{Open}To keep your ghost away...

Godric was in the same clearing on the outskirts of Hogsmead that the battle had taken place. He had lost something important here. He just didn't know what. As he walked around the site, he noticed all the damage caused by the spells that had flown through the air. He saw the spot where 'Bob' latter known to be Matt had been standing. He didn't want to remember that night but needed to see the damage.

"Returning to the old memories"Matt laughed. He was leaning on a post. "I suppose Christabelle probably told you who I am right?"

Godric stared at the man. Lestrange. He didn't want to fight again. There wasn't the time with all he had to do. What do you want Matt? His hand was twitching with the need to get to his wand. He was sure the other man wasn't going to be stupid enough to attack him again. That wouldn't be good if what Christy had said was all true. He was still missing something. Then it hit him. He had left his lyre here that night. It was something he had found when he was back at Durmstrang. It was the last thing he had now that his pendent was gone. He scanned the destroyed clearing for it to no avail. Bloody hell he cursed under his breath. He looked at Matt again. You wouldn't by chance know where my lyre is would you? He was more worried about the lyre then fighting 'Bob' again.

As the broken and battered lyre came soaring through the air Godric grabbed it. "Thanks." he said in a monotone. It's frame was broken and badly damaged. It's strings had snapped and would have to be replaced. The tuners for the strings had all been destroyed. "By Merlin's beard." he said with an angry tone to his voice and a cold look in his eyes. "Repiro" he said as he pulled out his wand and touched it to the lyre. The spell just bounced off the reflective surface. "Looks like I have to take it to the shop." he said absently. He didn't know why he was sitting here, in the middle of where there fight had taken place, chit chatting with the man that had tried to kill him. He looked over and smiled darkly. "I hear your wanted by the DE." he said with almost a laugh.

Godric laughed at Matt openly. "Now Matt, wouldn't I have already tried to send up the dark mark, or something like that if I was going to attack you? I am a Death Eater still, but I have a higher calling." he winked as he looked at the lyre. "And had I been thinking the last time, I would have used this to reflect your spells..." he held the lyre up and it's silver surface caught the reflection of the moon. "So I rely don't think fighting tonight would be such a good idea. Not to mention I didn't use my entire arsenal of spells and talents that night." As he said that a mud ball flew from the ground and right at Matt. Godric was smiling playfully.

Godric laughed at the mud ball hitting him. He had thought the man would have at least dodged but was happy that there was laughter in the air instead of curses and Hexes. He rely didn't want to fight right now. All he wanted was to get his precious lyre fixed. As he looked around he shook his head. "So do you even know the reason we fought or were we both just pissy that night?" He hadn't minded Matt when he was his Muggle Studies professor and hadn't rely taken to heart his rude comments when he first arrived at the Malfoy Manner.

By Mother Shipton's blessed head it was damn well cold in this country!

Mordecai lifted his right arm and coughed into the crook of his elbow as he paused for a moment and took stock of his surroundings. The day was calm, the wind quiet and the clouds clear yet Mordecai couldn't stop shivering as if a ghost was hovering behind him. Having spent his entire life on continents whose winters were considered scorchers the weather of Great Britain was something of a surprise...and not a good one.

And where the ruddy blazes was he?

Hogwarts. He had to get to the school. However appariating was out of the questions and flying in was a last resort. He had no idea how the Headmaster would take to an utter stranger swooping in out of the blue. No it was best to stick to proper etiquette until he got the job. He didn't haul himself half way around the world just to have his application fall through the cracks over a slight misdemeour of pissing off the school guardian or whatever watch dog they had protecting the place.

But that still didn't resolve him of his issue. Location location location.

With a travel weary sigh Mordecai unsoldered his sailor bag that was packed with his worldly possessions in such a way that it would have baffled any Muggle who tried to open it. Imagine having shoved the contents of an entire house into one small canvas bag? Not to mention an impressive collection of world-class racing brooms. Ah, the simple joys of magic. What would he ever do without them? Ah well, back to more important matters. Giving his back a quick jolt he cracked a kink in his spine that had been nagging at him for the last hour and reached into the pockets of his travel worn cloak for his navigational guide. It looked like an old battered looking brass compass but when he flicked open the scratched lid, the numerous dials and rotating faces proved to differ. He studied the facings for a moment and took note of where the elegant needle pointed to before he snapped the guide shut and shoved it back into the folds of his robes. Right then, east it was.

Hoisting his bag over his shoulder once more Mordecai breathed in deeply before he headed in an easterly direction, right toward the village of Hogsmead and across the path of two strangers. His ears picked up the sound of chatter as he crested a hill and came within view of the small village. Two men, one younger more likely a student and the other older, seemed to be engaged in conversation as he gave them a quick once over. Maybe they were from the school? It was worth a shot.

Raising is left hand into the air in a sign of greeting, Mordecai whistled sharply to catch their attention. The sound echoed across the outskirts and sent a few scavanging crows flapping into the air with an annoyed squawk. Ah, ruddy crows. Always had to complain about something.

"Heyo there mates!" He called out, his deep voice boomed as he gave them a small wave. Mordecai never did things the quiet way. He was a Quidditch player. It was always larger than life and loud as hell with him. Twenty years of locking horns with rowdy blokes in mid-air does that to a person.