Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews, it's encouraging since I wasn't so
sure about this fic!
Disclaimer: See part one.
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A dead weight settled on his stomach, and Harry sent a prayer up to whoever was listening that he was only *imagining* that his daughter had woken him up on Sunday morning before the sun had risen. He risked opening his eyes. Nathalie was sitting on him, her black hair coming out of the ponytail.
"You forgot to unshrink my toothbrush," she announced. "I need to brush my teeth, they feel icky."
He stared blankly at her. "Nathalie, it's -" he glanced at the clock on the bedside table, "Merlin, it's five-thirty. Couldn't you have waited until I woke up? You haven't had breakfast yet, anyway."
"Grandpapa came and told me to wake you," Nathalie said innocently, though a twinkle in her silvery-grey eyes betrayed her. "Grandmamma said that you shouldn't lie in on Sunday, even *if* nobody is doing anything."
Harry groaned, and stuck his head under a pillow. "Sometimes I rue the day," he muttered childishly. *Which day* a small voice in his mind poked. *There were several.*
Then his daughter's words sunk in, and he lifted the pillow. "If it's Sunday," he began, "how did you talk to them?" Nathalie's eyes widened as she found herself caught out. The little finger of her right hand found its way to her mouth and she sucked on it. "Nathalie, are you or are you not nine years old?" With a pout she removed her hand, and defiantly dried it on his bedcovers. Harry raised an eyebrow, and she wriggled off his stomach, nestling her head against his chest.
"You just wanted to climb into my bed, didn't you?" Harry demanded. She nodded, a little sleepily. "Oh, Nathalie." He pulled her closer to him, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Go back to sleep, cherie."
She did so quickly, but Harry lay awake, gazing at his daughter and remembering...remembering...
"Stop that, Harry," came a laughing voice from the corner of the room. "You'll remember yourself into the grave."
"Yes, Mum," Harry murmured dutifully. Then he opened his eyes and sat up, shifting Nathalie so that she was lying on the bed instead of him. "Mum?"
Lily gave him a half-smile from the corner of the room. "Yes, Harry?"
"But the blue blazes are you doing here?" he thundered. "It's *Sunday*! You're - you - "
"Things are...changing, Harry," she said uncomfortably. "Hush, you'll wake up Nathalie."
Harry muttered a string of expletives under his breath that would have made Lily blush if she had heard them; she wisely chose not to. Finally he shook his head. "Mum...what things are changing? You're here on a Sunday, that's...that's near impossible!"
"But not actually impossible," she reminded him gently. "Others have done it before, and I had to warn you, darling."
"Warn me about what?" he asked slowly. Unfortunately, Nathalie chose that moment to wake up. She opened her eyes, yawned in a way that Harry would have found adorable in other circumstances, and sat up.
"Grandmamma!" she exclaimed. "You said you weren't coming till Monday!"
Lily smiled tenderly at her granddaughter. "I know, Nathalie, but there was a change of plans." She met Harry's eyes again. "I have to go, James is calling me back - that means I've run out of time, the Others have realised what I'm doing. I'll try to come back tomorrow, but Harry - be careful, darling. They're..."
Her voice faded away as she did, and Harry frowned thoughtfully. Something that Lily had said hadn't fit in with everything else, but he didn't know what.
*Oh well,* he thought grimly after a moment, *I suppose I'll find out soon enough - after all, I'll be going down into the crypts tomorrow. Maybe they'll know what Mum was on about.*
"I'm hungry," Nathalie announced. "Can we have pain au chocolat, since it's Sunday?"
Harry groaned, and tumbled out of bed. "Come on then, Miss Energetic. Let's go have breakfast - and then you and I will have a lesson, since you haven't had one in days."
"Good," Nathalie said decisively. "And then can we go to the Eiffel Tower?"
*This is going to be a long day,* Harry decided, grabbing his ring from the bedside table and slipping it onto his finger. *Thank Merlin she might actually get to bed on time tonight.*
Several hours later, when the local church bells had told the district that it was nine o'clock, and Harry had proclaimed that he might actually be awake enough to enjoy the view from the top of France's most famous monument, Nathalie was dragging him along the wide boulevard that led up to the Eiffel Tower.
"Papa, it's huge!" she exclaimed. "Can we really go right up to the top? Can we? And do we have to walk all the way up there?" Harry gave here a rare smile.
"Yes, we can really go right up to the top," he confirmed. "And no, we don't have to walk all the way up there - there's a lift."
Her small face was alight with happiness, and he found himself wishing that he could give her such happiness more often. But no, he knew that was impossible. He knew that the Italians had nearly caught up to them at the train station the other day, and he was certain that they had contacted the French Aurors here, to tell them that he and his daughter were in France, probably in Paris.
They could not stay here long, and yet he could not leave without the information he had come for.
But he could do nothing about that information today, so he resolved to enjoy what little time he had today to spend making Nathalie happy.
Starting with an ice-cream from that café over there.
"Come on, Nathalie," he said, steering her away from the huge queues of people waiting to climb the Eiffel Tower, "let's have an ice-cream first."
"Really?" she whispered, too amazed at the thought to squeal as she normally might have. "Can I...can I have a chocolate ice-cream?"
She was surprised by the strange expression on Harry's face, for Harry was berating himself that his daughter should be excited at an ice-cream.
*I thought*, he snapped at himself, *that I was going to bring her up differently to the way I was brought up?* Then he nodded at Nathalie.
"You can have whatever you like," he promised. *Anything at all, cherie, to make up for the way you must lead your life.* "You can have three scoops, and chocolate sprinkles, and after we've been up the Eiffel Tower I'll take you around Paris," he continued. "Today, cherie, we will have fun."
He was being foolish, and he knew it. *I will regret this later,* he mused. *They'll get closer. But I'll be damned if I let my daughter come to Paris and not see the sights.*
They entered the small café, and Harry swiftly bought Nathalie the largest ice-cream sundae the place sold. They sat down at a table outside the café, and he sipped coffee whilst she slowly enjoyed every single lick of her treat.
"Papa, have you been to Paris before?" Nathalie wanted to know after a while, when the sundae had greatly diminished in size and she had noticed her father watching the passers-by a little wistfully. Harry turned his attention to her and finished his coffee.
"Yes, cherie," he replied. "I've been here...a few years before you were born."
"Tell me?" she asked hopefully. Harry hesitated, and she pouted a little. Harry sighed, and she knew she had won.
"Alright," he agreed. "But you can have it as a bedtime story, and not now, agreed?"
"Agreed," Nathalie said quickly, before he could change his mind. He gazed at her for a moment before shaking his head in amusement.
"Finish up your ice-cream, Nathalie, and then we'll go up the Tower," he told her. She smiled, her eyes lighting up, and he suppressed a wince.
*Nine years she's been in my life - she's been my life,* he berated himself, *and I still haven't got used to those eyes...*
An hour later they were at the top of the Eiffel Tower, Harry with a firm grip on Nathalie - he'd had experiences with her love of heights when he'd taken her up the Leaning Tower of Pisa and she'd tried to fly off it. Nathalie gazed over Paris with a rapture that made the tourists around them smile to see it. Harry watched his daughter and gazed at Paris in turns.
He wished he hadn't said that he'd bring Nathalie up here. It was disturbing, being up here when the last time he'd been up here had been with -
"Nathalie, look," he said, pointing across the city. "That's Sacre Coeur; if you're good, I'll take you there later." She grinned, then her grin faded to be replaced by mild puzzlement. She tugged on Harry's hand, bringing him down to her level.
"What is it, cherie?" he asked her quickly. 'What's wrong?"
"I think that man over there is a wizard," she told him thoughtfully. "Is he?"
Harry straightened quickly, and looked to where Nathalie had indicated. He almost choked.
"Come, Nathalie," he said hurriedly. 'We have to leave. Now." Nathalie, used to such instructions, followed him readily through the crowds towards the lift, but the people who had smiled indulgently at Nathalie now frowned, and didn't move as quickly as they otherwise might.
"Pardon, pardon," Harry kept saying, but it was to no avail, the crowds were too thick. Nathalie struggled to keep hold of his hand, but suddenly a large man pushed past her, and she was knocked to the floor with a wail.
Harry darted back to her, but someone was already there. The man who met his eyes did so with shock and disbelief, but Harry spared him no time to say anything. He grabbed Nathalie's hand and Apparated to their rented flat.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
To be continued.
Disclaimer: See part one.
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A dead weight settled on his stomach, and Harry sent a prayer up to whoever was listening that he was only *imagining* that his daughter had woken him up on Sunday morning before the sun had risen. He risked opening his eyes. Nathalie was sitting on him, her black hair coming out of the ponytail.
"You forgot to unshrink my toothbrush," she announced. "I need to brush my teeth, they feel icky."
He stared blankly at her. "Nathalie, it's -" he glanced at the clock on the bedside table, "Merlin, it's five-thirty. Couldn't you have waited until I woke up? You haven't had breakfast yet, anyway."
"Grandpapa came and told me to wake you," Nathalie said innocently, though a twinkle in her silvery-grey eyes betrayed her. "Grandmamma said that you shouldn't lie in on Sunday, even *if* nobody is doing anything."
Harry groaned, and stuck his head under a pillow. "Sometimes I rue the day," he muttered childishly. *Which day* a small voice in his mind poked. *There were several.*
Then his daughter's words sunk in, and he lifted the pillow. "If it's Sunday," he began, "how did you talk to them?" Nathalie's eyes widened as she found herself caught out. The little finger of her right hand found its way to her mouth and she sucked on it. "Nathalie, are you or are you not nine years old?" With a pout she removed her hand, and defiantly dried it on his bedcovers. Harry raised an eyebrow, and she wriggled off his stomach, nestling her head against his chest.
"You just wanted to climb into my bed, didn't you?" Harry demanded. She nodded, a little sleepily. "Oh, Nathalie." He pulled her closer to him, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Go back to sleep, cherie."
She did so quickly, but Harry lay awake, gazing at his daughter and remembering...remembering...
"Stop that, Harry," came a laughing voice from the corner of the room. "You'll remember yourself into the grave."
"Yes, Mum," Harry murmured dutifully. Then he opened his eyes and sat up, shifting Nathalie so that she was lying on the bed instead of him. "Mum?"
Lily gave him a half-smile from the corner of the room. "Yes, Harry?"
"But the blue blazes are you doing here?" he thundered. "It's *Sunday*! You're - you - "
"Things are...changing, Harry," she said uncomfortably. "Hush, you'll wake up Nathalie."
Harry muttered a string of expletives under his breath that would have made Lily blush if she had heard them; she wisely chose not to. Finally he shook his head. "Mum...what things are changing? You're here on a Sunday, that's...that's near impossible!"
"But not actually impossible," she reminded him gently. "Others have done it before, and I had to warn you, darling."
"Warn me about what?" he asked slowly. Unfortunately, Nathalie chose that moment to wake up. She opened her eyes, yawned in a way that Harry would have found adorable in other circumstances, and sat up.
"Grandmamma!" she exclaimed. "You said you weren't coming till Monday!"
Lily smiled tenderly at her granddaughter. "I know, Nathalie, but there was a change of plans." She met Harry's eyes again. "I have to go, James is calling me back - that means I've run out of time, the Others have realised what I'm doing. I'll try to come back tomorrow, but Harry - be careful, darling. They're..."
Her voice faded away as she did, and Harry frowned thoughtfully. Something that Lily had said hadn't fit in with everything else, but he didn't know what.
*Oh well,* he thought grimly after a moment, *I suppose I'll find out soon enough - after all, I'll be going down into the crypts tomorrow. Maybe they'll know what Mum was on about.*
"I'm hungry," Nathalie announced. "Can we have pain au chocolat, since it's Sunday?"
Harry groaned, and tumbled out of bed. "Come on then, Miss Energetic. Let's go have breakfast - and then you and I will have a lesson, since you haven't had one in days."
"Good," Nathalie said decisively. "And then can we go to the Eiffel Tower?"
*This is going to be a long day,* Harry decided, grabbing his ring from the bedside table and slipping it onto his finger. *Thank Merlin she might actually get to bed on time tonight.*
Several hours later, when the local church bells had told the district that it was nine o'clock, and Harry had proclaimed that he might actually be awake enough to enjoy the view from the top of France's most famous monument, Nathalie was dragging him along the wide boulevard that led up to the Eiffel Tower.
"Papa, it's huge!" she exclaimed. "Can we really go right up to the top? Can we? And do we have to walk all the way up there?" Harry gave here a rare smile.
"Yes, we can really go right up to the top," he confirmed. "And no, we don't have to walk all the way up there - there's a lift."
Her small face was alight with happiness, and he found himself wishing that he could give her such happiness more often. But no, he knew that was impossible. He knew that the Italians had nearly caught up to them at the train station the other day, and he was certain that they had contacted the French Aurors here, to tell them that he and his daughter were in France, probably in Paris.
They could not stay here long, and yet he could not leave without the information he had come for.
But he could do nothing about that information today, so he resolved to enjoy what little time he had today to spend making Nathalie happy.
Starting with an ice-cream from that café over there.
"Come on, Nathalie," he said, steering her away from the huge queues of people waiting to climb the Eiffel Tower, "let's have an ice-cream first."
"Really?" she whispered, too amazed at the thought to squeal as she normally might have. "Can I...can I have a chocolate ice-cream?"
She was surprised by the strange expression on Harry's face, for Harry was berating himself that his daughter should be excited at an ice-cream.
*I thought*, he snapped at himself, *that I was going to bring her up differently to the way I was brought up?* Then he nodded at Nathalie.
"You can have whatever you like," he promised. *Anything at all, cherie, to make up for the way you must lead your life.* "You can have three scoops, and chocolate sprinkles, and after we've been up the Eiffel Tower I'll take you around Paris," he continued. "Today, cherie, we will have fun."
He was being foolish, and he knew it. *I will regret this later,* he mused. *They'll get closer. But I'll be damned if I let my daughter come to Paris and not see the sights.*
They entered the small café, and Harry swiftly bought Nathalie the largest ice-cream sundae the place sold. They sat down at a table outside the café, and he sipped coffee whilst she slowly enjoyed every single lick of her treat.
"Papa, have you been to Paris before?" Nathalie wanted to know after a while, when the sundae had greatly diminished in size and she had noticed her father watching the passers-by a little wistfully. Harry turned his attention to her and finished his coffee.
"Yes, cherie," he replied. "I've been here...a few years before you were born."
"Tell me?" she asked hopefully. Harry hesitated, and she pouted a little. Harry sighed, and she knew she had won.
"Alright," he agreed. "But you can have it as a bedtime story, and not now, agreed?"
"Agreed," Nathalie said quickly, before he could change his mind. He gazed at her for a moment before shaking his head in amusement.
"Finish up your ice-cream, Nathalie, and then we'll go up the Tower," he told her. She smiled, her eyes lighting up, and he suppressed a wince.
*Nine years she's been in my life - she's been my life,* he berated himself, *and I still haven't got used to those eyes...*
An hour later they were at the top of the Eiffel Tower, Harry with a firm grip on Nathalie - he'd had experiences with her love of heights when he'd taken her up the Leaning Tower of Pisa and she'd tried to fly off it. Nathalie gazed over Paris with a rapture that made the tourists around them smile to see it. Harry watched his daughter and gazed at Paris in turns.
He wished he hadn't said that he'd bring Nathalie up here. It was disturbing, being up here when the last time he'd been up here had been with -
"Nathalie, look," he said, pointing across the city. "That's Sacre Coeur; if you're good, I'll take you there later." She grinned, then her grin faded to be replaced by mild puzzlement. She tugged on Harry's hand, bringing him down to her level.
"What is it, cherie?" he asked her quickly. 'What's wrong?"
"I think that man over there is a wizard," she told him thoughtfully. "Is he?"
Harry straightened quickly, and looked to where Nathalie had indicated. He almost choked.
"Come, Nathalie," he said hurriedly. 'We have to leave. Now." Nathalie, used to such instructions, followed him readily through the crowds towards the lift, but the people who had smiled indulgently at Nathalie now frowned, and didn't move as quickly as they otherwise might.
"Pardon, pardon," Harry kept saying, but it was to no avail, the crowds were too thick. Nathalie struggled to keep hold of his hand, but suddenly a large man pushed past her, and she was knocked to the floor with a wail.
Harry darted back to her, but someone was already there. The man who met his eyes did so with shock and disbelief, but Harry spared him no time to say anything. He grabbed Nathalie's hand and Apparated to their rented flat.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
To be continued.