Chapter Three: Colourblind
Author: Jamsel
Rating: PG
Summary: When three best friends fall apart and leave each other creating three different tales. What happens when they begin to interweave? Perhaps a bit of Romance.
Pairing: Maybe R/Hr
Disclaimer: as someone else wrote. I'm just a fanfic author. JKR owns the characters I just play in her playground
"I am covered in skin.
No one gets to come in.
Pull me out for inside.
I am folded, and unfolded and
Unfolding I am. Colourblind" Counting Crows
Hermione dressed in her black clothing the following night. Because of her breakdown the previous night she was behind schedule. She couldn't afford anymore slip ups. She grabbed her pack and hurried out the door. Slamming the door to her car, once inside she decided to apparate. The car was usually a formality, giving her the outer appearance of a muggle. Shrugging she closed her eyes and with a pop, landed in the exact spot she had turned back the night before.
Slogging through the mud in the forest she came at the museum from the back and pulled out her wand. She whispered a quick incantation and the wall opened just enough for her to wriggle through. It closed behind her. She looked around the room with a groan. The security had been correct. The museum was equipped with a magic security system which detected and magical imbalance in the air. So from now on, she was completely reliant on her muggle skills.
She tip toed through the quiet museum, her senses aware of the security troll (only one) that roamed the entrance hall by night. She found the set of stairs she was looking for and turned the handle. It was locked. She groaned and pulled a bobby pin out of her pocket. She quietly picked the lock and entered the stairwell, tiptoeing. She hurried up the stairs intent on getting this over with. It just seemed more like an obligation now, more so than ever before.
When she reached the right floor she exited and saw the ring glittering at the far end of the room. The room was empty. She, yet again groaned. The extra security that the museum had been boasting about wasn't merely exaggeration. The floor was tiled, some of the tiles were safe, the other bewitched. If she stepped on them she could be subjected to a number of curses that would disable her from leaving.
However she had come prepared. A while ago she'd invented a pair of shoes that had soles to absorb the magic, in this type of situation they were perfect. She slowly stepped on the first tile, than the second. Everyone once in a while she would feel a little shock. By the time she reached the ring her feet were feeling a tad abused. Pulling a glass cutter out of her pocket he cut a hole in the class, reached her hand through and grabbed the ring leaving her traditional spite note in place. Crossing the secure room she hurried outside, careful not to use any magic on the way out.
Another victory she thought, but didn't feel like celebrating. The wedding invitation lay heavily on her mind. She took out a pen and divided it into two halves. Pro and Con. Pro she wrote- I would get to see my friends again. Con- they might hate me. Pro- I would get to see Ron again Con- I would get to see Ron again. She groaned furiously and threw her pen across the room pulling the sheets over her head. It was hopeless. She wanted to go.
Ron stared at the crime scene, furious. The third ring had been stolen the following night. It seemed strange. First, the Ring of Azingnod was taken, then the Ring of Hadind and now the Ring of Stirsu. It just didn't add up. He couldn't figure out what all the rings had in common besides appearance. He began to survey the crime scene looking at each aspect carefully. The anti-magic alarm had been on so the culprit must be either a muggle born wizard or someone with good knowledge of muggle ways. Someone who was fully capable of operating without magic. He still couldn't figure out how the culprit had crossed the floor which was rigged with many different immobilizing spells.
He sighed looking at the case. "Are their any fingerprints?" He asked one of the ministry wizards helping him search the scene. The wizard shook his head and handed him the note that was left in the place of the ring. It read
"The Shadow was here and the Ring of Stirsu no longer is. You figure it out."
Ron stared at the note curiously. The writing seemed familiar. It was a loopy handwriting, very feminine looking, the I's were dotted with circles and the t's were deliberately crossed. Judging by the writing the culprit was female. But that wasn't just it, the writing seemed strangely familiar. Like he was reading something he'd seen before. He pocketed the note and continued to poke around.
He began to sweep the floor looking for anything; a fragment of clothing, a piece of fingernail. Finally, just as he was about to quit he found a single hair. He picked it up and held it up to his face. It was a mousy brown colour with a bit of a wave in it. He wrapped the hair in a magical bubble and placed it with the other evidence. As he prepared to leave one of the wizards ran up to him. "Mr.Weasley sir you might want to read this. I just found it in a book." Ron grabbed the parchment copies the wizard had made it read
"The Ring of Azingod, The Ring of Hadind, The Ring of Stirsu and The Ring of Merritok are among the Eight Rings of Asdoted. Each ring is made of priceless white gold containing unicorn blood and has a letter carved on the inside in very small writing. When place in the correct order the spell out Avada ava; when spoken with the rings present, this curse gives the witch or wizard complete control over any group of wizards/ witches at any time in any place. The only way to prevent it is to keep the rings in separate areas for one they come together, nothing good will occur."
Ron looked up at the Wizard quite alarmed. "Can you get me a complete list of the names and locations of the remaining five rings?" The wizard nodded importantly and hurroed off. He leaned back against the wall. At least he was getting somewhere. He pulled the note out of his pocket and stared hard at the writing. It was so oddly familiar. He knew who it belonged to but it was on the tip of his tongue. He just couldn't remember. Racking his brains he stared at it for another minute. A girl, a smart, muggle born wizard with brown hair. Suddenly, he knew whose writing it was.
It was Hermione's.
Harry taught all of his classes eagerly the next day. He took his students out to face some hinky punks and returned quite a bit happier because they'd all done very well. He sighed watching the Gryffindor trio climb up the stairs and hurried back to his apartments to see if Hedwig had returned with a reply from Sirius yet. As he rounded the corner he bumped into a rather flustered Professor McGonagoll. "Sorry Professor!" he called jogging up the stairs. "Harry, could I have a word?" She asked. He nodded. She too still called him Harry. He liked it better than professor. He stepped into her office and sat down.
"What is it Professor?" he asked sitting down across from her.
"Potter, what are you doing here?" She asked him, eye brows raised.
"What do you mean, Professor?" He asked slightly confused. She'd just called him into her office. She'd asked him to come in, what was wrong?
"Potter, you have a lot of talent. You had an offer from the Wimbourn Wasps right after graduation. You're still young, why don't you take it. You can always return to Hogwarts when you retire and teach, you're good enough at it." Her crinkled eyes were dancing and she smiled. "I really think you should at least try out, I mean Wood is playing for them now and they don't have a Seeker." Harry looked at her thinking about Quidditch. He loved it, maybe it would give him what he needed to move on. He needed to get away from these ghosts of his past and start new. Maybe this was the way. He looked up at McGonagoll with a smile. "When are those tryouts?" The old woman's face broke into a smile. She stood up and shook his hand. Dumbledore would understand. He had a knack for it. Maybe old Professor Snape would get Harry's job. He's good at it.
"One week from today. Start Training Potter." McGonagoll said briskly sitting back down at her desk and opening an essay. Harry nodded at her. She was a great woman, that McGonagoll. With a smile he hurried up the stairs to his apartments.
When he reached them he found the note he'd been waiting for; it was from Sirius. He ripped it open and began to read.
Harry, When I sent Ron and Hermione invitations for my wedding I sent them with a special "Hidden persons Owl" and it took that Owl two months to find Hermione and Ron. I've returned that Owl to the post office so I don't really have an leads about where they are but I know at least she doesn't want to be found. Ron is an auror, this I know and I've heard he just returned and is working on a case somewhere in the country. Be careful Harry, they could've changed for the worse. War affects people in different ways. So I guess Proceed with Caution. I want you at my wedding. Sirius Ps- I bet Hedwig could find them, try and get location's as neither RSVP'd yet.
Harry closed the letter, a little curious, a little intrigued. He decided the draft a quick letter back before he wrote to Ron and Hermione. He trusted that Hedwig would be able to find them okay.
Sirius I hope you're sitting down. I don't know if you remember but the Wimbourn Wasps tried to recruit me for their Quidditch team around graduation and I turned them down because of the war. They're holding tryouts next week in London and under the influence of McGonagoll I've decided to give it a try. My job here is becoming a bit tedious and the dreams are as clear as they were five years ago. I still can't sleep on my own and needed a drugged sleeping draught to put me out. I'm looking for closure and hopefully, with Quidditch, I'll find it. Thanks for the information on Ron and Hermione. I'm going to try and send it out tonight. Harry
Without putting his quill down he switched to another piece of parchment and began to write. By nightfall he'd finished both letters, tied them to Hedwigs legs and threw her out into the night.
Author: Jamsel
Rating: PG
Summary: When three best friends fall apart and leave each other creating three different tales. What happens when they begin to interweave? Perhaps a bit of Romance.
Pairing: Maybe R/Hr
Disclaimer: as someone else wrote. I'm just a fanfic author. JKR owns the characters I just play in her playground
"I am covered in skin.
No one gets to come in.
Pull me out for inside.
I am folded, and unfolded and
Unfolding I am. Colourblind" Counting Crows
Hermione dressed in her black clothing the following night. Because of her breakdown the previous night she was behind schedule. She couldn't afford anymore slip ups. She grabbed her pack and hurried out the door. Slamming the door to her car, once inside she decided to apparate. The car was usually a formality, giving her the outer appearance of a muggle. Shrugging she closed her eyes and with a pop, landed in the exact spot she had turned back the night before.
Slogging through the mud in the forest she came at the museum from the back and pulled out her wand. She whispered a quick incantation and the wall opened just enough for her to wriggle through. It closed behind her. She looked around the room with a groan. The security had been correct. The museum was equipped with a magic security system which detected and magical imbalance in the air. So from now on, she was completely reliant on her muggle skills.
She tip toed through the quiet museum, her senses aware of the security troll (only one) that roamed the entrance hall by night. She found the set of stairs she was looking for and turned the handle. It was locked. She groaned and pulled a bobby pin out of her pocket. She quietly picked the lock and entered the stairwell, tiptoeing. She hurried up the stairs intent on getting this over with. It just seemed more like an obligation now, more so than ever before.
When she reached the right floor she exited and saw the ring glittering at the far end of the room. The room was empty. She, yet again groaned. The extra security that the museum had been boasting about wasn't merely exaggeration. The floor was tiled, some of the tiles were safe, the other bewitched. If she stepped on them she could be subjected to a number of curses that would disable her from leaving.
However she had come prepared. A while ago she'd invented a pair of shoes that had soles to absorb the magic, in this type of situation they were perfect. She slowly stepped on the first tile, than the second. Everyone once in a while she would feel a little shock. By the time she reached the ring her feet were feeling a tad abused. Pulling a glass cutter out of her pocket he cut a hole in the class, reached her hand through and grabbed the ring leaving her traditional spite note in place. Crossing the secure room she hurried outside, careful not to use any magic on the way out.
Another victory she thought, but didn't feel like celebrating. The wedding invitation lay heavily on her mind. She took out a pen and divided it into two halves. Pro and Con. Pro she wrote- I would get to see my friends again. Con- they might hate me. Pro- I would get to see Ron again Con- I would get to see Ron again. She groaned furiously and threw her pen across the room pulling the sheets over her head. It was hopeless. She wanted to go.
Ron stared at the crime scene, furious. The third ring had been stolen the following night. It seemed strange. First, the Ring of Azingnod was taken, then the Ring of Hadind and now the Ring of Stirsu. It just didn't add up. He couldn't figure out what all the rings had in common besides appearance. He began to survey the crime scene looking at each aspect carefully. The anti-magic alarm had been on so the culprit must be either a muggle born wizard or someone with good knowledge of muggle ways. Someone who was fully capable of operating without magic. He still couldn't figure out how the culprit had crossed the floor which was rigged with many different immobilizing spells.
He sighed looking at the case. "Are their any fingerprints?" He asked one of the ministry wizards helping him search the scene. The wizard shook his head and handed him the note that was left in the place of the ring. It read
"The Shadow was here and the Ring of Stirsu no longer is. You figure it out."
Ron stared at the note curiously. The writing seemed familiar. It was a loopy handwriting, very feminine looking, the I's were dotted with circles and the t's were deliberately crossed. Judging by the writing the culprit was female. But that wasn't just it, the writing seemed strangely familiar. Like he was reading something he'd seen before. He pocketed the note and continued to poke around.
He began to sweep the floor looking for anything; a fragment of clothing, a piece of fingernail. Finally, just as he was about to quit he found a single hair. He picked it up and held it up to his face. It was a mousy brown colour with a bit of a wave in it. He wrapped the hair in a magical bubble and placed it with the other evidence. As he prepared to leave one of the wizards ran up to him. "Mr.Weasley sir you might want to read this. I just found it in a book." Ron grabbed the parchment copies the wizard had made it read
"The Ring of Azingod, The Ring of Hadind, The Ring of Stirsu and The Ring of Merritok are among the Eight Rings of Asdoted. Each ring is made of priceless white gold containing unicorn blood and has a letter carved on the inside in very small writing. When place in the correct order the spell out Avada ava; when spoken with the rings present, this curse gives the witch or wizard complete control over any group of wizards/ witches at any time in any place. The only way to prevent it is to keep the rings in separate areas for one they come together, nothing good will occur."
Ron looked up at the Wizard quite alarmed. "Can you get me a complete list of the names and locations of the remaining five rings?" The wizard nodded importantly and hurroed off. He leaned back against the wall. At least he was getting somewhere. He pulled the note out of his pocket and stared hard at the writing. It was so oddly familiar. He knew who it belonged to but it was on the tip of his tongue. He just couldn't remember. Racking his brains he stared at it for another minute. A girl, a smart, muggle born wizard with brown hair. Suddenly, he knew whose writing it was.
It was Hermione's.
Harry taught all of his classes eagerly the next day. He took his students out to face some hinky punks and returned quite a bit happier because they'd all done very well. He sighed watching the Gryffindor trio climb up the stairs and hurried back to his apartments to see if Hedwig had returned with a reply from Sirius yet. As he rounded the corner he bumped into a rather flustered Professor McGonagoll. "Sorry Professor!" he called jogging up the stairs. "Harry, could I have a word?" She asked. He nodded. She too still called him Harry. He liked it better than professor. He stepped into her office and sat down.
"What is it Professor?" he asked sitting down across from her.
"Potter, what are you doing here?" She asked him, eye brows raised.
"What do you mean, Professor?" He asked slightly confused. She'd just called him into her office. She'd asked him to come in, what was wrong?
"Potter, you have a lot of talent. You had an offer from the Wimbourn Wasps right after graduation. You're still young, why don't you take it. You can always return to Hogwarts when you retire and teach, you're good enough at it." Her crinkled eyes were dancing and she smiled. "I really think you should at least try out, I mean Wood is playing for them now and they don't have a Seeker." Harry looked at her thinking about Quidditch. He loved it, maybe it would give him what he needed to move on. He needed to get away from these ghosts of his past and start new. Maybe this was the way. He looked up at McGonagoll with a smile. "When are those tryouts?" The old woman's face broke into a smile. She stood up and shook his hand. Dumbledore would understand. He had a knack for it. Maybe old Professor Snape would get Harry's job. He's good at it.
"One week from today. Start Training Potter." McGonagoll said briskly sitting back down at her desk and opening an essay. Harry nodded at her. She was a great woman, that McGonagoll. With a smile he hurried up the stairs to his apartments.
When he reached them he found the note he'd been waiting for; it was from Sirius. He ripped it open and began to read.
Harry, When I sent Ron and Hermione invitations for my wedding I sent them with a special "Hidden persons Owl" and it took that Owl two months to find Hermione and Ron. I've returned that Owl to the post office so I don't really have an leads about where they are but I know at least she doesn't want to be found. Ron is an auror, this I know and I've heard he just returned and is working on a case somewhere in the country. Be careful Harry, they could've changed for the worse. War affects people in different ways. So I guess Proceed with Caution. I want you at my wedding. Sirius Ps- I bet Hedwig could find them, try and get location's as neither RSVP'd yet.
Harry closed the letter, a little curious, a little intrigued. He decided the draft a quick letter back before he wrote to Ron and Hermione. He trusted that Hedwig would be able to find them okay.
Sirius I hope you're sitting down. I don't know if you remember but the Wimbourn Wasps tried to recruit me for their Quidditch team around graduation and I turned them down because of the war. They're holding tryouts next week in London and under the influence of McGonagoll I've decided to give it a try. My job here is becoming a bit tedious and the dreams are as clear as they were five years ago. I still can't sleep on my own and needed a drugged sleeping draught to put me out. I'm looking for closure and hopefully, with Quidditch, I'll find it. Thanks for the information on Ron and Hermione. I'm going to try and send it out tonight. Harry
Without putting his quill down he switched to another piece of parchment and began to write. By nightfall he'd finished both letters, tied them to Hedwigs legs and threw her out into the night.