CH 223

Volf straightened. "Lord Slytherin. You have something of mine behind you." Lord Slytherin shook his head. "No, you are mistaken. Her debt is now mine. Go find your entertainment elsewhere."

Volf's face reddened. "You're not the only one the whore owes!"

Silence descended on the group, now backed up behind them.

"What?" Slytherin's voice dropped dangerously.

"What!" Clare cried out, getting over her initial shock. "Yes, he is!"

The elder Volf produced a parchment with a flourish. "See?" Slytherin took the proffered document and quickly scanned it. Clare looked desperately between Slytherin and Volf. She didn't owe anyone else anything. She knew she didn't.

"Clare," Slytherin started, "this document says you've sold Robert Volf exclusive rights to your un-polyjuiced 'hospitality' for five years in exchange for four hundred galleons (£20,000)."

Clare recoiled in horror. "I didn't. I swear, my lord, I didn't!"

"The parchment has your signature on it." Slytherin produced his wand, waved it over the parchment and a tendril of magic arced between her, Volf, and the contract. "It is authentic."

"I never received that much money for anything!" Volf waved another parchment. "Receipt of deposit into the whore's Gringotts account."

Clare gasped. The already opened account. "But there wasn't any money in it! It was empty when we went there!"

Volf shrugged and grinned. "Not my problem, my pretty little mudblood."

Slytherin turned to her. "You don't remember signing this?"

"No!"

He turned back to Volf. "You obliviated her."

Volf grinned again. "'I'? I don't know just what you are accusing me of, Slytherin, but I assure you I did not. Of course, accidents can happen, but if you went through the trouble of healing whatever blocks may be in that worthless mind, I guarantee you will find nothing out of line. All my business with the whore is completely legal and above board."

Slytherin grunted.

Clare looked on, horrified. They'd messed with her memories? She actually had signed that contract?

Volf spread his arms. "I had no problem with her staying at the whore house — made it easy for me — But now that she's out well… I just might want to make a claim of my own to be her prison guard, mmm?"

No. Clare started to shake. Volf as her prison guard? She couldn't. "My lord, please—"

"—You'd never win that case." Slytherin interrupted, ignoring her.

Volf smirked. "Oh, I know that. Your debt is bigger. Your political clout is bigger. I wouldn't stand a chance — but that wouldn't matter, because while I wouldn't be able to win, I would be able to hold the case up in court for many months…" he trailed off, still smirking.

Behind them all, Lady Greengrass let out a small gasp.

Volf continued. "…And during that time, the law would insist that the debtor be held in a neutral third part location — Somewhere suitable for a criminal convicted of breaking the international statute of secrecy."

Slytherin's voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "Azkaban." Clare's shaking got worse. Volf smiled.

Slytherin handed the contract to Greengrass. "What is it you want, Volf?"

Lord

"The rest of the whore's debt. I'll buy it. Such a pretty little thing isn't she?"

Clare looked up at Slytherin, who gaze was still fixed on Volf. She reached out and desperately held onto his arm. "Please, my lord. Please don't."

Slytherin looked briefly at her and turned back to Volf. "Bugger off, Volf."

Clare gasped and then let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

Another smile from Volf. "But of course you'd say that — very protective, aren't you? One of the few things anyone knows about you. Oh well," He gave a dramatic sigh. "There is one other option — You can duel me for it. Winner takes the other's debt."

Slytherin tilted his head. "You want to duel me for it?"

"Yes!" Volf's voice suddenly became angry. "Just like you duelled my grandson!"

Clare looked between them, Slytherin's arm. Grandson? Duel?

Slytherin said nothing.

still

on

"Well?!" shouted Volf. "What was it you said to the boy!? 'You can accept the duel, or try your luck with the law?'"

Slytherin looked at her one more time. "Fine." Volf smirked.

Clare's head swam.

Minutes later the alley was set up with temporary duelling wards.

Clare stood off to one side looking at the preparations as though watching a play. It all seemed too unreal.

Emma stepped up to her side. "It's going to be okay," she said in a soothing voice. "Lady Greengrass tells me Slytherin is the best duellist she's ever seen."

Clare looked over to the masked figure standing on one side of the impromptu duelling arena, tall and stoic. "I…" She swallowed. "I hope he wins. I don't want to leave again." Emma hugged her shoulders. "Trust him, Clare. Trust in your lord."

Clare briefly shut her eyes. Her lord. The words sounded oppressive and dangerous, but right then, she desperately wanted to believe in them. She opened them again. "In my lord."

Emma squeezed her shoulders.

The two combatants squared off against each other. Someone had managed to find the auctioneer from the auction house who now stood off to one side holding a handkerchief.

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