As James reached the top of the rope, a hand shot down over the edge and grabbed hold of his forearm, helping to pull him out. James grunted with effort as he finally folded over the top and crawled onto snow covered earth. "Blimey," he said, glancing back over his shoulder. "I didn't even see that thing!"

"Yeh ain't suppposed ter see it Messer Potteh, is yeh? S'what secret protectin' is all abou' innit?"

James looked 'round at the familiar voice. "Mr. Frek!" he said in surprise.

Frek nodded. The man had been half the pair that had been the DADA teacher team of the first part of their last year at Hogwarts, assistant to Garm, who had been a most enigmatic man. James never quite figured out how he felt about the duo 'til after they'd left Hogwarts and Garm had been killed on these, the very grounds of Fallengunder, by werewolves who had revolted against the ministry's cruel treatment and turned to alignment with the Dark Lord as members of his army.

"What are you doing here?" James asked.

"Werkin here for the headmistress, ent I?" Frek asked, "Been helpin' out best I can, jus' like I been doin' fer messer Garm all them years... helpin' out best I can..." He nodded.

"Headmistress?" James asked.

Frek nodded, "Ain't yeh been hearin' what's been on here at Fallengunder, then?"

James shook his head.

Frek chuckled. "Ahs well, yeh be seein' soon Messer Potteh. C'mon, its just time for dinner a'fore yeh'll be seein' the lady I reckon." He waved James to follow after him and started up the hill across the grounds to the castle.

James glanced back over his shoulder as they went and saw the moment the ditch went invisible again, flickering out of sight. He was tucking his wand in its holster under his coat as he walked. "So the invisible ditch -"

"More like a moat, messer Potteh," Frek replied, "Yeah it goes all 'round the grounds edge..."

"You get attacked so much 'round here you need it to keep danger out?" James asked.

"Keep 'em dangers out?" Frek laughed. "More to like keepin' 'em in." He winked and turned back to the path.

James raised an eyebrow, unsure what he was walking into, but hurried to keep up to Frek.

The castle doors were not as high and looming as Hogwarts entry hall was, they were smaller but more heavily locked and even had a thick, heavy beam that blockaded them shut, though the beam was, unnervingly enough, on the outside of the door.

There was a heavy iron crank which Frek did by hand, and the beam slid aside so that the doors could open - pushing in rather than opening out. "Gon' warn yeh, Messer James, it ain't been more'n a few hours clean up since the full mo0n, so yeh can't judge the state of it in here by whats yeh see today."

James started to ask what Frek meant but they stepped into the lantern-lit entry to find there was quite a mess inside - furniture knocked over and general disarray. Directly within the doors was a grand stair with two cases that curved up either side of a huge circular room. The stairs were lined with thick blue velvet carpet and at the top landing was an absolutely enormous painted portrait of Ned Veigler, his hair as wild on the portrait as James had ever seen it in life. The portrait smiled and nodded, watching with Ned's twinkling eye as Frek led James straight on through the doors below the landing and into a long, narrow great hall, much smaller than Hogwarts.

The hall may have been smaller, but it was easily thrice as chaotic as James had ever seen Hogwarts castle during a feast.

There were two long row tables, rather than four, and probably three to four hundred people sitting about them. People was the only word James knew to use, for there was no one sort of person there. There were human boys and girls, of course, all who seemed roughly ranging between 7 to 20 years old, but there were others, too. A boy with a long hooked Goblin nose sat beside a person with perfect blond hair that covered the entire body so thickly that it shook when they spoke - a yeti, James thought fleetingly. There was a young giant and a red-eyed vampire girl whose fangs showed when she smiled shyly at James as he followed Frek past her. But mostly, there were people who looked perfectly ordinary save for the fact that they were positively devouring the thick, bloody steaks that sat in piles on the tables.

"What is this?" James asked warily, waving back at the vampire girl after she had made awkward eye contact and turned red and waved back to him.

"Fallengunder School," Frek said. "Home to all the unwanteds." He nodded, "All them - them is all kids what been put out of home on account'er their magical maladies. Mostly werewolves labelled incurable by the Ministry."

James skin prickled at the word incurable. He thought of Constance and what she'd told him about the tests at Mungo's and he wondered how many of these kids might've fallen victim of that darkness if the castle wasn't here.

He realized suddenly that Constance herself would benefit from seeing this place. Lily had said she felt the remorse and guilt coming from the old woman, and yet it was very likely her battle for Mr. Archer had brought these kids situation to the eyes of the Ministry, thereby to the eyes of people like Garm and Frek, like Newt and Ned and Elva and whoever else had had a part in... this.

Frek brought James right up to the staff table and magicked up an extra chair beside the empty one he settled into at the end. There were cooked foods on the table, too, not just the raw steaks, and soon Frek was talking around mouthfuls of a leg of turkey while he spoke about the how this place had been such a struggle to create because it took so much to keep it up without the help of the Ministry.

"They don't help at funding it?" James asked.

"Ain't in the UK is what them Ministry officials be usin' as their official excuse," Frek answered, shaking his head, "But we's all knows they ain't been like to werewolves - an' further they been sayin' its out their jurisdiction, on account more'n half the kids is muggles... They says its on the Muggle Ministry to fund it, but its also illegal for us to approach the Muggles 'bout 'em cuz the Statue of Secrecy. Theys got us in a real catcher if yeh sees what I mean. Can't count 'em magical they says, but they's too magic to be talkin' of."

James shook his head, disgusted and offended and thinking of Remus Lupin and the rubbish he would have gone through if it hadn't been for Albus Dumbledore and the Shrieking Shack. James felt a newfound wave of thankfulness toward Dumbledore at this realization.

If only Dumbledore had been able to help Ned Veigler the same way when he was a kid, so he hadn't had to go off and live with Greyback and Druella Black... Although Ned had turned out alright in the end, he reckoned things would've been a good deal easier on him if he'd been as lucky as Remus Lupin.

"Frek, did you know Ned really well?" James asked.

"Ah not really... Yeh remember Messer Garm was a collector before he was changed hisself so it weren't very long we wasn't but seen as a enemy to the werewolves," he said, and he sighed, "We was workin' the wrong side without ever knowin', an' by then you ain't able to turn back so easily when yeh known one way and change for another. Redemption ain't always accepted by other people even iffen yeh good with yeh heart." Frek spoke all this in abbreviated scraps of words, punctuated by greedy bites off the turkey leg. He finished one up and grabbed at another. "Sorry I'm eatin' such an feverish pace, Messer James, is just we really get hungry after the full moon 'round here... ah but yeh understand that, I 'spect."

James nodded. "It's no problem."

"Yeh wantin' information on Messer Ned yeh do yeh best with Missus Elva. She knew 'im better'n anyone sides p'raps Newt Scamander hisself."

James hadn't even thought of asking Newt, and it suddenly occurred to him just how lousy he really has been doing on the Marjorie Grant case and he felt a renewed sense of guilt again. If anything had happened to that girl... he shook his head to drive away the thought.

The feast seemed to go on for hours and the kids at the tables were a flurry of noise, laughter, and small scrappy fights over steaks broke out here and there, each stoped by a stern throat clearing of the Headmistress - Elva Greenwood, who sat at the center of the staffing table, wearing a great white fur coat. When the meal was finally ended, the kids were escorted out in packs, which were roll called and lead away in groups of maybe 5-10, broken up by age groups, and soon the hall was empty, save for staff. Most everyone at the table got up and started clearing away dishes and cleaning up the mess of spilled foods and drinks, papers and lost and found items left behind. This was a muggle process which magic took care of at Hogwarts, James realized, and he quickly did his part by setting the teetering piles of dishes floating to the kitchens by magic, much to the delight of the staff that was tiring of picking up. He recognized faces from the packs that Ned had saved before he passed, folks employed who were likely also Incurable by Ministry standards.

Elva Greenwood approached James while he was helping to clear away the mess, magicking a broom to sweep under the tables while the furniture levitated to make it easier. "What I wouldn't give for a talent like yours every day," she said, smiling, "We thank you for your assistance tonight. As a visitor in our halls, it is truly generous of you to assist in the clean up... particularly on a night when the... enthusiasm... has led to a good deal more mess than usual."

James shrugged, "Not a problem at all... I wish I could do more," he added. "And I wish I could say helping was why I'd come, but honestly I came to talk to you."

"I've been expecting you," she said, nodding.

"You have?"

Elva nodded, "Of course. I heard that Mr. Underhill had given you the case, and I knew you would be along."

James blinked in surprise. "You - you knew? But how? Wait. Do you know Underhill?"

Elva looked about, "Let's us go to my office and we can talk more there."

Frek waved goodbye as James turned and followed Elva Greenwood in her flowing white fur. Her long pale white-blond hair hung down her back, wild and messy with small braids at the sides that had been pinned up in a halo 'round her face, stuck through with pale blue gemstones. She looked like ice queen of sorts, some sort of pale sapphire fairy or something, and moved with the grace of a fox as they climbed the stairs.

When they passed Ned's painting he looked down at her with loving eyes and she glanced up and stated back at him, her fingers trailing the edge of the frame. The painted version of Ned touched the space where her skin touched, as though trying to catch up with a memory.

"His portrait hasn't spoken yet," she said to James as they moved down a corridor. "Dumbledore says they can sometimes take a time, but its possible it never will... These things happen... especially when they're painted after the subject has passed..." she sounded sad.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Miss. Greenwood," James said respectfully.

She took a deep breath that sounded just the smallest bit shaky, as though girding herself, and nodded. James got the feeling she couldn't speak, and he worried that his line of questions might be too much for her - but blimey he had to find the little girl, and wouldn't Ned have wanted that, too?

It was too bad, he thought, that the portrait wasn't speaking yet. He could have just asked the painted Ned all his questions and been done with it. More than half his work would be done.

Elva led him to an office deep in the twisting corridors of the castle, which had an ordinary door, though ornately carved with roses and the shape of an arctic fox, it didn't have any special security features he could see.

Inside, she set a kettle on a fire and waved a palm to a couple of high backed chairs that set facing one another. "Just let me change and we shall have a talk about all the things you have to ask me."