Hello everybody, I'm tanned, motivated and ready to take you on one final ride. Yes, the story is dragging a bit, but I had a lot to tie in and wrap up before I launch into the final stretch. This story will be done by July 16th. It should be nearly a chapter a week from this point forward. This chapter is my last set up, after this, hold on to your seat.
Beatrice Granger was a muggle in every since of the word. She knew just what her sister had told her about the magical world. Once she had seen the address Number 12 Grimmauld Place scribbled in her sister's journal. She knew it wasn't much to go on, but she felt sure that it had to be someplace of importance. Now, she stood in the slums of London looking at Number 11 and Number 13, but no Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
Beatrice pulled her coat a little closer around her and sighed, another dead end. She turned to leave when a couple boys walked pasted. They didn't look like they fit in this neighborhood. One was wearing a dark cloak, while the other was wearing what looked like an oversized snake for pants.
"Hello Love," one of the boys said flirtatiously as he passed.
Beatrice paused for a second and watched the boys walk up the small narrow porch stairs between the run down houses numbered 11 and 13. Suddenly they disappeared.
"What?" Beatrice said loudly as she tried to follow. She stared at the shared bricks of Number 11 and Number 13 and raised her hand to touch it. It was just a wall.
"What you looking for lass? There be nothing there, those stairs leads to nowhere," said an old beggar laying a few porches down.
Beatrice frowned; "Those two boys, they disappeared."
"What'cha carrying on about? What two boy be you talking about?" the beggar asked with a slight slur probably caused from alcohol.
"The two boys who just passed me on the street, didn't you see them?" Beatrice said with frustration now attempting to knock on the wall.
"I didn't see nott'in. You be the only one who's come up them there stairs," the beggar replied.
Beatrice sighed; "Why is there no Number 12?"
"Never been no Number 12 in Grimmauld Place. Been bumming a resting spot for years, and ain't never seen no Number 12."
Beatrice took a spot on the stairs trying to contemplate what she had just witnessed.
"Best be moving along, lass. If too many of us be bum'in resting spots the bobbies will be shoo'in us off," the beggar said sullenly.
"It's magical," Beatrice concluded, "Muggles can't see it."
Suddenly the boy who had addressed her earlier had appeared next to her again; "You again?"
"How did you do that?" Beatrice demanded as she suddenly found herself at her feet.
"You have a very familiar tone, do I know you?" asked the boy.
Beatrice frowned; "You're a wizard? Aren't you?"
Suddenly the boy smiled; "You're related to Granger aren't you? It's the hair."
Beatrice tiled her head; "If you mean my sister Hermione."
"I knew it. I went to school with your, err sister—Dean," said the boy extending his hand with a cheeky smile.
"Beatrice," she exchanged.
"So, Miss Granger, what brings you to our lovely dwellings this morning? I hope it isn't to locate your sister, we haven't seen her in well… a while."
Beatrice knew what Dean meant. Hermione had basically become a muggle after Ron's death. "No, actually I'm looking for Harry."
"Ah, Potter. Sorry, love, he's gone to China with his fiancé," Dean shrugged.
Beatrice frowned.
"I can give him a message if you'd like," Dean offered.
Beatrice shook her head; "No, I really wanted to speak with him in person."
"So," Dean said slowly allowing his smile to spread a bit wider, "you know Harry fairly well then?"
"Actually, I've never met him," Beatrice confessed, "I just know what my sister has told me about him."
"Yea, Hermione and Harry were pretty close at Hogwarts," Dean nodded.
Beatrice glanced around and noticed the beggar has fallen off to sleep; "Well, I'm sorry to have bothered you. Do you know when might be a good time to come back?"
"To talk to Harry?" Dean added, "Hmm, that's a tough one. I'm one of his roommate and barely see the lad. He's an Auror in training you know. He isn't at the Academy he's with his lady."
"That's what Hermione said—that he was very busy," Beatrice commented in disappointment. "He's studying to be a law enforcement professional."
"Kind of, he's going to hunt down dark wizards and witches," Dean whispered with a wink, "Dangerous work. Do you find that appealing?"
Beatrice grinned; "I'm not sure I get your point, sir."
"Well, I do dangerous work as well. Odd and ends—I'm always up for a good dangerous challenge."
"So what is your current profession?" Beatrice asked.
Dean shrugged; "My best mate owns a floral shop in London Derry. I'm helping him out."
"That's quite a haul to get to work," Beatrice said with a bit of giggle.
Dean winked; "That's the dangerous part. Ever heard of apparation?"
"I've heard Hermione mention it once or twice," Beatrice admitted.
Dean nodded; "Dangerous sort or traveling. Some magical folk can't even do it. They're forced to floo everywhere they go."
"Floo? Oh, the fireplace traveling!" Beatrice said happily, excited to be conversing in magical jargon.
"Exactly! Every traveled by floo powder then?" Dean questioned.
Beatrice frowned, "No, I'm a muggle."
"Seriously? I figured you had to be a witch. You're charming the hell out of me," Dean flirted. "You've got to be hiding a wand behind that back of yours. You've placed me under some kind of enchantment haven't you?"
Beatrice laughed; "No, I swear-- though your comments are flattering."
Dean suddenly lifted his eyebrows; "Care to take a tour?"
"A tour?" Beatrice asked puzzled.
"Of this beautiful estate," Dean said motioning to the brick wall in front of him.
Beatrice frowned; "I'm afraid I can't see it."
Dean's lip curled as he leaned to whisper into her ear; "It's because you haven't learned how to knock properly."
Dean removed his wand and lightly appeared to tap the brick in front of him. As if by magic, the two houses on either side squished apart and a dark looking house suddenly appeared; "Welcome to Number 12 Grimmauld Place."
The potions lab was quite late at night at the Academy. Noel O'Riley often found comfort listening to the delicate brews bubbling. Most potions gave the room an eerie glow as the shadows seemed to dance on the walls in beat with the soothing melodies. However, the comfort could not be found on this night.
Noel carefully crushed her stew beetles as she prepared her sleeping potion. She had hopes that a small draft would help her relax and sleep for a time. Sleep didn't come easily lately. When she did dream she would see visions of Harry dying over and over. She as sure it was a trick Malfoy was playing with her wand, but no amount of Occlemency was going to solve her problem.
She set her beetles back onto the table in front of her and started watching the red bubbles as the rose to the surface of her cauldron. Each one slowly would grown and then suddenly they were gone. They popped over and over again. Some would grown large and some barely left the surface. She was mesmerized.
"Noel, are you alright?"
Noel jumped as her hand flew to her face to wipe away a tear.
"Not making any illicit potions tonight I trust?" December O'Riley asked as she took a peek into the cauldron Noel was working with.
Noel grimaced; "Just a sleeping draught, nothing illegal."
December nodded; "You definitely have your father's passion for potion making."
"Hopefully I don't have his stupidity as well," Noel countered at the mere mention of her father.
December took a seat and studied her niece for a moment; "You're crying—in all the years I've known you I've never seen you cry."
Noel blinked; "I'm just a bit stressed. It's nothing."
"I didn't realize any assessments were coming up," December commented.
Noel shook her head; "Haven't they found someone to replace the Defense Against the Dark Art's Master yet? Surely you're too busy to be here at this time of night."
"Soon hopefully, but I'm not going to abandon my responsibilities," December replied, "I'll be out of your hair soon enough, Noel."
Noel took a deep breath and picked her beetles back up.
"You can talk to me, even if you don't think you can. What's bothering you?" December said softly as she watched her niece.
Noel shook her head slightly; "It's personal, I don't want to talk about it."
"Does it have anything to do with a certain young man?" December asked.
Noel didn't answer.
"Thought so." December concluded.
Noel frowned; "It isn't what you think."
"Then what is it?" December pushed.
Noel sighed; "Have you ever had to make a decision that you didn't want to make?"
"Who hasn't?" December smiled. "So is this choice between two young men?"
Noel closed her eyes tightly, not sure if she should go on. She didn't know if she could trust her aunt. However, this secret inside of her was killing her slowly. She had no friends to talk to and the one person she wanted to talk to, she could never confide this secret in.
"Yes," Noel said quietly.
"You want to wait for one and the other has made you an offer," December guessed.
Noel blinked and shook her head to affirm her aunts guess causing December to smile a bit sympathetically.
"But it's much more complicated than that," Noel interjected. "One of the wizards isn't interested in me at all—we're barely friends. The other I would rather spit on that ever see again. Yet that wizard has made me an offer I'm finding difficult to refuse."
"Loneliness, that is tough sometimes," December nodded, "but you shouldn't settle."
Noel paused for a second and flatly asked, "What is love like?"
December's eyebrows rose; "Love, aye? I can't describe it. It's when you'll do anything for that person, even if it means dying. It's when you feel a pain right here in your chest when you aren't around them. That person suddenly becomes more important than you ever thought anything could be. You'd do anything, regardless how questionable it is to be with them."
December suddenly paused as if she were in deep thought; "But some more practical people don't believe in love. It's a brain function that is part of the reproductive cycle. Nothing more or less."
"What do you think?" Noel asked slowly.
December lowered her eyes; "I think it exist and I know its real, but sometimes when you're too foolish to realize it, you lose it. Oh, Noel, if some young man is willing to give you his heart, don't be a fool like your aunt. Take it and be happy. Don't become a miserable old maid like I did. Love is rare and precious, and no matter how much you want to wait for this boy you think you might love, it isn't worth waiting for. You can't have love with just one person. Both parties have to be in love for it to work."
"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew who these boys were," Noel whispered.
December touched Noel's leg and took a deep breath; "Harry is marrying Cho. You can't throw away your life waiting for him to notice you. Some relationships just aren't meant to be. This other young man is seeing something special in you. I'm sure he's worth you giving him a chance. You never know, he could be the one. Our heart doesn't always know what we truly want. We have to trust fate sometimes."
"Who said I was talking about Potter?" Noel hissed.
"You keep yourself well hidden to prying eyes, but not all your secrets are a closed book," December replied.
"I'll have to do better in remembering to conceal my emotions more carefully in the future," Noel said bitterly as she began to stir her brew.
December sighed; "There isn't anything wrong with your feelings. They're completely normal. I had a crush on my first Auror partner as well. Ralph Kelly, God rest his soul."
"Crush? Is that what you think this is?" Noel spat.
December took another deep breath; "You're young. I'm not saying what you're feeling is a crush, but sometimes feeling can be deceiving. I'm just telling you not to waste your life holding on to a dream. Sometimes what you desire is right in front of you. You're just to blind to see it."
"Thanks for the pearls of wisdom," Noel retorted before pouring a flask of her potion. "Goodnight Aunt December."
"Goodnight," December whispered as Noel swept past her.
The room was spinnig as Padma felt herself collapse into the couch of the flat she shared with her sister Parvati. She felt that the wall was closing in around her. She couldn't breath. The words she had heard just a few hours ago rang continuously in her head. The harder she tried to forget them, the more she remembered.
The one who survived, the one who destroyed. Brought
balance to magic—or so it was told. A cruse will be forge
from the death of a love. Exile, a future of misery and toil.
Padma sobbed quietly brining her legs into her chest. She was never good at these sorts of things. Being a Ravenclaw meant she was prone to over analysis everything. This wasn't too difficult to figure out. It meant only one thing. Cho was doomed to die and Harry was going to be exiled. However, then Padma had re-analyzed it. What if the one who survived was really Neville, and she was doomed to die. It was possible the prophecy was very vague. Then she focused on the death of 'a' love. What if a love was a love from the past. Then it could be talking about Parvati, she did have an affair with Harry once.
Padma drew her knees into her chest as her mind raced with speculations. She was going to drive herself mad! Suddenly a knock at her flat door caused her to sit up.
"Come in," Padma said as she tried to get a hold of herself.
Neville Longbottom had no idea of what he was about to walk into. His puzzled chubby face looked at Padma and then glanced around the room.
"Did something happen?" Neville asked with concern, not understanding why his friend Padma was sobbing.
Padma shook her head softly; "No, I'm just being silly."
"You're never silly," Neville said seriously as he clumsily decided to approach her.
Padma sobbed harder and drew her knees into her chest a little tighter.
"Did something happen with Parvati?" Neville pushed.
Padma wipped the back of her hand across her face and shook her head again.
Neville frowned as he slowly made a move to touch her knee. That was all it took before Padma buckled into his arms and continued her sobs.
"It's okay," Neville attempted.
"No, it isn't okay," Padma cried.
Neville stroked her back softly until her sobs finally started to lessen.
"Did something happened at work?" Neville asked.
Padma whispered, "You know I can't tell you about my work. It's part of my responsibility."
"It must have really upset you," Neville stated.
Padma nodded; "You know I work with prophecies. I heard something aweful today."
"You really don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Neville warned, knowing how much Padma's job meant to her.
Padma blinked a took a breath; "How can they expect me to keep this to myself. I'm going to have a breakdown."
Neville kinda grimaced, thinking that she was already having a breakdown.
"I heard a prophecy about Harry today. At least I think it's Harry... I suppose it could be someone else. I thought it might be you, but that is just silly. You didn't destroy you know who. You were there, you helped by going to get help, but didn't actually destroy anybody."
"Err, Padma," Neville interrupted.
Padma took another deep breath and paused; "It said someone Harry loves, or had loved… it was very vague is going to die and he's going to be exiled."
"But you don't know for sure if it is Harry?" Neville asked.
Padma sobbed again; "What if it's Parvati that dies? I can't live without my sister, and Harry, poor Harry in exile!"
"I'm sure everything is going to be fine," Neville attempted as Padma went back into a fit in his shoulder.
Padma sniffled as she gathered herself a bit; "What am I going to do? I can't just sit around and wait for my sister or one of my friends to die."
"Tell them, warn them," Neville suggested.
Padma scoffed; "I can't, I'll lose my job! Not only that but I could be wrong. I'm not the prophecy labeler, I just categorized them by order of relevance. Ms. Tillmore is in charge of deciding who each prophecy pertains to. She hasn't labeled a prophecy in nearly 19 years."
"I guess that rules out telling Harry to go retrieve and hear the prophecy himself," Neville concluded.
"This is horrible, how am I going to face him and not tell him?" Padma pleaded.
Neville frowned, "If you really think its him, perhaps you should tell him."
"But what if I'm wrong. Then I get him all worried for no reason, and there was no time line. This might not happen for years to come, and then he'll worry about it rest of his life. Most prophecy are better never heard. They can ruin a persons life."
"So you shouldn't tell him," Neville said softly.
Padma nodded; "What I have to live with the fear that my sister could be the one to die! What if Harry kills my sister? I'll never forgive myself, what if I could prevent it?"
"Harry isn't going to kill Parvati," Neville said slowly, though he wasn't completely convinced. "Everybody dies eventually. You already know that, so why worry about it. You said yourself you didn't even know if Harry is one the prophecy is talking about. You can't let his prophecy ruin your life."
"But," Padma tried.
"You don't know anything for more certain than you did before you heard it. Your sister is going to die someday and so is everybody else," Neville continued, "You can't worry about it. Prophecy don't always come true you know."
Padma nodded; "Your right… can you stay here awhile with me? I just need awhile to let this all settle in. It's been a long day."
Neville forced a smile and ignored his grumbling belly; "I suppose the Leaky Cauldron will still be there in a couple hours."
Padma gave him a watery smile and nuzzled her head into his chest.
Harry sipped his soup slowly as his eyes watched Mr. Chang from across the dinner table. Mr. Chang has accepted him, though it didn't that way sometimes.
"No, Boo, you can leave this dish," Mr. Chang instructed his house elf.
Cho look at her father and smiled; "I really am enjoying my new job, father. Really, December O'Riley is a wonderful person to work under."
Mr. Chang nodded; "I'm just glad you are not going through this Auror nonsense anymore. It has caused you enough grief."
"I'm still working against the Dark Rising, and I'm still a member of the Order," Cho commented as her smile disappeared slightly.
"Yes, and of course Harry is still in Auror training," Mr. Chang said shortly, "So, when are we planning this wedding? Dumbledore suggest it be a quite event due to the vampire threat."
Cho sighed, "Darthanyia hasn't made contact since mum died. I think things are safe on that front. We've sent many raids to make sure the Vampire colonies are in check and Darthanyia is reportedly ded."
"He who must not be named is suppose to be dead as well, but we aren't so sure about that now are we?" Mr. Chang challenged.
"It will be a quite event, sir," Harry jumped in, "I don't want to take any risks. My intentions are not to put your daughter in harms way. I want to protect her."
"If you want to protect her, you should resign from your post as an Auror. Your job puts my daughter in danger."
"Harry is doing is duty. It wouldn't be fair to ask him to give that up," Cho retorted.
"Still, with the dangers lurking bout, both of you would be safer living in China," Mr Chang said quickly before sipping another spoonful of his soup.
"Regardless where we live, we're in danger. You can't run from this rising. We can't run from our responsibility. They found us in China father. This mountain is no more safe than Harry's home in London."
"Where you've been staying," Mr. Chang threw in with a look of diappointment.
Cho frowned, "Yes, I've been staying with Harry—but I have my own room, father. I'm not wanting to disappoint you."
"I would never do anything to hurt your daughter sir. That is why I want to marry her," Harry interjected. "My house is well protected with many charms. It's the safest house in London."
"I found it easily enough," Mr. Chang charged.
"That isn't fair. You were part of the Order. You knew where it was. You once thought there were things worth fighting for, worth dying for. What happened to you."
Mr. Chang's face turned hard; "I discovered the price was too great."
"Miss. Cho, there is an message for you in the fireplace. It's Miss. O'Riley," Boo interrupted as he lightly tugged on Cho's sleeve.
Cho nodded; "Excuse me a moment. She is probably letting me know about the progress on the missing Giant colony we've been tracking."
Mr. Chang rose from his seat as his daughter left the room and Harry fumbled behind his example. After retaking his seat Mr. Chang studied Harry and let out a soft grumble.
"I disappoint you?" Harry asked.
Mr. Chang wave his hand; "No, you have proven your worth, by saving my life and my daughter's."
"But you don't approve of me marrying your daughter?" Harry asked.
Mr. Chang sighed; "I just don't know if you are ready for the responsibilities that will come with Cho. She is not a simple girl. She has much burden that comes with her. This vampire curse."
"Cho isn't a vampire. The healers at the Academy have done wonderful things, and she'll a normal life. They said it will only get better as time passes."
"She isn't normal. She has seen much tragedy," Mr. Chang argued.
Harry grimaced; "So have I."
Cho suddenly rushed back into the room with panic etched across her face; "Harry, there has been another attack, at the Ministry.."