The Twelve Days of Christmas
By deemarie
Chapter 9. New Year's Day
They shared dinner in their common room. People had stopped by to help celebrate. Madame Pomfrey had checked both Jane and Remus. They were both doing fine. Remus would be allowed to accompany them to their meeting with Dr. Gresham. He would have gone anyway, but Madame Pomfrey felt better by giving him permission.
Professor McGonnagal had joined them briefly. Of course she knew the situation. She shared a glass of champagne with them and wished them all a Happy New Year. A few of the other professors had stopped by. Remus' spirits were lifted as they all expressed their wishes that he had stayed on instead of leaving his teaching post. He never realized that they genuinely liked him. He had kept on polite terms with them when he had taught here, never really getting to know them.
Alex and Ken were invited to spend some time with them. Harry had gone up to the common room searching for them. The other students were stunned when Harry had sought them out. He couldn't help it but when they were leaving the tower, he put his arm on Ken's shoulder and said quite loudly that he would give him a few plays to try out in the upcoming matches, and then complimented Alex on how lovely she looked that night. For the rest of their time at Hogwarts, their fellow students held them in awe.
They told Harry, Jane and Remus about the happenings at Hogwarts since Harry had left. Though nothing like Harry's time, the stories were just as adventurous and full of rule breaking as Harry's had been. They played some wizard chess, which Harry was still hopeless at and talked, letting them go so they could be with their peers to ring in the New Year.
Harry discretely left the room just before midnight so Jane and Remus could share that moment and not feel awkward around him. When he joined them again, Jane kissed both his cheeks and Remus gave him a hug.
He thought it would be an uncomfortable moment when they would go to bed. He knew Remus would spend the night with Jane. He was unsure how he felt about this. But strangely it didn't bother him. It was as if he were watching his parents retire. When he thought about it after going to bed himself he realized that somehow when he looked at Jane, he didn't see Ginny. He saw a mature woman. A woman who has seen life and knew her time was near. A woman content. He wished there was something he could do to keep her here for Remus.
After loving her thoroughly, Jane snuggled close to Remus, a sweet lethargy lulling her to sleep.
"We certainly have made some wonderful memories tonight."
"Enough to last me a lifetime, love," he said. Holding her close, they both fell asleep.
Harry waited outside the entrance hall for Dr. Gresham. He would arrive with some of the students returning for the new term. Harry watched the carriages pull up to the front steps. The students began hopping from the carriages. Where was Dr. Gresham? Then he saw the last passenger emerge. Was that Dr. Gresham? He looked entirely too young. He was dressed for combat, or so it seemed, camouflage pants, jacket and cap. He jumped down from the carriage; his black boots hit the gravel of the drive sending stones flying. He looked up to the entrance at Harry. That was the next thing that struck Harry as being unusual. The man striding up to him did not raise his eyes to Harry's scar.
As he drew closer, Harry could see that he was indeed older than he appeared, but surely he couldn't be Remus' age. There was no trace of gray in his dark brown hair, which was long, tied back in a queue, framing a well-tanned face. His electric blue eyes did have lines and now Harry understood why they were called laugh lines. He wore a remarkable smile that encompassed his whole face. He took the steps two at a time, showing boundless energy. He extended his hand to Harry. Their eyes met levelly, he was just a touch taller than Harry.
"Harry Potter, I presume?" This was another surprise for Harry, his voice was deep and held traces of a British accent. "Jacob Gresham. I'm really glad to meet you." Harry didn't say anything being a bit nonplussed. "Mr. Potter?"
"Sorry, Dr. Gresham," Harry said as he shook hands firmly.
"I'm not quite what you expected," an impish grin turned up the corners of his mouth.
"Well, er...actually, no." Gresham chuckled.
"Been reading one of my books, have you?"
"Well, yes."
"It's my writing style, I'm afraid. I'm fantastic at fieldwork and research, but never got the hang of writing. Do you think it's possible we could go in now? I haven't been in England for years, 'fraid my blood's grown a little thin."
"Of course," Harry stepped aside. Gresham was looking about the entry hall.
"Remarkable," Gresham said as he took it all in. "Hasn't changed one bit since I was here. Not one little bit. I swear even the cobwebs are still the same." He turned to Harry. "It's good to be back." The man standing before Harry didn't seem to be able to be still. He was bouncing ever so slightly on the balls of his feet. He looked over to the Great Hall.
"I suppose it's a little early for dinner, eh? Do you think anyone would mind if we slipped down to the kitchens and stole a little food?" he asked with that grin lifting the corners of his lips.
"Look, Dr. Gresham, I'm sure we can arrange something. Wouldn't you like to be shown to your room?"
"In a bit, in a bit, Harry. It's all right if I call you Harry?" Harry nodded. "I really am hungry. Those pitiful Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties they served on the train just weren't enough. If I remember correctly," he pointed to a corridor, "the kitchens are that way?" He's definitely American, brash, bold, outspoken, but I like him, Harry thought. Gresham's mood was infectious. Smiling Harry led the way to the kitchens.
It was almost like having Ron at his side. Harry was filled with a sense of adventure. They were both acting as if what they were doing was against the rules. They were being as quiet as they could, both looking for signs of being detected. They reached the still life, and smiling Harry extended his hand in a gesture that said that Dr. Gresham have the honors. The impish grin still in place, he tickled the pear. Ten minutes later, loaded down with food, with Dobby's enthusiastic farewells still ringing in their ears, Harry led the way to Gresham's rooms.
He had been given rooms near Ravenclaw. Though not as big as Harry's, the sitting room was quite comfortable. A couple of easy chairs, a small table, and a love seat were all the furniture the room could hold. They deposited their booty on the table. Dr. Gresham shrugged out of his coat, tossing it aside, not caring where it landed. He grabbed three sandwiches and a jug of pumpkin juice and sat on the floor in front of the fire.
"Care to join me, Harry?" Harry took a couple of sandwiches and a butterbeer and sat in front of one of the chairs, his back propped against it. They ate in companionable silence.
"I know you must have heard this a thousand times," Gresham said after finishing his second sandwich, "but you really look remarkably like your father."
"I have. I also have my mother's eyes."
"If you say so, I really didn't know her." Harry looked at him tentatively. "I am the son of expatriate parents. They wanted me to experience their alma mater, so they arranged for me to come. I was only here for one year. It was before you father and mother got together. We were all 14, and I was sorted into Ravenclaw."
"Then you really didn't know my father well."
"Nope. Just enough to speak to him in the halls or exchange pleasantries in the Great Hall. I wasn't what you would call outgoing and Quidditch wasn't my sport.
"I remember your father as being a little conceited, not in a bad way, mind you. But he did take great pride in his skills, both on the pitch and in the classroom. Overall he was a pleasant enough fellow, he and his mates.
"I was genuinely sorry to learn he had died. But what about his friends? How are they doing? Let's see, there was Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and um - Pettigrew, that's it. Peter Pettigrew."
"Sirius and Wor - um, I mean, Pettigrew are dead."
"Sorry to hear that. I'm sorry if the question hurt."
"No, it's okay. I've dealt with it."
"What about Remus?"
"He's here. You'll meet him again, later."
"So, Remus is involved in this?"
"Yes, Dr. Gresham."
"It's Jacob. Dr. Gresham writes those awful books."
"Thanks, Jacob," Harry said smiling.
"So," Jacob said taking a bite of sandwich, "tell me what this mystery is all about."
"Didn't Professor Snape write to you?"
"Yes, but I want to hear the story from a number of points of view. It will help me sort through what I will find out." Harry told him. He talked for quite a long time, without interruption. The whole time Gresham sat, staring into the fire. At one point Harry stopped, to check if Jacob was listening.
"Go on, Harry. I'm listening. This is how I process the information I get. I have a photographic memory. I can call up the data later and remember every precise detail. Absolutely essential bit of talent, really useful in fieldwork.
"Keep going, Harry. (Accio sandwiches!) After you performed the Legilimens spell what happened?" Harry continued his story while Jacob went through the remainder of the sandwiches. When he finished, he jumped to his feet.
"Why don't you take me to Severus now, then you can get your friends. The sooner we begin this, the sooner we'll get your fiancé back."
Harry escorted Dr. Gresham to Snape's office. When they entered they found the professor in his usual spot behind his desk.
"Severus! It's good to see you again!" Gresham bounded over to Snape and took his hand pumping it in genuine happiness.
"Jacob," Snape greeted him. Harry had never seen Snape smile with genuine affection before. He almost didn't recognize him. "I see age hasn't caught up with you yet."
"That's because I'm still running to fast." The laughter they shared was a sight to behold. Years of bitterness and frustration lifted from Snape's face.
"Potter, I suggest you fetch Miss Weasley and Lupin now." When Snape looked at Harry, he had reverted to his normal scowl. Mentally shaking his head Harry left to get Jane and Remus.
When Harry entered the common room, Jane and Remus were sitting on the sofa; Remus had one arm around her shoulder. She was tucked tenderly in the crook of his arm. They seemed to be in deep conversation, as they hadn't heard Harry enter.
"Are you ready to do this, Jane?" She sighed.
"No, I'll never be ready. But this has to be done." Remus hugged her tighter.
"I hate him! I'll never forgive him for all the pain. How could I have loved him?" She was sobbing now. Harry couldn't let this go on. He cleared his throat loudly. Jane sat up wiping her eyes.
"Dr. Gresham is waiting for us." Jane stood up.
"Let's go find Ginny," she said.
They were all sitting in Snape's office. Upon seeing Remus, Jacob had greeted him warmly. Remus did remember him, but not very well. Pleasantries were exchanged. Gresham turned to Jane.
"Miss Wilson?" She extended her hand.
"Dr. Gresham, I'm pleased to meet you."
"As I am to meet you. Though I wish it were under better circumstances. Harry has told me a lot about you. Please sit down and tell me more." Jane told him her story. When she faltered, Jacob would ask a question and Jane would go on. When she finished she turned to him.
"Can you help me, Dr. Gresham? Can you tell us what happened?" Jacob thought for a moment.
"There are a number of possibilities. I would have to examine these memories to give you any more specifics."
"I'm ready for the Legilimency spell," she said.
"I don't think that's a wise course of action at this point," he said. "But there are other ways." He turned to Snape. "Severus, do you by any chance have a collection of herbs and potion ingredients?" Snape took out his wand and pointed it at one of the bookcases. It swung open revealing shelves lined with small jars.
"I shall have to altar the office. With these incantations, the atmosphere is more conducive to positive results. Do you mind?"
"Not at all, Jacob." Gresham nodded and retrieved his wand from a cleverly concealed pocket on his leg. He murmured an incantation and the room changed. The stonewalls became wooden, as if logs had been piled one on top of the other. The ceiling changed from plaster to thatch. The chairs, except for Snape's, became wooden benches lining the walls. The floor changed from flagstone to dirt, in the center a ring of white stones, a fire pit.
"It's a representation of a Native American meeting room," Gresham told them. "It's a place where tribal gatherings were held. It's a place full of magic." He turned to Remus and Harry. "If you'll take a seat along the walls? Jane please sit by the fire pit. I just have to get ready." They each moved to their respective places.
Jacob conjured three small clay bowls and measured herbs and potions into them, and then placed them by the fire pit. He doffed his shirt and removed the band holding his queue. He was well tanned, his hair hung straight to his shoulders. He sat next to Jane. Around his neck were necklaces made of leather thongs with stones, feathers, bones and small animal teeth. Prominent among them was a small leather pouch. From one of his pockets he produced a leather band decorated with shells and beads. He tied it about his head. He pointed his wand and a small fire kindled. Sitting attired as he was, Harry thought he looked exactly like an Indian.
"The magic I'm about to use," he spoke gently to Jane, "is ancient. Native American mages used it to obtain truth. The spell, though not as powerful or clear as Legilimency will be visible to all in this room. Do you mind if they see?" Jane shook her head. "Good. We will begin."
Jacob closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He began to mutter something in a language no one else recognized. The muttering became rhythmic, almost a song. Everyone felt the first twinges of magic stirring about them.
Continuing to chant, Jacob picked up the first bowl and tossed its contents on the fire. It flared briefly and died down. Smoke filled the room. It smelled of woods and berries, a soft pleasing scent that made everyone relax. Harry felt his senses sharpen. The colours about him seemed to glow, the sounds of Jacob's chanting reverberated in his chest.
Jacob picked up the second bowl and tossed that too, on the fire. Again, a flash and ebb. Suddenly, the room filled with sounds of chanting. Ghost like figures began to form. Indian warriors and women dancing around the room, passing through their bodies. Harry became entranced. This was so beautiful and peaceful. He saw Jane swaying to the rhythm of the chant.
The third concoction was thrown onto the fire. Light flashed. A dense white smoke began to rise, engulfing them all. Jacob had taken a pinch of something from the pouch about his neck. He shouted a word no one understood and threw it on the fire. Darkness. It seemed to last an eternity. Then slowly the room came back into the light. But it had changed again.
Stone covered with green lichen appeared. Runes and pictures carved into every surface. Gone was the smell of forest, in its place stale, stagnant water and decay.
Harry was transfixed, unable to move. There in front of him, on an altar of stone lay Jane, bound tightly to it. But Jane was different. This wasn't Ginny's body. But he knew it was Jane. The woman was dark-haired, her eyes were nearly black. Nor was she petite, like Ginny. He could tell that she was nearly as tall as he. Jane as she was 40 years ago.
Climbing off her, straightening his clothing, was Tom Riddle. Rage burned inside Harry, he wanted to jump up and rip the figure to pieces. He knew Riddle had just finished doing unspeakable things to the girl, but he couldn't move. He struggled against the force holding him still. Jacob's voice whispered softly in his mind.
"Don't. It is only shadow and light. Do not interfere."
"Thank you, love," Riddle said to Jane. "That was most pleasurable. I will miss what we share. But there will be others."
"I hate you," she said dully. She could feel no more. She just wanted to die, to end all the suffering, to get away from the monster before her.
"No you don't," he said softly. "Somewhere deep inside you, you still love me. I'm a part of you. And I always will be.
"But now, love, it is time to begin." He stood over her and stretched out his hands. He spoke words in a harsh guttural language, moving his hands above Jane's prone form.
"What happened to the boy I loved?" she asked him. "Where did he go? When did he die? You were so gentle once, Tom. So loving. You made me feel as if I were special, not a plain witch with no talent. Where is that Tom Riddle?" Riddle paused and looked down at her.
"That person never existed, Jane. It was all a lie. I wanted you and I gave you who you wanted to see. This, this is who I really am, and thanks to you, I will be forever." He began the incantation again. A deep blue light began to surround them. The light intensified, changing shades slowly going from midnight to cobalt, lightening as the incantation intensified. It was the colour of a summer sky now, continuing to lighten. Jane had been struggling against her bonds. As the light changed to white and Jane ceased her struggle, she arched against the intensity of the light.
"I SHALL ALWAYS HATE YOU!" she shouted, her body jerked convulsively, she screamed and then went limp. The light exploded and Riddle was flung against the wall, he dropped and lay still.
They were all in a mist of white and soft grays. Jane was lying on the ground. She gasped and jerked up to a sitting position. She looked about wildly. There was nothing there but wispy gray mist.
"Where am I? Am I dead?" she whispered, not daring to speak louder.
"No, little one, you have not passed beyond." The voice was feminine, lilting like soft music. It began to calm her.
"Who are you? Where are you?"
"I am here, all around you. Be calm child." The voice seemed to be coming from in front of her.
"Please come closer. I'm frightened."
"Do not fear. Do not fear me, little one. I will show myself to you." The mist in front of Jane seemed to move, to part. Jane was sitting in a garden. The smell of fully blooming tropical flowers filled her senses. The fierce pounding of her heart began to slow. The mists cleared. She was sitting in a small clearing amongst wildflowers of every shade and size. She got to her feet. Her clothing had changed. She was dressed in a soft light blue linen robe. Dark blue fretwork adorned the hem of her sleeves and skirt. She was barefoot, the carpet of wildflowers felt like silk beneath her feet.
Peace entered her heart. She was calm; the pain of loss and hatred had left her. She looked up at the clear pristine sky and took a deep cleansing breath.
"Come to me, little one. Come to my bower." She looked in front of her. In the distance she spied a canopy of shades of green and yellow, the drapery fluttering in the breeze. There was a figure seated beneath it. There was no fear in Jane. She knew if she went there she would be safe. She walked to the haven.
As she approached, the figure became clearer. It was a woman. A woman like no other Jane ever encountered before. Dark, black hair, hair so black that blue highlights sparkled in it, hung about her. It was long. If the figure had been standing, Jane was sure it would have reached the ground. A magnificent robe was draped around her, in every colour of the rainbow, an intricate pattern of square shapes, their edges softened. Feathers and precious stones set in the pattern giving it an appearance of fluidity. She was dark, her skin a rich brown tinged with bronze. Her hands lay folded in her lap, long graceful fingers crossed together.
Her face was beautiful. Surely the most beautiful Jane had ever seen. Her full red lips were curled into a gentle smile below a gracefully appointed nose. Her eyes were her most startling feature. They were black as a raven's wing, wide and shining. They radiated peace and love and acceptance. She sat there proudly, regally but inviting.
When Jane came before her, all she could do was bow.
"Rise, little one. Come and sit beside me."
"Who are you?" Jane said as she sat beside the beauty.
"People know me by many different names. But my people call me Ix Chel. Do you feel better now?"
"Yes, my lady," Jane couldn't bring herself to speak her name. Ix Chel smiled at her.
"Tell me your name, child."
"Jane, It's Jane." Ix Chel reached up and stroked Jane's hair.
"Well, Jane, have you no questions for me?"
"I dare not ask, my Lady. I would disturb the peace here."
"Fear not, little one. This peace cannot be disturbed. Ask your questions."
"Where am I, how did I get here?"
"You are in the celestial garden. It is my home. You came when the magic ended."
"The spell, did it work?"
"No, child. You prevented that."
"How?"
"The magic was not intended to be used that way. It was only intended to join souls in love, to make that love last through all time. You have not loved that mortal that way for a long time. It was doomed to failure."
"Is he dead? Has he been stopped?" Ix Chel sighed softly.
"No. That mortal's fate is not to die here. His destiny lies elsewhere."
"But he must be stopped!"
"Peace, little one. Have no fear. His fate was decided long ago. He will never achieve his ends. Only the gods can live forever. There is one fated to defeat him."
"But he'll go on!"
"It is true. He will live a while longer. Many will suffer and die. I cannot change that, no one can. But he will be stopped. There will be a child, a youth, brave and strong with the power to break him."
"A boy? How could a boy stop what he has become?"
"It must be. Yes, he will be a boy, but powerful, a warrior, brave of heart, but gentle. A child of love and hope. He will suffer, but grow; anger but hope."
"I should have stopped him."
"No, little one. You would have been destroyed. Your fate lies elsewhere."
"My fate? But I can't - I - I'm dead, aren't I?"
"No, little one. Not dead as I have said. You are merely waiting."
"For what?"
"Even that, I do not know. But we will wait together, little one. We will wait for your destiny."
The mist returned. It blocked them from view and the scene faded. The fire died down and the vision died.
Breath returned to Harry with a vengeance and he felt as if his soul was jerked back into his body. The room returned to focus. They were back in Snape's office. Gone were the wooden walls, benches, and fire pit. Jane sat still in the middle of the floor, her head hanging forward. Jacob was swaying at her side. He pitched backward and lay sprawled on his back. No one moved for a moment. Jane's head jerked abruptly up.
"Dr. Gresham!" She was at his side. Everyone gathered around them. Remus put his arms around Jane. Harry, on his knees, leaned over Jacob. He put two fingers to Gresham's neck, feeling for a pulse. The doctor seemed not to be breathing. "Is he all right?" she whispered. Gresham suddenly gasped sharply and his eyes opened. He sat up quickly.
"Mayan. She's encountered a Mayan goddess. Extraordinary."
By deemarie
Chapter 9. New Year's Day
They shared dinner in their common room. People had stopped by to help celebrate. Madame Pomfrey had checked both Jane and Remus. They were both doing fine. Remus would be allowed to accompany them to their meeting with Dr. Gresham. He would have gone anyway, but Madame Pomfrey felt better by giving him permission.
Professor McGonnagal had joined them briefly. Of course she knew the situation. She shared a glass of champagne with them and wished them all a Happy New Year. A few of the other professors had stopped by. Remus' spirits were lifted as they all expressed their wishes that he had stayed on instead of leaving his teaching post. He never realized that they genuinely liked him. He had kept on polite terms with them when he had taught here, never really getting to know them.
Alex and Ken were invited to spend some time with them. Harry had gone up to the common room searching for them. The other students were stunned when Harry had sought them out. He couldn't help it but when they were leaving the tower, he put his arm on Ken's shoulder and said quite loudly that he would give him a few plays to try out in the upcoming matches, and then complimented Alex on how lovely she looked that night. For the rest of their time at Hogwarts, their fellow students held them in awe.
They told Harry, Jane and Remus about the happenings at Hogwarts since Harry had left. Though nothing like Harry's time, the stories were just as adventurous and full of rule breaking as Harry's had been. They played some wizard chess, which Harry was still hopeless at and talked, letting them go so they could be with their peers to ring in the New Year.
Harry discretely left the room just before midnight so Jane and Remus could share that moment and not feel awkward around him. When he joined them again, Jane kissed both his cheeks and Remus gave him a hug.
He thought it would be an uncomfortable moment when they would go to bed. He knew Remus would spend the night with Jane. He was unsure how he felt about this. But strangely it didn't bother him. It was as if he were watching his parents retire. When he thought about it after going to bed himself he realized that somehow when he looked at Jane, he didn't see Ginny. He saw a mature woman. A woman who has seen life and knew her time was near. A woman content. He wished there was something he could do to keep her here for Remus.
After loving her thoroughly, Jane snuggled close to Remus, a sweet lethargy lulling her to sleep.
"We certainly have made some wonderful memories tonight."
"Enough to last me a lifetime, love," he said. Holding her close, they both fell asleep.
Harry waited outside the entrance hall for Dr. Gresham. He would arrive with some of the students returning for the new term. Harry watched the carriages pull up to the front steps. The students began hopping from the carriages. Where was Dr. Gresham? Then he saw the last passenger emerge. Was that Dr. Gresham? He looked entirely too young. He was dressed for combat, or so it seemed, camouflage pants, jacket and cap. He jumped down from the carriage; his black boots hit the gravel of the drive sending stones flying. He looked up to the entrance at Harry. That was the next thing that struck Harry as being unusual. The man striding up to him did not raise his eyes to Harry's scar.
As he drew closer, Harry could see that he was indeed older than he appeared, but surely he couldn't be Remus' age. There was no trace of gray in his dark brown hair, which was long, tied back in a queue, framing a well-tanned face. His electric blue eyes did have lines and now Harry understood why they were called laugh lines. He wore a remarkable smile that encompassed his whole face. He took the steps two at a time, showing boundless energy. He extended his hand to Harry. Their eyes met levelly, he was just a touch taller than Harry.
"Harry Potter, I presume?" This was another surprise for Harry, his voice was deep and held traces of a British accent. "Jacob Gresham. I'm really glad to meet you." Harry didn't say anything being a bit nonplussed. "Mr. Potter?"
"Sorry, Dr. Gresham," Harry said as he shook hands firmly.
"I'm not quite what you expected," an impish grin turned up the corners of his mouth.
"Well, er...actually, no." Gresham chuckled.
"Been reading one of my books, have you?"
"Well, yes."
"It's my writing style, I'm afraid. I'm fantastic at fieldwork and research, but never got the hang of writing. Do you think it's possible we could go in now? I haven't been in England for years, 'fraid my blood's grown a little thin."
"Of course," Harry stepped aside. Gresham was looking about the entry hall.
"Remarkable," Gresham said as he took it all in. "Hasn't changed one bit since I was here. Not one little bit. I swear even the cobwebs are still the same." He turned to Harry. "It's good to be back." The man standing before Harry didn't seem to be able to be still. He was bouncing ever so slightly on the balls of his feet. He looked over to the Great Hall.
"I suppose it's a little early for dinner, eh? Do you think anyone would mind if we slipped down to the kitchens and stole a little food?" he asked with that grin lifting the corners of his lips.
"Look, Dr. Gresham, I'm sure we can arrange something. Wouldn't you like to be shown to your room?"
"In a bit, in a bit, Harry. It's all right if I call you Harry?" Harry nodded. "I really am hungry. Those pitiful Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties they served on the train just weren't enough. If I remember correctly," he pointed to a corridor, "the kitchens are that way?" He's definitely American, brash, bold, outspoken, but I like him, Harry thought. Gresham's mood was infectious. Smiling Harry led the way to the kitchens.
It was almost like having Ron at his side. Harry was filled with a sense of adventure. They were both acting as if what they were doing was against the rules. They were being as quiet as they could, both looking for signs of being detected. They reached the still life, and smiling Harry extended his hand in a gesture that said that Dr. Gresham have the honors. The impish grin still in place, he tickled the pear. Ten minutes later, loaded down with food, with Dobby's enthusiastic farewells still ringing in their ears, Harry led the way to Gresham's rooms.
He had been given rooms near Ravenclaw. Though not as big as Harry's, the sitting room was quite comfortable. A couple of easy chairs, a small table, and a love seat were all the furniture the room could hold. They deposited their booty on the table. Dr. Gresham shrugged out of his coat, tossing it aside, not caring where it landed. He grabbed three sandwiches and a jug of pumpkin juice and sat on the floor in front of the fire.
"Care to join me, Harry?" Harry took a couple of sandwiches and a butterbeer and sat in front of one of the chairs, his back propped against it. They ate in companionable silence.
"I know you must have heard this a thousand times," Gresham said after finishing his second sandwich, "but you really look remarkably like your father."
"I have. I also have my mother's eyes."
"If you say so, I really didn't know her." Harry looked at him tentatively. "I am the son of expatriate parents. They wanted me to experience their alma mater, so they arranged for me to come. I was only here for one year. It was before you father and mother got together. We were all 14, and I was sorted into Ravenclaw."
"Then you really didn't know my father well."
"Nope. Just enough to speak to him in the halls or exchange pleasantries in the Great Hall. I wasn't what you would call outgoing and Quidditch wasn't my sport.
"I remember your father as being a little conceited, not in a bad way, mind you. But he did take great pride in his skills, both on the pitch and in the classroom. Overall he was a pleasant enough fellow, he and his mates.
"I was genuinely sorry to learn he had died. But what about his friends? How are they doing? Let's see, there was Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and um - Pettigrew, that's it. Peter Pettigrew."
"Sirius and Wor - um, I mean, Pettigrew are dead."
"Sorry to hear that. I'm sorry if the question hurt."
"No, it's okay. I've dealt with it."
"What about Remus?"
"He's here. You'll meet him again, later."
"So, Remus is involved in this?"
"Yes, Dr. Gresham."
"It's Jacob. Dr. Gresham writes those awful books."
"Thanks, Jacob," Harry said smiling.
"So," Jacob said taking a bite of sandwich, "tell me what this mystery is all about."
"Didn't Professor Snape write to you?"
"Yes, but I want to hear the story from a number of points of view. It will help me sort through what I will find out." Harry told him. He talked for quite a long time, without interruption. The whole time Gresham sat, staring into the fire. At one point Harry stopped, to check if Jacob was listening.
"Go on, Harry. I'm listening. This is how I process the information I get. I have a photographic memory. I can call up the data later and remember every precise detail. Absolutely essential bit of talent, really useful in fieldwork.
"Keep going, Harry. (Accio sandwiches!) After you performed the Legilimens spell what happened?" Harry continued his story while Jacob went through the remainder of the sandwiches. When he finished, he jumped to his feet.
"Why don't you take me to Severus now, then you can get your friends. The sooner we begin this, the sooner we'll get your fiancé back."
Harry escorted Dr. Gresham to Snape's office. When they entered they found the professor in his usual spot behind his desk.
"Severus! It's good to see you again!" Gresham bounded over to Snape and took his hand pumping it in genuine happiness.
"Jacob," Snape greeted him. Harry had never seen Snape smile with genuine affection before. He almost didn't recognize him. "I see age hasn't caught up with you yet."
"That's because I'm still running to fast." The laughter they shared was a sight to behold. Years of bitterness and frustration lifted from Snape's face.
"Potter, I suggest you fetch Miss Weasley and Lupin now." When Snape looked at Harry, he had reverted to his normal scowl. Mentally shaking his head Harry left to get Jane and Remus.
When Harry entered the common room, Jane and Remus were sitting on the sofa; Remus had one arm around her shoulder. She was tucked tenderly in the crook of his arm. They seemed to be in deep conversation, as they hadn't heard Harry enter.
"Are you ready to do this, Jane?" She sighed.
"No, I'll never be ready. But this has to be done." Remus hugged her tighter.
"I hate him! I'll never forgive him for all the pain. How could I have loved him?" She was sobbing now. Harry couldn't let this go on. He cleared his throat loudly. Jane sat up wiping her eyes.
"Dr. Gresham is waiting for us." Jane stood up.
"Let's go find Ginny," she said.
They were all sitting in Snape's office. Upon seeing Remus, Jacob had greeted him warmly. Remus did remember him, but not very well. Pleasantries were exchanged. Gresham turned to Jane.
"Miss Wilson?" She extended her hand.
"Dr. Gresham, I'm pleased to meet you."
"As I am to meet you. Though I wish it were under better circumstances. Harry has told me a lot about you. Please sit down and tell me more." Jane told him her story. When she faltered, Jacob would ask a question and Jane would go on. When she finished she turned to him.
"Can you help me, Dr. Gresham? Can you tell us what happened?" Jacob thought for a moment.
"There are a number of possibilities. I would have to examine these memories to give you any more specifics."
"I'm ready for the Legilimency spell," she said.
"I don't think that's a wise course of action at this point," he said. "But there are other ways." He turned to Snape. "Severus, do you by any chance have a collection of herbs and potion ingredients?" Snape took out his wand and pointed it at one of the bookcases. It swung open revealing shelves lined with small jars.
"I shall have to altar the office. With these incantations, the atmosphere is more conducive to positive results. Do you mind?"
"Not at all, Jacob." Gresham nodded and retrieved his wand from a cleverly concealed pocket on his leg. He murmured an incantation and the room changed. The stonewalls became wooden, as if logs had been piled one on top of the other. The ceiling changed from plaster to thatch. The chairs, except for Snape's, became wooden benches lining the walls. The floor changed from flagstone to dirt, in the center a ring of white stones, a fire pit.
"It's a representation of a Native American meeting room," Gresham told them. "It's a place where tribal gatherings were held. It's a place full of magic." He turned to Remus and Harry. "If you'll take a seat along the walls? Jane please sit by the fire pit. I just have to get ready." They each moved to their respective places.
Jacob conjured three small clay bowls and measured herbs and potions into them, and then placed them by the fire pit. He doffed his shirt and removed the band holding his queue. He was well tanned, his hair hung straight to his shoulders. He sat next to Jane. Around his neck were necklaces made of leather thongs with stones, feathers, bones and small animal teeth. Prominent among them was a small leather pouch. From one of his pockets he produced a leather band decorated with shells and beads. He tied it about his head. He pointed his wand and a small fire kindled. Sitting attired as he was, Harry thought he looked exactly like an Indian.
"The magic I'm about to use," he spoke gently to Jane, "is ancient. Native American mages used it to obtain truth. The spell, though not as powerful or clear as Legilimency will be visible to all in this room. Do you mind if they see?" Jane shook her head. "Good. We will begin."
Jacob closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He began to mutter something in a language no one else recognized. The muttering became rhythmic, almost a song. Everyone felt the first twinges of magic stirring about them.
Continuing to chant, Jacob picked up the first bowl and tossed its contents on the fire. It flared briefly and died down. Smoke filled the room. It smelled of woods and berries, a soft pleasing scent that made everyone relax. Harry felt his senses sharpen. The colours about him seemed to glow, the sounds of Jacob's chanting reverberated in his chest.
Jacob picked up the second bowl and tossed that too, on the fire. Again, a flash and ebb. Suddenly, the room filled with sounds of chanting. Ghost like figures began to form. Indian warriors and women dancing around the room, passing through their bodies. Harry became entranced. This was so beautiful and peaceful. He saw Jane swaying to the rhythm of the chant.
The third concoction was thrown onto the fire. Light flashed. A dense white smoke began to rise, engulfing them all. Jacob had taken a pinch of something from the pouch about his neck. He shouted a word no one understood and threw it on the fire. Darkness. It seemed to last an eternity. Then slowly the room came back into the light. But it had changed again.
Stone covered with green lichen appeared. Runes and pictures carved into every surface. Gone was the smell of forest, in its place stale, stagnant water and decay.
Harry was transfixed, unable to move. There in front of him, on an altar of stone lay Jane, bound tightly to it. But Jane was different. This wasn't Ginny's body. But he knew it was Jane. The woman was dark-haired, her eyes were nearly black. Nor was she petite, like Ginny. He could tell that she was nearly as tall as he. Jane as she was 40 years ago.
Climbing off her, straightening his clothing, was Tom Riddle. Rage burned inside Harry, he wanted to jump up and rip the figure to pieces. He knew Riddle had just finished doing unspeakable things to the girl, but he couldn't move. He struggled against the force holding him still. Jacob's voice whispered softly in his mind.
"Don't. It is only shadow and light. Do not interfere."
"Thank you, love," Riddle said to Jane. "That was most pleasurable. I will miss what we share. But there will be others."
"I hate you," she said dully. She could feel no more. She just wanted to die, to end all the suffering, to get away from the monster before her.
"No you don't," he said softly. "Somewhere deep inside you, you still love me. I'm a part of you. And I always will be.
"But now, love, it is time to begin." He stood over her and stretched out his hands. He spoke words in a harsh guttural language, moving his hands above Jane's prone form.
"What happened to the boy I loved?" she asked him. "Where did he go? When did he die? You were so gentle once, Tom. So loving. You made me feel as if I were special, not a plain witch with no talent. Where is that Tom Riddle?" Riddle paused and looked down at her.
"That person never existed, Jane. It was all a lie. I wanted you and I gave you who you wanted to see. This, this is who I really am, and thanks to you, I will be forever." He began the incantation again. A deep blue light began to surround them. The light intensified, changing shades slowly going from midnight to cobalt, lightening as the incantation intensified. It was the colour of a summer sky now, continuing to lighten. Jane had been struggling against her bonds. As the light changed to white and Jane ceased her struggle, she arched against the intensity of the light.
"I SHALL ALWAYS HATE YOU!" she shouted, her body jerked convulsively, she screamed and then went limp. The light exploded and Riddle was flung against the wall, he dropped and lay still.
They were all in a mist of white and soft grays. Jane was lying on the ground. She gasped and jerked up to a sitting position. She looked about wildly. There was nothing there but wispy gray mist.
"Where am I? Am I dead?" she whispered, not daring to speak louder.
"No, little one, you have not passed beyond." The voice was feminine, lilting like soft music. It began to calm her.
"Who are you? Where are you?"
"I am here, all around you. Be calm child." The voice seemed to be coming from in front of her.
"Please come closer. I'm frightened."
"Do not fear. Do not fear me, little one. I will show myself to you." The mist in front of Jane seemed to move, to part. Jane was sitting in a garden. The smell of fully blooming tropical flowers filled her senses. The fierce pounding of her heart began to slow. The mists cleared. She was sitting in a small clearing amongst wildflowers of every shade and size. She got to her feet. Her clothing had changed. She was dressed in a soft light blue linen robe. Dark blue fretwork adorned the hem of her sleeves and skirt. She was barefoot, the carpet of wildflowers felt like silk beneath her feet.
Peace entered her heart. She was calm; the pain of loss and hatred had left her. She looked up at the clear pristine sky and took a deep cleansing breath.
"Come to me, little one. Come to my bower." She looked in front of her. In the distance she spied a canopy of shades of green and yellow, the drapery fluttering in the breeze. There was a figure seated beneath it. There was no fear in Jane. She knew if she went there she would be safe. She walked to the haven.
As she approached, the figure became clearer. It was a woman. A woman like no other Jane ever encountered before. Dark, black hair, hair so black that blue highlights sparkled in it, hung about her. It was long. If the figure had been standing, Jane was sure it would have reached the ground. A magnificent robe was draped around her, in every colour of the rainbow, an intricate pattern of square shapes, their edges softened. Feathers and precious stones set in the pattern giving it an appearance of fluidity. She was dark, her skin a rich brown tinged with bronze. Her hands lay folded in her lap, long graceful fingers crossed together.
Her face was beautiful. Surely the most beautiful Jane had ever seen. Her full red lips were curled into a gentle smile below a gracefully appointed nose. Her eyes were her most startling feature. They were black as a raven's wing, wide and shining. They radiated peace and love and acceptance. She sat there proudly, regally but inviting.
When Jane came before her, all she could do was bow.
"Rise, little one. Come and sit beside me."
"Who are you?" Jane said as she sat beside the beauty.
"People know me by many different names. But my people call me Ix Chel. Do you feel better now?"
"Yes, my lady," Jane couldn't bring herself to speak her name. Ix Chel smiled at her.
"Tell me your name, child."
"Jane, It's Jane." Ix Chel reached up and stroked Jane's hair.
"Well, Jane, have you no questions for me?"
"I dare not ask, my Lady. I would disturb the peace here."
"Fear not, little one. This peace cannot be disturbed. Ask your questions."
"Where am I, how did I get here?"
"You are in the celestial garden. It is my home. You came when the magic ended."
"The spell, did it work?"
"No, child. You prevented that."
"How?"
"The magic was not intended to be used that way. It was only intended to join souls in love, to make that love last through all time. You have not loved that mortal that way for a long time. It was doomed to failure."
"Is he dead? Has he been stopped?" Ix Chel sighed softly.
"No. That mortal's fate is not to die here. His destiny lies elsewhere."
"But he must be stopped!"
"Peace, little one. Have no fear. His fate was decided long ago. He will never achieve his ends. Only the gods can live forever. There is one fated to defeat him."
"But he'll go on!"
"It is true. He will live a while longer. Many will suffer and die. I cannot change that, no one can. But he will be stopped. There will be a child, a youth, brave and strong with the power to break him."
"A boy? How could a boy stop what he has become?"
"It must be. Yes, he will be a boy, but powerful, a warrior, brave of heart, but gentle. A child of love and hope. He will suffer, but grow; anger but hope."
"I should have stopped him."
"No, little one. You would have been destroyed. Your fate lies elsewhere."
"My fate? But I can't - I - I'm dead, aren't I?"
"No, little one. Not dead as I have said. You are merely waiting."
"For what?"
"Even that, I do not know. But we will wait together, little one. We will wait for your destiny."
The mist returned. It blocked them from view and the scene faded. The fire died down and the vision died.
Breath returned to Harry with a vengeance and he felt as if his soul was jerked back into his body. The room returned to focus. They were back in Snape's office. Gone were the wooden walls, benches, and fire pit. Jane sat still in the middle of the floor, her head hanging forward. Jacob was swaying at her side. He pitched backward and lay sprawled on his back. No one moved for a moment. Jane's head jerked abruptly up.
"Dr. Gresham!" She was at his side. Everyone gathered around them. Remus put his arms around Jane. Harry, on his knees, leaned over Jacob. He put two fingers to Gresham's neck, feeling for a pulse. The doctor seemed not to be breathing. "Is he all right?" she whispered. Gresham suddenly gasped sharply and his eyes opened. He sat up quickly.
"Mayan. She's encountered a Mayan goddess. Extraordinary."