Ah, PEZ – isn't it always the same? The real jerks seem to be able to push their
women around as much as they want, but the nice guys end up getting stepped
on. Seriously, I see Ginny as being
extremely insecure on a number of levels after breaking up with David. After all, she was with him for three years
before he dumped her, and she took up with Harry in a new relationship before
she had really come to terms with the old one ending. Also, David was her professional partner and played a big part in
her musical career, even though he and she didn't see eye to eye. Adjustment and growing up both take time.
I knew I'd spark some protest about my treatment of the
characters! May I say again – have I
let you down yet? Can you doubt that I will
get them through all this and far worse before this fic is over? [Is that a resounding silence I hear?]
Ron blinked several times and staggered slightly as the effects of the Port caught up with him. He felt someone catch hold of his arm and looked up to see Harry shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts.
"Oh, that was not good." Ron said feelingly, "I wouldn't
like to do that with a hangover." Harry
took out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
"It's given me a hangover," he growled, "And I didn't even
do anything to justify it last night. Come to think of it, I didn't do anything
last night, period!" Ron gave him a
sidelong look.
"Still taking it badly, was she?" he asked
sympathetically. Harry was spared the
necessity of answering as somewhere nearby a throat was cleared
ostentatiously. They looked around to
see an efficient-looking witch standing with a clipboard. She came towards them, smiling brightly.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Wesley? You have arrived safely?"
"Weasley." corrected Ron automatically, "And yes,
we've arrived. 'Safely' might be a bit
of an exaggeration though." The little
witch disregarded the comment, checking a list on her clipboard.
" … Wax Waycombe, Wesley – no, I'm afraid you're definitely
down as Wesley." She informed him with an even brighter smile. Ron sighed.
"How is it I always end up in situations like this?" he
groaned, quietly.
"Your car is waiting for you outside." she announced,
ignoring his comment. Ron stared.
"Our what?"
"Your car, Mr. Wesley. It has been parked in a No Parking Zone for 10 minutes." Ron looked at Harry.
"Did you order a car?" his friend shook his head. Ron shrugged.
"Nor did I. Let's go
take a look." They both shouldered
their rucksacks and took off for the door, pursued by the little witch.
"Mr. Potter! Mr.
Wesley! Please, you must sign here
before you go. To verify your safe
arrival." Ron waved an impatient wand
at the clipboard.
"Have a nice day!" he smiled as he disappeared out into the
street.
"I doubt she will though." he confided to Harry in a low
voice, "I signed us as Tom Riddle and Severus Snape." Harry looked about him then made confidently for an insignificant-looking
off-white saloon, parked almost insolently by a 'No Parking' sign. He flung open the passenger door and climbed
in, gesturing for Ron to get in the back.
"Hello, Neville." He said, grinning cheerfully and pulling
on the brim of the driver's baseball cap, "It's great to see you again!" Neville spluttered in a muffled sort of way
as he yanked the cap back on to his head, then he beamed all over his plump,
honest face.
"Can't you two ever keep out of trouble?" he demanded,
mock-fiercely, "Ye Gods, Ron, marriage certainly agrees with you – you're
looking healthier than ever. And how's
the gorgeous Ginny? Set a date
yet?" Harry's smile slipped slightly as
he shook his head.
"Still trying to persuade her, Neville." He replied
lightly. Ron gave him a sharp glance
but forebore to comment. Neville let in
the clutch and moved off.
"You're staying with me tonight." He grinned,
"Gringotts/Ministry co-operation means I get to ferry you around while you're
in LA. But you'll only be here as long
as it takes for briefing – probably around twenty-four to thirty-six hours."
"Is Sirius here?" Neville nodded.
"My instructions are to take you to him now." He told them. "He'll be briefing you today,
but you won't see much more of him until you get to Mexico." Harry sat back in the air-conditioned car,
watching the familiar sights flash past. It seemed a very short time before they were drawing into a long
driveway in front of a pleasant, modern house. As they climbed out of the car, faint sounds of laughter and splashing
drifted from behind the building. Harry
looked enquiringly at Neville who grinned happily.
"This is my house, yes," He told them, "But I certainly
don't live alone – come and see!" They
trooped through a small iron gate into a large garden that, despite its size,
was dominated by a luxurious swimming pool. In the shallow end, two bikini-clad girls were ganging up on a hapless
young man, splashing and ducking him despite his cries for help. Finally, he sighted Neville and vaulted
quickly out of the water.
"Thank Merlin!" he exclaimed, "The cavalry has arrived. Come on, Nev! Get suits for your friends. I'm out for revenge!" Neville
laughed and waved him away.
"Deal with them yourself, Harvey." He replied, "You're more
than capable. What have you done with
Sirius?" Harvey shook his head.
"He's no fun at all." He replied, "He's in the study
Firetalking. Val tried to get him in
the water, but he said he had to work. I'll go get him for you." The
young man took off into the house.
"Wise man." was Neville's succinct reply, but whether he was
talking about Sirius or Harvey was unclear. By this time the two girls had climbed out of the pool and were
squeezing water out of their hair. Neville grinned broadly.
"Girls," he began, "Meet Harry and Ron – a couple of English
wizards over on business." The two
girls, one a brunette, the other a blonde, smiled in a friendly fashion.
"Harry, Ron," continued Neville, "Meet Valerie and
Sabrina. Along with Harvey, they're my
housemates."
"Hi!" said the blonde fixing her hair into a very wet
ponytail, "Would you two like some Sangria? We've just made a fresh jug." Ron smiled broadly.
"I couldn't think of anything I'd like better." He said
gallantly, throwing down his rucksack and making for a sun lounger. Harry, feeling rather overdressed in chinos
and a baggy shirt, followed rather more slowly, gazing around at the enormous
garden and wondering how on earth Neville had managed to land so firmly on his
feet.
"The house belongs to me," said a voice to his right. "And Sirius will be with us just as soon as
he's finished Firetalking." Harry
turned sharply to see Harvey holding out a long glass of Sangria.
"Don't worry – it's very weak." He grinned at Harry's
perplexed expression and shook his head.
"If you're wondering, no I don't have a mind-reading
talent. In fact, I'm not even a
wizard. Your face just gave it
away!" Harry's eyebrows rose even
further.
"I'm Harvey, by the way." Harry shook the outstretched
hand. "Valerie and I are muggles,
Sabrina's the witch. Neville and I met
up when I needed a financial adviser. I'd just inherited a large amount of money and apart from buying and
equipping this house, I didn't have an inkling what to do with it. Sabrina's Aunt Hilda recommended Gringotts –
I'd never even heard of them before – and I became one of Neville's
clients. Of course, when he and Sabrina
met, they recognised each other for what they were immediately, and after that
it just seemed logical for him to move in with us." Harry nodded and looked around the garden admiringly.
"I'd say Neville's been incredibly lucky to have found a
home like this." He replied, "It reminds me a little of my house in St. John's
Wood, although they have nothing in common architecturally." Harvey shrugged.
"This house is under a Benevolence Charm." he said,
shrugged, "So Sabrina tells me – I wouldn't have a clue. Perhaps yours is too." Harry smiled wryly.
"It's certainly under a number of charms, yes." He replied,
but was prevented from explaining any further by the sudden appearance of a
grinning Sirius.
"Harry!" he exclaimed, striding over the patio to envelope
the smaller man in a bear-hug, "At last! I seem to have been waiting for you for weeks." Harry returned the embrace, slapping his
Godfather on the shoulder. Sirius then
greeted Ron in much the same way, enquiring kindly about Hermione and his
parents. He accepted a glass of Sangria
from Harvey, but seemed unwilling to settle down for a congenial chat. As soon as he could, he cornered Harry.
"I've just been Firetalking with Tiberius Brooks, one of
Fudge's assistants." He told him, "I'm more than a little concerned at the
amount of attention your trip is attracting. It's not usual for something like this to cause Ministry Officials to
jump on my coattails quite so frequently." He paused and took a pull of his drink.
"I'm under instructions to get you and Ron into Yucatan as
soon as possible, preferably within the next two days." He said, "I've told them
in no uncertain terms that I'll get the show on the road when and if I consider
it to be ready, but they're not letting go. Harry, I'm going to have to begin the briefing this evening – now, in
fact. At least then Ron can be
appraised of the full details of what we're after and why, before we leave for
Uinal."
*********************************************
"Ron, has Harry told you about the artefact you'll be
searching for?" Ron shrugged. They had regretfully retired into Neville's
study for a preliminary briefing.
"Well, other than its name – Leandra's Ewer – and the fact
that it's a scrying device, well no." He scratched his head, "Why is there so much high level interest in it,
Sirius?" The older man pursed his lips.
"To be honest, I'm really not sure." He replied. "If it's all it's cracked up to be, it's
certainly a useful tool, but it's not going to single-handedly rid the world of
Dark Magic, or anything of that nature." Harry stirred.
"Why don't I give Ron a very brief description of the
thing?" he suggested, "After all, I've been chasing it for years and I've read
all the reports from Fred and George, plus anything even vaguely connected with
its whereabouts over the last year or so." Sirius nodded for him to go ahead. Harry paused, gathering his thoughts, then turned to Ron.
"Leandra's Ewer is described as a small, shallow basin
intricately carved from a single piece of marble which, when filled with water,
can be used by a Seer to accurately predict the future – under certain circumstances."
He began. Ron gave a low whistle.
"Well, it's not surprising there's a lot of fuss about it."
He replied, "An accurate divining tool? I don't think there's ever been such a thing before, has there?" Harry held up a hand, a faint smile on his
face.
"I only said it was accurate under certain circumstances."
He explained, "In order to obtain a precise forecast, the motives of the
would-be Seer have to be totally without guile or self-interest." He grinned at Ron's disappointed
expression. "Leandra herself was one of
the ancient Mayan wizards who lived in Mexico before the invasion of the
Toltecs. She had the assistance of a
number of others, but in the end she used her own power to endow the artefact. The effort of creating it drained the magic
out of her and she died not long afterwards, but the Ewer remained in her
family's possession. According to our
information it still survives."
"But how?" asked Ron, "I mean, this was not just hundreds
but thousands of years ago. Very little
has ever come to us from so far back in history." Harry was nodding.
"I know, Ron, and that's partly what makes this so
exciting. Now, it's well documented
that before Leandra died, she used the Ewer to scry the future of the Mayan
wizards. Consequently, they were warned
of the coming Toltec invasion (around 800AD) and could make some provision for
the crisis. They had some success in
warning the Mayan muggles – relations between muggles and wizards were much
more tolerant than today – and some groups chose to become nomadic, moving
south into Quintana Roo and on through Central America. The small tribe of wizards and muggles who
had charge of Leandra's Ewer made other arrangements to avoid the invaders:
they built an entire city in the virgin rainforest." Harry's face was rapt.
"They began construction in a matter of months, muggles and
wizards working together," He said, almost reverently, "And they designed it to
be self-supporting so that they would need no connection with the outside
world. They wanted no contamination
from the invading Toltecs, you see." Ron shivered slightly.
"Sounds a bit like you-know-who's creed regarding
purebloods." But Harry wasn't
listening.
"Think of it, Ron!" he said, his eyes alight, "A city, built
by Mayan wizards in the rainforest. Just imagine the secrets it might hold!" Ron was puzzled.
"How can we be so sure that Leandra's Ewer was ever taken
there?" he asked. Sirius leaned forward
in his chair.
"The information that our operatives, including Fred and
George, have managed to amass over the years points conclusively to a place
known as Chinga'an as the final destination of the artefact." He began "It
translates literally as "broken" in the ancient Mayan language. All our information kept bringing up this
name over and over again. No one knew
what it meant, until the final evidence from George connected it indisputably
with a Mexican legend of a hidden magical city." Ron still looked puzzled.
"So we're going in search of a legend? Sirius, I thought you said we had a definite
destination?" he replied, "And if it's so ruined as to merit the name "Broken",
what are we likely to find there? It
sounds like a wild goose chase to me." Sirius exchanged a glance with Harry.
"We had a windfall," He explained, "An enormous piece of
luck. Not only did George's evidence
identifying the place turn up at just the right moment, we also happened upon
some vital information concerning its position from the locals. A group of Uinal natives came upon the hidden
city quite by chance while on a completely unrelated venture in the
forest. One of them happened to be not
only a skilled woodsman but also magically orientated: we'll meet up in the
morning and you'll know the rest then. Okay, I suggest we break here and get some sleep – Neville's arranged a
room for you and there's food in the kitchen. We'll be off early tomorrow to meet a couple of people, check on
equipment, etc. We'll be Porting to
Merida for that, and then on to Uinal the following day." But Ron was still looking thoughtful.
"Harry, Chinga'an is the ancient name for the city,
right?" Harry nodded, "So why call a
new city something that means "broken"? It doesn't make sense."
"Broken, not as in ruined, Ron, as in unfinished." Harry
took up the tale. "All the Maya
abandoned their cities around 850 AD, muggles and wizards alike, and Chinga'an
was simply deserted half-built. The
sudden exodus has never been fully explained. There is no evidence for disease or genocide. The Toltecs were an invading force, yes – but in many cases they
didn't even need to fight at all, merely to walk in and take over a completely
deserted city. It must have been
weird."
**************************************************
Harry was slowly sipping cola through a straw as he sat at a
street café watching locals and tourists stroll by. Merida was something of a conundrum, he pondered. It was a Spanish-style city built on Mayan
ruins, and unlike tourist-dominated Cancun, had retained much of its Euro-Mex
flavour. However, it was still a modern
city with excellent communications, and efficiently run, despite having more
than one million inhabitants. Harry
smiled as Sirius paced up and down looking at his watch for the thirtieth time,
and exchanged a glance with Ron. His
red-haired companion gestured towards the street with his glass.
"Nice place." He commented, "They call it 'The White City',
you know – because it's so incredibly clean." Harry nodded and was about to reply when Sirius gave an exclamation.
"About time!" he muttered, darting towards an approaching
figure in the crowd. A minute or two
later he return to Harry and Ron followed by a black-haired figure whose
femininity even loose-fitting fatigues could not hide. The two men automatically rose from the
table.
"Tell me this isn't our guide, Harry." murmured Ron, his
eyes popping out of his head. "Tell me I'm hallucinating." Harry had no time to answer, for Sirius and
the unknown woman had sat down at the table. Sirius gestured to her.
"Harry, Ron, this is Katia Valentin, the best professional
guide in the business. Katia, Harry
Potter and Ron Weasley." They shook
hands briefly. Ron's eyes widened
slightly at the strength in those slender-looking hands.
"Katia is a native of Uinal." Sirius explained, "She is very well known as an explorer and
hunter, with the added bonus that she knows the land around the town like the
back of her hand."
"I grew up in the forest, my family has never left
Uinal. I was the first of them to leave
for the city, but even I return regularly. Once the forest is in your blood, it will never let you go." Her voice was husky and heavily accented,
but her English was smooth and idiomatic. Harry was later to learn that she spoke many languages fluently, including
several ethnic dialects, but at that time he could focus on nothing but the
exotic music of her voice, and the dark vibrancy of her eyes.
"Harry? Harry!" he
became aware of Ron nudging him sharply and looked up to see that Sirius had
risen from the table.
"We're going to Miss Valentin's office." He explained,
"Weren't you listening to Sirius? She
needs to check over the list of our gear and make a few additions. Let's hope it's all been delivered in one
piece."
"Let's hope it's still there!" added Harry fervently,
pushing his chair under the table and following the others.
As they walked the attractive streets of Merida, Harry found
himself gazing uncontrollably at the guide, Katia. Striking she certainly was, with high cheekbones, smooth brown
skin and a full, mobile mouth, but there was something else about her. Something that Harry, had he been in any
state of mind to be analytical, might possibly have recognised as familiar, a
long time ago, at a certain Quidditch match …
They reached Katia's office in a very short time. It was at the top of several flights of very
stuffy stairs – a single room outfitted with very little in the way of
furniture, but full to the brim with equipment, maps, a huge filing cabinet and
framed photographs on the walls of some of her exploits. Harry saw to his astonishment, a group
containing a much younger Minister Fudge, beaming into the camera, standing
next to an unsmiling Katia. The figure
waved furiously at them out of the photograph and smiled even wider.
A number of metallic sounds alerted him that business had
begun. Katia closed the top draw of her
filing cabinet, deposited a number of large objects on the desktop and sat
down, motioning the others to pull up chairs. There were only two chairs – Harry elected to perch on the edge of the
desk.
"Okay," she began, "These are all types of gun you could
find in the hands of Mexican outlaws, some of whom we may very well run into in
the forest. Does either of you know how
to use firearms?" Harry and Ron
exchanged glances, then Ron nodded slowly.
"I took a course about a year ago." He said, reluctantly, "I
didn't enjoy it much."
"You're not supposed to." she replied flatly, and pointed to
the shotgun. "Do you know how to used
that?" Ron nodded again. "Show
me." He gasped.
"What, in this office?"
"I don't mean fire it – just show me you know how to use
it." Dubiously, Ron picked up the
weapon keeping the muzzle pointed firmly at the floor. He broke open the action and gasped on
finding a cartridge still in the chamber. Carefully he removed it, checked the bore to make sure there were no
more surprises, then closed the weapon, making sure it was on safety. The eyes he turned to Katia were outraged.
"Was that some sort of test, or are you just a careless
owner?" he demanded, "If I'd been a rank tyro like Harry, I could have had us
all in hospital!" She smiled ironically
at his discomfiture, picked up the cartridge and threw it into the filing
cabinet.
"A blank," she explained, "Not even primed. You could shoot on that all day, baby,
without disturbing anyone but yourself." Ron flushed with embarrassment. She took the shotgun from his unresponsive hands with total unconcern at
the anger and mortification in his face.
"Okay, Sirius." she continued, with a small half smile,
"What about this one?" She gestured to
another shotgun. Sirius examined it but
made no move to take hold of it or touch it in any way. He shook his head.
"You and I both know, Katia, that I have a passing
acquaintance with weapons of all kinds," he began, "And that one I will not
touch under any circumstances." For a
moment their eyes locked, then she shrugged.
"That is your loss," she replied, "But at least, all of you,
make sure you recognise it should you see it again. This is a sawn-off shotgun. It is similar to the one you saw before, but as you can see, the barrel
is a lot shorter. All you need to know
about this mother is, if you see one pointing at you, start saying your
prayers." She picked up the gun.
"That weapon is illegal." Harry spoke for the first
time. Katia continued as though she
hadn't heard.
"Where did you get this thing?" Harry's voice became more insistent. Slowly, the girl looked up.
"These weapons are not common," she began quietly, "But the
trash who prey on travellers in the forest have a number of them. A year ago, this one was pointed at me from
behind a tree."
"What happened?" She
shrugged.
"I was quicker." Calmly, she put the two shotguns back into the draw of her filing
cabinet and locked it.
As Katia started on handguns, Ron began to feel as though he
was in some strange alternate universe where cowboys and Indians were still
shooting at each other, and law and justice were matters of opinion.
"What is the purpose behind this exercise?" he finally found
himself asking. Katia stopped speaking
and looked at him questioningly.
"I mean, we're wizards, right? And I'm assuming that you're a witch, although I confess I don't
remember coming across you at school." Katia's eyes glittered, but she let him finish.
"Why is any of us going into the forest armed with muggle
guns when all we really need are our wands?" The woman laid down the handgun she had been demonstrating and leaned
over the desk towards Ron.
"We are studying weapons for two reasons." She began softly,
"Firstly, it is important to know what you will be facing if we run into any
trouble. I can assure you that however
fast your knockout curse is, it won't save you from a point blank shotgun blast. Secondly," her eyes glittered again, "If we
are obliged to leave any casualties or fatalities behind us, it is best if they
are attributable to muggle origins. I
know the law enforcement around these parts. A dead man with signs of cursing, or even without a mark on him, would
have them jumping up and down with excitement. A man with a bullet in his back would be lucky to get buried."
***********************************************
Harry, Ron, Sirius and Katia spent what was left of the evening
after the briefing having a meal in their hotel restaurant and repairing to the
bar for further discussions. The air
was thick with cigarette smoke and the day's heat, and Harry found his eyes
closing. Ron kept a wary eye on the
woman. She appeared to be well-known
wherever she went, and this evening she was cruising her way around the various
tables and knots of conversation, tuning in on the latest gossip, renewing old
acquaintances. He did not know what to
make of her, he was certain he could not trust her, but she seemed to know the
business. She had examined their
equipment list, nodding at the additions from Tim Cyu, but had struck out most
of their items of clothing.
"These will be worse than useless." she told them, "I will
have better stuff delivered to your hotel."
"Why is this stuff no good?" bristled Ron, "Bogsworthy &
Trunks told me it was state of the art." Katia made a derisive noise.
"Wizards should know better." she told him, "English
gentlemen's outfitters! A relic from the
days of the muggle empire. The boots
are okay as far as they go, but you really need a good Anti-Blister potion in
the leather. It's too late to treat
yours – we'll have to get new ones. Your fatigues we can do something about, if you prefer. I will put a Thermostat charm on all of them
– that should see to it. You only have
the standard Insect-Repelling Potions – I will provide you with the local
supplements." Various other items
followed, then she turned to them with the first real smile they had seen.
"I'm relieved to see that you have left your broomsticks at
home." she told them, "You English wizards still use such things – it's hard to
believe! Still, your motorised raft is
more efficient than anything I could suggest, so you can't be all bad."
Ron clenched his fist at the memory. Why did her obvious superiority rankle so
much? He looked over to the bar. Katia was standing in the doorway nearby
scanning the large room, obviously looking for someone. As he watched, Sirius approached from behind
her and said something in her ear. She
turned sharply and replied, but despite being able to lipread, Ron could not
catch the drift: he suspected she was speaking in a language unknown to him. Sirius's face darkened and he spoke again,
this time more insistently. Katia's
face twisted in anger. She spat
something back at Sirius and turned to walk away, but he caught her upper arm
and pulled her to within a few inches of his face. Despite the difference in height and his menacing attitude, Katia
did not look at all phased as she stared him down. Finally, Sirius relaxed his hold and she slipped out of his
grasp, away into the night like a cat. What
was going on there? Wondered Ron,
drumming his fingers on the table. He
glanced at his watch and yawned, then shook Harry by the shoulder.
"Come on, mate, time for some shut-eye." Harry prised his eyes open, gazed at Ron
uncomprehendingly, then realised where he was. He stretched his shoulders, wincing at the muscle strain, then followed
Ron to their room.
**************************************************
Harry was trying to Firetalk with Ginny, but her image kept
flickering and losing definition.
"Come through." Harry was saying to her, "Take my hand and
come to me. No one will miss you for a
few hours." The Ginny in the fire
smiled and extended her hand, but Harry did not take it. He found himself kneeling on the hearthrug
looking up towards a door which slowly opened. Katia slid into the room, dressed in a black cloud which hid her body
and made her glide a little way above the floor.
"Come with me, Harry." she said, holding out a hand, "Sirius
is waiting. We need to go." Harry looked back into the fireplace, but
Ginny had disappeared. He put his hand
into the flames …
… and sat up abruptly in bed, eyes wide open. There was someone in the room! Quickly, he looked over to Ron's bed and was relieved to see his
red-haired friend still slumbering peacefully. Harry swung his legs out of bed and padded softly over to the door –
locked. He tried the bathroom –
nothing, window secured. Thoughtfully,
he investigated the latch on the balcony door and discovered that although it
was locked, it was so flimsy as to be almost useless. With the uncomfortable feeling of locking the stable door after
the horse had packed, turned off the water and had the removal men in, he
produced his wand and tapped the door whispering Cancelliatus, instantly
creating a barrier to entry. Harry got
back into bed and tried to compose himself to sleep again, but it was a long
time before his eyes closed.
"Sleep well?" was Ron's first good-natured greeting of the
day. Harry furrowed his brow.
"Well, no, not exactly." His friend smiled sympathetically.
"No, I never do on the first night away from home." He agreed,
"Night before last was absolutely miserable, but last night was okay." Harry paused, then took the plunge.
"You weren't – disturbed by anything last night then?" Ron stared in surprise.
"No, I told you." He replied. "I slept like a log. Why?
Were you?"
"I'm not sure." Harry was rubbing at the stubble on his chin, debating whether to shave
or not on this trip. He told Ron as
much as he could remember about the dream and the subsequent conviction that
someone had been in the room with them. Ron listened patiently but smiled knowingly at the end of Harry's
recital.
"Auror-training gives one incredibly taut reflexes." He
explained, "If anyone had come into the room, I would have known about it,
don't you worry." Unless you were
ensorcelled or drugged mused Harry, reflectively. Still, there was little they could do about it now.
Breakfast over, dressed in the Coolcharm-impregnated
fatigues, they waited outside the hotel for Sirius who arrived a few minutes
later on foot.
"We'll go straight to Katia's office." he told them, "I've
got the portkey, but we should all go together." However, when they got there they were greeted by a fiery message
in the air over her desk to the effect that she had already apparated ahead of
them to Uinal to assemble the gear, and would meet them at HQ. Sirius shrugged and smiled grimly.
"She's a law unto herself, I'm afraid." He told them, then
with an awkward little cough and a strange expression on his face, he
continued.
"Katia and I go back a long way." He told them, "On a
professional level, she's just as good as she says she is – probably
better. Totally reliable, dependable in
a crisis, well able to defend herself and others, clever and streetsmart. However, I'd caution either of you from
getting, well, close to her in any way." Ron grinned wickedly.
"Oh? Done some time
with her, have you Sirius? Hmm, I
wouldn't have thought you were her type." Sirius didn't smile.
"It's not funny, Ron." He replied, "You don't know what
she's capable of – I do. I'd advise
both of you to keep her at a distance, if you know what's good for you." Ron patted Sirius's shoulder.
"Calm down, nothing like that's going to happen." He said,
only semi-seriously, "Besides, we're both married – well, I am and Harry's as good
as. We're not in the market for
crumpet, just for getting the job done." Sirius took a long look at both of them, still not entirely satisfied. Then he sighed.
"Okay, don't say I didn't warn you." He said, finally.
"Just, please don't underestimate her, that's all." And with that, Sirius produced what looked like a mobile phone
from his pocket: the portkey. He
gestured them into a quiet street,
"Let's get out of sight before we use this thing." He said,
"These people are a superstitious lot – we don't want to attract any more
attention than we already have." He
took out his wand and gestured to them to take hold of his arms.
"Brace yourselves." He told them, and the world abruptly
changed.
As soon they had recovered sufficiently from the jump, the
first thing they laid eyes on was Katia, leaning nonchalantly against the side
of a large jeep, chewing a piece of grass. On seeing them, she threw it aside and tossed two bundles at Ron and
Harry.
"Boots." She told them succinctly, "You can leave your old
ones in the house." They glanced around
to see what looked like a petrol station, but on closer inspection was merely a
private dwelling.
"At least they fit." commented Ron, stamping his feet in
approval, "Now all we need is for the Anti-Blister charm to actually
work!" Sirius came over to give them
their final instructions.
"This is HQ for the duration of this quest." He told them,
gesturing to the house. "I'm going to
be here round the clock for contact by whatever means you care to use, magic or
muggle. There are several muggle
vehicles here and enough fuel to keep us going for six months, should they be
necessary. I'll have backup of sorts
from the local network, and I'll be in constant communication with the Ministry
in London. Oh, just one more
thing." He fished in his pocket and
pulled out a small black object with a clip on the back. This he handed to Ron.
"It's a Homing Beacon." He explained. "Pin it anywhere on your gear, activate it
with the word Consequor and you can be traced anywhere within a fifty
mile radius. There's one for Harry
too." The two wizards pinned them on to
their clothing, shook hands with Sirius and, throwing their rucksacks into the
back of the jeep, swung aboard. Katia
slid into the driving seat and put the keys in the ignition. Ron frowned.
"You're not driving this thing, are you?" he said, then
wished he'd kept quiet. She turned
scornful eyes on him and laughed derisively.
"Have you ever driven in the forest?" she demanded, without
waiting for an answer, "I will get us many miles further in the right direction
than either of you ever could. You will
thank me for that when you realise how hard it can be to walk in the forest." The jeep took off along the dusty road
leaving Sirius standing alone, shading his eyes from the sun.
