London
-----
"You cool down and stretch for a bit, Harry. I'd like to just run through a couple of forms." Harry nodded and pushed his glasses back up his nose. She watched him move to one corner of the dojo as she took the center of the floor. She was warm from running Harry through a couple of hours worth of kata and the same amount of sparring, but she felt the need to practice for herself for a bit.
With a breath, she centered herself and let go of her extraneous thoughts, launching into the first kata of her old family's school. She might not have the right to teach them, but she could still practice. The school's motto was, after all, "anything goes."
From the very first moment everything felt… right. Powerful. Fluid. In control and yet… Breath, move, inhale, extend, exhale, leap, inhale, pivot… She flowed through the forms, aware of her surroundings, aware of her body, and at the same time completely removed from her environment and herself. A corner of her mind registered Harry leaving the dojo.
She did not stop, but rather flowed from form to form, using motion as a form of mediation, examining each thought from her recent trip to China as it occurred, cataloging the thought, and releasing it in time with her breath. She could feel her ki suffusing her body, her limbs, surrounding her body. She could feel the grain of the wood as her feet slid across the floor, eddies of the air as her body moved through space. Time slowed as awareness merged with the environment. There was no distinction between form and motion.
A new sensation demanded attention. It started as a tingling, growing into a burning sensation, like a jolt of electricity coursing through her in opposition to her heartbeat. Her ki pulsed, expanded, stopped; the jolt came immediately after, her ki pulsed in response. She felt in command of her ki, but the opposing force pulsed wildly, unbridled, uncontrolled.
Her awareness recognized it as magic, yet this was the first time she had felt such a strong response while in practice. The sensation was heady and scary. Ranma was used to total control of herself, yet she knew that this wild fluctuation could not be controlled; only directed. The state continued for some time, until her ki and magic began to pulse in unison, disrupting her control of her ki, causing her concentration to shatter. She paused in mid punch, cocking her head as she contemplated what just happened. Ranma moved with conscious thought as she finished the last of the kata, struggling to regain her focus.
Ranma wiped her forehead on her gi and paused. It was rare that her concentration could just snap like that; in addition she was drenched in sweat and tired. It took a great deal of effort to get her this winded. Looking up at the clock on the wall, she realized that she had been practicing alone now for nearly four hours. This brought a frown to her face; everything was weird tonight – she had lost track of time as well. Ranma looked at her hands as she brought her breath under control and slowed her heart beat. The sensation of magic and ki together…
Her mind raced as she cooled down. She looked at her fists again. Not only had she completely lost track of her sense of time, for a brief moment, right before her concentration broke, she knew that if her ki and magic worked in unison, she could have accomplished anything she wanted. Anything. The only thing she could compare it to was a force of nature, like one of her signature moves, the Hiryushoten Ha, a move that created a tornado with hot and cold ki; opposing forces in harmony that nothing could stop.
Lost in thought, she cleaned up the dojo and stepped out, locking the door.
-----
Harry was watching TV in the living room she came in. She smiled at him without really acknowledging his presence, happy rather to retreat to her room for a bit, still thinking about what happened in the dojo.
Saffron's feather was resting on the desk where she had placed it after coming back from China. Ranma picked it up and stared. Magic and ki, together… Ranma placed the Saffron's feather gently on an old cushion and stripped out of her sweat-soaked gi, tossing the dirty clothing in a hamper in the corner. She donned a bathrobe and made her way to the bathroom. "Harry?"
"Yeah?" His voice was muffled by chattering of the television.
"I'm going to take a bath. Do you need to use the bathroom or anything?"
"No, all set."
"Thanks." With that, she went into the bath and closed the door. While the bath was filling, she undressed and looked at herself in the mirror, examining her body critically. Even with all the scars, Ranma looked good. She frowned. Who was she trying to kid? She looked fantastic. Maybe it was the magic of Jusenkyo, or maybe it was just good genetics, but her appearance did not reflect her age nor the amount of abuse she had been subject to over the course of her lifetime.
It was just one more aspect of the curse that she disliked – even if she went out and disfigured herself, she'd probably still end up looking gorgeous. She wasn't oblivious to the effect her looks had on men. She had often wondered if Jusenkyo had a twisted sense of humor. She had changed from a man amongst men to a man's wet dream. When she had been a teenager, she had used her charms to dupe men often enough.
Once she got stuck, however, she no longer had the easy out offered by a glass of warm water. Her behavior hand changed as well, going from the air headed, flirtatious bimbo to unapproachable ice queen. Nabiki would have been proud. It had been partly to cope with the new reality of her situation, and partly because, even though she was pretty confident she could prevent anyone from taking advantage of her, she didn't want to give anyone a reason to try. Idiots still did, though. There had never been any close calls, but each attempt had still frightened her, and she was angry with herself because she was afraid.
Her thoughts drifted to Harry. It was odd – even she knew that he was attracted to her, she didn't feel fear of him. She understood the power his attraction gave her over him and because of it vowed never to use it against him. At the same time she wasn't afraid to be his friend because of it. Ranma had never been the best with people, but she was a fantastic judge of character. Harry had many character strengths, but his two strongest traits were also his weaknesses; he was selfless and courageous.
So much so, Ranma wondered how he ever managed to do what he wanted, rather than what others wanted for him. She worried about that sometimes; she knew that part of the reason he wanted to learn her art was because he wanted to, but an equally strong part was because she wanted him to. Since he was courageous to the point of folly, he wouldn't back down from a challenge. Much like her, unfortunately.
When the bath was full she killed the water and stepped in, hissing with satisfaction as her skin prickled from the heat. She lowered herself into the tub and lay back, placing a wet washcloth over her eyes and relaxing, allowing the heat to lull her into sleep.
-----
She dreamed. They were incoherent images, filled with frenetic energy and change. Images exploded into streaks of color and reassembled themselves into patterns, which became agitated and angry before morphing into a billowing cloud of fog. The mists parted to reveal the landscape of Juskenkyo viewed from high above. The valley grew rapidly, as she realized she was falling, falling, faster, faster. She tried to change her direction and momentum but nothing worked. A single pool grew until it filled her entire vision.
Time slowed as the surface of the water transformed into an infinite plane, creating a wall that filled his vision, stretching to the horizons. He was a man, but the body reflected on the surface was that of the red-head he had become. He reached forward to touch the image. When his finger touched the surface, his whole body slammed into the water with the full force of his fall, shattering every bone in his body. He struggled to stand, to breath, but he was broken, underwater, and his body would not obey his commands.
His lungs burned as he swallowed the first mouthful of water. He couldn't stop. His vision became dim, the sun rippling on the surface of the water just inches above his head. The golden ball of light grew smaller and smaller as he sank deeper into the water. He tried to scream, to do anything, but he only managed to release the last precious remnants of the air in his lungs. He swallowed another mouthful of water, and the sunlight faded to blackness.
He would not die here. He could not die here. He would not allow it. He felt his body shift, responding to his will. Her foot touched the bottom. With a last desperate heave, she pushed down on the soft mud and shot towards the surface, breaking free, into the blessed light and the cool air. She gasped and flailed, throwing her arm to the bank and heaving her upper body onto the shore.
She vomited. Once, twice, continuously, pouring forth the contents of her lungs, then her stomach. Even after she emptied both organs, her mouth served as a conduit for all the waters in the world; soon the valley was flooded, cursed pools mixing and rising. Helpless, she remained on all fours because she could not stem the flow. It rose to her hands, her elbows, her shoulders. With an increased sense of panic she watched the waters until she was completely submerged.
The Jusenkyo Valley flooded, spreading forth over the lands. All was submerged. Tectonic plates shifted; volcanoes burst froth from under the seas. Continents arose, broke apart, and fell back into the ocean, only to arise again. Mountains broke forth from the lands, spewing forth ash and lava. The sunlight grew distant above as she sank deeper, deeper, pushed down by the weight of the water still gushing forth from her. The light was pushed away, back, until it was a tiny dot against an overwhelming black, further, further, till it too, vanished.
There was nothing but awareness, and in that awareness, a faint pulse could be felt. She felt her ki pulse, sending tendrils into the darkness. Magic flared in the distance in response to her ki, equal and opposite. Her ki searched for something, seeking a way out of the darkness, searching for a pathway to the magic pulsing in the distance.
The blackness spun, and she felt herself being drawn towards the pulse. Even though she couldn't sense the motion, she felt as if she was accelerating, like she had been fired from the barrel of a gun. The pulses came closer together as she moved faster, till it was a solid field she moved through. A small point of white light appeared far in the distance and grew, blinding her as she raced towards the light. When her eyes adjusted, she turned to stare into the darkness she had left. Blue iridescent lines spread from the opening, overlapping haphazardly.
She continued to speed away. The further she away she got, the more she could see – an iris, eyelids, a sharp nose, fine eyebrows, a smooth forehead. Dark skin. Red hair, blue eyes. Her self.
----
Ranma sat up in the bath, breathing heavily. The washcloth fell into the water with a plop. It was the same dream she always had when she fell asleep in the bathtub, but this was the first time she had ever gotten so far. She always woke up just before she broke the surface of the water in Jusenkyo.
She leaned back with a sigh. Even though taking a portkey was easier than flying, it was strangely tiring, especially over such a long distance. She sat up and grabbed the washcloth and wrung it out, intending to take another nap, but stopped.
Something was wrong. Her skin tingled. She looked around the bathroom, trying to understand what it was that felt so out of place. The door was closed, nothing had changed, and she couldn't sense anyone near by. With a sigh, she sank back in the water again, not able to shake the feeling.
With a shrug, she dipped the wash cloth into the water once again to warm it up. She squeezed the excess water out, placing the warm cloth against her forehead and released a contented sigh. What ever it was, she'd figure it out eventually. The heat felt too good to let it bother her right now.
She ripped the cloth off her forehead and stared at it. She could practically see the ki and magic saturating the water dripping off the cloth and running down her arm.
The bath was warm.
-------
Harry ran his hands through his hair in frustration and knocked on the bathroom door again. "Ranma, are you alright?" There was no answer, but he could still hear the faint sounds of sobbing within. He had heard her wailing from the living room over twenty minutes ago. From the sounds of things, she seemed to be calming down, but Harry had no clue what could have set her off. He'd been trying to get her to talk to him through the door, but he'd had no luck so far.
"If you don't answer me in ten seconds, I'm going to come in there, okay?" He started counting. "One…" He got to nine before he heard Ranma's voice telling him to go away. "I'm not going away until you tell me what's wrong." He didn't get a response, nor did he expect one. At least she wasn't sobbing anymore.
"I'm coming in." He pulled out his wand and unlocked the door, then conjured a bath robe and a towel. He opened the door slowly to give Ranma ample warning. Steam poured out through the crack of the door, fogging his glasses instantly.
Ranma was sitting in the tub with her knees pulled into her chest, hugging her legs and resting her cheek against her thighs. Even through the steam he could see that her eyes were blood shot. He stopped for a second, stunned by the vulnerability on display. He swallowed and cleared his throat. Ranma's eyes meet his briefly. She sniffled once and turned her head to look away from Harry.
He walked up slowly to the edge of the tub and sat down. "You alright?" he asked, draping the towel over her exposed back.
She didn't turn to face him, but she did pull the towel closer around her. "I will be."
"Want to talk about it?"
She sniffled and used one hand to wipe her eyes with the towel. "Not really."
Harry tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. "Can I do anything to help?
Ranma shrugged. "No. For now, at least."
"Alright." Harry stood. "I'm going to go make a pot of tea. You want some?"
Ranma nodded, still not bothering to face Harry.
Harry hung up the bathroom on one of the hooks. He left the bathroom and headed towards the kitchen, catching the sound of cascading water as Ranma stood up in the bath. Harry busied himself with putting the kettle on the burner and arranging some leftover scones on a plate. By the time the water had stated to boil, the soft rustle of terrycloth announced Ranma's arrival in the kitchen. She pulled a stool up to the counter and leaned on her elbows, watching Harry pull the tea kettle off the range.
Harry carefully measured out some loose-leaf tea and dumped it in the water before placing the plate of snacks on the counter. He turned and reached into the cabinet behind him and grabbed two mugs placing one in front of Ranma before coming around the counter and pulling up a stool of his own.
"Tea?"
Ranma nodded her head.
"Right." Harry picked up the kettle poured a cup of tea for both of them. He didn't bother with a strainer as he simply banished the leaves from their mugs into the sink. Harry watched Ranma out of the corner of his eye as he cradled his mug in both hands, leaning on the counter.
Ranma grasped her own mug in both hands, staring into her tea. Though she had stopped crying, her eyes were still red. She didn't drink her tea, content rather to simply stare at it and reflect. He put down his tea and reached for a scone. Realizing he forgot to set out plates, he conjured up a small saucer. He broke the scone apart and put half on his plate. "Want half?"
Ranma cracked a ghost of a smile. She shrugged. "Sure."
Harry conjured up a plate for her as well and gave her the larger half. She always ate more than he did, anyway. He busied himself with breaking his scone into small bites, spreading some jam on each one and eating with deliberate slowness to give Ranma time to collect herself. He completely finished his half and was ready to reach for another one before Ranma spoke up.
"When your wife died… How did you deal with it?" She didn't look at him when she asked, glancing out the window instead.
Harry put his tea down and conjured up a stool. "Why do you ask?"
Ranma looked at him under heavily-lidded eyes.
Harry looked at her and sank onto it with a sigh, taking off his glasses and folding them up to place them in his shirt pocket. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand and took a deep breath, letting it out with a rush. "I didn't, really."
Ranma broke off a bit of her pastry and took a bite. "What do you mean?" They made eye contact. Harry could see that she was closer to her normal self, a bit calmer, a bit more in control.
Harry laced his fingers together and rested his chin on his knuckles. He looked away, through the same window she had been staring at earlier. "It's a long story."
"I've got time." She took a sip of her tea.
Harry glanced at her. "Sure. But will you tell me what made you so upset first?"
Ranma looked away through the window. "Pretty view up here."
"Yeah, I've always liked it. It's why I bought the place to begin with."
They sat in silence for a bit, tea ignored, staring out the window. Ranma finished off her half of the scone, picking up the last bite in her fingers. "I took a bath. I fell asleep. When I woke up, the water was warm." She popped the remnants in her mouth, chewing resolutely.
Harry blinked and glanced over at her. Not knowing what response she wanted, he stayed mute.
Ranma stuck her finger in her tea, a trace of her earlier sadness in her eyes. When she pulled her finger out of the tea, a chunk of ice had frozen around her finger. She flicked the ice cube to the sink. "This happens whenever I'm around hot water. My ki freezes things…" She shrugged. "I like falling asleep in baths. I never wake up in warm water."
Harry suddenly understood. "You should have changed."
Ranma nodded. "But I didn't."
"Which means?"
"That I'm not sure if I can change back anymore." Her lip quivered a bit as she said this. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and took a few calming breaths. She opened her eyes and gave a wry smile. "If you didn't notice, I'm pretty upset, but I've had to sixteen years to prepare for it." Ranma paused to take a sip of her tea. "I guess I haven't exorcised all my ghosts yet." She shrugged. "Which is why I asked - how did you deal with your wife's death?"
Harry sucked his teeth. "I didn't, at first." He explained, "It was so unexpected, you see… We were deliriously happy, young newlyweds, and with our first child on the way." Harry frowned and looked into his tea. "We were traveling. It was stupid, but she…" He stopped. "It was my fault, really. I got careless, because I thought with Voldemort's death things would be easy for us. There hadn't been a serious attack on me or Ginny in years."
"Ginny? Like your owl?"
Harry smiled softly. "Yeah… Cheli named the owl that. Her name was Ginny. Ginerva, actually, but her whole family called her Ginny." Harry trailed off, his eyes losing focus as he stared into his tea.
"How did the two of you meet?"
"Hmm?" Harry looked up. "Oh, on the train platform to go to Hogwarts. I didn't know how to access the hidden platform, and I overheard her family talking about it. You remember Ron, right? Well, he was one of my best friends in school. I guess he still is one of my best friends, but we've grown apart a bit over the years because we travel so much, and…"
"What does Ron have to do with her?" Ranma interrupted.
"Oh, sorry." Harry gave a little laugh. "She was his youngest sister, so we knew each other for a long time. She had a crush on me since she was about eleven, and then when I was sixteen… She just laid one on me. Snogged me so thoroughly that there was never really any question about it after that, really. At first I didn't want to have a relationship because of the whole Voldemort deal, but she had her mind set and wouldn't let me go. During that fight at Hogwarts, she was so fierce, determined to take part regardless of what the 'adults' told her. There was this time when…"
Ranma had calmed considerably listening to Harry recounted his memories of his late wife. He talked about her exploits with Riddle's diary and the Chamber of Secrets and their time together at school. Ranma's tea grew cold well before Harry wound down. Harry described her propensity to gags and mischief, as well as her protectiveness of family. Ranma could see that the pain was still present as she watched Harry describe her, even after all the years. But the pain was distant, a tender scar, but yet, at the same time, she took some measure of comfort in it, because she could understand herself. Something… released as Ranma sat listening.
"She sounded very lovely." Ranma paused, unsure if to press on. "How did she… pass?"
Ranma watched as Harry's face fell. "I'm sorry."
"No, don't be." He gently sloshed his cold tea back and forth, looking Ranma in the eyes. "We were attacked by some pure-blood fanatics that had managed to escape the roundup after Voldemort's death. She took a curse meant for me. It didn't kill her outright, but it did cause her to go into premature labor and started hemorrhaging badly. Between her wound and the bleeding… I… I was never very good at healing spells…" He closed his eyes for a second. "By the time we got to the medics, she had lost too much blood. They couldn't save her, but they did save the baby."
"Cheli?"
Harry nodded. "Achelios." He cleared his throat, fighting down his emotions. "Burying Ginny… was… the single hardest thing I've ever done in my life."
"I know." Ranma paused. "It's funny, isn't it? Even when you don't think it will, life just… continues. You cope, I guess."
"I don't think I ever… learned to cope. If I was feeling overwhelmed…" He put his wand up to his head and pulled a thin strand of memories from his temple, flicking the wand to allow the memories to float into the air and dissipate like smoke. "I had thought that with Voldemort dead my troubles were over. We got married, and I wasn't ready to handle the grief. So, I just… ignored it. Put it away, sealed off my memories, and I threw myself into my work and raising my daughter."
"That doesn't sound healthy."
"It wasn't. It isn't." Harry sighed. "But I had a newborn infant to look after and a career that means something… we all have to make choices. Rather than let it destroy me, I decided to stay busy until I could manage."
"How long did it take you 'to manage'?"
Harry frowned. "It was years before I could even look at my daughter and not cry. I wasn't the best father early on. I had good friends who tried to help, but if you don't want to be helped it doesn't matter."
Ranma nodded. "Is it still painful?"
Harry raised his mug in a mock toast. "You tell me."
Ranma lifted her mug in acknowledgement. She asked, "Can you make me another portkey to China? I… need to talk to Ku Lon. She might have some insights for me."
Harry nodded. "Sure. When do you want to leave?"
"As soon as you can get the portkey ready." Ranma took a sip of tea.
"Got it. Good thing I didn't unpack, then."
"Actually," Ranma paused a second. "I… I want to go alone."
Harry shrugged and nodded.
"How long do you want to be gone?" He lifted his scone to take a bite.
"Can you… make it open ended?"
The request caught Harry by surprise. "Yeah, I can do that." He frowned and looked down to his plate. "Any idea how long you'll be there?"
Ranma shrugged. "I don't know." She sighed. "I've got a few things I need to work out, and then…"
"And then?"
"I'll come back."
"How long do you think it will take?"
She shrugged.
"Right." He paused. "What are you going to do about training while you're away?"
"Ahh… right." Ranma pursed her lips. "Hadn't thought about that. I'm sure we'll figure something out."
-----
Harry handed Ranma the portkey. It was a small thing, and Harry chose it mostly for stupid and sentimental reasons. It was a thin silver chain with a tiny, old fashioned silver key hanging from it. Harry realized it was the first real gift he ever gave to Ranma. He handed it over without ceremony. "It's the key to the apartment. Just enlarge it until it fits in the lock."
"Thanks." Ranma nodded.
"The activation phrase is Fawkes." Harry nodded. "Come back whenever."
Ranma nodded and shouldered her pack. She reached behind her to open the front door of the apartment. She stepped out into the hall and caught the closing door with her left hand. "You'd better not slack off on the exercises I gave you or I'll kick your ass when I get back, okay?"
"I'll hold you to that, then." Harry smiled.
"Fawkes." Ranma disappeared with a pop. Harry doubted that Ranma seen, or if she did, she was kind enough not to say anything. In the last instant before she vanished, his smile had slipped.
For the first time in over half a year, he was completely alone. Having been unexpectedly happy and busy, Harry had forgotten how awful that feeling was.
----
Ranma lay on her back on the tile roof of Ku Lon's house, resting her head on the palm of her left hand, absentmindedly twirling Saffron's feather between her right thumb and forefinger. She stared through the feather and into the night sky. As the sun fell, she had discovered that the feather gave off a faint glow when charged with ki. She had been playing with it for hours, watching the glowing red tip of the feather as it left the faintest afterimage against the sky. Just holding it would give off enough light to obscure the Milky Way and faint stars, but most of the constellations were still visible.
There had been a few constants in Ranma's life. She could tick them off with the fingers of one hand; they were conflict, confusion, chaos, and constellations. The stars were the only constant in her life that hadn't caused her any problems. She appended a silent "yet" to that thought and added a mental sigh. With her luck, it would only be a matter of time.
The conflict had come early and often, and confusion was part and parcel. Chaos defined her life, and nothing would change that. She had accepted that, and even if she couldn't control it, she could at least manage it. She looked up at the sky picking out a few of her favorite constellations.
As a child she had been fascinated by the stars. Her father was all too happy to oblige that fascination by kicking Ranma out of tent and making him sleep in the rough no matter how inclement the weather. Genma had called "survival training," but Ranma realized much later it was one of the many tactics her father had used squash Ranma's curiosity and make him completely dependent on the lazy bastard's guidance. Genma decided early on that astronomy wasn't important (i.e., it didn't make Ranma a better fighter), so the asshole made sure that Ranma learned to stop asking questions early on.
But being alone under the stars as a child made her associate the night sky with quiet reflection, something Genma would have ruthlessly quashed had he known.
She always did her best thinking under the night sky. Not that she had ever been accused of thinking, but on occasion… She spun the feather again and waited for the afterimage to fade from her sight. Saffron had changed. Gone was the little brat who had turned into a wrathful godling. Instead Ranma had found a… a… She twirled the feather again, not able or willing to complete the train of thought. She had been fully prepared to go back to the mountain to finish the job she had started sixteen years ago. Now that she didn't have too…
She frowned. After Akane's death, Ranma had believed that resolving her commitments to her friends and family would give her direction. Those plans had been derailed her by her idiotic father and psychotic mother. Near death, bereft of honor and left without a clan, Ranma had been unable to satisfy any of the demands placed upon her. With no family and no school, she had been directionless, and thanks to Genma, the only thing she knew was martial arts.
The feather spun again in her hand, a red ring of light glowing softly against the sky. Saffron changed. So had she. Ranma was no longer that sixteen year old boy holding his dying fiancée. The art was all she had known for so long, the only thing she could focus on. She had no purpose but to wander and learn, looking for something that she might make her own.
The art had kept her going. But at the same time, it had kept her trapped in the past, reminded of the past with every kata, every opponent, every breath. When did her father's dream become hers? Revenge had never been a good reason to get better at the art, but at least it gave her some sort of purpose.
Saffron had shown her that revenge was unnecessary. What was she trying to accomplish now? She twirled the feather and peered up at sky, lost in her thoughts.
----
Dinner was quiet as it was just Ranma and Ku Lon. Mu Tsu and Xian Pu were at his parent's house for dinner. Ku Lon was patient and content to sip her tea and smoke at the head of the table, waiting for Ranma to speak. She was old and patient. She'd been around long enough to know a troubled woman, and eventually all troubled women would open up with enough time.
Ranma herself was lost in thought, staring at the feather in her left hand as she picked at her food.
Ku Lon took a long drag on her pipe and blew a few smoke rings into the air. Judging by the look on Ranma's face, she seemed to be thinking in circles, which meant it was an opportune time to jar her out of an unproductive thought process. "What's bothering you, Ranma?"
"Mmnn?" Ranma peered up from her meal.
"You must be troubled to seek my council."
"What makes you think that?"
Ku Lon gave her a half-lidded glare and pointed at her barely touched meal. "I haven't had to defend my meal from you once tonight. You also journeyed half-way across the world to land sobbing at my door."
Ranma waved the feather she was holding in her left hand. "I'm just…" She shrugged. "I'm feeling a little lost, I think."
"Oh?" Ku Lon took another drag on her pipe. "Explain."
Ranma took a deep breath. "I took a bath." She looked at the feather in her hands. "I feel asleep, like normal, but… When I woke up, the water was… still hot."
"Ah." Ku Lon took a long drag on her pipe. "I see. How did you react?"
Ranma huffed. "How do you think?"
"I imagine you were quite upset."
"I was bawling like a little girl. Harry had to break into the bathroom to make me get out of the tub."
Ku Lon hid her amusement behind another drag on her pipe. At least Ranma wasn't moping anymore. It was a start, at least. "Why were you so upset?"
Ranma glared at the old woman. "You know why I'd be upset."
Ku Lon nodded. "Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. I think it would be helpful for you to talk about it."
Ranma closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She let it out in a slow, controlled exhale before opening her eyes. "What it means is that I'm not stuck as a woman because of some issue with my ki. If that were the case, I would have transformed when I woke up."
"Why?"
"Ranma grabbed her breasts and pushed them together. "It means I'm stuck this way for life, or Jusenkyo's playing a dirty trick on me."
Ku Lon nodded. "I favor the latter, of course."
Ranma nodded. "Yeah, me too." She paused, cocking her head to the side. "It could be a combination of both, though. Who knows?"
A comfortable silence settled over the table as Ranma suddenly took interest in the food around her. She placed the feather on the table and started to eat with some of her normal gusto, picking apart the dishes with her chopsticks.
Ku Lon watched her eat and pointed at the feather on the table. "What does that have to do with this?"
Ranma swallowed a mouthful of food and placed her rice bowl on the table and rested her chopsticks on the rim. She pushed back from the table and crossed her legs lotus style in the chair. "It's a personal gift from Saffron."
"Ah." Ku Lon watched Ranma picked up her tea cup and stare at the feather in silence.
Ranma's brow was furrowed as she concentrated on the object. Finally, she said, "Saffron… Changed, Ku Lon. I feel like… today, I realized how much I've changed, too. I don't know when it happened, but I'm so far from what made me Ranma Saotome that now… I don't know. I'm very different now, and I just realized it. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that yet."
"Is that bad?" Ku Lon gestured with her pipe. "The old you was a brash, thoughtless, arrogant little shit that hurt everyone because your ability to make a decision was crippled by that pig of a man that happened to donate half of your genetic material. Your mother wasn't much better. Had they not given birth to you, they would have absolutely no redeeming qualities. Would you honestly want to go back to that?"
"No… but…" Ranma twirled the feather. "I don't think I could ever be Ranma Saotome again, but I don't know who I'll end up as, either."
"Does it matter?"
She shrugged. "I guess not. I just need some goal to aim for."
Ku Lon raised an eyebrow. "Being the best martial artist isn't enough anymore?"
Ranma smirked. "I already am." Ku Lon shot her a dark look, at which Ranma held up her hands in a warding gesture as she giggled. Then she looked horrified at what she had done. "I just giggled, didn't I?"
Ku Lon smiled and winked in response.
Ranma sighed. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. I don't know when it happened, but…"
"It's healthy, Ranma. You seem happier now than I've ever seen you."
Ranma cocked her head, thinking. "I guess… I guess I am. Funny, isn't it?"
"If anyone deserves happiness, it's you." Ku Lon took a sip of tea.
"Thanks, I guess." Ranma let it go, not sure if she should be insulted or flattered. "I… am… happy." She gave Ku Lon a genuine smile. "The funny thing is - I'm happy because I've found a friend. Harry showed me magic, and I feel… " She took a deep breath, letting it go. "I feel alive again."
Ku Lon nodded. "It shows. You seem more balanced than I've ever seen. Your ki seems to be neutral."
Ranma nodded. "I think that I've come to understand more about myself through magic. Working with magic has helped me in terms of ki control, and Harry's shown me a world of possibility. Being the best at martial arts was always my father's dream for me, anyway. I kept going because I didn't know what else to do."
"So what do you want to do, then?"
"I don't know. I think I'm starting to understand, but..." Ranma shrugged. "I guess I've just been holding on to the past for so long…" Ranma drained her tea cup and set it back on the table.
"That you lost sight of the present?"
"Maybe… Yeah."
Ku Lon reached across with the tea pot and refilled Ranma's cup. That killed the pot however, so Ku Lon refilled the pot with boiling water from the kettle on the hearth and closed the lid, allowing the tea to steep.
Ku Lon smiled. "How is Mr. Potter, by the way? I bet he's lonely without you around."
Ranma's eyebrow twitched. "I'm sure he's fine."
"Oh? You seem quite confident about that. Does this mean I should encourage Mr. Potter to continue his pursuit of you?"
"You don't have to encourage anything." Ranma cracked a wan smile. "He's been pretty good about trying to keep things 'friendly,' though."
"But you haven't ruled it out completely."
She frowned sputtered out indignantly, "I'm a guy, goddamit."
Ku Lon snorted. "You could have fooled me."
Ranma was about to protest, but instead, chose to sigh. She mumbled, "I guess I'm not anymore, huh?"
Ku Lon shook her head. Ranma did the hardest thing she could remember; she nodded in agreement, clenching her hands into fists and bringing them to eye level. "Ku Lon… I'm scared. I can't fight this with my fists." Her voice cracked with the final word.
To her credit, the Amazon Elder didn't mock her. Instead, she offered a reassuring smile and waited for Ranma to continue.
Ranma paused to collect herself. When she felt composed, she said, "I've never had to think like this before. It's scary." Ranma snorted. "I mean, yeah, I've thought about it before, but I've never actually had to do more than ruthlessly squash those thoughts and tell myself it would never happen."
Ku Lon blew a smoke ring into the air. "But now you have to entertain that possibility, don't you?"
Ranma nodded, her confidence diminished. "I'm just not sure I can. How do you change thirty-two years of habit?"
"Is that why you came here?"
"I'm tired of going through life with some sort of empty mission. I'm ready to… to be…" She shrugged. "I dunno. If not happy, I'll settle for at peace."
"How do you intend to do that?" Ku Lon asked.
"I don't know. But… I want to have kids eventually, and if I'm stuck this way…" Ranma grimaced and shook her head.
Ku Lon nodded. "You can't wait too long, and you aren't getting younger."
"Yeah." Ranma gave a shuddering sigh. "It creeps me out. I have a long way to go before I could ever be comfortable with that, Ku Lon."
"But the fact that you're even willing to admit it shows that you are getting closer."
"That's the scariest part. You should know that if I'm willing to even think about it..." Ranma paused. "I figured if anyone can help me, you'd be able to."
Ku Lon hid her smile in her cup of tea. "I have a few tricks that could speed up the process."
"Yeah," Ranma rolled her eyes, "no thanks. I'd be pretty pissed when the effects wore off."
"Why didn't you go to Harry for help, then?"
"Harry's… He's… a fantastic person, but he's also not necessarily neutral territory. I need to deal with this on my own. I want to know that whatever decision I arrive at, I want to arrive at because I want to, not because I was forced. I know you're manipulative, but… strangely enough, I trust you. You've been the only person in my life who was honest about what you wanted from me."
"I'm flattered." Ku Lon raised her cup in a mock toast. "If you change your mind, I'm sure Harry would be more than willing to help."
"I'm sure he would." Ranma snorted and leaned back in her chair. "It's kind of appropriate, don't you think?"
"What's that?"
Ranma shrugged. "Just my life in general. Most people go to their parents or friends for this kind of advice. I'm forced to turn to an old hag that would be just as happy marrying me off to half her tribe as help me out."
Ku Lon whipped her cane out and attempted to whack Ranma on the head. Ranma caught the cane with a smirk, but Ku Lon wasn't finished. In a flash she pushed the cane forward and caught Ranma right between the eyes, sending her toppling over backwards to the ground.
Ranma stood up, rubbing her forehead and muttering about "stupid old hags."
"Impertinent whelp." Ku Lon looked at the tea and decided it had steeped long enough. She held up the tea pot. "More tea?"
"Sure." Ranma sat back down at the table, rubbing idly at the growing lump on her forehead.
Ku Lon smiled as she refilled the pot with water and set it back on the hearth. "I won't even put aphrodisiacs in this pot!"
"Ku Lon!"
"What?" The old woman feigned surprise. "Those are birthing hips if I've ever seen them."
Ranma glared at her darkly. "I came for help, not a stand up routine."
Ku Lon nodded. "I've got a few ideas. How long can you stay?"
"As long as I need to."
"Good." Ku Lon placed her staff down and hopped onto the handle, perched like a bird. "If you would indulge me in a spar, I want to see how balanced your ki has become."
-----
Harry sat down at his desk in the office at the Ministry, unsure as to why he was even here. Notes floated overhead, vying for his attention. He grabbed the nearest one and opened it mechanically, reading it three times and not registering what it said.
"Hey, welcome back Harry! How was China?"
He looked up from his note, glad for the distraction. Tonks had popped her head into his office. "Hi Tonks."
"I wanted to be the first one to…" She stopped as she took in his appearance. "Jesus, Harry. You look awful. What happened while you were gone?" She stepped into his office and closed the door, conjuring up a chair for herself as she sat next to his desk.
He shrugged. "I'm still figuring it out."
"Want to tell me about it?"
He did. He told Tonks about the trip to China, and the aftermath of what he now called "the bath episode." For some reason, he didn't feel it right to bring up truth of Ranma's curse. He wrapped up his story, saying, "… she had a cup of tea, and just left."
Tonks patted him on the back awkwardly. "How long has she been gone?"
"That's the funny part," he said flatly. "It's only been three days."
Tonks tried to stifle a laugh. "Damn. I mean, I'm sorry."
Harry gave her a long suffering look and rolled his eyes. "I know, I'm pathetic."
Tonks patted him on the shoulder. "It's okay. I'm actually happy for you. I haven't seen you this goo-goo eyed over a girl since… well, ever, really."
"It doesn't matter. I'm in the 'friend' zone, you know."
"Ouch." Tonks winced. "Really?"
"Yeah."
"Have you heard from her at all?"
Harry shook his head.
Tonks got up and gave him a hug. "Look… try not to let this get you too down, okay? Like you said, it's not like she was your girlfriend or anything."
Harry laughed without mirth. "Right, Tonks. That doesn't mean I still can't miss her."
"Oh Harry…" Tonks released her hug. "Do you want to go out to dinner with us this evening? Maybe a change of scenery will do you good."
Harry begged off. "I'll pass tonight. Thanks for the offer, though."
"Alright." Tonks turned to go. "How about next week?"
"We'll see."
Tonks nodded sadly gave his shoulder a last squeeze. "It will work out alright, Harry."
Harry reached up and gave her hand a quick squeeze. "I know. Give Remus my best, okay?"
"Got it."
Harry watched Tonks go before turning back to his work. He read the note again and tried to concentrate, but couldn't. He was angry at himself for allowing this to affect him so much, angry at Ranma because she didn't realize how much this was affecting him, and just generally not in the frame of mind necessary to deal with reports of bogarts in Ministry cabinets.
He tossed the note out and looked for something else. He unfolded the paper airplane and read about possible inferni in Scotland. Harry seriously doubted that anyone was stupid enough to animate the dead so soon after Voldemort. He balled up the paper and threw it in the waste basket and was about to grab the next note when he stopped.
Animated dead?
He summoned the crumpled paper out of the waste basket and smoothed it out on his desk. He read the note carefully, able to discount that they were actual inferni, but a plan formed in the back of his mind. Harry pulled out a piece of parchment and started making some notes. First, he needed to talk to Dumbledore.
-------
"Harry Potter! What a pleasure! Please, come in, come in!" The rest of Harry's body shot out of the floe. He hated those things. Why couldn't all magical transportation be as comfortable as a broom? He shook his head and waved away Headmaster McGonagall offered hand as he pulled himself from the floor.
Standing up, he shook the ashes out of his clothes and looked around the Headmaster's office. Not much had changed since she had taken office, except many of the gadgets that Dumbledore had kept in his office had been moved down to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classrooms. She had added a few personal touches, starting with a collection of Wizarding chess pieces that move of their own accord. It was a fine but easy to overlook touches of transfiguration, like most of her best work, it was severe and understated. The office wasn't cold; it just didn't lend itself well to fireside chats and hot chocolate. It reflected McGonagall's personality well: it was a place of business. .
"Harry!" McGonagall stepped forward and gave him a hug. He returned it with pleasure, lifting the old witch with his hug and setting her down gently. She laughed at his enthusiasm and patted him on the shoulders, her joy at seeing him obvious.
Harry smiled. He had turned down the job when it had been offered to him because she had been doing such a good job, and he was too fresh from his loss to contemplate working in a place with so many memories of Ginny. McGonnall offered some tea, which he accepted gratefully. He waited until they had dispensed with the pleasantries before launching into the reason why he came.
McGonagall was accommodating, of course. He knew she would be. Still, he felt bad that he couldn't tell her why he needed to talk to Dumbledore's portrait. When he finished, they chatted for a bit until it was time to go. He had a lot to accomplish tonight.
----
Harry gave his inventory a second thorough check and donned his invisibility cloak. He stepped out the front door of his apartment and turned, popping out of existence and into Hogsmead. Even though he was invisible, he quickly ducked into the shadows to see if anyone noticed the sound of his apparition. Convinced that he had arrived undetected, he glanced up at the moon. It was three quarters full, which would give him enough light to see by while protecting him from the worst of the full-moon creatures that might roam at his next destination.
He left the village as quickly as he was able, sticking to the back streets to avoid late night wanderers and down towards the lake. The walk went quickly, and soon Hogwarts was rising majestically above him on the rise. He turned away from the castle, though, and instead headed towards the groundskeeper's hunt. Hagrid was still there, but Harry wasn't here to visit him tonight.
He pulled out a compass and a piece of parchment and checked his bearings, using the gate of the castle as a reference point before turning and heading into the Forbidden Forest. He gathered the cloak tight around him and readied his wand. The trees almost entirely blocked out the light of the moon and pressed inwards, deepening the gloom. He moved slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light and treacherous footing, but also because he took care to avoid making unnecessary sound.
Coming alone to the Forbidden Forest was usually a bad idea on any night, and he wanted to get in and out with as little danger as possible. Just because he had the invisibility cloak on didn't mean there weren't things out here that couldn't hurt him. The acrumantulas sprang to mind rather quickly. Since the death of Aragog in his sixth year at Hogwarts, they had been much more… aggressive.
Harry glanced down at the parchment in his hand and checked his bearings compulsively. He had become so reliant on his wand to show him directions he'd forgotten how to find his way around in unfamiliar terrain. It helped that he had spent the last couple days in the pensieve, reliving his memories from the night that Voldemort fell. He had compulsively taken notes and practiced the route he needed to take.
He glanced down at the parchment again, checked his bearings, and changed course slightly. He kept his senses alert as he made his way towards his destination. The underbrush and the low branches of the trees made the journey torturously slow; the gnarled and twisted roots underfoot clutched at his feet, slowing him further. He wasn't using any source of light, relying rather on stealth.
Soon he came to the place where long ago he had followed Yaxley had Dolohov had led him to the clearing where Aragog had once resided. From here, Harry slowed again, taking extra care to observe the forest around him. Even though the Death Eaters had driven off Aragog's spawn all those years ago, they were certain to have come back.
The foliage overhead became even thicker as he moved deeper into the forest. The amount of ambient light was halved, barely providing enough light for him to cautiously pick his way through the forest. He checked his bearings every few steps, keeping low to avoid brushing against the branches. He was more worried than relieved when he didn't see any signs of acromantula webs. What he saw through a break in the trees confirmed his suspicions.
The clearing had gotten bigger since he had last visit, and the cause was visible in the large bonfire that burned in the middle, casting shadows deep into the forest. He cursed under his breath. "Giants. Fuck." Sinking to his knees, he crawled to base of a tree near the clearing. In the light, he saw four large mountains of flesh sleeping in the moonlight.
One of the mountains snorted and rolled over to scratch its nose, letting its arm fall to the ground with a thud. Harry winced and very nearly decided to abandon his plan that moment, but when the beast didn't wake he took a calming breath. He waited for a few minutes, taking stock of the situation, scanning the area for any giants that might be awake.
According to his directions, he dropped the Resurrection Stone before stepping into the clearing last time. His first problem was that the clearing had grown in size. The giants had ripped up trees for firewood, meaning the stone was probably no longer where he remembered dropping it. A silent summoning charm confirmed that he couldn't summon the stone to him, so he'd have to locate it physically.
Locating the stone was the whole reason for his conversation with Dumbledore earlier that afternoon. They had talked about magical (and other) methods of locating the Stone. Using the spells Dumbledore had taught him, Harry sat there for the better part of the night trying to detect some sort of magical resonance but failed. He tried everything else he could think of as well, including from magical detectors and a good bit of wishful thinking. Finally, he gave up as the sun was rising, not wanting to risk giants in the daylight.
He carefully checked to make sure his invisibility cloak was on correctly and silently waked out of the forest. He decided to go straight to work instead of going home. Maybe some of the Untouchables might be able to help him out. He'd just have to be careful not to tell them what he was looking for. After all, he didn't want anyone else to know exactly where the Resurrection Stone was. If he didn't find it now, he'd find it eventually. It was just a matter of time.
----
My computer died. See my profile for the update. I really, really lost the motivation to continue work on this story, but recently got back to work on it. Unfortunately, I lost most of the work I had done and the notes and outlines I made for the story. I was upset of course, but recently an amazing thing happened. My wife knew I liked to write, but never had read my fiction. She read the story recently, and loved it - which has gotten me fired up again and ready to write. Although writing for this story is still relatively painful, I'm now confident I'll be able to wrap it up in a couple of months and end the suspense. Thanks for all the reviews, more appreciated. I particularly like constructive criticism.
Muishiki
