A/N: Happy New Year all! Here's hoping that I'm the only one on this site who came back from a party awake/sober enough to finish revising a fanfiction chapter. May everyone here have a happy, healthy 2013 with greater memories than they had in 2012, no matter how good 2012 was to them.
Now, after all our parties have ended, enjoy reading about the end of this party!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all original characters/background belong to J.K.R., my new characters and plots belong to me, and 2013 belongs to all of us.
Chapter 4: The Party, Part 3
"Who is the elderly woman?" Viktor looked around at his comrades. He could tell from Olga's expression that she had been wondering the same thing. Smart woman.
"What elderly woman?" asked one of the other men.
"The one who is in the background the entire time, watching everything that happens."
The man shrugged. "Just a bystander."
"She is a witness, at least," said Olga.
Viktor turned to her. "Whose memory is this?"
Olga hesitated at this. "We don't actually know. The man who brought it to us said it was not his originally. It had been implanted in him by a stranger. He begged us to make him forget it."
"He said this under veritaserum?"
"Of course. Do you think me a fool?"
"Of course not. Did he describe the stranger?"
"He had no memory of her. Whoever she was, she was skilled with memory charms. All he remembered was her voice."
"And you listened to this voice yourself?"
"Yes. It sounded like a young woman. I will know it when I hear it."
"Of course you will." The new voice spoke in English, and all turned and looked across the table to a corner of the room that was in shadow. A figure seemed to form out of the shadow itself.
Viktor knew that Pius Thicknesse had once been under the influence of an imperius curse by Lord Voldemort, and he didn't doubt that during that time, Thicknesse had learned various forms of dark magic. Viktor himself had been put under an imperious curse once, though only briefly, and he knew what it was like to have such dark thoughts inside his mind.
Thicknesse's beard was as pointy and dark as ever, and his long hair flowed back into the shadow he had emerged from. He had lost his position as Minister of Magic after Voldemort's fall, even though he had been imperiused, and since then he had attempted a series of supposedly altruistic initiatives, the latest of which was participating in the new security organization here in Eastern Europe.
"What can you tell us, Mr. Thicknesse?" Viktor didn't like the man. There were too many mysteries about him.
"I can tell you nothing. That is why you will find out everything you can. All of you."
Viktor heard one of his comrades nearby mutter under his breath, "I miss Earl." Thicknesse now seemed keen to become de facto leader of the organization.
"Very well," Viktor replied. He looked at all of his companions. "But I want to know who that elderly woman is."
As the meeting broke and the mission began, another of Viktor's comrades copied the previous sentiment. "I wish Earl were still here."
"He has chosen his new life," Viktor replied.
"And now we have to deal with Thicknesse."
"For the time being."
Harry couldn't find the Headmistress anywhere. It seemed as though she were no longer at the party, but there were so many guests in this huge room that he couldn't be sure. And since he couldn't find Ginny anywhere, either, and was quite certain she hadn't left, he figured he just had to search a little bit more.
A head of straight, very-light-brown hair caught his attention, distracting him from his search. He knew that hair anywhere.
Coming up behind her, he reached out and tapped her bare shoulder, distracting her from her conversation.
She turned, and a smile crossed her face. "Harry!"
"Hello, Lisa. How are you?" They shared a hug, and Harry glanced over her shoulder to see who she had been talking to, but didn't recognize any of the faces of the women around her.
"I'm well, thank you. And you?"
"Just fine." He smiled back at her. Lisa Corner, formerly Lisa Turpin, had been in his year at Hogwarts, though he had never really noticed her at school. She had been small and awkward, a Ravenclaw bookworm with nothing extraordinary about her. When he encountered her two years afterwards, however, it had been an entirely different story.
"Is Ginny here? I haven't seen her."
"Yes, she's... somewhere," Harry replied, looking around for his wife once more.
Lisa laughed. "Michael is being just as elusive tonight. Come, there's someone you should meet." She took hold of his arm, pulling him among the group of women she had been chatting with. The woman directly across from her gazed at him with a pair of dark brown eyes that matched her hair. "This is our hostess, Marlene Black."
Harry held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Black. This is a lovely party."
"Thank you, Mr. Potter. I'm very pleased to meet you as well."
Harry pulled himself back out of the conversation and turned to Lisa. "So how have you been? How's Laura?"
"I've been well. And Laura... well, she's bored. It's the summer."
Harry nodded understandingly. "Yeah, James is very bored as well. So is Albus."
"Well, whose house could possibly match up to Hogwarts in terms of... well, anything?"
Harry shrugged and laughed, then an idea occurred to him. "I'm sure James would love to see Laura over the summer. A vacation, perhaps, my family and yours. My niece and nephew could come along to keep Albus and Lily company."
His enthusiasm collapsed as Lisa shook her head, looking apologetic. "I'm afraid Michael has already made other plans. He's invited Marcus Black to come spend the remainder of the summer with him, and learn the trade."
"I see. Well, perhaps just you and Laura, then." But Lisa was already shaking her head again.
"You and I both know that wouldn't be fair, Harry."
Harry nodded and shrugged. "Worth a shot."
"But we'll be sure to have you and your family over for dinner one night in the next few weeks. Marcus is also in James and Laura's year, so they all know each other."
"Oh, brilliant." Harry looked around again for Ginny, eager to let her know. "Thanks."
"Quite welcome." She glanced back at the other women as they laughed at something.
"I'd better find Ginny," said Harry, not wanting to keep Lisa from her conversation for too long. "See you soon."
"You bet. Good seeing you." Lisa turned back to her companions, and Harry backed into the crowd.
Looking around once more, he spotted the Headmistress's escort, Mr. Strumthort, towering above those around him.
"Mr. Strumthort!" The man glanced his way and nodded. "Do you know where the Headmistress is?"
He shook his head. "But there is something you should know. I saw your wife go upstairs with a strange man." He had an apologetic look on his face as he said this.
Er... what? "Ginny?"
"Yes."
Harry moved towards the staircase. What in the world could she have gone upstairs for? Perhaps it was someone else who looked like her?
He quickly ascended the stairs, not bothering to worry about who might have noticed. There were several rooms with closed doors, but through the closest door he heard his wife's voice.
He knocked. "Ginny?"
"Harry?" came the reply from the other side. Moments later, she opened the door. "What are you doing up here?"
"I'm not exactly sure. What are you doing up here?" He could see a man he didn't recognize behind her.
"Hi, Harry," said the man. The voice sounded familiar.
"Who are you?"
"It's George," Ginny replied.
Harry stared at her. "George?"
"My brother."
Harry looked at the stranger. "George?"
George nodded. "My twin and I gave you the Marauder's Map in our fifth year at Hogwarts."
Harry relaxed at this, though he couldn't even begin to guess what George might be doing here in disguise. "What are you doing here?"
"That's what I'd like to know, too," said another voice. Harry glanced over his shoulder to see a girl standing there.
This had to be the Blacks' daughter, as she looked like a younger version of the hostess, whom he had just met downstairs. "You must be Michaela."
She nodded. "And you're Harry Potter." She said this very matter-of-factly, without the tone of awe or excitement that Harry was accustomed to hearing from children. She came up beside him and ducked under his arm into the room, staring at George. "And what is George Weasley doing in my house?"
"Well, first of all, this is your parents' house," said George. "And as for what I'm doing here, I'm proving wrong your accusations this past May."
"This past May?" Harry frowned. What in the world was going on here?
Michaela looked up at Ginny. "Did you know your dear brother paid a visit to Hogwarts this past May? And dropped me off the roof of Ravenclaw Tower?"
"That was an accident. You went invisible!"
"You were holding me in the air! On a broom!"
"You had attacked my nephew!"
"He had attacked me!"
Harry and Ginny watched the volley back and forth, both at a complete loss for what all this was about. Had George really visited Hogwarts this past May?
"Alright, enough of this," said George. "Is Philip Black at this party?"
"I'm not telling," Michaela replied, crossing her arms.
"Who is Phillip Black?" Ginny asked, and both looked at her as though she were interrupting.
"Her uncle," George replied. "He used to work for me."
"They used to work together!" said Michaela.
"In my store. Anyway, we had a parting of the ways. He had some ideas that were... well, just too much."
Michaela rolled her eyes at this, and Harry frowned. "What do you mean?" What could be too much for George Weasley?
"Some real scary stuff. Stuff that couldn't be sold to the general population."
"Says you," said Michaela.
"I've been doing this for a while, Michaela. I think I know better than you do. Some of the stuff got out, and I had to quickly recall all of it. Quite an embarrassment that was. Then I kicked him out of the store. Next thing I know, my designs start disappearing."
"You mean his designs."
"They were mine, Michaela. I knew it was him, but since no trace of him nor any counterfeit products ever showed up, I just assumed he hadn't been able to reproduce anything on his own, and thought that was the end of it."
"How could he have? He had nothing to work with."
George nodded. "Good thing, too, with some of the ideas he had." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box with three gold Ws on it. "Do you recognize this, Michaela? It still has your fingerprints on it."
Michaela grimaced. "I sure do."
George turned to Harry, holding up the box. "This is one of the products I had to recall. Phillip designed it as a Halloween prank, but it was just too damn scary to be sold." He looked at the box. "Turns out at least one had been created without my knowledge. And of course, young Miss Black turns up with it at Hogwarts."
"Actually, I used it on the train."
"Against James," said George, looking at Harry and Ginny. Harry's eyes widened, and he looked at his wife.
She was standing very still, staring at her brother. "What?"
"It's not that serious, Mrs. Potter," said Michaela. Her voice had dropped significantly. "All it does is scare you."
"Quite a bit," said George.
"I knew it wouldn't harm him," said Michaela. She turned to Harry now. "Honestly, I wasn't trying to hurt your son."
She sounded sincere enough, given her age.
"Well, that's only the beginning of the story," said George. He looked at his sister. "Are you not going to drink that wine?"
Harry looked down at the full goblet of wine that his wife was holding. Was that the same wine from before?
"Um, no," Ginny replied, giving Harry a glance.
Harry understood the look. "Neither are you." Drawing his wand, he vanished the contents of the goblet. He still had to talk to the Headmistress, and until then, he didn't want anyone drinking the wine she had stopped them from drinking before.
"Well, that was a waste," said George. "Honestly, they really should learn to appreciate wine more in wizarding Britain. Don't try to sneak out, Michaela."
"I'm not," Michaela replied. She had taken several steps towards the door. She gestured towards it, and Harry saw Mrs. Black standing in the open doorway.
"Hello, all. I didn't realize some of the party had moved upstairs."
"Mom, we have an intruder," said Michaela. She pointed at George, who was still disguised. "That's George Weasley."
"Mr. Weasley?" The hostess fixed her gaze on him. "And what might you be doing here?"
George held up his hands. "I'm sorry, Marlene, but I need to talk to Phillip. Is he here?"
"Certainly. He's downstairs. But as you are not an invited guest at this party, and I can only imagine what you did to the guest you are impersonating right now, though I don't know who he is, I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave. Preferably without drawing any further attention to yourself."
"I didn't hurt him, I promise," said George. Nevertheless, he was clearly taking each of the hostess's words with respect, as he was backing towards the open window. He turned to Harry. "Harry, find Phillip Black and get the truth from him. These products need to stop circulating. And as for you," he added to Michaela, "just be careful. You're playing with fire." Turning, he aimed his wand through the window. "Accio nimbus. Marlene, this is a lovely party. You really did a great job." The broom arrived in the window, and George got on. "Ginny, see you soon." With that, he flew out.
There were a few seconds of silence, and then Mrs. Black spoke. "What has my brother-in-law done now?"
"He didn't do anything," said Michaela.
"Be quiet."
It wasn't said that harshly, but Michaela glared at her mother, then ducked past her out of the room. Harry heard her footsteps stomping down the stairs outside.
"She's going to warn him, no doubt. I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but it looks like you will not be able to speak to Phillip tonight."
Harry had a feeling that if he didn't speak with him tonight, he wouldn't get another chance, since he had no idea where to find him. "Excuse me," he said to the hostess, then quickly followed Michaela down the stairs.
The party was somewhat less crowded than before, and Harry noticed that guests were beginning to file out through the entrance tent. He spotted Michaela weaving among the adults around her. She was heading towards the raised platform, on which her father was standing with a few others.
Great, another spectacle in the making.
Michaela stepped up onto the platform, and her father looked at her. She greeted him quickly, then looked back at Harry. Mr. Black looked towards a corner of the room, but Michaela didn't move.
Just as Harry reached the platform, she set off again.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Potter?" asked Mr. Black. His companions turned, and Harry saw that the Minister was there, having previously been turned away from him.
"No, Sir. How do you do, Minister?"
"Fine, Mr. Potter. Just fine."
Michaela was walking quickly across the platform in the direction her father had indicated, and Harry, after a moment's hesitation, stepped up and followed her. If he had kept hidden in the crowd and walked around the platform, he would never have made it in time. Feeling the eyes on his back, he crossed the platform and stepped off near the indicated corner. Michaela was talking to a man on the edge of the crowd.
He was skinny, with his face framed by dark hair and a beard. He bore none of the majesty that his brother did, and instead looked rather downtrodden.
"Mr. Potter," he said as Harry approached, "what George Weasley told you is a lie."
"It's your word against his," Harry replied. He still had his wand out, and now he semi-consciously pointed it at the man.
"Mr. Potter." Peter Black had followed him, and was now standing right behind him. "I would appreciate knowing what is going on here." Mr. Black's voice was loud, and several nearby guests turned to see what was going on.
Michaela stepped between Harry and her uncle, her own wand now drawn. "You won't hurt him." Apparently, she had hidden her wand in her dress, just as Ginny had done. Harry would have been impressed, but for the fact that the wand was now pointed at him.
"My dear," said the Minister, his voice abnormally soft and gentle, "I'm afraid you're not allowed to do magic outside of school. We have something called the Trace, you see."
"You're standing right here, Minister," said Mr. Black. "I hardly think she could be expelled under the circumstances. Now, Mr. Potter, will you please tell me what is going on?"
"I'm not exactly sure, Mr. Black," Harry replied. "That's what your brother was just about to tell me."
The man grimaced. "I'm sorry, brother, but I'm afraid I have to make an early exit. Lovely party, though. See you, my dear girl." Stepping away from Michaela, he disapparated.
Harry frowned, turning to Mr. Black. "Why does your brother talk like he's British?"
"I have a better question, Mr. Potter. What was that about?"
Harry glanced back and forth between Mr. Black and the Minister. "Something for the Auror Department to handle. Not to worry."
Mr. Black glanced at the Minister, who shrugged. "Don't worry, Peter. I'm sure nothing is going to happen that will reflect poorly on you or your family." He turned to Harry. "At the very least, I am certain the Auror department will take the greatest care to handle everything to do with this matter with the utmost discretion."
It was only then that Harry noticed that all the nearby guests had turned away, as though nothing were going on here for them to see. Looking around, he saw Mr. Marteus watching them intently.
"Certainly, Minister," he said, backing away. With a parting nod, he turned back into the crowd.
The crowd continued to thin out as more people left. Harry felt it was time he should leave as well. He found Ginny standing near the staircase, unable to find him. Taking hold of her hand, he nodded towards the exit.
On the way out, they encountered Sebastian Zarin once more. "Mr. Potter, you left your goblet of wine at the table."
"No, thank you," said Harry, waving his wand and vanishing the contents of the goblet. Zarin stared at where the wine had been. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Zarin."
Outside, he at last found the Headmistress, who was also leaving with Mr. Strumthort. He waved her over.
"Yes, Mr. Potter?"
"What was it that you were saying before, about an ability the Zarins have?"
The Headmistress looked around and lowered her voice. "Poison, Mr. Potter. They secrete poison from their fingers. And it leaves no trace. Also, they're immune to veritaserum."
Harry stared at her. "Well, that's new." Apparently he hadn't seen it all just yet. Good thing he vanished the contents of both goblets.
"Be careful, Mr. Potter. I dare say you still have enemies." With that, she returned to Mr. Strumthort. They each transformed into their animagus forms, and the bird carried the cat back into the air and out of sight.
Harry briefly entertained the idea of sticking around and confronting Zarin, but that would only serve to create even more of a spectacle. He had no evidence to hold against him, and if Zarin was indeed immune to veritaserum, that evidence was very necessary. "How do you find evidence of poison that leaves no trace?"
Ginny shook her head, still holding on to his hand. The Aurors had their work cut out for them. Tomorrow was going to be a very interesting day.
"Mr. Potter, are you leaving?" It was the Minister, flanked once more by his undersecretaries.
"Yes," Harry replied. "It's getting late, and it's already been quite an eventful night."
"Aren't they all, Mr. Potter? Very well, but I remind you that Mr. Black's brother lives well beyond our jurisdiction. Any problem involving him is not our problem."
Ginny spoke up. "With all due respect, Minister, it clearly involves my brother as well, and Harry will investigate it."
"Your brother also lives beyond our jurisdiction, Mrs. Potter. I have no say in the matter, and neither does the Auror Department. There are other matters I'd rather you look into. Not that I can stop you, of course, Mr. Potter."
Harry nodded, not even bothering to wonder about what mundane matters the Minister might want to use the Auror Department, or more importantly Harry's name, for again.
"Also," said the Minister, glancing at Ginny, "congratulations." He winked, then put his arms around his confused-looking undersecretaries and disapparated with a loud crack.
Harry looked at his wife. "Congratulations for what?"
"I have no idea." She turned to him, squeezing his hand. "Let's go."
He watched her as she summoned their brooms, noticing once more the dress she was wearing. It was still his birthday.
"Yeah, let's go. I have a dress to re-destroy."
Marcus was still on the balcony with Sarah. They were sitting down now against the railing, and had been quietly discussing Hogwarts as the crowd thinned around them.
Michael Corner appeared. "Ah, there you are, my boy. Er, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
Marcus's eyes widened, and he shook his head. He didn't know whether to feel insulted or not as Sarah started giggling at the question.
"Alright. Ready to go?"
"Sure." Marcus got up and helped Sarah to her feet. "See you in a month. Take care of my sister."
She laughed. "No worries. Bye."
He followed Mr. Corner inside, where they found Mr. Corner's wife, a remarkably beautiful woman, and then made their way towards the platform. Marcus's parents, who were now both standing up there, turned towards them as they approached.
"Heading out, Michael?"
Mr. Corner nodded. "To use one of your expressions, Peter, it's time to hit the hay." The expression sounded so strange with Mr. Corner's accent that Marcus nearly laughed out loud. That would not have gone over very well at all.
"Alright. Marcus, pay close attention to everything he teaches you. Good luck."
"Thanks, Dad."
Marcus's mother stepped off the platform and hugged him, and Marcus immediately felt self-conscious among the remaining guests. "You be good, now."
"I will, Mom," he replied quietly, stepping away from her.
His mother and Mrs. Corner exchanged goodbyes, while Marcus sought out his twin. Finding her, he made his way over.
"Have fun being business-y."
He grimaced. "Thanks. Have fun at Sarah's."
"I will." She paused. "When was the last time we were apart for a month?"
He shrugged. "I don't remember."
She stepped forward and hugged him. "Bye."
Outside, Mr. Corner placed one arm around his wife and the other around Marcus, and disapparated.
Marcus had never traveled by this method before, and it was a very strange sensation, like being sucked through a tube. As he landed beside Mr. Corner, he wobbled slightly, and Mr. Corner's hand tightened on his shoulder.
"Are you okay?"
Marcus nodded. They were standing before a large house on a dimly-lit street. There were no lights on inside the house, and in the darkness, Marcus could make out very little about it. He vaguely remembered details from seven months before, when his family had been invited to dine here.
"Laura's already gone to bed," Mr. Corner noted, looking up at one of the dark windows. Marcus's eyes widened. He had completely forgotten about Laura Corner, or at least that Mr. Corner was her father.
They entered the house, and Marcus looked around, recalling more details.
"I'm afraid you might have to sleep down here tonight," said Mr. Corner. "We don't quite have a room prepared for you yet."
"Nonsense," said Mrs. Corner, "we do have a room prepared. Right this way, Marcus." She led the way up the stairs, and Mr. Corner followed behind.
The room he was to be staying in was about mid-way down a long hallway, opposite another door.
Mr. Corner drew his wand and pointed it at the boy. "If I had my way," he whispered, "you wouldn't be staying nearly so close to Laura. But I trust you, and you know you're not here for that."
Mrs. Corner pushed her husband's wand down. "If you need anything, Marcus, we're right down the hall."
"Thank you." He stepped into the room and looked around. The door shut behind him, and the footsteps receded, until another door could be heard closing at the end of the hall.
He doubted Laura would be happy to see him. He wondered if she even knew that he was coming.
Tomorrow was indeed going to be an interesting day.