Narrator: Ginny Potter

The beginning of this chapter takes place three weeks before Dudley gets kidnapped.

Dad had one of these contraptions back when I was little. He would tinker with it, trying his best to satisfy his curiosity. It certainly smells back here and it is quite confining.

There were six windows in this conveyance on wheels and four doors. There were one large one in the front and one large one in the back with two doors each on either side each with their own windows.

I looked up at the mirror that was situated in the upper-middle part of the front window and saw the gruffily stern eyeballs of the helmsman of this metal encasement of a machine staring piercingly back at me through it. I only thought it queer to have a mirror placed there, that's all, I wanted to say but I thought better of it.

Wham!

I had lurched forward and careened my forehead into the back of the his seat. I didn't know what the movement meant so I looked around unsure and saw that this moving room had stopped. The scenery wasn't whizzing by the windows anymore.

"Better buckle up," he snickered.

"What do you mean?"

He responded with a startled look then recovered.

"Suit yourself, ma'am," he said dismissively.

I frowned. It was more to myself and not to him. Claudia McNellan was a very good friend of mine back when I used to work at a butterbeer shop. She and I haven't stayed in touch but out of nowhere her face appears in my fireplace and she tells me that she wants to get reacquainted. I was thinking about suggesting that we could make talking to each other through our fireplaces a regular thing but she seemed and sounded like she really needed a face-to-face interaction. She tried to sound cheerful while talking to me but she had this despondent look on her face. I didn't want to pry but if I dallied long enough at her place, I thought, she might want to open up. She was vehement about people not apparating into her house for some reason, and she doesn't have a floo network, she said, even though she has a fireplace. (I was bandying about in my mind now whether I should have probed further.) Therefore, she insisted on this thing called a taxi and sent one to my house to bring me to her. As I now sat in this contraption, I mused about what her problems could be.

"Here we are, ma'am," he informed. "And don't worry. The fee is already paid for."

As I got out of the hollow body of this conveyance, he was standing on the sidewalk smiling genially.

"Here's an Aspirin for your headache, ma'am. The least I can do."

I grabbed it and thanked him absent-mindedly. Wait. What's an aspirin, I thought. But when I turned around to ask him, he had already gotten into that thing called a taxi.


Inside of Claudia's apartment was this lemony smell that pervaded the entire place. Everything seemed exaggeratingly tidy. Everything looked so precisely geometrical, so sharply arranged, as if nothing dared to be an iota of a bit crooked. I looked out at the window. It was so bright out. The glare of the sun was almost blinding. I looked around the home to see where she was but couldn't spot her anywhere. But she did answer when I knocked and the door promptly opened but revealed nobody. I tentatively stepped inside.

I saw an envelope on the coffee table. It said Dear Ginny. I opened it to slipped out the paper that was inside:

Please take off your shoes.

Then an eerie feeling crawled down my back. It seemed as if the place was forced to be hush as if the furniture and walls had their mouths clamped shut as they strained to blurt outward.

"Er," I uttered and left.

I scampered down the stairs that led to the upper floor of this two story apartment complex and heard a voice, which reassured me, calling out.

"Ginny! Ginny! Wait!"

I turned around with a smile. It was Claudia. She had a frantic look in her eyes. You don't need to look so distressed, you've got my attention, I thought.

"Ginny. Sorry for not being there when you came in. I had to run to the bathroom right after I opened the door."

She wore a pleading look on her face, one of those where it looks like the person is trying to mask it and look pleasant yet it shows through.

I felt really bad for her and gave her a sympathetic nod.

We were back in her home and remembering the note, I immediately took off my shoes. I didn't want her to have to ask me.

She smiled apologetically at me.

"Socks, too," she said sheepishly.

She must be a obsessively compulsive about cleaniness, I thought, maybe even to the point of being a bit paranoid. I never knew this about her. I shrugged to myself: it was her house, her rules.

After I did that we plopped onto her couch.

"Is everything okay?" I asked and regretted it the moment I had opened my mouth thinking that that was coming on too strongly.

"Everything is fine," she replied brightly but then her smile faltered. "How about yourself?"

"How's Jack?" I blurted out.

When I had seen her composure break like that, I just spilled.

She looked stumped for a secod then she looked down with a sad expression. Oh. Maybe that's where the trouble lies, I thought.

Then she jerked her head back up with a smile.

"Can I get you some butterbeer? We sure knew how to make em' back then, didn't we?"

Before I could answer, she hurried off into the kitchen.

Then suddenly I noticed some pain on the soles of my feet. I checked one then the other and they were pink and throbbing.

She came back with a tray that had two frothing mugs of butterbeer sitting on it and a pair of slippers.

I saw that she was wearing some herself.

"Oh! What's wrong with your feet?" she exclaimed almost unsettling the mugs.

"I don't know."

She peered in to take a look.

"They're sunburnt. Oh my goodness!" she gasped. "Here. Lie down."

I took out my wand.

"Episkey," I casted, sending a spell onto my pained areas.

They felt a bit better.

I gingerly laid my legs up on the couch and reclined back. I suddenly felt how hot it was in here. Had it always been this hot? I must not have noticed before. I looked up at her and she was handing me a mug.

Feeling grateful, I drained half of it in one gulp. It was so refreshing.

"So. How are you and Harry doing?" she asked.

"We're fine. Has it always been this hot in here?"

"Doesn't feel that way to me," she replied sweetly. "I'll go see what I can do."

She went into a room then came back. It felt hotter than before.

"It'll be cooler soon." she assured.

I drank the rest of the butterbeer.

She went back into the same room.

Ouch! I grabbed my ankles and brought my head forward. The bottom of my feet are in the beginning stages of blistering. I could feel searing streaks of pain running from top to bottom on each of the soles. My body started a new emission of perspiration at the thought of the prospect of it cracking like fault lines.

"Episkey," I commanded again, zapping my injured areas.

It healed it a bit but not enough to my liking.

I looked up and she was standing there with two plump pillows that had tassels dangling from each corner of each.

"Pretty," I commented with a smile.

"Lean forward," she smiled, returning it.

After I had been comfortably situated with the new amenties behind my back, she sat down on a plush blue armchair that was behind my head.

"How are you doing these days. We keep talking about me but what about you?" she asked genially.

"I'm not doing so well at the moment," I chuckled.

The room did feel much cooler as promised for which I was grateful for.

"So did Harry get the promotion that he was after? And what was it?"

I fidgeted a little since I didn't expect a question like that.

"Yes. He became the Head Auror." I replied.

"I've been trying to learn how to do wandless magic for a while now. Do you know somebody that can teach me? Can you do it? she asked.

"Yes, I know several people. And no, I can't do wandless magic." I responded.

My answers seem to spill out in kneejerk reactions as if they were tumbling out of their own accord.

"Accio, Ginny's wand," she casted.

I propped up on my elbows and turned to look at her with a startled gawking expression as my wand floated to her.

"I don't want you to accidentally break it or get poked by it as you rest here," she said sweetly. "Are you okay with that?"

As she was talking, she grabbed the hovering wand in mid-air and put it in a bag that was next to her chair.

"Not really." I replied.

"Well . . . okay," she said as she took the wand back out and handed it to me. "Sorry. I thought that it might be kind of jagged and it might feel uncomfortable."

She gave me an apologetic look.

I clutched it and put it next to my thigh, as if barricading it behind it away from her.

She began again.

"Do you know where Harry's been going with this woman and do you know who she is?" she said while handing me a picture of the person from the same bag.

I peered over and recognized her. Strange. The person in the picture wasn't moving. I thought all pictures did.

"That's Maggie Muddlefoot," I told her. Wait, I thought. I didn't mean to offer that information.

She must have slipped me something!

I sat up and whirled half of my body towards her with my wand pointed. I narrowed my eyes zooming my aim right at her chest.

"Harry's been cheating on you!" she exclaimed.

"What?" I said, lowering it.

After I had calmed down, she continued.

"May I?" she said as she took our a series of photographs.

It showed Harry and Maggie at a cafe table, each with a cup in front of them. They were smiling at each other.

"And this one is of them going into a hotel," she said tapping a finger on another one of the pictures.

She peered up at me tentatively.

"That's why I wanted you to come over. I wanted to know if there was anything wrong with your marriage? I apologize if I am being intrusive. I thought that you would want to know about him possibly doing you wrong." she explained.

I relaxed a bit and laid back down. I looked up at her ceiling, thinking.

"Do you know any places where she could have gone off with him? At anytime. Any idea?" she asked.

"No." I replied.

"How do you know her?" she questioned.

"I saw her at my house one time with Harry." I told her.

"When?" she asked.

"About a year ago." I said.

She took out another picture. Author's note: It was a picture of a gun.

"Did you see her with this? It is usually put in the waist hem of the pants. On the hip or in the lower back. It is usually carried in a holder if the person is traveling with it." she explained.

She showed me a picture of this "holder. It looked like a leather pouch that could be strapped onto something.

I thought about that event. It seemed like an ordinary visit. She was introduced to me as a friend. But then, yes . . .

"She had a bulge in the back of her pants that looked like it could have concealed that under her shirt." I answered.

"Did he ever mention her? If so, in what context?" she questioned.

"No-o." I said unsure.

"Hmmm. That thing is a love-potion dispenser. That device injects it into the person." she divulged.

I was shocked. Then I felt that I had a swimming head. Then I esconced myself into my pillow. I had decided to put off those thoughts and deal with them later.

"Can I sleep a bit?" I asked with a hint of exasperation.

"Sure." she said.


When I woke up, it felt like I was in a stranger's house. I felt like I didn't even know this person anymore. I felt like she must have changed drastically since we were in touch. I decided that I should skedaddle.

I got up, slipped on the slippers that she had left for me earlier and headed towards my shoes which were next to the front door. I winced with each step.

She emerged from a room next to the living room. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she had a little mascara running down each of her facial cheeks.

"I have some pumpkin pie and whipped cream for us," she sniffled.

Against my better judgment, I turned around with a consoling face.

"What's wrong?"

"I just can't believe my Roger dumped me. He is so callous. I'm trying to get over him but thoughts about him just keep popping up in my mind which leaves me a slobbering, blubbering mess each time."

"Oh, sweetie."

"I think I could still help you with the Harry thing to find more proof that he's cheating on you." She said then sighed and continued. "I just have no one to talk to. I'm so lonely ever since he left."

Now I was beginning to see what was going on here: She made up the idea of Harry cheating on me in order to get me to keep her company. I mean, those non-moving pictures were not really evidence of an affair. As proof, they were flimsy at best. She sure went through a lot of effort and spent a lot of time in order to corral a friend.

I'll stay. Besides, I want to know who Roger is. He sounded devilish!


I woke up again around past midnight, judging by the darkness outside. The pumpkin pie had made me sleepy. I reckoned that it was about time that I had left. This time for real. I slipped on the slippers and walked towards my shoes.

Then I heard her voice: "Ohhhh . . . "

It sounded like the drawn out groan of missing someone and wallowing in the grief.

I was going to leave her a note of my good-bye but I decided that it might be more polite to do so in person, so I headed towards the room that she was in.

Her door was closed but as I neared it, I could detect a faint nauseating stench. It was from the room next door. I gingerly opened the door and slowly turned on the gas for the lantern that was attached to the wall. A flame whooshed on and lit up the room. There was a dresser, a desk, a chair, a closet and a bed. Everything looked very tidy and a bit stuffy. The furniture of the room looked like they belonged in a room in a quaint cottage and the set-up of them reflects it, yet they were set against a backdrop of modern walls and modern sliding windows. On the bottom half of one, there looked to be numerous faded stains of splatters. The color looked to be dark brown or red. I also found some on the section of the carpet that was right below it. There was, also, a faint aroma of the soap that the spell, Scourgify, uses. I had a strong suspicion that something dastardly and criminal took place here. I immediately drew my wand.

From the window, I could see that the moon was full and seeing it as an omen grew monstrous in my mind, which coupled with my heightened awareness of stumbling onto something ghastly made me search for clues. I had a suspicion that those pieces of evidence might be gone by the time the proper authorities arrived. A normal person might have fled but I felt my Gryffindor bravery and pride for it welling up inside. Then from my peripheral vision, I spotted a long, narrow glint. I picked it up and it was a clear sliver. I put it in my pocket.

I turned the lantern off and tip-toed out of the room towards the front door. The light of the room that Claudia was in was on as indicated by the glow underneath the door. I tried to muffle my steps as best as I could.

When I had reached my shoes, Claudia's words penetrated my ears: "Why are you leaving?"

Her words came out innocent-sounding but they seemed to have slithered out of her mouth instead of being spoken.

I spun around.

"Stupefy!" I vociferated with my wand pointed at her.

But nothing happened. As I realized that, I saw that she had drew her own wand.

"Stupefy!" she declared.

I saw a flash of red light from her then I was out.