Chapter Ten

Snape pulled the hat down over his eyes and watched the street. The little village was busy with activity. People were excited. News traveled fast that the Gypsies were coming to town. Besides being very mysterious people who kept to themselves they were marvelous entertainers and it was a treat to have them tour the countryside and put on shows.

So far everything had gone according to plan, Snape decided. He had stayed in the local inn for a week receiving news from his sources. The Dark Lord had believed him when he sent the message that told Voldemort that he had spotted Potter and was watching him.

Now, all Snape needed to know was how Harry was going to deal with the evil wizard. Voldemort would want to come himself, he knew that for a fact. He would not leave it up to anyone else this time. The boy had embarrassed the dark wizard by escaping his clutches too many times. Snape shuddered even in the heat of the day. "Foolish, foolish, boy!" he murmured. Not even Dumbledore will be able to save him, he thought.

He moved down the street smiling and nodding. People saw his clothes, not his eyes, which were penetrating, searching and calculating. Whatever else he was, he was a good spy. "Yes. The Vardo Carnival is coming! Tonight! Yes, it is wonderful!" he said as he handed out announcements and stopped to tack one to a post. He knew that it was a wasted effort. Everyone knew the gypsies were coming, word of mouth traveled fast. however it was a ruse; to observe.

Snape saw Arthur Weasley and his family of red-headed children in tow in the late afternoon. He made his way across the street.

"Alright, Molly," Weasley said, "I'll go in and sign for the rooms. It's so hot, why don't we meet down the street for some cool drinks. I won't be but a minute."

"Alright, Arthur." The chubby short woman rounded up her children who had outgrown her and towered over her and hustled them down the street.

"I say ol' Chap," Snape said as he bumped into Weasley, "got a sickle or two?"

"What? " Weasley exclaimed, suddenly taken off guard, "No!" he said, frowned and turned away.

"Well, do you have one for me!" Snape growled, using his own oily voice.

Weasley looked back into his face in shock. "Why, yes…yes, I think I do." He searched his robes all the while looking up and down the street.

"Perhaps we should step in here," Snape said, kindly. He pointed to the dark open doorway and followed the red-head.

"Snape!" Weasley whispered.

Snape shot his fiercest look. "Please, can we keep this on a no-name basis?"

"Yes, yes," Weasley grunted. "So it is on, then?"

Snape nodded and asked, "When will the others arrive?"

"Soon, soon," Weasley said.

"Whatever made you think to bring your children with you?" Snape snarled in the most vicious manner he could manage.

Arthur Weasley paled, "Well,…well, I…"

Snape hated it when the man repeated his words. He nodded politely and smiled at two people entering the small lobby and bowed at Weasley. "Why thank ye good sir." He held his hand out for Weasley to drop the silver sickle in it.

"See here..." Weasley bluffed. "He was turning beet red and getting angry. Snape turned away, his face frozen in his usual sneer.

He hit the street again, feeling the heat rise from the cobbled road. It enveloped him and sucked the energy from him. This is not going to work, he thought. Not with incompetents like that. He walked, careful to study the street behind him through the shop windows, duck into the shade of an awning or step into an alley to watch unobtrusively. Gaggles of children were laughing and forming up into little crowds at outside cafes. They licked ice creams and talked loudly, laughed and covorted.

Snape noticed a group of older children from Hogwarts. They were mostly Gryffindors. He recognized Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and their friends. Snape pulled his hat down again. Adopting a rolling, almost drunken gait, he walked past. They didn't even look at him.

A hand touched his arm. He swallowed hard and glanced up from the bench he had taken

to observe the gathering crowds. He wasn't afraid and rather enjoyed the rush of adrenaline that coursed through him. At one time he decided that danger was an aphrodisiac to him. It never failed to stir him out of a lethargy or depression.

He recognized the blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. Like himself, Dumbledore had gone to great lengths to disguise himself. The Polyjuice Potion is a very useful tool, Snape mused. Dumbledore had chosen to resemble filch, although he had dressed with a little more taste.

Snape sat down next to him without acknowledging his presence. "Good to see you dear friend," Albus mumbled.

Snape nodded and dropped his head as if sleeping.

"Have you noticed anyone?" Dumbledore asked, snorting into a handkerchief.

Snape knew what he meant. Dumbledore wanted to know if any of the Death Eaters were around. "No," Snape whispered and then snored. A moment later he shook himself, as if suddenly wakening, got to his feet and lumbered away. Snape knew that Dumbledore wanted Harry to have a clear shot at Voldemort which he thought fantastic and utterly insane. The rest of them, members of the Order, were there in case, just in case, Malfoy or his friends decided to show, which Snape thought was likely.

The dark lord would not go anywhere without his guard and they were dangerous, almost as dangerous as he was himself. He frowned and shook his head once again thinking to himself. How could Albus think that the boy could stand up to him in these circumstances. I don't care how good those gypsies are their magic still cannot beat His!

He slipped into a pub and found a corner near a window. The room was crowded but cool and dark. Slipping a coin onto the table, the bar maid brought him a drink. He had to smile graciously and answer her questions about the Carnival and then he was left alone.

Lupin found him and slipped into a chair across from him. The man had taken pains to wear a cloak and cover his face. Although few would know him as a werewolf, they might recognize anyway. Snape watched the room carefully. Lupin was not obvious in the pub Snape had chosen. Snape smiled brightly as if meeting an old friend.

Lupin spoke softly, "I just want you to know, that if anything happens to… to the boy. Well, let's just say, you will pay dearly."

Snape kept the smile on his face and took a sip of his drink and replied, "Of course." He nodded to some of the patrons who were noticeably celebrating, they were drunk. "When has it ever not been on my back?"

The other man snorted, "I don't think you understand, Severus. If anything goes wrong and you-know-who hurts him, then I will kill you." The cloaked man stood, looked down and said, "The other's are here and in place."

"Aye mate. Jolly good!" Snape smiled and shouted at Lupin over the din of the pub. He leaned back as if taking up permanent residence in the chair and pulled his hat down lower on his forehead. His eyes glittered even more darkly then they had before. When he was angry they were almost all pupil. Lupin disappeared into the crowd.

The sun set with the streets becoming ever more crowded.

"They're here!" someone shouted. Small children ran along the street and chattered excitedly. Mother's held onto tiny hands. Everyone crowed the curb and peered down the street.

Brightly decorated, bowed wagons began in front of them. Acrobats, with white-painted faces were cart wheeling down the street alongside the horses. Fiddlers played and dancing girls swirled and clapped their hand cymbals, their bodies writhing. Harry walked at the back of the last wagon, allowing the dust from the street to cloud up around him. His head was bent and he watched the ground. Jolie was whirling around their wagon, dressed as a clown. He was making people laugh by scooping up horse dung and doing tumbling tricks.

He slowed to speak to Harry. He was breathless. "You all right?" Jolie asked, out of breath from his exertions. He gestured expansively and smiled at the cheers from the crowd.

"Yes," Harry said. He drew closer to the wagon and mingled into the shade of it trying to keep his head down.

"Almost there, hang on!" Jolie ran ahead and swatted the horse's rumps, jumping on theirs back a and doing hand-stands, making straggling people on the street, laugh and cheer. It was already getting late in the day and the wagons were rumbling their way over the rough cobble street through town, to the outskirts. A large meadow was strung with lanterns and tents were being erected. A Go-around towered over the lights and Harry could already hear the sound of children laughing.

Everyone began to busy themselves as the wagons were pulled under some large oak trees and the women were starting cooking fires. Men and boys were unhitching horses and pulling out equipment they would use to set up an outdoor trapeze. The stilt-walkers were pulling out their brightly colored gear and the area was full of dust and noise.

Harry drank the cool water that Katlana gave him. He was covered with dust, purposely hiding in among the horses with the other boys, setting them out to graze. Nadya stood quietly by, talking to him with her eyes. They had met the night before, just as the dawn was rising. She knew what was going to happen.

Both Katlana and Nadya were dressed to do their fortune-tellingThey would be in special tents separate from the main performance area.

"You must not come to me, Nadya." Harry warned, as he held her and watched the pinks of the morning sun filling the sky. They had not slept all night using the cover of night to talk and be with one another. "If all goes well, we will meet on the road again."

She looked at him with her dark, warm eyes and nodded. He could tell that she was trying not to cry. "You chose the wrong person to love," he said in his own language. "And I made a mistake in loving anyone at all." He switched to Romani, "Do you understand? If something happens, you must not come to me. You have to believe that I will be alright."

Harry was still surprised at how quickly he had succumbed to her. They had known each other only a short time and their time together was very limited because of her cultural standards and yet he knew in his heart that he loved her and that there would never be another.

He wandered back to the tents, staying in the shade of the wagons, his mind consumed by thoughts of her. He wondered if he had any future, if there was any possibility that he would actually stay alive long enough to see her again as they had the night before.

"Tommy! It's time to dress." Luciano held out his blue silk trousers. The man caught him in the middle of his daydreaming and startled him. " Come in to the tent. Sit! We have to do your face."

"Where's Gregor, Luciano?" Harry asked, hesitating to turn and look out through the crack in the tent flap.

"He will be along. He has many preparations for this night," Luciano answered and slapped the white grease pain on Harry's face a little roughly.

"Lucie, ouch!" Harry complained, grabbing at the fast-moving hand.

"Agh!" The little man, stopped, grabbed Harry around the head and broke into sobs.

"Lucie, stop. It's all right." Harry was hoarse with emotion. Taking the jar of paint from his fist, Harry sent the man out of the tent. "Go. Go, fetch me some tea," he mumbled.

"Hello, Tommy." Gregor entered and took the jar out of Harry's hand. "We have a big crowd tonight." He smeared the grease paint over his face and began to attach his mask. He was already dressed in his blue and purple silk clothes.

Harry continued his own preparations. He was nervous; feeling terrible, more than he ever had before a Quidditch match. He had a million questions running through his mind, but knew he couldn't ask them. He had talked to Gregor, Viktor and others early that morning trying to make sure their plans were well thought out.

"Gregor?" he started.

"Yes, Tommy," the man answered. He strapped on his bird cage harness. Harry watched and once again thought the transformation was impressive. When complete, the man would stand on stilts that rose six feet above the ground. They would be covered in a device that was decorated with real feathers and harness and saddle that was strapped to the torso. Once assembled they would look like men riding large exotic birds. Their own faces were covered with masks that had large beaks and they wore hats with large feathers of various colors. They held reins that appears to be tied to the birds head but in fact made the head move as one would move a puppet, thereby giving the impression that the head moved, ducking and swinging as a natural bird would move.

"Will you do something for me?" Harry hooked the buckle to his own cage.

"Of course!" Gregor said. He stopped and waited.

Harry wanted very much to ask Gregor if he would comfort Nadya and tell her, Tell her what? he thought. Tell her that I'm about to die? "Nothing. Never-mind," he stuttered.

The man reached over and made sure that Harry's own harness was buckled. They used a set of stairs to mount their stilts that looked like long bird legs. Harry was not as confident as the older man who had years of experience, and he took a moment to cling to the pole that steadied him until he could get his balance.

The entertainment had started. Harry and Gregor moved together as planned. The other stilt-walkers moved throughout the crowd. Harry's heart calmed to a smooth easy rhythm. He walked, stopped, made the bird motions, dipping and rearing up, and snatched the coins out of the air that people threw.

He caught himself almost tumbling for the first time from his stilts when he saw them; Ron and Hermione. They were with Ginny, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood. Harry stared at them, frozen in place, forgetting to move his bird.

"Tommy!" Gregor walked over slowly. "What are you doing?!" His dark eyes flashed nervously over the crowd. "Are you out of balance? Do you need my hand? We must keep moving so as not have the eyes on us."

Harry shook himself and pulled up his reins. He couldn't take his eyes from them. What are you doing here? He thought furiously, You weren't suppose to be here!

They looked up at him, their eyes not registering what they truly saw. Ron flipped him a coin and he caught it, just as he had done with all the others.

"Ha! He'd make a good Seeker, " Ron said and laughed.

Hermione nodded and studied Harry's face. He dropped his eyes quickly knowing that if anyone could recognize him, even with a mask, it would be her. He spoke to Gregor in Romani so that it would throw her off. "We are getting good coins tonight," he said loudly.

Harry's heart was in his throat, waiting to see if his act had worked. He stopped and watched them melt into the crowd. When they had disappeared he put the coin in a pocket instead of the collection bag. Harry knew that he could not stop what was going to happen now regardless of whether they were present or not, and he could not warn them.

And then it happened and he knew.

Just as the man with the new short haircut, dressed in dark black robes, knew. Harry's scar exploded in agony and Snape's dark mark burned. Voldemort had arrive at the fair.