Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Showdown

Harry himself slipped into the stockroom to quickly disrobe from his feminine attire. His entourage then trooped behind him as he made his way to the front of the shop and out the door accompanied by Ron, still in his lady's finery. Harry and Ron milled around on the main road, window shopping and engaging in casual conversation. They tried to act as much a happy couple as propriety and good sense would allow. With out the television people hovering, it was an easy masquerade for the two old friends.

Then, without warning, Buttercup swooped down on the two conspirators and began a slow drawing kiss on Harry's mouth. Ron threw himself on Harry, shielding his face, which broke Buttercup's breath. Fred, who had rushed out of Weasley's only a second before, turned his mighty glowing waffle unto Buttercup. She reared back like a dragon in pain, but didn't exactly leave entirely. She circled the shops along Hogsmeade's, waiting for her next opportunity.

Buttercup flew over the tops of the picaresque village structures, out of sight to everyone. "I don't think she's gone, Harry," Hermione said breathlessly from the storefront.

"Yes, don't let down your guards," cautioned George.

"What?" cried Fred, Ron and Harry in unison, not hearing either of them for the high pitched squel coming from on high. Just then, Buttercup rushed downward in a death spiral, heading straight for Fred. Reaching him, it was a simple task to begin his own death kiss, as his mouth had been agape at the sight of her form soaring towards him. Harry was impeded by Ron, who had fallen over onto him quite by accident, as he too stared into the sky at the specto of unhappiness and tripped over his own size eleven, two-inch heeled red pumps.

Luckily, George had streaked out of their shop wielding his own wand in hopes of saving his twinkie. "Expecto Patronum!" he yelled at the tops of lungs, aiming squarely at Buttercup, all the while thinking about the time he'd enchanted Mrs. Norris' four footies would be equipped with a changing array of footwear, ranging from Pocahontas-style moccasins to five inch stilettos. The variety of footwear came with its own accompaniment of complimentary song. The geisha clogs rang out with "I'm Turning Japanese-a." Teenie tiny wellies belted out "Singing in the Rain" in falsetto. Little Bierkenstocks came replete with the original Iron Butterfly rendition of "Inna Godda Da Vida." It was enough- Buttercup retreated to the air hanging oppressively above the group, as George's new patronus emerged from the end of the wand in the unmistakable shape of a gyrating Elvis- the young one.

Onec he'd gained his breath and composure, Fred again produced the golden waffle, thinking fondly of his first taste of Godiva chocolate. With George's and Fred's quite compatible patroni creating a protective shield, Harry shouted up into the sky at Buttercup. If Trelawney was able to communicate with her, so could he.

"Buttercup!" Harry shouted, "I need to talk to you. My father wasn't to blame for your loss. He didn't kill Samanski."

A strange, whiney cackle emitted from the wraith in black. "Why would you expect me to trust you, Potter?"

"Because I kow the truth!" Harry yelled back his reply. Something about his open face and unwavering voice made Buttercup stop her flitting and flying through the avenue. "Well then?"

Harry knew he'd best cut to the chase if he didn't want Buttercup lurking above throughout his adulthood. "The mushroom wasn't meant for Samanski... it was meant for you." The slow, graceful drifting of Buttercup lower and lower to street level told Harry he'd gotten her attention. Lacking a true face to read thoughts and anticipate reactions, Harry could only surmise her lack of danger to him as he continued speaking. He softly instructed Fred and George to lower their wands, keeping their waffle and Elvis patroni in view, but allowing Buttercup to descend. Directly facing Harry, Buttercup slowly asked, "why did James want to kill me?"

"No, no, Buttercup. My father didn't want you- or anyone- dead. It wasn't him. It was Trelawney. She was in love with Samanski, and knew the only way to have a chance with him was to get you out of the way."

Harry went on to share what he, George, Hermione and Ron had discovered as they had played sleuth to solve the cold case file. "We were suspicious right from the start of how much Trelawney knew about you, Samanski and what happened the night he died. Although everything she said was confirmed by old news reports from the Daily Prophet and other interviews, she had details that only someone there could have known. When we retraced our steps with people we'd already talked to, we got surprising new information by focusing on Trelawney."

Ron boldly stepped in, having seen that Harry had effectively disarmed the dementor. "Lupin told us that James had spurred Trelawney's attentions, already being in love with Lily. Pinning the crime on him would be sweet revenge. Snape had borrowed 2 Galleons from Trelawney at the refreshment shack moments before James and Samanski were there- putting her at the scene. Sprout mentioned participating in a Herbology study group with her- and prepping her for a test on poisonous mushrooms. Flitwick recalled seeing Trelawney levitate a large casserole of beef stroganoff in front of Samanski in a desperate attempt to win his affections..."

Ron couldn't continue over the plaintive wail Buttercup let out in response to this last bit of information.

"Stroganoff casserole was his favorite," crooned Buttercup, sobbing uncontrollably. Deflated, Butercup floated towards Hogwarts Castle, bobbing occasionally like a bottle on the surf, all the while howling in restored grief.

"Poor Buttercup. I almost feel sorry for her," Fred said.

"Yeah, but not half as much was I almost feel for Trelawney," Harry continued.

"I just hope she doesn't turn into a flower child dementor," mused George.