Note: A bit delay in posting, since fanfic net was down (for me) most of the day! Sorry! If this site ever goes belly up, you can always find me and the story at ao3 - under Velvethope :)
Chapter 5: Familiar
The day before Harry was supposed to leave London, he dropped in on Ron and Hermione for a late breakfast/early lunch. Ron was working at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes later, but he had the morning and afternoon free. Harry admired their flat – it was in Diagon Alley and near the shop and relatively small, but the other couple had already made it very homey and comfortable. Hermione had tea with Harry in their breakfast "nook" while Ron cooked them something to eat. Something that smelled rather delicious to Harry's nose.
Hermione pursed her lips at her boyfriend as she grabbed her things off the counter.
"He's showing off, you know."
Harry grinned at her. "Lucky me."
"Save me a piece, would you?" she said to Ron as she reached up and kissed his cheek. Ron saluted her and then turned back to his beans. Hermione waved to Harry, and then she was off; she had a full day of helping out at Hogwarts and meeting with McGonagall and her co-head, Daphne Greengrass. Something to do with continuing a debate about pushing the first year's sorting later into the school year so that the kids had a better idea of which house they wanted to be in.
"What are we eating, anyway?" Harry asked, getting up for more tea. Ron gave him a cocky smile.
"Hermione's a bit put out because she loves this particular dish. We're having ham and cheese quiche with beans a la Ronald. You'll love it." Ron paused and then nodded at the loaf of bread sitting off to the side. "Could you slice a couple, Harry? I need to keep stirring these. I'll fry them in a tic."
"Sure," Harry said. He started working on the fresh bread, his mouth-watering. Just then, a small ding went off in the kitchen, and Ron eagerly opened the oven door.
"Ah-ha! Perfect." He used his wand to lift the pie-dish out of the oven and floated it over to the table. Harry took in a deep breath; it smelled divine. He realized he'd missed Ron's cooking, and he hadn't really had it since Thorn Rose Cottage.
Once they were settled, with beans on toast for each of them and a healthy slice of quiche, the two friends ate in companionable silence for a while.
Harry finally stopped eating to breathe and shook his head at his friend. "This is bloody fantastic, Ron. You're brilliant at cooking."
The tips of Ron's ears turned pink, but he looked pleased. "It's nothing really. The quiche is Mum's old recipe, and well, the beans…it's a just few secret ingredients I toss in to 'posh' them up a bit."
"Well, whatever you did, it's heavenly," Harry admitted, getting up to for a second helping.
"So when do you think you and Ginny will be back from Ireland? Are you going to be there the whole summer or…?" Ron asked when Harry sat back down again.
Harry chewed thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. If we're successful on our first attempt, then we'll come home. I want to start building the house before the weather turns too wet and cold in Scotland. If we don't succeed…well, I'm trying not to think of it too much, to be honest."
"I hope you're preparing yourselves, though," Ron said, after a moment, sounding oddly solemn. "In case it doesn't work." Harry could tell his friend had put a lot of thought into what he was about to say. "I mean, Ginny digs her heels in as much as you do, and I hate to think of the both of you disappointed and broken-hearted."
"I know, and…well, we'll be all right, I think. I just have this feeling that it'll be okay," Harry said. And he did really feel that way, he realized, he wasn't just saying it this time.
"The reason I asked is…well, I'm thinking of, well, you know, asking Hermione, and I want you and Ginny and Brogan if you guys succeed, to be here for it. It wouldn't be the same without you. All of you."
Harry stared at Ron. "What are you talking about? Asking Hermione what?"
Ron's face turned a bit red, and he quickly took a drink of water and cleared his throat. He gave Harry a pointed look. "You know, ask her? As in, ask her to marry me? I want us to have the first bonding before school starts."
Harry suddenly felt stupid. "Oh. Oh! I didn't know you were…I mean, of course, you…."
"And I want you and Ginny to stand up for us, too."
"But surely you want one of your brothers-"
"Harry," Ron said, his voice as serious as Harry had ever heard his friend. "You are one of my brothers, and I hope you know that. And not just because you're marrying my sister, either, you git."
Harry looked away, feeling a watery sting behind his eyes, which meant he might cry and he felt touched at Ron's words. He looked back at his friend and forced a smile to appear instead.
"Thanks. I…I feel the same way."
"Thank Merlin," Ron said, suddenly grinning. "You had me worried there."
"Why? Do you honestly doubt that you're my best friend?"
"Well, no. But I don't know. It's silly. I just feel as though we've drifted apart a bit this last year, what with everything going on with you and er, Brogan and Ginny and…me and Hermione. I want us to be close like we used to be."
Harry wanted to protest, but he knew Ron would not listen, nor would it be very truthful. They had drifted apart a bit, which he reckoned was just a normal part of growing up. But Harry also knew that he, Ginny, and Brogan had, by necessity, become their own little group. Which had meant cutting Ron and Hermione out of his life, in a way. Not entirely, of course, and not wholly, but it was enough of a change to be noticed, and he could see how Ron may have felt left out or no longer needed.
"I'm sorry," he finally said.
Ron finished up eating and then sat back from the table, scrunching up his face a bit. He finally gave Harry a slight smile.
"I get it. Trust me. And I don't…I don't blame you or anything like that. It just happened. But, blimey, this is hard to talk about. No wonder Hermione always rolls her eyes at me. Let's just both try to make an effort?"
Harry nodded. Ron shook himself and started cleaning up. Harry helped him, and they soon had the kitchen looking spotless, as well as a big piece of the quiche set aside for Hermione to eat later.
"Come to the shop with me. I feel like we've been far too serious for our own good. Fred can show you around the test lab. You can see our latest creations in action, as it were," Ron said. "We've got some doozies lined up in the wings."
"All right, yeah," Harry said. Of course, he had a few more things to do before he left, but Harry couldn't seem to get motivated. Instead, an afternoon spent marveling at the latest jokes and gadgets the Weasley brothers had come up with sounded like just what he needed.
o-o-o-o-o
"Oh, but I missed you," Ginny said, reluctantly lifting her head from where it had fallen onto Harry's chest. He snuggled closer, and she felt his arms wrap around her. Much like their greetings of old – she had expressed her desire for him before he'd even made it to the sofa. She smirked as she looked around at their clothes strung all around them in a mess.
"I can tell, and I'm thrilled to be back," Harry said, sighing happily.
"Successful trip then?" she asked as they eventually sat up. Harry looked around them, also amused at the mess, and jerked his head at the sofa. She nodded, and they helped each other up. They collapsed into a tangled mess of body parts without a hint of embarrassment, she was proud to note. They eventually arranged themselves so that Ginny lay across his lap, her back against the sofa arm as he rested his hands on her legs.
"Very much so. I have pictures to show you, too. And…well, I know I said I would wait before putting a deposit down, but I went ahead and did it, Gin. The idea of someone else coming along and snatching that particular piece of land out from under us was very motivating."
Harry held out his hand and concentrated on the bag he'd dropped by the door when she'd practically jumped him. A few minutes later, he was opening a yellow and green envelope filled with the pictures he'd taken. He showed them to her in order, which drove her nuts, but when he finally revealed the plot of land he'd already claimed, she was in love with it.
"Oh! It's perfect looking and the trees, oh, we can't get rid of them! We're keeping them? Yes?" Ginny paused as Harry nodded. "And it's so lush and green and…do I even want to know how much this is going to cost?"
"No. But Remus assured me it was a very reasonable price because no one's been buying land near the school these last couple of years. For some odd reason." Harry's voice was deadpan.
Ginny grinned. "Hmm, yes, wonder why. I like that we got in there before the mad rush. But, I trust Remus to steer you, well, us, the right way. He doesn't strike me as the frivolous type."
As Harry filled her in on the rest of his trip, she rested her head against him, counting the small group of pale freckles he had across his collarbone. She didn't realize he'd stopped talking for a moment. When she looked up at him, he had a smirk on his face.
"What?" she asked, playing innocent.
"You didn't hear a word I just said. Admit it."
"No, I won't. Because I did. You said he and Tonks were over the moon about living at Grimmauld Place and that students were already moving in before you'd left London. I hope they cleaned out our personal things first."
Harry looked impressed that she'd heard all of that. "They did. Tonks is still on leave. Personal time, not medical, her arm's healed nicely, by the way. She attacked the house with Dobby's help, of course, cleaning it from top to bottom. I actually wanted to ask her if she'd been possessed by your mum somehow."
Ginny snorted.
"I didn't get to see your parents this trip," Harry continued. "But Ron assured me they're fine. Fred's dating Angelina Johnson, did you know that?"
"George told me."
"It was truly frightening to see your brother acting like…." Harry paused as though searching for the right word.
"Like what? A love-sick fool?"
"No, like an adult. He's changed a bit, Gin. But then I reckon we all have in small ways." Harry started gently massaging her legs. "And Ron told me he's going to ask Hermione to marry him."
"No!" Ginny exclaimed. "When? Does he have a ring already?"
Harry gave her a bewildered look. "Yes. And he wants to do it after we all come back home. He says he wants us around to celebrate with, and that includes Brogan, by the way, and er, I have no idea if he has a ring or not. Didn't ask."
Ginny pursed her lips at him. "Men. You never ask the right questions, Harry!"
Harry snorted as he shook his head at her and then just shrugged. Ginny thought she might need to write Ron a letter and get him sorted before he did something horrible and buy Hermione an ugly ring. Harry suddenly sobered and gave her a guarded look.
"I…erm, I spoke to Solace, by the way."
He wouldn't meet her eyes, so Ginny could quickly figure out what their talk had been about. She sighed.
"Well, is he upset with us? Thinks we're fools? Or did he wish us luck?" she finally asked.
Harry looked relieved that she wasn't mad at him for telling Brogan's father what they had planned.
"He wasn't upset, no. And I don't think he thinks we're fools, exactly. We had a pretty serious, non-antagonistic heart to heart about it all, and I think he understands more…about how much we love his son. So it was a good thing, really. And yes, he did wish us luck."
Ginny kissed his shoulder, and they held hands, silent for a moment. Harry cleared his throat and looked at her.
"I thought you'd be mad at me, to be honest."
Ginny shrugged. "Well, as it happens, I have something to come clean about too."
"Oh?"
"I…I did the spell again. To visit Brogan. We talked a bit…time is passing so quickly for him, love. He thought we had already tried, failed, and then given up on him. And it's just not his natural tendency to think of the bad stuff first, either. For him, our visit felt like it was months ago. He was shocked to learn it had only been a few days for us."
"That's terrible," Harry said. "I'm glad you did it again without me then. Was he reassured?"
"I hope I managed to convince him we weren't giving up on him. He…" Ginny paused and looked at Harry's bracelet, suddenly remembering. "Something weird has happened with him and the bracelet, though. Did you notice it when you saw him?"
Harry looked thoughtful. "No, I don't remember seeing anything odd. Of course, I wasn't exactly staring at his wrists."
Ginny smirked despite the somber mood and poked Harry with her elbow. "I bet."
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. What about his bracelet? What's happened?"
"It's not a bracelet anymore, it's…it's become a tattoo. It's like a part of him now."
Harry looked astonished at that bit of news. "What? Why? And how?"
Ginny snickered; he sounded like he worked for The Daily Prophet. All that was missing was the Who? "We don't know, and Brogan said that even Aine didn't know why it had happened. Have you ever come across anything in your reading about that occurring?"
Harry shook his head. "No, not even a hint. How…how utterly bizarre." He cast a sideways glance at her. "How long did you get to speak to him this time?"
Ginny felt her face heat, knowing what he was getting at. She pursed her lips. "A fair amount. I controlled myself, thank you. Er, well, at first. Um…it was quite intense this time, actually. He's so lonely, Harry. I felt it quite clearly this time."
Harry frowned at that, looking sad for a moment. He finally gave her a small grin. "No wonder you really missed me and jumped me at the door."
"Harry! That's not even, oh, shut it."
Harry chuckled and pulled her into his arms. He kissed the end of her nose, a fond look on his face. Ginny shifted until she was in his lap properly and felt him stir against her. She looked down and then back up at him, smiling.
"Seems we have a return to form down here, Harry."
"I may have just missed you too."
"Let's head to the bed, and you can tell me all about it," Ginny suggested, standing up. She grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him to his feet, and he looked down at her, amusement on his face.
"What if I want to use my mouth for other things?"
"I'll allow it."
"Oh, shoot, I almost forgot," Harry said, suddenly turning back around. She watched as he hurried over to his rucksack and pulled out a small pink box. She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Dobby managed to give this to me right before I left. He also included extra syrup, and I'm sure it's still good." He lifted the flap of the box and showed her the delicious-looking (and smelling) treacle tart. She grinned at Harry.
"Bless you, Harry Potter. You go all the way to Hogwarts and figure out a way to bring a little piece of it back, just for me."
"Well, I wanted to eat some too," Harry said as she took it from him, pouting. Ginny reached inside and broke off a little taste, plopping it into her mouth. Ah yes, the house-elves treacle tart. Almost as good as her mum's. She slipped a finger into the extra syrup and then put it in her mouth, letting it slide back out slowly as she gazed at Harry. He watched her and swallowed a bit roughly.
"Have I mentioned I love you? And I love treacle tart, and I think I should somehow combine these two loves and er, well, enjoy them together."
Ginny chuckled as she turned around to head back to the bedroom. "All right, Harry. But you're cleaning up the mess."
He moved behind her and stopped her before she got to the bed, and she could feel his arousal at her back and shivered in response.
"It's a deal, Gin," he said, voice rough.
Ginny grinned up at him and then dipped her hand into the box again, letting the treacle coat her fingers. They were going to have some fun.
o-o-o-o-o
"Um, next time I have some crazy idea about mixing sex and sticky substances? Talk me out of it," Harry said, frowning at the sheets on their bed. Apparently, treacle was bad for bed covers. Ginny could only laugh as she tidied up the living area from their earlier tryst. She handed Harry his clothes and then quickly put hers back on.
"I'm sure if you head down to the kitchens, they can steer you in the direction of housekeeping," she said. She didn't hear what Harry mumbled, but a moment later, she saw the sheets from the other bedroom come flying past her, and she tsked at him.
"I'll sort it later," Harry promised, vanishing the dirty sheets away with a wave of his wand. She left him to get dressed as she grabbed her books and put them on their desk in the study.
"This," Ginny said after Harry joined her. "Is our list of things to get before we leave next week." She handed him a copy of her parchment.
"Where are we staying?" Harry asked.
"Oh, George said Kath held a room back for us, so we'll stay with them. It's all arranged, apparently," Ginny said. She had heard back from her brother while Harry was away. She'd been relieved, actually, because every local inn around the Lough Gur area had appeared to be sold out after the few inquiries Mr Cosgrove had done for her. She'd been worried they'd have to borrow her dad's old tent to sleep in or something.
"There's a lot here," Harry said, conjuring up another chair and joining her. "We have most of this, which honestly, Gin, is a testament to you and your research, but Solace offered to help us get anything we needed. Maybe we should ask for it?"
"You're thinking of that bottom item, I take it?" Ginny said, nodding at the end of the list. She had to admit, it was the one item she didn't know how they could secure.
"Well, yeah. What were you thinking of doing for it?"
"I wasn't, actually. Why do you think it is at the bottom? I wasn't going to worry about it until I was frantic."
Harry gave her a skeptical look. "Nice plan."
Ginny shrugged. "Well, it'd be ideal if we could get our hands on the piece they actually made the necklace and ring out of, but…I'm not sure that's possible."
"That shop is still there!" Harry suddenly exclaimed. "I saw it when Remus, Ron, and I were in Hogsmeade, and I remember it especially because Luna was looking in its window. A lot of the shops closed down when Voldemort moved in and haven't re-opened yet, but that one is definitely open!"
"But what are the chances they have a large quantity of Waystone just sitting around, Harry?"
"Doesn't hurt to ask," Harry said, gazing at her. "And, we'll let Solace inquire about it. I think he wants to feel…useful."
"All right," Ginny conceded. "I'll you handle that part, shall I?"
"Thanks," Harry said dryly. She gave him a sickeningly sweet smile for effect as he rolled his eyes.
"I knew there was a reason I got Hedwig back for you," Ginny teased.
"I'm sure she appreciates that, too. Don't you, Hedwig?"
They glanced to the spot that Harry's owl had claimed as her own, the top of the bookcase behind them. As if understanding them, Hedwig hooted and then spread her wings out. A few moments later, she glided down to the desk and pecked at Harry affectionately. Harry grinned and pet his owl in the way that Ginny knew she liked. She made a mental note to herself to pick up some owl treats when they went to Maeve's Hollow. Speaking of which…
"What time it, Harry?" she asked as he started writing his letter to Solace. He glanced at his watch.
"Hmm, a little bit after four. Why?"
"Feel like going into town? We can cross some more things off our list and get Hedwig some treats."
Ginny reached and stroked Hedwig on the other side, and the owl fluffed her feathers in apparent agreement with that plan.
"You just want to eat in that pub again," Harry said, smiling.
"Well, yes," Ginny admitted, standing up to look for her shoes, and she eventually found them sticking out from under the sofa. She sat back down at the desk. "They do have fairly traditional food for dinner, I noticed, and I thought I should eat the dishes first before I try cooking them."
Harry finished his letter, Hedwig jumping up on his shoulder when he attached it to her. "Let's go and send Hedwig first, then Apparate there."
Ginny nodded as she grabbed one of her robes since she assumed they'd still be in town after the sun went down. They made quick work of sending Hedwig off, who hooted indignantly at Harry when he told her to be careful, and they watched her fly away until turning to head towards the Apparation point.
"All right, what Irish dish are you attempting next?"
"Boxty."
"Bless you."
"Harry." Ginny nudged him with her shoulder. "It's a type of…well, I reckon it's a pancake? But with potatoes. There are various things you can do to it…hmm, the book said, 'Boxty on the griddle, Boxty on the pan, if you can't make Boxty, you'll never get a man'."
Harry snorted at her. "Seriously, Gin?"
"It looked easy and sort of delicious," she said, shrugging. She felt self-conscious, suddenly.
"All right, all right…Brogan probably loves Boxty, knowing him, if it's savory."
"Well, there was also good old Irish stew with mutton, but…I didn't know where I would be able to find mutton nowadays without access to a farm."
"What is mutton, exactly?"
"Lamb, I think?"
"Then why don't they just use lamb?"
"I don't know, something about the age of the sheep?" Ginny said, shrugging.
"Wow, quite the education we're getting on foodstuffs here in Ireland," Harry said, his voice dry, but his eyes were alight with mischief.
"Oh, shut it," Ginny finally said, shaking her head. "I was going to try to make treacle tart next, for you, you big git, but if you're just going to take the piss-"
"Sorry," Harry said, grinning. He stopped and kissed her gently. "Do you want to have a farm? We're almost landowners, you know. You can have anything you want."
"No, not really. We had chickens when I was growing up. We had pigs too, once, but they ate too much, Mum said. I think she just didn't like killing them."
"So no sheep."
Ginny shook her head. "No sheep. So no mutton."
"Devastating," Harry said, smiling.
"Yes, I can sense your disappointment."
"Did I mention Dobby asked to come live with us when we get the house built? To help, and I am directly quoting him here, "take care of the little ones, Harry Potter, sir!"."
"Did you explain to him that your Wheezy is a modern witch and has no plans to be tied down by little ones before she's even 21?"
Harry laughed. "No, but I did let him know it'd be a awhile before we'd need him for that particular job. He was most put out at the news."
"Brilliant. Not only will I disappoint my mum, but now I'm disappointing house-elves. Oh, the pressure of being female in this world."
Harry chuckled and Apparated first. Ginny quickly followed him and couldn't help the smile that filled her face as she looked around. Maeve's Hollow was quickly becoming their home away from home. They'd even taken to touching the blue police box for luck, as it was a Maeve's Hollow tradition every time a person arrived. Today the town had bright banners and flowers on every lamppost, and everything looked quite festive.
"Looks like they're having a bit of a 'do," Harry said as she took hold of his hand.
They could hear music – pipes, mostly, but the closer to town they drew, the more diverse it became. They heard fiddles, drums, and other musical miscellanies. There were small booths set up across both lanes of the high street, with a fair amount of people milling around. There was also the rich smell of food being cooked out in the open and since all Ginny had had since Harry got back was treacle tart (and Harry himself, she thought with a wry grin), she realized she was starving.
"Excuse me, what's the occasion today?" Harry stopped and asked at the first booth they reached. An older woman with purple and blue hair grinned at them. Ginny was also impressed with her clearly Muggle combat boots and long maroon skirt.
"Aye, it's the Fleadh Cheoil na hÉireann. Or the wizard equivalent. Close to it as we can get around here."
"And that is?" Ginny asked politely. She tried to look apologetic for not understanding Gaelic.
"Music festival, love. There's lots of food, good songs, and even better cider and whiskey flowing. Enjoy yourselves, eh?"
Harry and Ginny nodded and smiled at each other. The closer they strolled, the louder the din became, and there was quite the huddle of people down the high street.
"I'm starving," Ginny announced, and Harry chuckled.
"All right, let's eat first. What smell's the best?"
They decided to try a booth set down a less crowded street that boasted traditional Irish fare, and they claimed a small space in the grass behind it to eat. Harry had a giant turkey leg with a small bowl of perfectly-fried chips, and Ginny had opted for the Irish coddled pork with cider, all nicely tucked into a bread bowl. It was so good she didn't even try to steal one of Harry's chips.
Ginny watched the various witches and wizards around them, noting the families with the little ones. She glanced at Harry. One day that would be them, she was sure. She wondered if they would ever bring their children to Ireland one day.
"Definitely," Harry said now, looking at her in amusement. "I'd want to share it with all of our children. I've mostly been happy in Ireland, and hopefully, you have too. Why wouldn't we share that?"
"Did you just read my mind?"
Harry laughed. "No, but I felt your emotion quite clearly through the link."
Just then, a group of strolling minstrels walked by, singing boisterously. The group stopped in the middle of the street. Ginny and Harry listened to them for a bit as the quality of the music drew more people in to hear.
Harry kissed her as he leaned closer to her, tucking her hair behind her ear. His eyes were full of happiness, and Ginny grinned back, feeling very light inside. The musicians eventually moved on, the crowd dispersing with them. Harry helped her up, and they wandered into the town proper. They left the activity and booths behind them, but they could still hear the music. There was a golden light in the air as the sun started to set behind them.
"This reminds me of when we visited Galway and that market we visited, do you remember?" Harry asked her.
"Yes. Of course, I do! We had Chinese food for the first time that day, and we should go back with Garrett the next time he makes a trip."
"It's a date," Harry said, kissing her hand.
They passed the local menagerie just then, and Ginny made to go in and get Hedwig her treats when Harry wandered off to the side, moving in between two of the buildings.
"Harry?"
"Shh, I thought I heard something… ah-ha." He bent down, and suddenly Ginny heard it too, the sad, almost piteous mewing of a kitten. Harry turned to her, and she saw he was holding precisely that- it had a calico coat of dark brown, black, and orange. The kitten had huge yellow-green eyes as she first looked at Harry and then at Ginny.
"Aw," Harry said, petting the cat gently. "Where's your Mum, eh, little one?"
"Let's ask in the shop," Ginny said as she looked around the darkened alleyway. There was no sign of any other kittens around.
The shopkeeper smiled at them as they entered, and they showed the kitten to her.
"Aye, she's a bit of a runt, I think. I had a calico half-kneazle here a few weeks back, but I sold it to a witch from Cork. I didn't know she'd had a litter, huh. But I say, I think you two have found a new friend."
And indeed, they had. Ginny giggled as the kitten clutched to Harry's robe, its tiny claws spread wide as he tried to detach it. But the kitten only moved higher and was soon sitting on Harry's shoulder like it had just found its new favorite place to survey from.
"Is it really part kneazle?" Ginny asked, reaching up to tenderly pet the kitten. It immediately started to purr in response.
"Aye, hang on, let's check." The shopkeeper fetched her wand and then aimed it at the kitten. There was a sort of golden glow around the kitten, and then it slowly faded. The shopkeeper nodded.
"It is indeed. Well, I can't charge you for the kitten since you found her on your own, but I can get you well-stocked for raising a wee one. What do you say?"
Harry looked at Ginny expectedly, and she could already tell what the answer was going to be. It seemed like they had a new pet, and she hoped Hedwig was okay with it.
o-o-o-o-o
"How about Niamh?" Ginny asked as Harry played with the kitten on their bed. They'd come home from Maeve's Hollow loaded with kneazle and cat toys, as well as food and other items. The shopkeeper had probably wanted to marry them both with all the money they'd spent.
"Hmm, what does that mean?"
"Uh," Ginny looked at her book. "Radiance."
"Hmm, but she's so dark, though."
"She's got white and orange in her coat, too," Ginny insisted. She'd already read through what felt like a million names, and Harry hadn't been happy with any.
"She's got so much spirit," Harry said, practically giggling as the kitten swiped at his fingers. "What's Irish for sassy? I mean, other than Ginevra."
Harry looked over his glasses at her, smirking, and Ginny snorted. She flipped through the book Harry had picked up – Magical Irish Names and their Meanings – at the other bookshop in town (neither of them had wanted to go into The Broken Quill).
"Hmm, Dana means bold and lively," Ginny said. She rolled the name around on her tongue to try it out. "Do-na. I like it, and it'll go great with all the times we tell her not to do something. Don't do that, Do-na!"
Harry picked the kitten up and cooed at it. Ginny thought they should name the kitten heart stealer – as that was exactly what it had done to both of them – Harry especially. She'd always thought Harry was a dog person, but apparently, he was just an animal person in general.
"She needs something pretty," Harry said, nuzzling the kitten. He then handed her to Ginny. "Here, hold her and let me look for a bit. You're about ready to call her old shoe and be done with it."
Ginny smiled as the kitten purred and wrapped itself into the crook of her arm. The kitten raised her small head and looked at Ginny, her tiny paw reaching up. A moment later, Ginny pursed her lips as the kitten tried to swipe at her hair. She was definitely playful.
"How about this?" Harry held the book out to her.
"Roisin?"
"You pronounce it ro-sheen. It means "little rose." I like it." He lowered his head down to the kitten. "How about you, munchkin, do you like Roisin? Are you a little rose? Hmm? Yes, you are, aren't you? So pretty."
Ginny just stared at him, and she had a sinking feeling in her stomach about their future life as parents.
"Harry, you are going to utterly spoil any kids we have in the future, aren't you? Especially if we have a girl."
Harry looked blankly at her. "What do you mean?"
Ginny just shook her head. She lifted the kitten up, and it mewed, playfully swiping at her hair again.
"Roisin it is then. Hope Brogan likes cats."
"I just hope he's not allergic," Harry said, looking around. "Half of her is already all over the bed."
Roisin mewled rather loudly and sounded rather indignant that such a thing could be held against her. Harry laughed.
"Maybe we should put her down for the night," Ginny suggested, as Roisin yawned and quite widely at that.
Harry nodded and got up, carrying the kitten to the bed they'd picked out for it. They both watched as Roisin walked around in a circle before finally settling into the corner. She yawned again and stretched, her front paws opening and closing as it started to knead on the side of the pet bed. Harry made an affectionate noise as he sat back on their bed, clearly infatuated. Ginny smirked at him.
"I had no idea you liked cats so much, Harry."
"Me either, honestly. But there's something about her…did you know my parents had one when I was a baby? I found an old letter from my Mum to Sirius while at Grimmauld Place, and she mentions that I scared the poor thing to death, practically. I was apparently flying around on a little broomstick, striking fear into the hearts of all."
"So your flying technique really hasn't changed much," Ginny said as they moved and sat back against the headboard. Harry pursed his lips at her.
"So tell me more about your visit with Brogan," he finally said, taking hold of her hand. "You've never mentioned if he likes your hair or not."
Ginny felt startled and then a bit stunned. "You know what? When I appear to Brogan in the dream or wherever it is, my hair isn't short! Why do you think that is?"
"What? How do you know?"
Ginny thought back through the experience and realized that, yes, her hair was the old length. "I can just tell. How odd."
"Maybe it's because that's how he remembers you or…no, that doesn't make sense."
Ginny got up and grabbed the Waystone book from the bedside table, and flicked through it. She glanced up at Harry and read the section she'd found.
"While using the Waystone to connect through the dream world, appearances maybe be deceiving. Our brains will project the image that we wish to see – for ourselves and for others."
"So…does that mean you're projecting the longer hair, or is he?" Harry mused.
"I don't know. Reckon next time, I'll try to imagine it as it is now and see what I end up with."
"Do you want to try now?" Harry asked, sounding as though he was eager to see Brogan again.
"You can do it this time," Ginny said, smiling at him. "Tell him it'll be soon. I've been trying to develop a way for him to tell time where he's at, but honestly, the book doesn't help with that part of it, and I think it is more a symptom of him being in the Well."
Harry reread the part in the book with the spell, and he did it alone this time. They got ready for bed, and Harry curled around her, sighing as she doused the lights with her wand.
"Everything is heightened when you go," she warned. "I think it's because I did it by myself, so just be aware, Harry."
"Right. Feeling extra sensitive to things while being around Brogan. Wonder what that will feel like."
Ginny snorted and turned over, kissing him. "Tell him I said hello."
"Anything else?"
"He knows the rest, I hope. But if he appears to be sad again, tell him anything you need to to make him feel better, all right?"
"Of course." Harry yawned. "Goodnight, Gin. Love you."
They cuddled and nuzzled for a bit, and then she could feel Harry fall asleep fairly quickly, his breathing evening out. Sleep came slower for her, but for once, Ginny didn't dream of thunderstorms.
o-o-o-o-o
The cult of Tuireann, or the Lightning Seekers, as they liked to be called, usually met on Thursday nights, and tonight was no exception. Michael prepared the tea, set out the biscuits, and got his quills and parchment ready to take notes.
He'd worked at The Broken Quill since he was a lad, and now since he was approaching the wise age of 50, he was proud to say he had the whole routine down pat. In fact, the entire setup practically ran itself. Still, that didn't mean one should be lax – he always oversaw everything, right down to the charming of the self-writing quills. He didn't want to be blamed for shoddy charm work by Sean, after all.
At the thought of Sean, Michael frowned to himself. Their leader had been most reclusive as of late, which was unlike him. Ever since that young couple had come into the shop the week before last. Sean had called the young man Harry Potter! Michael didn't think that was right, but what did he know? Maybe it was Harry Potter – stranger things had happened, had they not?
Michael cast the spell that showed their symbol – the 8-spoked wheel with the lighting bolt and aimed it towards the wall, where it would shine long past their meeting and into the night. He was proud of his illumination spells; he always had been.
"Michael," a rough voice startled him, and he almost dropped the Perpetually Filling pot of tea he'd been floating over to the table. He turned and squinted, just making out Sean's hidden form in the shadows of the room.
"Merlin's ghost, you gave me a fright, Sean," Michael said, forcing a laugh.
"Sorry," the man said, moving into the light. Michael thought he looked like his usual self, but there was a weariness to the other man's shoulders tonight. Michael had often thought that Sean somehow always appeared to carry decades of melancholy on his shoulders for a young person. He had often heard Sean referred to as an old soul, and tonight that sense was noticeable, almost touchable.
"I have some new information I'd like us to focus on tonight," Sean said, pulling a blue folder out of his rucksack. Micheal tried to keep his face neutral, but internally he was groaning. He loved Sean, he truly did, but the man would often throw them new things to research at the drop of a hat, and sometimes, the topics did not make any sense at all.
Mostly, the Lightning Seekers were a group that liked the more arcane and diverse fields of magical study while adhering to strict beliefs about the old ones. Especially Tuireann, the Irish God of Thunder himself. They prided themselves on following the old ways and being scholars to keep the words and deeds of their chosen Gods still relevant. They believed that magic was a gift given to certain people by the Gods – to continue their work on earth while the Gods stayed on the more ethereal, non-corporeal planes of existence.
They did not have a big following in Maeve's Hollow, but it was big enough, and they usually had a healthy turnout at their meetings.
The Lightning Seekers did not believe in blood purity – all magical folk had been touched regardless of whether they were Muggleborn or not. Their group had not seen any reason to get involved in the English troubles, after all. None of that Toujours Pur stuff, for them, Michael was glad to say. Instead, if you were magical, you had been chosen for a higher purpose, and you must use your gifts to help maintain the old ones.
Of course, the fact that most of their cult had never met an "old one" nor would they know what to do if they had, meant they basically read a lot. And they flashed Tuireann's symbol at meetings. They would also get together with other sects throughout Ireland at certain times of the year and have a "good time." Although they hadn't had a good old-fashioned orgy in a while, Michael was sad to say. It had been close to fifteen years since he'd had that pleasure.
But Sean…Sean was different. Not only did he genuinely believe in Tuireann, but he lived his life by the words put down by the great Danu herself. And so, he would often give them research projects that could become quite…involved. For instance, he had made a small group of them go after the Fountain of Youth (the real one, not the one Muggles believed in, which was really just a potion). He'd sent three of their members to a wizarding village in Tibet for a year. They hadn't found it, of course, but they'd all come back with lotus flower tattoos over their hearts and the ability to speak Mandarin, oddly enough.
The problem was that when Sean Aloysius O'Brien got a bee in his proverbial bonnet, he did not let it go. And that meant that for however long this desire for "new information" lasted, Michael's nights were about to get a lot more active. And not in a good way.
He accepted the folder, hoping the other man wouldn't sense the not-quite-sincere quality of it, and flipped it open.
"The Ouroboros?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Whatever he'd been expecting, that hadn't been it.
"Aye, well, mostly I want us to find what happened to the bracelets. Page two," Sean said, frowning. His eyes seemed to burn with an intensity that Michael had not seen in a while.
Michael looked at the paper, frowning. "The actual Ophidian Armilla? I thought they were a myth. Not to be seen in any of our lifetimes. Sent to the four corners by Patrick himself."
"Oh, they exist," Sean said, voice eerily calm. "Not many people know this, but Tuireann himself was involved in their history. I want to know who has them now and why. But it won't be a long search, Michael, have no fear. I've already seen one, and it was right here in Maeve's Hollow."
The look on Sean's face was oddly cold and calculating, and Michael felt his nerves suddenly kick in. He had a sinking feeling about the name that Sean was about to tell him.
"You mean…no. Really? But he's so young."
"Aye. Harry Potter himself was wearing one. And we need to find out who the other two of his triumvirate are and which one is the master. I want those bracelets, Michael. They belong to me."
o-o-o-o-o
