Chapter 7 – Picked Up

Submitted: Thursday 2 February 2012

Harry didn't walk out of the Cauldron empty-handed. Eliza MacGreggor, daughter to the Elder MacGreggor, popped into the Cauldron just before midnight. By then, Hannah had allowed Harry to talk out his worries and fears. Now they reliving their Second Year when Hannah and her Hufflepuff mates accused Harry of being the Heir to Slytherin.

"Harry, I was so scared of you. Zacharias had us all believing you'd conjure snakes into the girl's baths."

That caused Harry to laugh uncontrollably, "After I heard what you lot were whispering about me I wish I could have."

Harry had never been much of a drinker. Four fire-whiskeys, even when spaced over a few hours, was well past his limit.

Hannah kept a careful eye on Eliza from the moment she walked in. The young Auror immediately sat next to Harry at the bar and ordered a pint of Butterbeer. Hannah watched her make a sidelong glance at Harry and ask in a cheerful voice, "May I buy the bloke that saved my life a drink? You still haven't allowed me to thank you properly with that dinner I offered."

"It's not necessary," Hannah cut in with a growl, "Harry doesn't pay for drinks here."

Eliza feigned surpise, "How many lives have you saved, Harry?" She glanced at Hannah's hand, "And aren't you married?"

"Both of you be nice." Harry looked first at Eliza, "Hannah is like my sister. Neither of us has much family left and she married one of my best mates. You remember Neville." Eliza nodded understanding and Harry turned to Hannah, "This is Eliza. A Death Eater knocked her off her broom when we were escorting Draco's father from Azkaban the August before last. I caught her before she fell into the Sea. She's just trying to be nice." Both witch's announced a silent truce but each continued to keep a careful eye on the other.

Harry wisely moved from Whiskey to Butterbeers but the damage had been done. He wasn't pissed but he was very cheerful and was much more forthcoming than usual. Hannah noted that Eliza mixed in questions about what Harry looked for in a witch and that he gladly provided insight. She also noticed how Eliza subtly changed certain mannerisms to reflect his answers.

In fact, as Hannah took in the young witch, she wondered if the red-head had intentionally tried to look like Ginny. Her hair had been cut similar to Ginny's. She wore lipstick so that her lips were the same colour as Ginny's. She even laughed and played with her hair a little bit like Ginny did and Hannah was all but sure this was intentional. Hannah shook her head amazed at the lengths that witches would go to in order to get a wizard's attention.

After their third Butterbeer Eliza stood up, "I need to freshen up a bit. I'll only be a moment." Hannah watched Harry's eyes linger after the young witch as she walked away.

"You realise she's here to pick you up, Harry?"

Harry smiled back, "Is it that obvious?"

"It's as obvious as the nose on your..." She huffed as Harry's grin grew, "You're going to let her do it, aren't you? Harry, don't look at me like that. You know she looks a lot like Ginny. A few inches taller and blue eyes but otherwise she's her down to the hairstyle." Again she huffed when he merely grinned back and he tilted his head slightly as if to ask her the point, "Harry, she knows you're vulnerable and she's trying to look like Ginny so you'll...she's just trying to bag you because you are Harry Potter."

Whether because of the whiskeys or because he missed Ginny, he remained unfazed. Hannah tried a different tactic, "Harry, I know that Ginny is seeing someone else but from what I've heard she's been adamant that she doesn't want it to be too serious. She and Isa made some sort of pact that they wouldn't get serious with a bloke until after they've won their first Quidditch Cup. This bloke from Puddlemore is obviously just something to deflect the attention from your match a few months back."

Harry merely shrugged. By then, Eliza had stepped out of the loo and she was adjusting her blouse as she sat down, "I must have missed something juicy. Harry hasn't smiled like that in months."

"I suppose not," Hannah groused. "I hope you two don't mind but I'm going to close up a bit early tonight. Harry, you don't look like you are in too bad a shape. Will you be able to get home? If not I have a room upstairs you can use."

Eliza smiled at Hannah, "I'll make sure he's well taken care of."

Hannah looked meaningfully at Harry as he was guided to the door by his newfound friend.

Harry could tell she was upset. As they reached the door he asked Eliza to meet him outside. Returning to the bar, he promised, "Don't look at me like that. I won't do anything stupid." Hannah nodded but still looked disappointed so Harry took her hand, "Thanks for caring Hannah. I felt really lonely when I Floo'd in here tonight but you reminded me that I'm never alone."

Before she could blink back the tears he was gone.


Harry woke the next morning to familiar ginger hair. It looked the same and it felt wonderful on his face but the smell was all wrong. The smell was sweeter and headier. It still made him feel good but it wasn't what he expected and it just wasn't the same. He looked down to find the same fair skin but the freckles were all wrong. Although Ginny's face only had a very light hint of the freckles that had marked her youth, her arms and shoulders were still freckled just like the day he met her. She hated the freckles on her face as a kid and he imagined she had gradually made those fade away through witchcraft but he always complimented the freckles on her arms and shoulders and she had left them there for him.

The witch nestled on his shoulder had very few freckles on her arms or shoulders. He imagined she also had wished hers away over time and that she never would have imagined that he would care for such a thing.

He began to gather his memories from the night before. There was a hazy memory of leaving the Cauldron with Eliza despite Hannah's misgivings. They walked to Eliza's flat which was above one of the more fashionable shops on Diagon Alley. He spent the rest of the evening at Eliza's pretending in the dark that this witch with him was indeed the woman he loved. Silently and only in his head the words were uttered, "Truly pathetic Harry. Truly pathetic."

She'd been a willing accomplice. This was no naïve young witch. She imitated every gesture of Ginny's she could think of. When he responded to a certain throw of the hair or kiss she stored it in her head to be used again. She had become quite adept at imitating his former love and she could make him forget she was Eliza until he looked carefully in her eyes or buried himself in her hair.

Yet, there was a line he wouldn't cross. At first she admired his discipline but soon she took it as a personal affront. Little did she know that the more she desperately tried to coax him into moving forward the more she played into the fantasy Harry had of her being Ginny. Harry had only planned to snog the night away but the young witch he was with was making herself mad trying to fulfil her own expectations.

It wasn't until just before they fell asleep that an exasperated Eliza finally broke down. The mask came off and she was shaking. She desperately whispered in his ear, "Why won't you? Is it because I'm not enough like her? What do I have to do? I'll do it."

"Why won't I what?" Harry asked. Her eyes told the whole story. Embarrassment overcame him,"Oh. Erm, it's not anything you've done or haven't done. And it's not what you think," he answered quietly. "Ginny," he said tentatively, "and I never did either. I never have with anyone."

Eliza was stunned. She'd never considered that Harry with his celebrity...at first she wasn't entirely sure he was telling the truth but her instincts told her he probably was. In fact, there was a certain awkwardness to him that shouted out this very fact. He interrupted her thoughts, "I'm sorry that I didn't say something sooner. I don't know when you tell someone such a thing but I plan to wait until I'm married."

Now the redhead was speechless. Normally she was the one fending off advances and keeping careful guard when she was out with a bloke. In this case she had been relegated to the offensive and she couldn't help but be frustrated that advance after advance had been turned away.

Harry looked worried, "You're not upset, are you?"

"No." Eliza swallowed hard, "I just never knew what it felt like to be the bloke. Now that I feel it from the other side it's awful. I honestly can say I've never wanted to be with someone so much in my life and this is the first time I've ever had anyone say no."

Harry didn't know how to reply. He pulled her to him and stroked her hair until she fell asleep. By the time he fell asleep he had determined that her hair smelled like cherry blossoms.

Now, it was morning and he returned to stroking her hair. He had the eye of an Auror and had been trained to see every detail. Aside from her freckles, or lack thereof, he noted that she kept her place tidy and that she was fond of sun in the mornings. Her father must have supplemented her income because she couldn't possibly have afforded her flat on an Auror's scale. The pieces of art on the walls seemed to be originals rather than prints and the furniture was made of finely carved high quality woods.

It didn't take long before she woke and her first act was to kiss him. Her bare shoulders made him shudder and for some reason her deep blue eyes attracted him in a way he had not anticipated. It was different than that surrogate feeling he got when he'd pretended she was Ginny. This morning she was Eliza and he felt drawn to her for reasons other than her similarity to anyone he knew.

"I need a shower," she breathed into his ear. You are welcome to lie in a bit if you'd like." With that she pulled herself out from under the covers and he quickly averted his eyes - it could have been her birthday. Once she left the room he thought back and tried to remember if she'd been that way at any point the night before. Much of the night was still hazy.

The more he thought about her the more he was intrigued. She was a good six years older and she didn't display the same modesty that he was used to. She had sauntered out of the room like she owned it and she had been proud of her figure. It made him feel rather like a prude and, in some way he couldn't explain, he felt inferior. He also felt, with every fibre of his being, that he wanted to walk into that shower and grab a hold of her and kiss her. He wanted to bring her back into her room and...and what?

Drops of water could be heard pitter-pattering from the shower like rain on a lazy morning and the steam escaped out the door in small puffs of smoke. Harry began to create a story in his head out of images he saw before averting his eyes and his memories from the night before. He closed his eyes and focused on the idea of her there in that shower. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the pitter-patter stop or the sound of footsteps.

"What I'd give to know what is going on in that mind..." The voice jarred him. Again he tried to avert his eyes but he couldn't help but steal a glance. Noting his shyness she had to ask, "You were telling the truth last night, weren't you?"

Reluctantly he nodded as he felt his face flush.

Her look was triumphant..it filled her with pride that he couldn't pry his eyes from her. Even better, she felt like she'd cleared a hurdle. She now knew he'd never seen Ginny like this. He was finally looking at her and not some memory of a girl he'd once loved. Excitedly she grabbed her robe. It was time to make breakfast.


Eliza sat in her cubicle writing the same three names over and over again:

Elizabeth MacGreggor Potter
Elizabeth MacGreggor Potter
Elizabeth MacGreggor Potter

for the first time in ages , she felt like that romantic young witch at Hogwarts. Her only worry was that she'd heard no He hadn't said anything to anyone.

Eliza looked up from her parchment to find Harry ambling toward the records room. She stuffed her self-imposed writing assignment in her desk drawer and followed him into the empty room. She decided just to come out with it, "Are you embarrassed about the other night?"

"No, why?" Harry looked confused.

"You haven't told your mates or anyone else. I thought it'd be all over the Ministry by now."

Harry laughed, "Oh. It was nothing personal. I'm normally a private person and I don;t share these sorts of things with anyone...including Ron. I'll tell anyone you want. Do you really want your father to read about us in the dailies? About what we are or aren't doing or what we've done? Soon after it makes its way around here it'll make its way into the Prophet."

She reconsidered. There was already a picture published in Witch Weekly of the two of them. It had been taken just outside the Cauldron the night they left for her place. She'd bundled up in her cloak before leaving to keep warm and the picture caught little of her face. The caption read, in bold, Harry Potter and Mystery Woman, followed by, Has Harry Moved On?

"Duly noted," she said in her most official tone. Then more flirty, "Will you drop in tonight? I have wine and I can conjure up some dinner."

Harry thought to himself. He'd considered all week whether it would be wise to see Liza again. On one hand he knew she was interested in him for all the wrong reasons. She was attracted to him because of who she thought he was. Then again, At first Ginny had been the same way.

He was interested in Liza for all the wrong reasons as well. Each time he'd decided it would be a bad idea he remembered her sauntering into the bath that morning and how she paraded before him after her shower. Her boldness was exciting. It didn't hurt that he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

He had to make a decision.

"I can't," he finally answered, "I'm scheduled to work late tonight. How about tomorrow?"


Hannah wiped the bar as a familiar young bloke sat down in front of her. He snapped his fingers to get her attention which caused her to bristle. The Cauldron was full and she had work to do. Coldly she asked, "What can I get for you?"

"The name of the lass with Mr. Potter a few nights back?" responded the bloke with a touch of Irish to his voice.

She wasn't surprised. She knew him. She continued to wipe the counter, "You know I can't do that. How about a Guinness?"

"Nay, tonight I just need information."

"Sean," Hannah looked up, "I can't give that to you. Why don't you ask Harry?"

Sean turned white, "He doesn't exactly fancy writers. Didn't you read what happened to that bloke at the Prophet?"

"The Prophet wasn't exactly kind to Harry, now was it?"

"Nay." Sean decided to use guilt, "I really need a story, Hannah. Everything I've written lately has been moved to the back pages and I'm getting pressure. Can't you help out a fellow Hufflepuff?"

Hannah softened, "What are you going to write about him? With that picture from the other night readers will put two and two together and come up with five."

"I promise to chat with her first. I won't write anything that she feels uncomfortable with."

She believed him. All the same she thought about Eliza and remembered how the witch had acted that night. Hannah's instincts told her that Eliza would be happy to share and might even make a few things up. Hannah couldn't risk Harry getting hurt. She felt sharing Eliza's identity would be a serious breach of the trust that Harry placed in her. "Sean, I just can't. There are several other things that happen here I don't mind sharing with you but I simply won't risk hurting Harry."

Sean wasn't surprised. He knew before she opened her mouth. He was disappointed but smiled sadly.

Even so, he couldn't walk away from this story. Reluctantly he played his last card, "It's ok, Hannah. Could I get that Guinness then? I might as well drink my sorrows away."

"Don't be like that," Hannah begged. His response to her were the same pair of puppy dog eyes that most of Sean's girlfriends received when his advances were rebuffed. She shook her head and decided she might as well draw his pint. As she turned to reach for the tap of Guinness, her memory of the night with Harry and Eliza shot through her mind unnaturally quickly. She felt feint and swayed as the memory sped before her. Sean called behind her and the flash stopped, "Are you all right, Hannah?"

She braced herself on the cabinet just beside the taps, "Whoa. Yes, I'm fine. Just a little light-headed." Still feeling queasy, she drew his pint and brought it to him, "Forgive me if I retire to the back for a few. I need to sit down."

Sean put his hand on Hannah's, "Aye, you take care of yourself, lass. You don't look well. I'm going to empty this pint and see if I can find any other leads on this mystery witch. Maybe if I skulk around the Ministry she'll turn up."

A/N: Please take the time to write a review. This is one of the chapters that I'm most interested in hearing about.