Chapter Eight
A Woman's Intuition
1
Around the same time Harry was entering the Not-Quite-Right store, Ginny was nearly ready to leave the house for the day. Hogwarts would be the first stop to attend a parent/student meeting with the Headmistress about Kyla. After that it was off to London for lunch with the owner of the Hollyhead Harpies. Both meetings could take up the whole day.
She looked herself over in the full length mirror that was attached to the back of her bedroom door with an adhesive charm. Being a somewhat public figure for her Quidditch team, Ginny closely appraised the outfit she had chosen. The white blouse beneath a fitted yellow sweater complemented the nice shape of her upper body, but she was concerned that the knee length beige skirt would not do much to flatter her rather robust hips. Once again, she bitterly thanked her mother for that particular problem area of her body. Harry said they were 'voluptuous', but Ginny didn't think he knew the correct definition of the word.
She gave up and put on her heavy black robes and calf-cut boots to fight the cold outside. Everything now done, Ginny still had ten minutes before she needed to be at Hogwarts. She sat down on the living room couch and noticed Harry's file of notes on the Blood Traitors. Leaning forward to snatch it off of the coffee table, she flipped the yellow cover open and examined the contents. The first few pages of parchment were written in a feminine hand – obviously Agape's, since she did most of the note-taking – but the last three pages were all in Harry's untidy scribble.
There were entire leafs on specific people; like Alton Drake, for one. She read over the report on his interview, seeing side notes that Harry must have written later on in a different colored ink. Almost all were questions. Things like: Why were A.D., F.T., and L.B. at the café right before the Optimates attack? and Could a Muggle be involved? just below that. At the very bottom of the page evaluating Drake's interview was a note with an arrow pointing to the name Melencolia Snook. Who is she?
Apparently the woman had interrupted the interview and taken Drake away to be seen by a medi-wizard. Her name, as well at Thorpe's and Bireley's, were underlined. Ginny flipped through the next few leafs, copies of Drake's and Thorpe's records. She remembered that Remus had refused to give up Bireley's file, which Harry had complained about for days afterward. There were some handwritten blurbs about a Vampire, Luciano, and Culver, who Harry had researched the day before, and then one last page of nothing but questions and small charts that connected them all. Some where familiar: Were the men with a Muggle woman? and Who is Melencolia Snook?
Ginny sighed to see so many unanswered queries in the case. No wonder Harry was getting frustrated.
She closed the yellow cover back over the loose pages of parchment and tossed it onto the coffee table. It hit the polished surface with a little too much force and some of the parchment fluttered off of the table top. She bent to pick them up and did her best to put them back in order so that Harry wouldn't have to later. His files were the only thing he'd learned to keep orderly and she didn't want to break him of the habit. When she was sliding the sheet full of questions back into the slot in the file cover, it bunched and refused to be inserted. She discovered the object blocking the way was a piece of stationary so short that she hadn't noticed it behind the flap before. She pulled it out with two fingers and found it was a note Agape had written when she still had the file within reach.
The words were scribbled down in a hurry and were a bit garbled, being in short hand.
M.S.
Wfe of invstigtr.
1 of th mst protected homes in UK. MOM hid prson thre once. Refuse to list addrss, or b srched. Smthng hddn inside. Case nvr pursued b/c of A.S.
Ginny knew that MOM stood for the Ministry of Magic, and she wondered if M.S. was short for Melencolia Snook. If it was, had Harry even seen this paper? And who or what was A.S.?
The clock in the hall metallically proclaimed ten o'clock, so Ginny needed to be on her way. If she was late to the meeting at Hogwarts, it might carry over into her already tight lunch appointment with the owner of the Hollyhead Harpies.
2
Finally Harry had been able to corner one of the Blood Traitors. Recently it had been impossible, as his frequent futile visits to Garry Moore's office demonstrated, to catch any of the suspects' at a workplace. Maybe Augustus Schmitt could duck out of work for a few days to treat his "rather persistent pneumonia," as Moore (Schmitt's boss) had said; but it was a different matter for Logan Bireley. The few werewolves that could find a job had to work almost constantly to make enough money to live off of.
Logan Bireley's brunet hair was just as messy today as it had been when they first talked in Remus's waiting room, and he looked just as tired. A purpling bruise distinguished itself vividly on his square, unshaven jaw – a souvenir from last night's fight. Only a week ago, he had been very friendly and inquisitive about Harry, but now he merely observed the Auror with a calm, unfeeling gaze. Now he was caught and being faced with standing alone against the legendary Harry Potter.
"So, should I expect high-kicks to the chest from you as well," asked Harry, "maybe a suped-up stunning spell? Or perhaps you're more of a cut-throat, like your vampire friend."
"I should hope not," Bireley answered quietly.
"Good. Then, I'll just stick to asking questions."
Pausing for a moment to organize his thoughts, Harry looked around the basement that looked in dire need of an anti-molding charm. It really was a perfect place for an interrogation, he thought.
"You've been a werewolf for five years, Mr. Bireley?" asked Harry at last.
"Yes," Logan answered dispassionately.
Harry nodded. "I received your file today, and it mentioned you used to attend meetings for werewolves. Some sort of support group?"
"I thought you already had a file with my name on it when I first spoke to you," Logan commented.
Harry held back what he wanted to say about Logan never mentioning that he was the man Harry had been looking for. Instead he said, "That file was purely legal. Apparently, you received a warning never to go without taking your wolfsbane potion again unless you had the proper precautions. But you've changed the subject."
Logan exhaled a short breath. "Yes. I used to go to a support group for werewolves when I lived alone."
"Did they help?"
"Sure," Logan replied flatly.
"I'm guessing you made some friends there. Maybe a young girl with dark hair?" Harry said, referring to the girl he'd seen Logan with when they first talked.
Logan's face was void of expression but he said, "Are you really here to ask me questions about werewolf meetings?"
"I have no problem getting down to the nitty-gritty, if you'd like."
"By all means."
"Alright," Harry said, slowly pulling his wand from his robes and pointing it at the square jawed fellow. "Logan Bireley, I'm hear to arrest you if you don't tell me where Agape is right now."
Bireley's composure left him a bit as his eyes widened and his brow furrowed with unease. He couldn't have expected anything less from an Auror, but the threat was obviously disconcerting nevertheless.
"I'm guessing adding time in Azkaban to a werewolf's resume wouldn't look very good to the boss," Harry added.
3
Ginny entered Headmistress McGonagall's office and found everyone else had already arrived.
"Ah, Mrs. Potter," said McGonagall as Ginny sat down next to Kyla, "let me introduce you to everyone so that we can get started. This is Mrs. Angie Hathaway and her daughter, Helen."
A hefty woman, whose hips made Ginny's look trim and girlish, sat beside a not-so-pretty, but very spoiled looking little girl. She had a grip on her daughter's shoulders as if she feared the child was in danger of floating up to the ceiling at any moment. Neither of them made any acknowledgement that Ginny was in the room other than a quick scowl before turning toward McGonagall again.
The Headmistress went on with the introductions, "I believe you already know Trevor Vaughn – "
Trevor smiled shyly at Ginny before swiftly breaking eye contact.
" – and this is his guardian, Mrs. Melencolia Snook."
Ginny couldn't believe the name when she heard it. Hadn't she just read the same name in Harry's report on Alton Drake's interview? She stared at the woman, and tried to return her polite – if not warm – smile and nod.
But just as her mind filled with questions, McGonagall was calling their attentions to the matter at hand: What to do about the persistent feud going on between the children. However, Mrs. Hathaway soon opened her mouth, and it became about no body but her precious daughter and herself. For a while it was only McGonagall arguing with Mrs. Hathaway, trying to make her see sense. Ginny didn't see how it would help - the woman was a twit. Even Kyla got bored and started looking around at the portraits in the room.
In all this time, Ginny's mind drifted back to Mrs. Snook. She had a short opportunity to look the woman over more thoroughly while she wasn't paying attention. She was very old, as ancient as McGonagall probably, only even skinnier. Her expensive, dark purple robes were traditional but by no means unfashionable. She had an air of importance that didn't come off as snobbery, but as her greeting had demonstrated earlier, she certainly wasn't very warm.
Snook watched McGonagall's and Hathaway's spat with detachment as she sat beside trepid little Trevor, and Ginny found herself recalling the Headmistress's introduction.
'Trevor Vaughn, and his guardian, Mrs. Melencolia Snook.'
Guardian? Ginny knew that Trevor's parents had died, but she thought the Ministry had placed him with some relatives, not a guardian.
Another thought bothering her was this woman's connection with Alton Drake. Unless she just happened to be related to the man, the only other reason for her to rescue him from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was that she had connections with the Blood Traitors, just like Harry suspected.
Agape's scribbled note came to mind again:
M.S.
Wfe of invstigtr.
1 of th mst protected homes in UK. MOM hid prson thre once. Refuse to list addrss, or b srched. Smthng hddn inside. Case nvr pursued b/c of A.S.
Ginny knew that she would have to talk to McGonagall as soon as this ridiculous meeting was over, but currently she had to start paying attention again.
The meeting went on for a while longer and was finally resolved in concluding that all three children would have one detention a week until they worked out their differences, or at least until they learned to ignore each other. Mrs. Hathaway didn't find this fair at all, but no one - not even her own daughter - seemed to care what she thought anymore.
The dumpy woman took her brat and stormed from the office, while Mrs. Snook said good bye to the Headmistress then walked out with Trevor. Ginny went just outside of the office door talk to her little girl.
"Kyla, I hope you understand everything the Headmistress said in there," Ginny said to her daughter. "I'm tired of getting letters saying that you got three detentions in one week. Especially ones that include the name Hathaway."
Kyla opened her mouth to protest again, but Ginny held up a hand to silence her.
"I know the little snot deserves it," she admitted, "but that doesn't mean you have to stoop to her level of stupidity. I know you're smarter than her, so act like it. No more of this, okay?"
Kyla sighed, weary of adult disapproval, and she replied with no little exasperation: "Okay, Mum."
"Good." Then Ginny started shooing the girl toward the moving staircase. "Now go on to lunch or where ever it is you're supposed to be right now."
"Lay off the affection will you, Mum," Kyla said sarcastically. "Sheesh."
Ginny instantly put on a dramatic mothering face complete with a silly pouting lip. She seized her daughter in a massive hug that her own mother had often given to her and her six brothers just before they left for Hogwarts. "Awwww! Kylakins, you know I wuv you!"
Kyla couldn't help but giggle at her mother's change in demeanor. Ginny let her go and grinned at her, saying, "I really do need you to go, though. I have to talk to Professor McGonagall about something for your dad."
"Will you tell me later?" Kyla asked, her curiosity peeked.
"If it works, I might."
She put a hand on top of Kyla's head and turned her back toward the staircase, but just as Kyla was going down with the steps, Ginny thought of something and called after her. "Kyla! Do you know if Trevor lives with Mrs. Snook?"
The stairs stopped curling down and reversed when Kyla turned back. "Yeah, he does."
"Do you know why?"
Kyla seemed to hesitate, as if not sure she should reveal how much knowledge she had. Eventually, she did respond, apparently figuring there was no reason for her mother not to know. "His last family was 'unsuitable.' They claimed to be related to his parents, but they were lying, so the Ministry let the Snooks take him."
Ginny paused in thought, a concerned look now firmly in place of the previously jovial expression.
"Mum?"
"Thanks, dear. I was just curious," the red head said quickly. "You can go. I'll see you at Kings Cross for Christmas holiday."
They went in opposite directions, and Ginny knocked on the Headmistress's door. McGonagall let her in again and she placed herself in front of the old woman's desk.
"How can I help you, Ginny?"
"I need to ask you something," Ginny told her. "How well do you know Mrs. Snook?"
McGonagall shifted to a more comfortable position in her chair and eyed Ginny with some suspicion. "Quite well, actually. Why do you ask?"
"I wondered if you knew anything about her relationship with the Ministry," Ginny said.
"So Harry can't even come speak to me himself?" said the old woman wryly. "He sent you to ask me more questions?"
"Harry didn't send me anywhere. But did he ask you about Snook yesterday?"
"No."
"Then I'm afraid he's missed something."
McGonagall's thinning brows rose with interest. "I'll help you however I can."
Ginny proceeded to inquire about everything McGonagall knew about the Snooks. When asked how she was acquainted the couple, the Headmistress responded:
"I knew them in school, actually. They're good people. I even vouched for them when they wanted to take care of Trevor Vaughn."
"Do you know why they wanted to take Trevor?" Ginny said.
"They felt they could protect him from the family he had been with, and raise him properly."
Ginny couldn't imagine having to 'properly' raise a boy as meek and taciturn as Trevor. He just hadn't had it in him to be a problem child from the start. Anyway, it was the word 'protect' that stood out to her.
"Didn't someone in the Ministry suspect his last family of being Death Eater supporters?" Ginny recalled.
"Yes," McGonagall answered, "and the Snooks have always disapproved of those kinds of people. In fact, that's why the Ministry took an interest in them, to answer your question before. Many years back, they needed a place to hide a man who had given away the locations of nearly thirty underground Death Eaters after Voldemort's first defeat. The Snooks are known for their acute paranoia, so their highly protected house was the ideal place to hide him at the time. But since then, they haven't opened their home up to the Ministry again."
"Why's that?" Ginny asked.
"Well, during that time, they sympathized with the Ministry," McGonagall explained. "Even then, the Snooks held them at arms length. They've always had problems with figures of authority, and they made it clear to the Ministry that it was a one-time deal."
"Has the Ministry ever tried to search their house?" Ginny inquired, thinking of Agape's note again.
This seemed to affirm some inkling that McGonagall had been pondering about Ginny's questions. "Not very long ago, yes," she said. "It's not known why they wanted a look inside, but I suspect it's because they're curious about any place locked down as tightly as their own facilities. They wonder what the Snooks are hiding on that big forest reserve."
"Do you think they're hiding something, Professor?"
The old woman looked amused, as if at some fond memory. "I'm sure they are, but I doubt whether it would really concern the Ministry."
"Oh, I think you're wrong there," Ginny told her, the excitement of possibility gripping her suddenly. "Professor, I'm pretty sure that the Snooks haven't given the Ministry their exact address, but I'm guessing that the Headmistress of Hogwarts, a personal friend of Mrs. Snook, would have it."
"No, Ginny," McGonagall said firmly. "I'm bound by law not to disclose the address, and I certainly can't have you trekking around that forest."
"I'm not interested in going there yet," Ginny assured her. "I just want to write a letter. You don't even have to give me the address - you can send it yourself."
4
"What more can I say," Bireley nearly shouted, as he watched Harry's wand inch ever closer to his face. "I told you I can't give you the location."
The werewolf had literally backed himself into one of the corners of the basement. He stood amongst a pile of boxes that Harry had shoved over – acting volatile and pushing things around was just one of the ways a law enforcer kept their target on their toes, and it was a constructive release for pent up frustrations toward an infuriating case. Like this one for instance.
One thing was for sure: Bireley was definitely on his toes now. Even if he had kept face pretty well so far, it was apparent that he had no idea what Harry's wand might do the next time the Auror opened his mouth.
"You know, Bireley," Harry growled as he nearly touched his wand to the man's nose, "my patience is as thin as the membrane between your sinuses and your brain. Become useful or we'll test the limits of both."
"You've got to be kidding me," Logan said, a little desperation creeping into his voice.
"You want to find out?"
"No... I don't. I could try to take you to Agape."
Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "You can take me there?"
Logan started to nod, but stopped when the tip of his nose hit Harry's wand. "Yes," he said instead. "Just let me get in contact with them-"
"No," Harry snarled. "No getting in contact with anybody. Take me straight there. Now."
Logan bit his lip and hesitated until Harry motivated him with a spark from his wand. The werewolf flinched and finally relented. "Alright! I'll take you."
They used the only fireplace, which was in the owner's office, but it didn't matter since everyone in the building seemed to have fled with Logan's elderly coworker from before, so no one saw them.
Within minutes Harry was standing in a poorly lit room with modest furnishings. Someone's living room? Since there wasn't anyone inside, he cautiously moved around the couch and into the foyer just beyond the door frame, with Logan quietly following a few steps behind. The house was completely still, showing no signs of human life anywhere.
Peering around, he saw that a small bedroom and a minuscule kitchen were the only other rooms branching out from the foyer other than the living room and probably a bathroom. Harry didn't see any stair case, and he figured there wasn't one hidden anywhere, so if she were here he should be able to see her.
He turned a narrowed eye on Logan standing just within the living room and asked, "Where is she, Bireley?"
Logan's countenance showed only grim uneasiness as he moved closer to Harry to look into the other rooms. He said nothing, and Harry had a feeling he was holding his breath again.
"Well?" said the Auror, his patience wearing thin enough to see through.
Still Logan said nothing, but he swallowed hard as if preparing himself for a high-dive twenty feet up. Then he slowly reached his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket. Harry instinctively reached for his wand as well.
5
Not far away in a warmly lit room, a figure was slouched over a desk in peaceful slumber. The woman's head was resting amidst her folded arms and her bone-straight blond hair had draped around her face as she slept. Who knows how long she had been at the desk, working on an endless task that had finally won her over with pure exhaustion.
A young man silently entered the plain looking room and saw her there. He crossed the small office and walked around her desk to stand just behind her, putting his hands lightly on her shoulders.
The woman's eyes – a warm shade of brown – flew open in momentary surprise, but she relaxed when he bent down to gently kiss the back of her head. "You've got to stop pulling all-nighters, Jules," he said, as she straightened in her chair.
Glancing at her watch told her that her husband would want to have a few words with her when she got home. But she didn't have the energy to care about him. She was too tired for that. Instead, she aimed to wake herself up a bit by standing and stretching. When that didn't work, she simply gave in again and sat on her desk top, now facing the young man.
"All-nighters are a good thing, Ferris," she told him. "They mean progress."
"Was there progress this time," he inquired.
She smirked a little. "Oh, yes. But I'm going to let the Ministry handle their mistakes on their own."
Ferris Thorpe's blue-green eyes registered how impressed he was as he asked, "So you figured out who the leak was?"
"I did. He was the one that messed up that Auror woman's mission the other day."
"You mean Tonk's mission to arrest the Neos who blew up the Walnut Café?"
"The very same," Jules replied, nodding once. "I sent Tonks an anonymous tip for her to find this morning."
"Who was the leak?"
"Some git named Crocker."
He grinned proudly at her. Somehow he knew that he could never know how much she went through just to figure this bit of information out. Even though she hated the Ministry, she still did the right thing by telling them. Of course, it was also likely that she didn't feel she had the energy to catch the bugger herself, and that was why she would let them deal with it.
"If only you had worked this hard in school, Jules," he teased, moving closer to her and placing his hands on her knees as she perched in her desk.
"It wouldn't have helped anything," she told him.
Now that he was closer to her face, he noticed her eyes. "Jules," he said, "You're eyes are still brown."
"I forgot to take the charm off last night," she explained flatly. Then she took out her wand and pointed it at her face, her eyes crossing a little as she concentrated on it. A short flash later, her irises had changed back to their natural (and far too noticeable) clear blue color.
The charm on her hair seemed to being wearing off as they spoke. Ferris could see waves beginning to form in the straight locks. In about an hour her curls would firmly reassert themselves until tamed again.
Ferris kissed her briefly, and then wrapped his arms around her. She leaned against him, letting him support her tired body, and mind, for just a moment. The sun that was rising outside the only window in the room, enveloped them in light. The beams washed out his already dull blond hair, but it made hers glow almost white. They stayed there, undisturbed in the sunlight, until:
"Jules, Ferris," said a woman's voice from the door, which Ferris had left open.
They looked around to see a pudgy woman wearing Muggle brand name clothes and too much eye makeup peering in at them with urgency apparent all over her face.
"Sorry, but Logan just called me. Apparently Potter is giving him a hard time," she said.
"Potter is at the Not-Quite-Right store?" Ferris asked.
"No, he and Logan are in the safe house."
"What!" Jules and Ferris cried in chorus. Jules ripped open a drawer in her desk and snatched her mobile phone from inside. Four missed calls. Flipping it open she found that three were from Alton and one was from Logan. She cursed her stupid idea to put her phone away while she worked. She should have at least taken it off of vibrate.
"Celeste, what about Alton?" Ferris asked the plump young woman, his brow furrowed. "Isn't he there?"
"No. Agape isn't there either," the woman said hurriedly, "That's why Potter is so mad."
Jules swore vehemently. "Are we all loosing our minds?" she fumed. "Why would he take Potter there without trying to call someone first?"
"Maybe he did," Ferris opted as he headed for the hall. "My, mobile has been in my room all morning. And who knows where Roman and Gus are."
"Yeah, and I just got to the office a few minutes ago," Celeste added. "I already missed two calls from Alton. But both of them must have been in a hurry, because they didn't leave any messages."
Jules swore again and rushed out after Ferris, Celeste on her heels. Ferris summoned his mobile from his room as they passed it, catching the small thing deftly and pocketing it.
"You don't think the Optimates finally found them, do you," Celeste asked, looking scared.
"No. They could never get inside the forest reserve," Jules told her. "But I'd love to know the reason why Alt would take her out of the safe house." She and Ferris stopped at the nearest fireplace and Jules whirled on Celeste.
"Call everyone. Make sure to get Roman and Gus. We'll need all the help we can find to handle Potter. "
Ferris was sucked up the fireplace with a whirl and Jules quickly followed as Celeste sprinted down the hall to the basement which was the Blood Traitors' office.
6
Two people sat in the Potions section of the magical half of Schuler Memorial Library. This part of the building was located behind the Muggle front via a magical doorway in a broom closet. Sir Schuler, a Muggle, had been married to a witch and she had designed the library to accommodate both worlds in his honor. Of course the Muggle's had no idea. The set up allowed folks both Magical and Nonmagical to read or research in peace.
However, the two people aforementioned, a man and a woman, were not reading the books they had snatched from the shelves before sitting down. They were using Schuler Memorial for a much different purpose: a safe rendezvous to meet a good friend.
"Maybe she had a hard time finding Hubby," said a ridiculously red haired man with a dragon hide mask secured over his mouth and nose.
"She'll be here," Agape told him. "Let's just wait a little longer."
"She's probably gathering the entire Ministry of Magic to back her up," he said as he propped up his chin on loosely curled knuckles. "Maybe when they arrest me, I can punch that Moore bloke in the conk this time."
"Alton, I told you I won't let them arrest you," Agape assured him. "A deal is a deal."
"Yeah, I'm just thinking that they won't see it that way. So if she does bring anyone with her, I'm going to have to leave."
Agape smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, Alton," she said. "I know you're risking a lot to do this for me."
He grinned beneath his mask. "Don't worry. Jules won't kill me. She'll just skin me and use me for one of her stylish new handbags."
"I meant you're risking being discovered by the Optimates," Agape said, rolling her eyes at his comment.
"Them? They're nothing compared to the wrath of Julissa Culver. She had this whole thing planned to a tee, and now I've messed it all up."
"Did you really leave them a note on the door?"
"Well I couldn't very well tell them when no one is answering their mobile, could I?"
"I suppose you could have told Mel at her house," Agape suggested.
Alton cocked one of his thin eyebrows. "Didn't think of that."