Her scruffy brown satchel was flung round her head and it made a slight tapping noise when she walked. She was almost on top of the boy before she saw him lurking in the shade of a Holly bush near the far greenhouse.

Brooke was relieved and motioned him over to a large willow whose branches hung close to the earth, almost obscuring them from view.

She sat down on the cool ground and leaned against the tree. From her satchel, she once more removed the parchment ad read to Kaisra,

"May 11th.
My dear Brooke,
Currently in Germany, having been given a rather promising lead on you-know-what. Try not to worry too much, but there may actually be something you can do to help. There is a student at your school whose situation, I was told by Grimaldi, bears some resemblance to your own and may know more than we do.
Love Dad.
Ask Kaisra Spiaz."

Brooke dropped the parchment on the grass.

"You'd be far from wrong if you think I wouldn't see you. You're dead wrong," he said, looking somewhat irritated. "Now, please, Serina, can we have a few minutes?"

"You don't have to be rude, Kay. We, and I mean Serina and I, were to meet here before class. So you leave and take Brooke with you." Frowning, Dom turned to Serina and said, "In fact, since we have manners, we will leave." Taking her friend by the hand she stomped away. "The nerve of that boy," she told Serina.

He was a bit shaken after being called "rude". He was just relieved no one else was there to hear it. It was later that night, however, that he would realise the impact of those words...

But that comes later.

Kaisra nodded and walked back to where Brooke was. He checked once more to make sure no one was around.

"Is your father an Unspeakable..." he paused, thinking about his next word. "Also?"

She saw what her father had hinted at. The boy had hidden depths no question. And perhaps... but it was too early to tell.

Brooke glanced all round her. The subject matter made it almost instinctive, combined with Kaisra's recent confrontation with Serina. There was nobody there however.

Nevertheless she lowered her voice til it was scarecly audible.

"No my father isn't. In fact my father's fine really, just deeply troubled, he's..., well..., my mother..., it's..."

Brooke stopped. She wasn't telling this well at all.

Then she realised. Perhaps he had already heard? It had certainly been all over 'The Daily Prophet' a couple of years ago.

"My father," she continued, "is Bertram De Black." She paused. "If you know what I'm going to say, that is if you know, please stop me now, as I've never had to, had to explain this before. I mean you probably think I'm pretty loud, but to be honest only about school stuff. Not this."

Brooke halted again and looked at him seriously.

She didn't know why, but she instinctively felt this boy would help if he could. Though goodness knows why, as it was abundantly clear he had issues of his own.

Brooke liked that. He didn't try to comfort her or make her talk.

Brooke had never had to voice this previously. But if it might help... Brooke held on to this thought.Held onto her father's grief.

Eventually she spoke. So softly he had to bend down to hear.

"For just over two years my father has worked to, has tried to prove that... Look basically my mother is -" She cupped her fingers to his ear and whispered the last two words.

She sat back.

"What do you mean 'you're Brooke'?" she questioned him. "I mean, not to be rude, but I'm pretty sure I don't know you."

Brooke leaned back against the soothingly cool bark of the willow and looked up at Kaisra, who was pacing up and down and seemed in deep reflection.

"You're Daiva's daughter."

A tiny tear flickered at the corner of her eye. She brushed it away fiercely. Brooke didn't cry.

"I can't tell you more than I have, I'm sorry..." He said sincerely, sighing.