Chapter Thirty-Eight
A Flower in the Snow
The next day Harry had two classes in the morning—Investigations, and again Evidence Analysis—and two in the afternoon—History of Aurors, and Disarming and Restraining, which the trainees called "DNR." He ate lunch with Kingsley and Saliyah in Kingsley's office, and they talked about the Minister's dream of what he wanted the Ministry of Magic to become. It wasn't new to Harry; Kingsley had stated the gist of it in his eulogies for Fred, Remus, and Tonks. But now Harry realized that he himself was part of Kingsley's idealistic vision, and it excited him.
By the end of the day, however, his excitement had become overwhelmed by a drowning sensation. Each of his professors had given him a long list of catch-up topics, he had a stack of textbooks that must have weighed twenty or thirty pounds, and he didn't know what half of the terms were that the Investigations teacher, Professor Thoroughgood, had used during his lecture. He spent two hours with Professor Matthewson and didn't get home until after eight o'clock. He sent Ginny a quick note saying he had to get to work, asked Winky to send dinner up to the flat, and spread his homework out on the kitchen table. When the serving dishes magically appeared half an hour later, they very un-magically shoved aside everything on the table and several parchments and three textbooks crashed to the floor.
Swearing at his stupidity, Harry moved his homework to the parlor and spread it out on the floor. He continued to study, but took a break when McPherson returned with Ginny's letter, which was filled with news. Luna had told her that her Aunt Laura, who Harry had mentioned to Ginny yesterday, had cut herself off from Luna and her father years ago; more students were following Emma and Claire's example and eating meals at other House tables; Hagrid and Madame Maxime had been spotted out on the Black Lake in one of the magical boats, sitting rather low in the water (apparently they didn't mind the sub-freezing temperature); and there were more rumors that the school was going to be sealed off because of the attack on Harry at the Shrieking Shack.
He wrote back saying that at the rate his work was piling up, he wouldn't be able to see her tomorrow at Hogwarts. After he sent it off, he went into the bedroom, got the photograph of Ginny that sat on his nightstand, and put it on the floor in the parlor next to the pile of textbooks; whenever he looked blearily up from a sentence he was re-writing for the third time, or a passage he was re-reading for the fourth time, she smiled and blew him a kiss.
He fell asleep on the floor long after midnight and woke up there the next morning, stiff and poorly rested; his cold, untouched dinner was still in the kitchen. He stumbled downstairs and Winky made him breakfast, muttering under her breath about wizards who didn't eat their dinners and slept on floors.
Fortunately, Wednesday mornings in the program were free so that the trainees could get some catch up time in the middle of the week. Unfortunately for Harry, Professor Matthewson decided he would rather get together with him now than stay after hours. At first Harry was annoyed and even a little panicky; he didn't see how he could avoid being swamped if Matthewson kept pushing ahead with all the lists of topics Harry had now acquired from all his professors. But Matthewson spent the entire three hours helping him with homework and with the passages in the Investigations textbook he had found incomprehensible. By lunchtime, Harry could actually see a way through the mountain range of work.
Ron watched him closely at lunch. They had finished eating and everyone else had gone back to level two. "How's it going?" he asked. "You look a little peaky."
"A little? Is that all?" Harry chuckled. "It's only been two and a half days and I feel like I've been stuffed with more information than in a year at Hogwarts."
"I thought that would happen. Look, a bunch of us have been talking, and we're willing to take some time during lunch to help, if you—"
Harry waved his hand. "No. I don't need help. Thanks, mate, but I'll manage."
Ron nodded and leaned closer. "Listen, mate, you have an attitude problem—" Harry scowled and started to say something, but Ron held up his hand "—but it's not too late to save your career in law enforcement." He grinned, and after a moment Harry grinned back.
"Okay, that's a worthwhile goal. How do I change my attitude?"
"You haven't been around long enough to learn that everything we do, we do as a team. You've been too swamped to see it, but we do all our experiments together, we help each other with spells, we do homework assignments together, hell, sometimes we even take exams together." He paused, looked around, and lowered his voice further. "Do you know why Morequest Pester is finished as an Auror, unless he gets a personality transplant? It's not because no one wants to work with him, it's because he never wanted to work with anyone. It's a shame, because the git's brilliant, but so are a lot of people around here, including you."
He sat back and shoved his hands into his pockets. "It's really quite simple. We all get to know each other better and we learn each other's strengths and weaknesses. And believe me, some folks have severe weaknesses."
Harry couldn't help laughing at Ron's sardonic comment. "So what did you have in mind for remedial Investigations. That's the one I'm having the most trouble with so far."
"No problem. It turns out that it's a breeze for Parvati and Padma. They have a knack for it. I'll talk to them and you'll figure which is the best day to meet. We'll do the same with whatever subject you happen to be drowning in that week. Hey," he grinned, "no one likes to have their weekends messed up with studying."
Harry sat in silence, marveling; it had never occurred to him that people would want to use their free time to help him. But, he realized, it should have occurred to him. They had all turned up at Hogsmeade Station when he met the Hogwarts Express with food and drink. Everyone had welcomed him enthusiastically into the program. And so far no one had said anything about the rumors swirling around that Harry was already marked as the next Head Auror.
In the cafeteria and the corridors there hadbeen rumors, and looks, and some appraising stares. By now everyone in the Ministry knew that Harry was working there. Today, when he walked into the cafeteria, not a few tables had gone quiet when he walked past. It didn't bother him; he was too used to it, and he knew that politics and rumors—often the same thing—would not be denied. He remembered some old conversations with Bill about Ministry politics, and remembered saying that he didn't want anything to do with it. Well, too late now; it was part of his new territory.
Ron was looking at him curiously. "Daydreaming," Harry acknowledged. "What time is it?"
"Almost time for mentors." Ron glanced at a clock on the wall. "How did it go with Ushujaa, by the way? Did you go out on a case?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Brilliant! What was it? I think I'm going out on another one today. Two wizards got into a fight over a bad cauldron one of them sold to the other, and now they're both in St. Mungo's."
"She told me not to say anything." Harry glanced at Ron, who returned a surprised look.
"She said that? Why?"
Harry shrugged. "That's the way she wants it. I'm not supposed to talk to anyone."
"Not even to Ginny?"
"Yeah, she said I could tell Ginny."
"Well, that's good. You've got to have someone to talk to, otherwise you'll go nutters. I tell Hermione everything."
Harry felt a huge sense of relief. "So you don't mind if I can't tell you things?"
Ron shook his head. "They're testing us to see if we can keep our mouths shut when we're supposed to. I can tell you I'm investigating two twits who dueled over a stupid cauldron, but I can't tell you their names. And I'll bet if they had been caught at something really bad, like say, smuggling in Peruvian Darkness Powder, my mentor would have told me to keep it quiet."
"Uh huh." Harry looked away and stood. "Well, I guess it's time to get going."
Saliyah did not take him out this time; she had administrative work, which she showed briefly to Harry, and a case involving the French wizarding government. This held interest for Harry, since it concerned last summer's escapees from Azkaban.
"Our people were tailing Dolores Umbridge when she was in France, but as you know they lost her. We assume that she came back here, but we don't know for sure. We've been trying to get the French to help us, but they're a little irritated because we didn't talk to them before we sent our people over there after the escape."
"I can understand that," Harry said. "Why didn't you ask them first?"
"We didn't have time. If we hadn't gone right after them we would have lost them completely. What we needed was a contact over there, someone who could have got permission—and help—right away. But our previous wizarding government wasn't exactly what they considered a good neighbor, so they had pretty much cut off relations with Britain."
Harry had a smile on his face. "A few months ago I had a talk with Bill Weasley, and he told me about some of the politics going on. But it's even more complicated than that. And there's also the goblins."
"And the centaurs, and the Romanians, and the Germans. Not to mention the Muggles. Have you ever seen a Muggle circus? Well, sometimes it seems like we're in one."
They talked for a while about what Kingsley was trying to do to placate the French, and by then it was five o'clock. But as Harry was leaving for Professor Matthewson's office, Saliyah stopped him. "Percy will be making an announcement to the trainees tomorrow morning, but I wanted to give you a heads up. On Monday the Wizengamot will hold the trial of the four students who were arrested last month at Hogwarts. They'll probably ask Ginny, Luna Lovegood, and Keesha Baker to testify. It's a complicated case, and we thought it would be instructive for the trainees to observe."
Harry frowned. "What's so complicated? They beat up and almost killed three first-years."
"That's clear-cut. But someone put them up to it, and there are plenty of Warlocks who think we should use Veritaserum on them. If the Wizengamot decide to do that, the Minister can't stop it." She didn't seem to be upset by that prospect, and Harry recalled the disagreement between her and Kingsley about Veritaserum at Ginny's birthday party.
"Does Ginny know she may be called?"
"She will by this afternoon. Oh, and I asked Professor Matthewson to let you go early. I thought you might need more time for dinner." She gave him a little smile and turned to the parchments on her desk.
Harry did get home early, before six. He checked his map and saw Ginny in her room, so he quickly changed and Floo'd to the Gryffindor common room, surprising the three second-years sitting in the chairs in front of he fireplace. He peered around them in time to see Ginny coming out the door from the girls' dormitory with Emma and Claire. He ducked down, and stepped in front of Ginny just as she was walking past; she gave a yelp and leaped onto him, making him stagger backwards.
"What are you doing here?" she exclaimed after she had kissed him with her legs wrapped around his hips and her arms around his neck. "Aren't you meeting with Professor What's His Name? Matthewson?"
"They let me go early." Harry set her down, grinning at the twins who were whispering to each other behind their hands. "What are you two talking about? Didn't you ever see me kiss Ginny before?"
"That's what we're talking about," Emma giggled. "You two never do anything else. If you're going to get married, you have to learn how to talk to each other too."
"You see?" Harry turned to Ginny. "That must be the Slytherin influence. Very rational, very calculating, no passion."
"Sean is passionate!" Claire exclaimed. She turned bright red as Harry and Ginny both stared at her.
"What I mean," the girl said hotly, "is that he believes passionately in things. Honestly." She rolled her eyes.
"Have you been spending time with Hermione?" Harry asked, trying hard not to laugh. "You sound just like her."
They had left the common room and were on their way down to the Great Hall. The twins switched the topic to Defense Against the Dark Arts and Madame Maxime, who was fast becoming the most popular teacher in school, especially with girls.
"I don't know where she gets all her clothes," said Emma. "Each day so far she's worn something different in a different color. We've started keeping a scorecard. She knows lots of spells too."
They entered the Great Hall and the girls split off to sit at the Hufflepuff table next to Keesha, who waved at Harry; he sat down with Ginny at the Gryffindor table. Dennis Creevey and a few others wanted to know about the training program, and Harry started describing his classes. Ginny listened for a few minutes, but soon the subject of the Quidditch team came up with Meeta and Demelza. Then someone said that they had heard about the upcoming trial of the four Slytherins, and everyone looked at Ginny.
"I heard about it too," Harry said to her. "All the trainees will be there. How do you feel about it?"
"Nervous. I guess it's no secret that the three of us caught them, but now it'll be all over the Prophet again. I don't much like the idea of being a target for their friends."
"Well, there's already three Aurors stationed up here. But if something happens, or even if it just looks like something will happen, I'll be here. And," he lowered his voice, "you have the ring."
Ginny looked around; several students were leaning towards them, trying to hear. "Let's talk about it later," she muttered, and started eating again.
As soon as they could, Harry and Ginny left the Great Hall. "I need to tell you lots, anyway," he said as they walked towards the marble staircase.
"Let's duck into a classroom," Ginny suggested. "We'll have more privacy."
They went into a room on the third floor, apparently not used very often, judging by the layer of dust on the floor. The ceiling was painted black and was covered with tiny dots of light that slowly moved in giant circles from one side of the room to the other.
"It looks like an old Astronomy classroom," Harry said, looking up. "There's Orion, and the Dog Star. I was never in here, were you?"
"No. It's nice, though. You can study the stars without going outside."
Harry cleaned the dust off two chairs and they sat. He told her everything that had happened that week—their tryst on Monday night had been completely taken up with other matters—and Ginny laughed at his description of Mundungus Fletcher's infatuation with her.
"He's like a naughty puppy. He can't help messing on the floor, and he's always sorry afterwards. At least if he's caught he's sorry."
"I don't like the business with the Darkness Powder," Harry said. "There's almost a hundred pounds of it somewhere near Hogsmeade. That's enough to blot out the whole village for a week. They're going to use it sometime, and it won't be funny when they do."
Ginny was silent; she extended her hand and he took it. "Promise you'll come if anything happens," she said. "I don't care where you are or what you're doing. Promise."
"I'll be here. You wrote that McGonagall was thinking about sealing the grounds, and if she does . . ."
"Then I'll get out somehow."
They didn't speak for a few moments. Finally Harry said, "The other students are going to help me catch up. I think Ron organized it. He already lined up the Patils to help me with Investigations. And Saliyah hinted that we might take a trip to France. She admitted that Umbridge disappeared, and she wants to see for herself what went on over there."
"That's wonderful, Harry! You'll get to travel. The last time I went anywhere was to Egypt. Maybe someday we can travel together."
They talked for another half hour, but they both had heavy loads of homework, so Harry took Ginny back to the common room, and from there escorted her to the library with all her books and parchments. He left after a nice goodbye snog.
He got to bed a little earlier than the previous two nights, and the next two days at the Ministry went well. Parvati and Padma took turns, one on Thursday and the other on Friday, helping him with some of the concepts he was having trouble with in Investigations, and by the end of his first week, although tired, Harry knew that he could do it, especially with all the help he was going to get.
On Friday afternoon, instead of each student and mentor meeting separately, everyone gathered in the common room and, while tea and biscuits were served, Saliyah told them what they could expect at the trial on Monday.
"It's going to be very tense," she said, "because they could be sentenced to long terms in Azkaban. If they were only a few years older, that would be the likely outcome, in my opinion. But they were students when they committed the crime, and if they confess that someone put them up to it and if they name that person or persons, they'll get off easier, at least without having to do time in Azkaban."
Ernie Macmillan raised his hand. "That's certainly a great incentive to confess, but isn't there a bigger incentive to remain silent? If they go to prison, at least they'll live. If they name someone, they could be assassinated."
"They'll get protection, but unfortunately you are right, Mr. Macmillan; that's certainly a factor. On the other hand, if they name names, it might make it easier for us to find a potential assassin." She looked around. "Any other questions? No? Then I have one. Who here has ever witnessed a trial by the Wizengamot?"
Harry slowly raised his hand; no one else did. He suspected that Saliyah knew he was the only one, and wondered at her motive.
"Would you mind sharing your experience with the rest of us, Mr. Potter?"
Harry glanced at Ron, who was sitting next to him; his friend nodded, as if to say that he also knew it was a setup. Harry smiled wryly and stood.
"I saw one trial and was the accused in another one," he began, and noticed surprise on Saliyah's face; she probably didn't know about his use of Albus Dumbledore's Pensieve during the Triwizard Tournament. "The one I saw actually wasn't real, it was a memory of Professor Dumbledore's. In the other one I was accused of performing underage magic. Cornelius Fudge was trying to railroad me in order to get at Dumbledore." He glanced at Saliyah, who just looked back at him.
"Luckily for me," Harry continued, "Dumbledore showed up, otherwise I would have been kicked out of Hogwarts. I had no idea what to do or say. Fudge and Umbridge had set me up. He kept on hammering me, until Dumbledore surprised him with a witness who backed up my story. Then they voted, and I was acquitted."
He looked at Saliyah again. "Go on," she said. "What was it like? What did you think about it afterwards, I mean about the Wizengamot, not your particular trial?"
"I thought they were pretty fair, aside from Fudge and Umbridge. As soon as they realized that the witness was telling the truth, they turned against Fudge. Before that, I think they were ready to convict me."
"Thank you, Mr. Potter." Harry sat down and looked at Ron again; he shrugged, this time as if to say he had no idea why she had done it.
Saliyah noticed the exchange between Harry and Ron. "I had a reason for inducing Mr. Potter to speak," she said. "It has very much to do with why you are all here. In the past, the Wizengamot has been used for selfish political reasons, as it was in Harry's case. But in the end, Harry was acquitted; justice prevailed. You all heard Minister Shacklebolt eulogize at one or another of the funerals last spring, and you were all in this room last fall when the program started and he spoke directly to you. He talked about justice."
She paused, and the pause grew longer. Finally Harry spoke. "I wasn't here last fall, but I heard him at two different funerals. When I was framed for doing underage magic, it was one of the worst things I ever went through. It was just so unfair. Even though I had lots of friends who were willing to help me, I still felt helpless."
People were watching him, some with simple curiosity, but others nodded. Harry looked at Saliyah; she had a small twinkle in her eye and gave him a tiny nod.
There were questions for Harry, Saliyah, and the other professors. Warren Anderbis, the Law For Aurors instructor, told them how the trial would proceed. By then it was five o'clock and the meeting broke up; Harry declined several invitations to have a drink at the Leaky Cauldron, and ten minutes later he was in his parlor with Ginny in his arms, and thirty seconds after that they were in bed.
Afterwards, as they held each other and talked, Harry could tell that Ginny was still nervous about the trial. She felt intimidated by the prospect of facing all those old and powerful wizards and witches, and didn't like the idea of having her photograph in the Daily Prophet, or gossip columnists writing about her love life.
"At least you'll be there," she said later that night as they sat in front of the fire wrapped in a blanket Harry had taken from the bed. It had gotten colder outside and was starting to snow; Ginny wanted the comfort of being bundled up and snuggled next to her sweetie, rather than using a warming spell. "We'll get to see each other."
"Yes, I'll be there," Harry said softly, nuzzling her ear. "So will Ron and Percy. And Kingsley is running it. He won't let anyone intimidate you."
"I still don't like it. Jace and those other gits will be there. What about their parents? Are they allowed in?"
"I don't know." He pulled her closer and wrapped more blankets around them. He wanted to chase away her fears, and he was angry because he knew that they were reasonable fears. Being stared at by dozens of imposing people was unsettling; he knew it from personal experience. She might be asked uncomfortable questions, such as why was she in the corridor outside the Hufflepuff common room in the first place. And there was nothing Harry hated more than seeing his name in the newspapers; now, he probably would see Ginny's name blazoned across a headline, and he knew he would hate that too.
"I'll be there," he whispered again, and Ginny drew the blanket up so that they were completely cocooned and held herself close to him.
They decided to do all their studying on Saturday so they could relax on Sunday. They debated whether it would be too distracting if they studied together, but decided to give it a go, so the next morning Harry gathered up the books and supplies he needed and Floo'd back to Hogwarts with Ginny. They spent the entire day holed up in the library, taking up an entire table with their Potions, Arithmancy, Transfiguration, Evidence Analysis, and Investigations textbooks spread out together, along with rolls of parchments, ink pots, and quills.
It worked well because they didn't miss each other. It seemed to Harry, who hadn't had to do this much school work in a long time, that being with Ginny actually helped him concentrate. Whenever he needed a break, he just had to raise his head and there was his beloved sitting across the table, bent over a parchment or a book, her beautiful hair tied back in a long ponytail with a blue ribbon, her left hand with her ruby ring resting on the table. She would look up and smile at him, her eyes sparkling, and Harry would go back to work.
Once, when he had finally finished a long parchment summarizing the two-dozen-odd steps in an analysis procedure, he put his quill down, stretched, got up and walked around the table. He took a comb from Ginny's book bag, untied the ribbon, and started combing her hair. She leaned back and closed her eyes, a beatific smile on her face. He wordlessly combed for five minutes and sat down again. As he looked across the table into her shining eyes, he was suddenly looking back at himself from the other side of the table. He felt the quill in her fingers, the snugness of the ring, and the cool silkiness of her hair cascading against the back of her neck.
A heat and a yearning rose from her loins into her breasts and her lips.
For a moment Harry did not want to acknowledge what the sensations were. He blinked, and found himself staring across the table at Ginny, who now had a wide-eyed grin on her face. He felt himself flush and coughed into his fist, startled and a little embarrassed by the intimacy they had just shared. But Ginny reached across and he took her hand and held it tightly; he had never loved her more than at that moment.
They went back to work. At first Harry was afraid that the erotic episode would make it impossible for him to concentrate, but after a few minutes he found that his mind was clearer than ever, and the problem he was struggling over in Hidden Herbs, Surreptitious Spells, and Sub-rosa Substances had suddenly become trivial. He glanced up at Ginny; she was bent over a parchment once again, and he smiled to himself and went on to the next chapter.
They ate dinner in the inn's dining room with Neville, Keesha, and Luna, who had trudged through six inches of snow to get there; all three girls had been summoned to the trial, so they had decided to get together and talk about it. Ginny was nervous, Keesha was defiant—"string the bastards up" was how she put it—and no one could tell how Luna felt. Neville was not allowed into the trial, but Harry said that if he waited outside the courtroom someplace he would find him when it was all over, unless Keesha found him first. When they finished eating, Neville, Keesha, and Luna Floo'd back to Hogwarts from Harry's fireplace.
Ginny didn't sleep well that night, and when they got up Sunday morning Harry suggested spending the day with Ron and Hermione. Ginny wasn't sure how relaxing that would be, but at least it would be a distraction. And it did turn out to be diverting. They arrived before breakfast to find Hermione up but Ron still asleep; Ginny took an empty teacup and went to wake him. She came back into the small sitting room without the teacup and grinning.
"Elementary first-year Transfiguration," she said. "Teacup to mouse and back to teacup. He'll be here momentarily."
Ron came in holding the teacup and looking grumpy; his scowl deepened when Ginny offered to pour him some tea. "You're a menace, witch," he said as he fell into a chair. "Harry, you'd better watch yourself with this one. You'll wake up one morning with a Skrewt inside your pants." Harry quickly crossed his legs.
Ginny and Hermione went into the kitchen to make breakfast, while Harry and a yawning Ron talked about the trial; Harry was stroking Crookshanks who had jumped into his lap.
"Ginny's upset," he said. "Back when I had my hearing, I think she was almost as traumatized as I was, and she's nervous about what kind of reception she'll get tomorrow. But she's also worried about the newspapers. They haven't bothered her yet, but they're bound to come after her now. I wish I could make them leave her alone."
"It will be a problem," Ron agreed. "And I doubt there's much you can do but wait it out. She'll be a hot topic because of you, at least until something else pushes the trial off the front page."
"You think it'll be front page?"
"Think about it. Young defendants, a couple of them from prominent Death Eater families; little children being Cursed; and they're rescued by Harry Potter's girlfriend. It's good enough to be a Muggle movie."
Hermione had come back from the kitchen and was listening. Before Harry could answer she said, "Breakfast is ready, but can we talk about something else? Ginny needs something to distract her."
"Do you have more teacups?" Harry wondered as they entered the kitchen. Ron just shook his head and followed them.
Harry went right to Ginny. "You need a hug," he said and wrapped her in his arms. Ginny leaned against him and sighed.
"I'm sorry." Her voice was muffled in his jumper. "I'm being silly."
"No." Harry let his fingers run through her hair. "You're not silly at all. Come on," he lifted her chin and kissed her. "Eat, and then we'll do something fun."
Breakfast was eggs and sausage, and Ginny had cheered up by the time they walked out of the flat into Diagon Alley. "I just thought of something," Harry said. "I could use a table for the parlor. I've had to sit on the floor to do my homework because the kitchen table is too small."
Ginny took his arm and smiled. "Now I'm definitely feeling better. Why didn't you tell me you wanted to shop?"
It was starting to snow again as they walked down to Hippolite's Home Furnishings, where Harry and Ginny had bought furniture for the flat last summer. They found a magical table that adjusted to whatever size you wanted when you tapped your wand on the picture of a blowfish engraved in the center. As the table grew in size, the blowfish expanded, and when the table contracted, it shrank.
"Perfect!" Harry said to Ginny as they left. "Now you can do your homework there too."
She was on his arm again, and the four of them sauntered along through the snowflakes, looking in shop windows and browsing at the few vendor carts that were out. They walked until they reached the wall at the Leaky Cauldron and turned back. The snow was coming down harder, and they pulled their hoods over their heads. The wind had also picked up, swirling the snowflakes and billowing their cloaks as they hurried along through the almost empty street.
Gringotts loomed ahead, and the entrance to Knockturn Alley. As they approached the Alley, a solitary figure emerged from it and started to walk briskly towards them. A gust of wind blew back the person's hood, and as her hand came up to pull it back over her head, the foursome were even with her and they all looked up at the same time, then halted in astonishment. Pansy Parkinson glared back, drew her hood quickly over her face, and started running towards the Leaky Cauldron.
Ginny hissed and pulled out her wand, but Harry and Ron both grabbed her.
"No!" Harry said. "It's over. Let her go."
Ginny turned back and looked at him. "You're right, but what was she doing here?"
"What are we doing here?" said Ron. "It's Diagon Alley, everyone comes here."
"On a Sunday morning in a snowstorm? And she was in Knockturn Alley, not Diagon Alley."
"Let's stop in Flourish and Blotts," Hermione said suddenly. "I just thought of something." The others looked at each other, and went after her; she had already started back the other way. Pansy was gone, and in a moment they were inside the cozy warmth of the book store.
Different witches greeted Hermione, but she got the same VIP treatment as she had the last time, and soon she was seated in a chair flipping through a thick volume that one of the clerks retrieved. Harry, Ginny, and Ron watched, and in a moment Hermione's face lit up.
"I thought so. Look." She held up the book with her finger pointing to a line on a page. "And look here." She flipped a few pages, pointed to another line, and looked at them triumphantly.
"Hermione," Ron said, "what the hell are you talking about? Speak so that mere mortals can understand."
"They're neighbors, Ron. Pansy Parkinson and Abigail Abernathy lived on the same road in Dringhouses." She waved the volume at them and they could see the title, Stretz's Street Directory Of The Wizarding Families Of Britain.
"How on earth did you remember that?" Ron asked.
"Last fall when we were trying to locate Turquoise's house, you mentioned that Pansy had family in Dringhouses. The next time I was in here, I looked it up and checked out the names of other wizarding families who lived nearby. It was rather trivial, actually."
"I'm sure." Ron looked at Harry. "What do you think, mate? I don't think you've read the chapter about so-called coincidences in the Investigations book yet."
Harry thought for a moment. "Well, even if—"
"Wait!" said Ginny, glancing at the three clerks standing nearby. "Let's not talk about it here."
Ron looked at her appreciatively. "You're right, Sis. You are forgiven the mouse."
They hurried back to the flat. Hermione brewed a pot of tea and Ron retrieved a tin of biscuits from the pantry as they settled around the kitchen table. Harry took up his thought.
"Even if they knew each other, they're seven years apart in age. It isn't likely that they were friends."
"What does that matter?" said Hermione. "Pansy must have known her. She's bound to be upset by what happened."
"I dispute that. She's a selfish bitch. All she ever cared about was getting Draco to notice her. I saw her do it. She's pathetic."
"You're understandably prejudiced," Hermione said. "But if she knew Abigail as a child, maybe she does feel some compassion."
Harry shook his head. "Abigail is a blood traitor, as far as Pansy is concerned. She probably wishes Jace had killed her."
"That's over the top, mate," Ron cut in. "I agree with Hermione, you're not being rational about her. I'm not saying she's in love with Abigail, but there is a connection between them, and you can't just dismiss it."
Harry stared at the tabletop with a sour look. "Then what was she doing in Knockturn Alley? I don't think she was shopping for snow booties."
"That's a good question," Ron said, "but what does that have to do with her connection to Abigail Abernathy?"
"All right, I don't know. I'm just saying that if she was nosing around Knockturn Alley it means that she's still playing around with the Dark side."
"Harry is right," said Ginny. "She was up to no good. Two-faced ugly bitch," she added.
"Tea, anyone?" Hermione smiled brightly and started pouring. "And why don't we go out for lunch? They just opened a new Indian restaurant near Euston Station, and we haven't tried it yet."
They dropped the discussion about Pansy and soon left for the restaurant. It was still snowing but the wind had died down, so they walked a dozen blocks and had an enjoyable lunch. Harry watched Ginny and he could tell that she was more relaxed as she told Hermione about Madame Maxime, while Harry and Ron talked about Harry's first week in the Auror program. They took a cab back to the Leaky Cauldron; Ginny said she wanted to go back to Hogsmeade, so they said goodbye and returned to the flat.
The new table was there when they stepped out of the fireplace. Harry moved it around the room while Ginny considered each spot, and she finally decided to put it next to the casement window near McPherson's perch. Harry built up a fire and they snuggled on the love seat. "How are you doing?" he asked.
Ginny was silent for a moment. "I'd just like it to be over. I wonder what Pansy was doing there?"
Harry grunted. "Probably nothing that has to do with anything. She can't touch us here, if that's what you were thinking." He held her tighter and she climbed into his lap.
"I don't care," she murmured. "I just want to be here with you. I'm getting tired of school. Once my big projects are done, things will start to wind down. I can't wait."
Harry looked at her, surprised. "There's still Quidditch."
Ginny grinned and nodded; her mood had instantly changed. "I can't wait for that." She sat up, still in his lap. "Can you come to our Saturday practices? I think we can start in about six weeks, maybe sooner if the weather's good. I've been planning some new offensive schemes. Do you remember that book I got about the Harpies? It's so cool! They do this crossing maneuver, and they pass the Quaffle three or four times while they're doing it, and sometimes the Keeper doesn't even know who has the ball. I think Demelza and Meeta can do it with some practice. And there's another formation they use if the other team pulls a Chaser back to help on defense, where one of the Harpies Chasers passes the Quaffle backward and then flies straight at the opponent's Chaser. Since they're not used to it, they almost always bail out, and there's an open path right to the goal!"
She continued a non-stop rush of Quidditch talk, and Harry leaned back and listened with a grin on his face. Ginny's eyes were alight, her hands described players' movements; her whole body swayed and turned as she depicted each maneuver. Suddenly she stopped, looked at him and, laughing, put her arms around his neck.
"Listen to me babble. I guess all I want is to be with you and play Quidditch."
"Both of those are fine with me."
"Mmm. And right now I'm with you, so . . ."
The snowstorm's clouds, dark and heavy, had brought an early dusk to the north country. Harry went down to the inn's kitchen and came back with a tray of sandwiches which he left in the upstairs kitchen. Ginny was already in bed with the veela candles burning. Harry tried to pull the covers down when he got into bed, but she shrieked and yanked them back, then giggled and pulled him in.
"Warm me up," she whispered, and they spent the rest of the afternoon and evening loving each other. Harry made occasional trips to the kitchen to get food, and just before nine o'clock they Floo'd back to the Gryffindor common room and said goodbye until tomorrow.