CHAPTER TWELVE
THE MODIFIED MEMORY OF BETHANIE BLEET

"Thanks for meeting with me, Miss Bleet," Harry smiled, offering her his hand.

She shook it nervously, then sat down opposite him. She looked around the large office, absorbing the pine frames and red and gold borders.

"You're welcome, Mr Potter," she said timidly.

She wore make up to accentuate her best features, her round face highlighted with thick, alluring eyelashes and full, red lipstick. Her blond hair was tied up in a bun.

"Just Harry, please."

Harry placed two small china cups between them.

"Coffee? Tea?" he offered.

"Um… coffee, please. Black."

Harry nodded and waved his wand. Nothing happened.

Mortified, Harry cleared his throat and waved his wand again. Thankfully, the cup filled on the second attempt.

Harry sat down, eager not to linger on his embarrassment, though Bethanie Bleet seemed either to not notice or not care.

"So," Harry pressed on, "You've come to see me over the reward for information on Mara Greaves?"

"That's right… and I want assurances."

"Assurances?" Harry asked.

"I'm not giving you this information and going home empty handed."

"Well, the reward is subject to the information leading to the capture of Mara Greaves."

Bethanie flinched.

"No," she said, not meeting Harry's eye, "I'm risking a lot coming here. I either get compensated or I go home now."

Harry considered Bethanie for a moment. He had noticed her nerves immediately upon meeting her but didn't think much of it; some people were just like that. However, now he was focusing on her, he had a strong sense of fear. What did she know?

"Alright, relax, Miss Bleet," Harry said, "I give you my word that as long as you provide useful information, I will reward you today."

"Right," she said, looking relieved, but still not meeting Harry's eye.

"So," Harry said, getting a quill ready to make notes on some parchment strewn across his desk, "How do you know Mara Greaves?"

"Went to Hogwarts together," Bethanie replied, "We weren't exactly best friends or anything, but we were fond of one another."

"And what do you believe you know that will help us?" Harry asked.

Bethanie hesitated.

"To tell you the truth, I'm not the best at telling stories. I think it's best if I just show you. I can give you my memory," Bethanie replied.

Harry had not expected this response. He did have a pensieve, but they were very rare. It confused him why Bethanie would choose this method.

"Er - well, I suppose that would be acceptable," Harry replied, "but I have to ask. Why?"

"This all happened a while ago… I'm not sure how long exactly, a few months maybe. But it took a while for me to get all the memories back. I think it will just be best to show you what I remember, rather than try to explain it."

"What happened to your memories?" Harry asked curiously.

"Well, you'll see when you - Mara Greaves tried to put a memory charm on me, only I managed to protect myself with a shield charm. I forgot what happened, but the memories started coming back to me."

Harry raised his brow.

"That's some quick thinking - and very smart," Harry acknowledged.

"My father worked in law enforcement. New York. He's American."

"Well, it looks like he taught you well," Harry nodded, "Very well, I'll take the memories and I will give you half of the reward money now. Once I confirm the contents of the memory, I'll give you the other half. Is that fair?"

Bethanie considered him for a moment, and then nodded. She placed the tip of her wand on her temple. A moment later, she pulled it away, bringing a silvery string with her. The silver string broke away from her head and floated at the end of the wand until she placed it in a small, clear vial. Bethanie stoppered the vial and placed it on the desk. Harry took it and placed it in his top drawer.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?" Harry asked.

"The memory will tell you everything I know, but…"

"Yes?" Harry asked.

Bethanie looked up and met his eyes.

"She really, really hates you."

The gravity of her gaze creeped Harry out.

Harry nodded, "I figured as much."

Bethanie shook her head, "No, I mean… really. Well, you'll see… Can I go now?"

"Yes, of course," Harry nodded, "Thank you for coming in. Speak to John Dawlish on your way out and he will arrange your reward."

As Harry said this, he signed a paper plane and with a wave of his wand, sent it out of the office door and flying towards Dawlish's desk, explaining what Harry wanted from him.

Bethanie nodded and stood up.

"Thank you," she mumbled, and shuffled out of the office.

Well, that was interesting, Harry thought.

He opened the drawer and saw the blue-white memory swirling in the vial. He had a pensieve at home and lunch was in half an hour anyway. Deciding he didn't want to wait, Harry swiped the vial and put it in his mokeskin pouch. On his way out of the office, he told his secretary Marcus that he was taking an early lunch and wouldn't be back for two hours.

Ten minutes later, Harry stepped over the threshold of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Ginny popped her head out from the living room into the hallway, seeing Harry. She smiled.

"What are you doing home?" she asked, pleasantly surprised.

"I have to use the pensieve," Harry explained, "And I thought I may as well take advantage and have lunch from home."

"Lily's doing algebra," Ginny nodded her head towards the living room, "Come into the kitchen, I have pasta on."

Harry followed Ginny into the kitchen through the opposite door to the living room.

"Did you get your article done?" Harry asked.

"Yes, actually," Ginny replied, "If you ever want to keep Lily busy for an hour, give her some algebra. She loves it."

"Good to know," Harry grinned.

"So, you wanted to use the pensieve?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah, someone came forward about Mara Greaves. She wouldn't say much, but she gave me her memories," Harry said.

"That's odd," Ginny noted.

"Well, she had some sort of confrontation with Mara, and she tried to use a memory charm. That's all I really know. She seemed scared to be there, and wanted the reward up front."

"What did you say?" Ginny asked, serving Harry a plate of pasta, covered in a cheesy sauce with shredded bacon and basil.

"I gave her half. Said she could have the other half after I've seen the memories."

Harry ate in silence for a few minutes. When he and Ginny had first moved into Grimmauld Place together, they both had tried being the regular cook but neither of them were particularly good at it. After James came along, Ginny finally gave in and asked her mother to teach her how to cook. These days, Ginny almost matched Molly. And having a second-rate Molly Weasley cooking for you was still pretty bloody good.

After lunch, Harry headed up to his bedroom. He entered and waved his wand towards the ornate and complexly structured wardrobe that took up one side of the wall. The drawer underneath the large mirror opened up, revealing the stone basin of the pensieve, marked with ancient runes.

After the War, Harry had looked for pensieves, but they weren't something you could find in your local Diagon Alley. There was one at Hogwarts, that didn't belong to anyone but was bound to Hogwarts. Harry searched all around Britain for any merchants selling pensieves but he had found nothing.

Then he discovered, through Kingsley Shacklebolt, the existence of the Magical Antiques Trading Club. Harry signed up for the monthly newsletter, with the latest sales from other people around Britain.

He was only ever looking for a pensieve, but he saw all sorts of bizarre antiques for sale. Intensely ornate fittings and furniture; invisibility cloaks; ancient apparatus and recipes, rare ingredients and even the occasional magical creature.

It was after three years of reading these monthly newsletters that Harry finally found a pensieve for sale. The seller, he was surprised to see, was Sybill Trelawney. Harry had not seen her since the Battle of Hogwarts, but he contacted her, met with her and got a very good deal on the pensieve. Harry didn't ask the details, but for whatever reason, Trelawney needed a quick sale and so he bought it for five hundred galleons.

While he could not use the pensieve as deeply as Dumbledore could, and while he didn't completely understand the runes and enchantments even after all these years, he was able to at least view memories, and on rare occasions such as this, he was able to watch other people's memories.

Only once before in his time as Head Auror had he needed to do that. He had caught a career criminal who was involved with some deep underground death eater remnants post-war. While he refused to physically speak anything, he did give up his thoughts after being offered a plea deal. Those memories had rounded up six former Death Eaters.

Harry pulled out the metal dish from the pensieve and placed it in the air next to the bed, where it hovered. He poured the contents of the vial in his hand into the pensieve. The blue swirled into the silvery goo and an image began to form. A steaming teapot. Harry positioned himself comfortably on his bed, and dunked his head into the dish.

Reality ripped apart and new surroundings enveloped Harry. A small, cutesy kitchen with inoffensive tones of peach and lavender bordered with floral wallpaper. It took Harry a moment to notice Bethanie Bleet standing in front of him. It was early morning and she wore baggy pyjamas that she needed to pull up every now and then. She hadn't brushed her hair or put on any make up yet, so she looked quite different to what he remembered in the office. Nevertheless, make up or not, she was quite pretty. She had a rounded face that gave her an air of kindness and inclusivity, though Harry really knew nothing about the girl.

As she took a few sips of her coffee she had just brewed, Bethanie was startled (and so, Harry admitted to himself, was he) at a sudden and abrupt knock on the door.

Bethanie frowned and Harry followed her as she went to the door. She stopped herself when she arrived near the hallway and looked down at herself. Sighing, she pulled out her wand and waved it around herself a few times. Almost instantly, she was transformed. She was now wearing jeans and a yellow blouse, her hair tied neatly into a bun and a basic make up job applied.

Apparently satisfied with her quick work, Bethanie walked forward and pulled open her front door.

The figure at the door was hooded, and while Harry couldn't get a good look from his angle, Bethanie certainly could and she gasped.

"Mara? Mara Greaves?"

"Hi, Bethanie."

"What - are you alright?"

"Sorry to just show up like this but it's really important. May I come in?" Mara asked, her details still hidden under the hood. Her voice sounded slightly hoarse but her tone was sweet enough.

"Y-yes, of course… my gosh, Mara, are you alright?"

Bethanie stepped out of the way and allowed Mara to enter the house. Mara moved in past Bethanie, through Harry and into the living room, where she pulled down her hood, looking around nervously.

"Thank you so much," Mara called over to Bethanie as she closed the front door.

Harry stared at the girl, who was looking straight through him. Her dishevelled dark hair came down to her shoulders and she, like Bethanie, also had a rounded face. But her most distinguishable feature was of course her eyes. Not only because of the almost-constantly furrowed brows, but because of something Harry saw inside those eyes. He couldn't quite place it at first but then it came to him: sadness. Mara Greaves looked so sad.

Bethanie had noticed it too.

"Sit down, Mara. I'll make you a brew. You poor girl…" Bethanie headed into the kitchen. As she did so, Harry felt himself being pulled in that direction, so that Mara was no longer in view.

Of course, this is Bethanie's memory. I can't see what she didn't see.

No words were exchanged between Bethanie and Mara as Bethanie waved her wand to pour another cup of coffee.

Moments later, Bethanie brought Mara's cup back into the living room and Harry was relieved to find he could watch Mara again.

Bethanie sat down on the armchair opposite Mara, who was sitting on the sofa. The furniture was all peach, and Harry figured it was probably Bethanie's favourite colour.

"How are you?" Bethanie asked, after a moment of awkward silence.

"I'm alright, all things considered," Mara replied, looking away and sipping her coffee.

"Well, you've come here at seven in the morning and I haven't seen you since we left school, Mara -"

"Do you want me to go?" Mara asked, "I mean, I understand -"

"No, no," Bethanie said, "I don't want you to go… but no-one has seen you in ages. You've been up to something, clearly. So if you've come here for help or advice or whatever, I'm going to need to know what's been going on, aren't I?"

Mara didn't reply immediately.

"It's a lot," Mara replied, "and … and I haven't told anyone yet."

"You can trust me," Bethanie said.

Harry believed her, despite the proof of her untrustworthiness literally surrounding him at that moment.

"I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch with you… or anyone," Mara said, "but I had some things I had to take care of."

"That's alright, Mara," Bethanie assured her, "but you have been gone for over three years. Where have you been?"

"Brazil. Mostly," Mara replied vaguely.

"Brazil?" Bethanie repeated, confused, "What on Earth were you doing in Brazil?"

"Like I said, it's a long story…" Mara said, then sighed, "I told you what happened to my brother, when I was little."

"Yes, I remember," Bethanie bowed her head, "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Well, I'm kind of still going through it…" Mara muttered.

They were around the same age, but Bethanie gazed at Mara with such empathy and care in her eyes, it almost looked like a mother consoling her daughter.

"Is that why you went to Brazil? For a fresh start? Do you have family there?"

Mara gave a little smile.

"Something like that," she replied, vaguely.

"What about Callen? You and he were always close at school. I heard he went travelling, now I'm thinking he went with you?"

"You're clever, Bethanie," Mara smiled.

There was another silence. Bethanie inhaled to speak, but Mara, not looking at her, started speaking again.

"My brother, before he died… he went to Brazil. He found some old family history there. Found some rare magic. I knew where he kept it because I was there when he found it. So after he died… I went back to Brazil and got it back."

"Rare magic?" Bethanie asked.

"It's complicated… but I had to go back. I had to do what my brother never got the chance to. It helped, you know…"

"I understand," Bethanie replied.

"Do you?" Mara asked; there was a hint of an accusation in her voice, though Harry wasn't sure if that was his own bias hearing things.

"In a way," Bethanie replied softly, having not noticed anything, "My mother died after we left Hogwarts."

"Oh - I'm sorry to hear that," Mara replied.

"Well, she had this ridiculous hobby of collecting Quidditch programmes. I hate Quidditch. But when she died, she was two programmes short of completing her collection of Appleby Arrows match programmes from the season she was born to the season she died. So I spent eight months tracking down those programmes. It was awfully tedious work, but I'm so glad I did it," Bethanie explained.

"That's a lovely story, Bethanie," Mara said, "I knew you'd see true connections like family… and friendship… are what matter. That's part of the reason I came to you."

Bethanie smiled, "That's nice but… why did you come to me? What is it you need?"

Mara hesitated, then shifted in her seat.

"The old magic… my ancestral magic. I did what my brother couldn't and mastered it. Now, I'm going to bring him justice, and I need your help."

"Justice?" Bethanie frowned.

Harry noticed Bethanie shift uncomfortably. Mara continued:

"My brother deserves justice for what happened to him. He was killed by Aurors."

Bethanie absorbed this. Harry couldn't hear what she was thinking but he would have bet every galleon in his vault that red flags were going up in Bethanie's brain right about now.

"But - how? How can you get justice?" Bethanie asked, though Harry suspected she knew the answer.

"I'm going to destroy Harry Potter."

Mara's face was uniquely contorted, like she was trying to match the confidence her words demanded.

"Destroy -" Bethanie started, then stopped and stood up, whipping out her wand.

"I don't know what you think I am capable of, or what crimes you thought I would jump in on, but I am not getting involved with this," Bethanie said, flatly.

Her hand was shaking. Mara stood up, holding her arms up in submission.

"I'm not asking you to do anything criminal, Bethanie," Mara said, "All I'm asking for is you to be my friend. I can't do this alone."

"Nothing criminal? You want me to join you in a quest to kill Harry Potter of all people."

"I never said anything about killing him," Mara pointed out.

Bethanie faltered.

"You said -"

"I said I want to destroy Harry Potter. Not kill him. I'm going to curse him," Mara explained.

"And that's better?" Bethanie asked rhetorically.

"He killed my brother using magic. I'm going to take away his magic. I think that's a fair trade," Mara replied.

Bethanie gulped.

"Y-You can't do that. Impossible…"

"For most people… but like I said, I discovered my own magic. My heritage," Mara said, "Listen, Bethanie… I'm not here to scare you or threaten you… if Harry Potter loses his magic, he can't do what he did to my brother to anyone else. And if anyone else abuses magic, they can be dealt with too. I'm trying to help people, not hurt them."

"And how do you suppose you're going to get Harry Potter, one of the most protected people in Britain?" Bethanie asked.

"I have a plan," Mara said, "I'm going to curse him and then I'm going to lure him away from all of his friends. All of his family. Everyone who ever made him great will be gone. And if he does manage to bring any of them along, I'll curse them too. Everyone will see how Harry Potter is just as common as the rest of us."

"He defeated Lord Voldemort -"

"On a technicality! He's not special!" The words burst out of Mara suddenly, and she looked suddenly unhinged with frustration, "He was a kid who was in the right place at the right time and everyone treated him like a God, even after he killed my brother!"

Bethanie raised the wand a little higher to let Mara know she was not letting her guard down.

"Vigilante justice is not the way, Mara," Bethanie stood firm, and tightened her grip on her wand.

Mara frowned, "Typical Gryffindor. Brave to a fault, even when you don't need to be. I'm not your enemy. You said I could trust you."

"You can," Bethanie replied, "If you leave now, I'll pretend you never came here. I won't help you, but I won't report you either. I just want to be left alone and kept out of trouble."

"If only I could believe that," Mara spat.

Any pretence of friendliness had faded now that she couldn't get what she wanted. Mara slashed her wand swiftly. Harry saw Bethanie flick her wand with a jerk. The white flash of the memory charm from Mara's wand blasted Bethanie back into her chair.

Mara moved in close, kneeling over Bethanie. Bethanie was glassy-eyed, out of focus.

"I thought you would understand… I thought we were friends…"

Mara looked on the verge of tears. She sniffed loudly and lifted her hood over her head. The memory details were fading and becoming fuzzy. Sound started to plateau into muffled noises. Sighing, Mara Greaves walked to the front door and left the house, slamming it behind her.

The slam acted as a dismissal of the memory and Harry felt himself lurched away. He pulled back and found himself back on his bed.

Harry sat there for a while, thinking about what he had just learned. Bethanie was right, Mara really did hate him. But finally, Harry was in the driving seat. Finally, he had an advantage for the first time in this investigation. And now, it was just a waiting game.