She gave me a 'moment' while she popped - literally - to her joint here and get something that could help. When she returned, she pulled out a large stone basin from a nondescript box she carried in. Then she held up her wand to her head, and for a moment I thought she was going to off herself. What happened next confused me greatly. A silver ribbon came from her temple to the point of her wand, and when it came out completely she dropped it into the basin.
"I barely believe it myself. I doubt that you would just from me telling you. So I think it is best if I show you." She holds out her hand to take mine, and I fear that we are going to do that apparate thing again, but instead her head sinks into the basin and she is pulled in, dragging me along for the ride.
What we see next shocks me to the core.
It is like a movie, I see her walking into the club, there are shady faces all around and each of their sets of eyes linger on her longer than a gentleman's would. I watch as many men try to flirt with her, offering her drinks that smoke and others of unnatural colors. I watch as she wanders through the club, her hips swaying to attract as much attention as she can. She heads over to the stage area lined in a deep green and silver jacquard mermaid print. She stands, holding a glass of champagne that came off a tray a waiter offered, just watching the canary croon out a sad melody, something of a lost love that never was meant to be.
I understand the pain in her voice, I can feel it deep within me as I watch the dish get tapped by a man that could be a bouncer in any club on the Sunset Strip.
"Ne'er seen you round ere before," his English is embarrassing, especially paired with his British accent. "I'm Goyle. And ya are?"
"Rachel. Rachel McIverson. I'm from Indiana. Graduated Ilvermorny a couple of years ago. Just moved here." She talks like a native, not in her swotty British accent, but as a shy midwesterner.
"Why dontcha join my friend and me. It ain't safe for a looker like ya." She nods and follows Goyle to a table just to the left of the stage, tucked in the corner, on a slightly raised platform. Here the two goons can watch everything that is going on in the whole club. "Rachel, this is Crabbe. Crabbe, Rachel from Ilvermorny."
He just grunts in acknowledgement, his eyes never leaving the floor, and a dumb look on his face like he's been hit once or twice too many times.
"So what brings ya ere?" Goyle starts to what I only can guess is flirt with her.
"I was in trouble once and a nice officer helped me. Detective Zabini. He told me of this place, that it would be safe for me. I just wanted to see him and thank him for his help and direction," she says coyly from under her long dark lashes.
They both give something of a cross between a grunt and a chuckle.
"Ya gonna have to see a seer to thank im. We off'd im a few months back," Crabbe grunts out.
She fakes surprise and slight fear in this recognition. "But, but, he was so nice." Her eyes water with fake tears.
"Not according to is wife," Goyle takes up the story. "She paid a pretty galleon to have him off'd. She wan'ed to go 'ome. He didn't wanna. So she off'd him. Paid more to have im done in during duty. Made im into a hero or sompin. Now she gets muggle money for er and the kid."
I felt myself pulled out of the memory and wanted to hurl. Tracey? Tracey paid to have him off'd. I swear I'm gonna kill the bitch.
"Don't fret," the silver ribbon is pulled out of the basin and put in a vial and stopped up, "I will take this to my friend Harry. He'll have them all arrested for Blaise's death. I just need a floo connection to get in touch with him and your memory also."
It took two days of constant surveillance of the Black Mermaid, Crabbe, and Goyle before Harry Potter came with a small army of aurors to arrest the two goons and bring in Tracey.
While waiting, Granger and I spent a great deal of time together. We talked about everything from literature to catching crooks. She taught me a number of new spells and gave me all her books from when she went to school. She taught me how to utilize the magical communication system and how to apparate myself.
She introduced me around the MACUSA office of Los Angeles, and got me all the proper licensing and whatnot to be a real wizard. She even set me up with a local tutor in case I got stumped on my magical lessons.
In return I gave her a real tour of Los Angeles, the good and the bad. We took a train ride down the coast to San Juan Capistrano for a day. It was what one would call romantic, especially when I finally got the balls to kiss her under the Mission's belltower.
Blaise was right. I could easily be her husband. I could easily see a life with her. If it weren't for the facts that we live on opposite sides of the planet and our lives are ingrained in our respective homes.
On the train back to Grand Central Station, we talked about how we were going to get Tracey and what the two of us should do with Ian since Blaise wanted us both as godparents.
"Did you know Blaise put you down as a magical godfather to Ian? You have as much right to him as I do," she explained. I guess these magical people are worse than the department when it comes to paperwork.
"You take him. Take him back to England. Introduce him to his family back there. It will provide more stability than I can ever give him." I am not the kind of man to be a dad, and definitely not a single dad. My work comes first and with the danger and odd hours, it always will. What kind of life is that for a kid?
She nods. I think she realizes this is the beginning of our goodbyes.