meet you, miss.’’ said Will, giving a short bow.

‘’What a well-mannered young man you are.’’ She said. ‘’What is your name?’’

‘’Hermione, let the boy sleep, he’s had a long journey.’’ Ron said abruptly.

‘’Ron!’’ said Hermione, somewhat reproachful. ‘’He’s covered in blood! Was he hit?’’


‘’I’ll tell you as soon as he is in bed. Let him sleep.’’ Ron said, in a final sort of way.

‘’Ever since our schooldays honestly, Ron!’’ said Hermione hotly, her hand resting on the stair banister. ‘’Very well. Come on them, er-Malfoy.’’ Will’s blood ran cold. As he was about to put his foot on the sixth stair, he turned to Hermione.

‘’Sorry?’’ he asked.

‘’Oh, it’s nothing, dear, since I do not know your actual name, I just thought of a name to call you. You look a lot like a boy I knew from my own days at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy. Sorry, if it offended you.’’

‘’No, miss.’’ Will said, as he continued to climb the stairs. ‘’It didn’t. I don’t even know the man.’’


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Hermione led Will up the serpent staircase to what seemed to be the topmost floor. Crooked Wizarding photographs dotted the walls, many of a group of people with flaming red hair. There was also a newspaper clipping yellowing with age that showed a black-and-white photo of a family in front of a towering pyramid pinned up next to a color Wizarding photograph that showed a teenage redhead, a black-haired-green-eyed, bespectacled teenage boy, and a teenage girl with bushy brown hair, all smiling and waving furiously, their arms linked with one another. There was just one door in the small hallway. Hermione led him to the door, but didn’t open it.

‘’Take the bed nearest to the window.’’ She said to him. ‘’I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.’’ She gave him a quick hug, before Disapparating. Will smiled slightly and turned the doorknob.

The room was large and dark. There were only a few windows along the walls, and one long window on each wall at the end. Meager moonlight played across the identical navy blue bedspreads. It swam from bed-to-bed, not lingering much. Will watched the silver light curiously, following it slowly from sleeping child to sleeping child. The moonlight reached the bed nearest to the window and too tired to even take off his shirt, fell into the navy blue bedspread. It was like flopping onto a cloud. A digital clock embedded in the red-brick wall flashed neon green numbers. It flashed 4:16 AM, before Will’s eyes slowly closed.


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An hour or so later, Will was jolted awake by voices arguing, trying to whisper, but not having much success.

‘’Ron!’’ said a voice, which Will recognized as Hermione’s. ‘’You were the one who wouldn’t tell me! And now, you want to throw him out? You were the one that found him!’’ she said hotly.

‘’Well, that was before I truly knew who he was!’’ Ron yelled. ‘’Had I have knew he was that-that wanker’s offspring I would have left him to die under that slide!’’

‘’So what?’’ Hermione yelled. ‘’So, he’s Malfoy’s child! We’re just Ash’s-‘’

‘’Shut up!’’ Ron hissed. ‘’Point is, he’s a damn spy for his father!’’

‘’How would you know, Ron?’’ Hermione yelled. ‘’The poor thing is covered in blood! I doubt he’d be a spy of any sort!’’

‘’Fine!’’ Ron yelled. ‘’But when we wake up and see the Dark Mark over our house don’t blame me!’’

‘’So, you aren’t going to toss him out?’’ Hermione asked, tentatively. There was a long, hard silence following Hermione’s inquiry. Will’s breath caught in his throat, staring at the four square parquet. Anxiousness pulsating through his body like poison.

‘’No.’’ said Ron, finally. ‘’I won’t.’’

‘’Do you promise, Ron?’’ Hermione asked him, worriedly.

‘’Yes, Hermione, dear, I promise, I won’t throw him out, but Geoffrey won’t be at all pleased with it.’’ He replied.

‘’Well, Geoffrey will have to adapt, just like Scabbers did to Crookshanks, remember?’’ said Hermione, her voice full of warm happiness.

‘’Hermione.’’ Said Ron, somewhat stiffly, torn between disturbance and absolute seriousness. ‘’Scabbers turned out to be a mass murderer.’’

‘’Oh right.’’ Hermione murmured. ‘’Right. Bad example.’’

‘’Anyway, it’s late, and you haven’t laid down at all since you brought Will here. I’ll tend to the children this morning. You sleep.’’ Hermione said sweetly.

‘’Thank you.’’ Said Ron, yawning. There was the sound of them clambering up the serpentine staircase, and that was the only sound Will heard as he fell back into his pillows, wondering if Ron would keep his promise to Hermione.