Chapter 2 – The Dashed Line

Harry was delighted to step into his home after an adventurous, exhausting, and strange day all together, leaving him only peace and family to desire by the end of the day.

As soon as the door flung open, he threw himself onto the couch without bothering to rid his shoes or overgrown cloak. True, he didn't have a blood-to-blood family, but Ron and Hermione sufficed more than enough. Immediately after they had announced their engagement, Harry had been anxious to know where he would be living outside of the Burrow. Surely he couldn't have stayed there if Ron wasn't going to. One day he was browsing through the Daily Prophet classifieds in search of a mini flat, when Ron tapped him and shook his head. Harry still remembered Ron's words: "How could you even think about living away from us? Once together, always together." That had meant more to him than anyone could have ever imagined.

"You home, Harry?" Hermione's motherly voice trailed from the kitchen. Harry found it funny how she could differentiate my entrance from Ron's.

"Yeah! Is dinner ready? I'm starving!" He yelled back. The flat wasn't too spacy; they always yelled when they called for one another.

He dragged himself to the kitchen to find Hermione and her unborn baby monitoring the stove as the steak magically cooked on its own. Ah, the benefits of magic, Harry thought to himself.

Enclosed were two bedrooms, a kitchen, bathroom, and a living room At first, they had considered living in Grimmauld's Place but then concluded that it was too big to take care of, especially since Harry was an Auror (almost), Ron a professional Quidditch player, and Hermione a humanitarian representative. On top of that, Harry didn't think he could spend the rest of his life in a house that reeked memories of Sirius and the Black family.

"Hey." Hermione greeted him. He gave her a small peck on the cheek and rubbed her belly slightly, "How's my niece doing?"

"She's fine. I read A Hundred Rules to Becoming the Perfect Lady. Tomorrow I'll begin the Origins of Magic."

Harry laughed, "Hermione, she's not even born yet. Imagine what will happen when she will be. She'll get buried under all those books."

"No she won't! I'll take such good care of her that she'll always treat any house elf fairly."

"Sounds lovely." Harry said, craning his neck over the stove to peer into the pan, discovering a juicy and tender steak. His mouth watered uncontrollably.

"What's that?" Hermione inquired with full curiosity in her voice.

"What's what?"

She pointed at her neck, "That."

Small hints of red still remained on his neck. He hoped they would vanish eventually.

"Oh, it's a souvenir of the most bizarre day I've had in a long time."

"Even more bizarre than the day Ron threw me in the sewer, saying I was too contaminated to live by the N.E.W.T's?"

"Yep."

"Well, then. It must have been something. What happened?"

As Harry opened his mouth, the front door banged shut.

"Nevermind. I'll tell both of you at dinner."

And he did, while devouring Hermione's delicious dinner. After going through the story of the murder and the tall and beefy culprit, it came down to the meat. He recounted the events of the witch doctor, and finally the strange woman who had come out of the tent with those unwanting words escaping her mouth.

Surprisingly enough, under the ridiculously hot climates, the woman was pale, with blue eyes pasted onto her face and thin shriveled lips that appeared severely chapped under the scorching sun. What she was dressed in was by far the strangest. A faded brown grass skirt covered her legs fully, while as a top, she wore a red cotton long-sleeved shirt. He she wasn't sweating in those clothes was beyond Harry.

His future? Were they mad? It was unbelievable how Harry and Neville had gotten wrapped up with such riftraft.

"I don't want to know my future." I said flatly. The woman folded her arms and gave him a look that made him shiver. Negative vibes vibrated from her body, and soon enough, she confirmed it, "Of course you do. Us as well. Who wouldn't like to know what the successor of You-Know-Who has in store for him?"

Harry hastened to ruffle his hair, in the purpose of curtailing his scar from prying eyes.

The woman guffawed, "Oh, you can't hide who you are, Harry Potter! You-Know-Who maybe gone, but who knows what is to come in your way?"

"Neville." Harry said, putting the bucket to the side, "It's time to go." The last thing he needed was another Trelawney on his case.

They were about ready to clear off, when the woman spoke, "Oh, I see it! A woman! A woman is to tread your path any day now! Whether she is an adversary or ally, I do not know."

"You're mad! You're bloody mad!"

Neville laid a hand on his back, leading him through the clearing and back into the forest.

Coming back to the dinner table, Harry immersed into his thoughts. Even though the idea was absolutely absurd, Harry sat there wondering while eating his green peas. Was he going to meet a woman?

"A penny for your thoughts?" Hermione interrupted him, and he looked up to see her grinning toothily at him.

"So, mate," Ron started, "You think this woman's planning to show up? Ring us when she does, eh?"

He snorted, as Hermione nudged him in the shoulder, "Stop it, Ron! Harry will find love, sooner or later. These things take time. It's not a matter of good and evil."

"Poor guy. He hasn't been lucky at all in that department, has he?"

"WHY?" Ron and Hermione jumped, "Why does everyone make fun of me? Neville was teasing me about that just this morning!"

"Oh, Harry." Hermione chuckled, placing her fork on the plate, "It's because we love you! Don't take it personally!"

"Well, I do, and can't do anything about it."

"Awww Harry," Hermione sang, "Don't worry about it. We'll find someone for you if you're up for it."

"Haha. I don't think so." It is time to change the subject, he thought as he faced Ron, "How was training?"

"The same ol'. Blocked sixty percent of the shots. Not bad for now, I think. Gibbs had me on edge, though. I was about to smack him but stopped."

Ron was on the Heidelberg Harriers Team, representative for Germany. Of course at first, he had applied for the Chudley Cannons, but when they had denied him, he opened up to other possibilities.

"When is the next match?" Hermione asked.

"Next Tuesday, but why are you asking? I'm not going to let my pregnant wife go to a Quidditch match, especially when she's in her third trimester."

Normally, Hermione would have scolded him for being overprotective, but this time, she smiled, "I didn't know you knew about trimesters, sweets. Surprising."

"I'd learn anything, do anything for you." Ron kissed her.

Harry ate silently, but his head sure wasn't empty. When was he going to get a chance to be with that special someone just like Ron and Hermione were? He knew it was selfish to think like this, but he couldn't help it. He, Harry Potter, was the boy who had saved everyone from Voldemort's threat. Basically, he had saved the world, but how had he been rewarded? Residence in an apartment and work in a danger zone.

Harry slept that night thinking about his dream girl, not knowing when she would come along or even if she would at all.

A month flew past Harry's eyes, where the only significant things he could remember were Saturday nights the trio spent at the Burrow with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, or the endless days he ravaged through in the office, taking countless tests and surveys. He was surprised to see that his brain was still in function after all the training he'd done. He hoped it would pay off in the long run. Sometimes he wondered what he was living for now, at the age of twenty-three training to become an Auror after all the Dark activity had died down. What was the purpose of his life? Was it all about getting high marks in training, trying to be the best Auror, and living in a world where Quidditch teams and candy shops were more valuable than relationships with people Sure, Harry had thought about this before in his teens but he had always been occupied with the battles against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, not to mention all the schoolwork teachers piled on him and the other students every day. But now that he was independent, he was starting to question his lack of happiness and meaning in life.

Harry found himself in the office one scorching Saturday. It was July, when the trees' leaves had ripened to the max and the humidity crawled on his skin, producing massive beads of sweat. His job that day was to practice all counter defensive probabilities that could be used in the face of an emergency. He had begun at six in the morning, and now being eleven, he wasn't even through half of them. He was tired and exhausted. Luckily, Neville was accompanying him.

There he was, using the Tetra defense on Neville, where you were supposed to Disapparate three times in purpose of confusing the culprit and then Apparate behind him, when someone crossed the dashed line again. Harry's blood boiled intensely and his head was ready to blow off. He stormed to the line, where he dazedly spotted the back of a woman with long dark flaunted hair.

How many times do I have to tell these people? He raved inside, but to the woman he said, "Hey, hey! Pardon me!" She turned, "You're not allowed to cross that line. You'll have to step back."

She flashed her dark eyes, "Excuse me? See this badge?" She struck her finger on the white rectangular card hoisted around her neck that said Kalirani Ahmar, Ministry Security Manager in sparkling gold letters. Kalirani? What kind of name was that?

"As you can see, my position is extremely above yours. Now, if you don't mind, I'll be getting along. You should get back to your training before I report your misbehavior."

And with that, she was off, her midnight blue cloak fluttering behind her.

"What was that about?" Harry heard Neville speak.

"Don't know. She said she was of a 'higher' authority than me, but I've never seen her before." Her personality was rude and obnoxious. She'd ruined his whole day, and it wasn't even afternoon yet.

"Maybe she is new. She didn't look like a local to me."

"Right. She'd better straighten up her attitude, though." Harry said, while still staring at her back as she trotted past the cubicles and went into the faculty elevator.

A paper flew magically in the air in front of his face.

"Why are you staring? Come on, concentrate." Neville commanded.

"Certainly." Harry smirked, Disapparated once, and Apparated behind Neville without doing it two more times. Harry struck him down, administering great pleasure in the attack, and when he thought of attacks, that woman entered his head. It looked like he wasn't going to have a peaceful day.

Night had settled hours before Harry exited the Ministry of Magic with two injured shoulders, strained arms, and incredibly pained feet. He wouldn't have been surprised if he tipped over, fell, and fainted.

One more injury was ready to worsen his day. Harry saw her again. As he was approaching the telephone booth when he was supposed to type in the five digit code, she advanced and beat him to the spot, taking extra large strides.

Were they destined to bump into each other over and over again?

He knew she had done it to annoy him, and unfortunately, it was working. Frustrated and irritated, he followed her inside the booth.

"I believe I was here first." She mocked, in an upscale snobby voice. Her face was mere inches from his, and even in the dark, he could see her face clearly. Smooth medium beige skin covered her face, with almond shaped eyes and elevated eyebrows that gave away her snotty personality. Her nose was just perfect, partly prominent and medium in length, which gave her the look of a really tall model. Tall, yes. She appeared to be at least three inches taller than him, and Harry had to admit he was intimidated by this.

"Are you deaf?" She spat, "Get out. This is my spot, for now, anyway."

"Look," he eyed her tag again even though he already knew her name, "Kalrio, or whatever your name is. You know I was going to get her first. What is wrong with you?"

Kalirani snorted, "You're asking like you know me. And by the way, it's Kalirani, Kali for short."

"And what makes you think I want to know your name?"

"It would be the reason for why you've looked at my name tag for about a thousand times by now. Oh, wait. It could have been my chest also."

Harry blushed. He couldn't help it. She had won this argument. For today.

"Fine. I'll step out." He opened the glass door, and left, but not before she asked, "What's your name? Just in case I need to report you."

He couldn't believe the nerve of her. Why did she always have to run her mouth off in front of him? Or was she like this with everyone? It was a pretty immature façade at their age.

In response, Harry held his tag in front of her, and she read closely, "Harry Potter. Alright, I'll remember that."

Was she joking? Who hadn't heard of him? And if she wasn't, then Neville must have been right. She looked like a foreigner, maybe somewhere from Asia.

Kali raised her eyes at him as a goodbye and punched in the numbers. Even though he meant to avert his eyes, he was drawn back, and gazed at her as she disappeared.