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Tattoos

"How many have you seen?" she asked, not at all thrown by this unusual question.

"Two, the moon one and the paw print. Did they hurt?"

"Well, they did, but not as much as my others."

Ron was staring in unflattering disbelief. "How many did you get? And what did Charlie get and where?"

Cat smiled at Ron, who in turn blushed, causing Hermione to glare at Cat, who gave her a very convincing 'who me?' expression. "Charles got a snitch on his shoulder. I've got four. The moon on my left shoulder, the paw print on my right shoulder-blade, a tiger-lily on my right hip and these antlers," she turned round and pulled up the back of her top exposing a detailed tattoo of two antlers just above her trousers, around the base of her spine.

"Why do you always call him Charles?" Ron asked. "He calls you Catherine too and if anyone else did you'd hex them three ways from sideways. I mean, you're not dating. The only time I know of you being more than friends were when we had truth or dare and you and him were stuck in the attic for half-an-hour."

Cat looked even more amused at this comment. Harry wondered if it was possible to grin so much it fell off your face, cause if so she was well on the way. He realised that they were all sitting as though round a camp-fire, sharing stories. He was brought back to reality when Hermione elbowed him gently, Cat was about to respond and it looked interesting.

Her voice dripped with sarcasm so strongly that it felt like you could feel it, dribbled over your shoulders. "Oh Charlie and I were never more than friends. We just liked investing each others tonsils in broom-closets." Her wicked grin was back and Ron looked like he was going to faint. Hermione had him supported on her arm for the moment. "We dated from his fourth year. I thought Bill would have told by now. I didn't realise he was that afraid of me. He was the only one of your brothers who found out, and the only one other than Charlie I've ever snogged, and I threatened to hex him if he ever told. I didn't think he'd have kept it up this long though." She swept her long waterfall of hair behind her, seemingly oblivious to the way it blew slightly in the wind.

"So you see," she explained airily. "It's our little terms of endearment. Though it's not like we're dating anymore. He went of to play with dragons and I worked on my NEWTs and quit my Chaser position on the Quidditch team." Her tone was wistful and her smile forced. "Quidditch just wasn't the same without him. Though," she shook her head and grinned at Harry, the twinkle in her eyes familiar, yet distant. "You could certainly give him a run for his money. You are better than him, but it just wouldn't be the same.

"Back to the important things. All the horcruxes are destroyed. We can – no – we will kill Moldiesnort. And we will get started right now."

Harry was curious about what she had planned, but a feeling of warmth was spreading up his abdomen. Voldemort could die. He could kill him. Everything could be over. Soon.

"So," Harry enquired, with one of the first smiles he'd had since Bill's wedding. "What have we got to do?"

Three hours later they appeared in an alley way. Cat smiled. She'd lead them all there, with Side-along-apparration. She must be pretty powerful to have side-alonged three people at once.

She transfigured their clothes into club clothes, making her particularly skimpy and giving Hermione a skirt that Harry wondered if it was originally a belt. Whatever it was, it made Ron stare and Hermione blush.

"Right guys," Catherine appeared to be mobilising her troops. "What's our cover?"

Hermione seemed to have accepted the skimpiness of her outfit. "Ron and I are a young couple who are going to spend the time near the door." Ron turned crimson at these words, while Cat did glamour charms on him to give him short brown hair and a tan.

"And me and you," Harry continued, while shrinking their clothes and belongings and putting them in his pockets and nodding in Cat's direction. "Are a couple of friends looking for a good time. You find the guy and I go and sit with you. You drop the info and collect some and then we signal the others and go. Sound about right?" His hair, he suddenly realised, was blonde, and Cat appeared to be attacking his scar with what he could only guess was concealer.

Cat's grin was the last thing Harry remembered before being dragged into the club. Large shapes of people blocked his view and all he could hear was the steady thump of the music. He'd only been to a club once before when they went on that police mission with Hermione's muggle aunt. Grateful for the hand pulling the front of his black shirt, he suddenly realised he was at some seats by the bar. Clamouring on one, he heard Cat order them both a drink. She obviously wasn't a newcomer to clubs.

"So," she started, smirking over her drink. "How many clubs have you ever been in?"

What a bizarre question, Harry thought. "One," he answered hesitantly. "When we were in Albania. Hermione's aunt is a muggle police officer and said we could stay with her if we went on one assignment with her. Hermione had sprained her ankle and Ron offered to stay behind and look after her. I went with. She was pretending to be a hooker actually." Harry blushed. That had been an embarrassing evening.

Cat seemed to be contemplating something, until her gaze focussed on the door. Harry didn't even have to turn round to realise what it was. Their man had entered.

Cat slid off the chair like a mermaid off a rock. She tugged Harry to follow and grabbed the three drinks she'd just ordered.

"Hi. I'm Hetty Kirkland. Can we sit here?" At his nod they took seats and she offered him a drink. Her gushing tone startled Harry, but only made the man smile.

"Hello," the man said, eyes taking in every inch of Cat's … exotic appearance as they darted around. His chiselled face looked like something off a tacky romance novel and his deep black hair fell elegantly into his cold brown eyes. There was no warmth in those eyes, Harry felt, as his lips twisted into a charming smile.

"Hang on," Cat exclaimed, her voice falsely cheery, yet something about it told Harry this was something she'd done before. "I swear you went to Hogwarts." Her eyes seemed to be trying to place him, yet it seemed rather fake, if you looked at it closely. Her heavily made up lids widened in startled realisation. "You were a year above me, in Slytherin. I had such a crush on you back then; though I doubt you knew I existed. You dated one of my dorm-mates. Uhhh … Gertie Rikes that was her name. She was heart broken when you broke it off. But, I mean, if you play with matches you're gonna get burned." Her voice had turned seductive, making the guy smirk.

"Gregory Jackson. Such a pleasure to make your acquaintance again. Would you like to dance, that is, of your boyfriend doesn't mind." He took her hand and led her on to the floor, leaving Harry to keep an eye around. He hoped this was over soon. Ron and Hermione seemed to be having an interesting conversation, and Cat was having a slow dance. He sipped his drink and saw Cat coming towards him, looking like the cat who swallowed the cream.

"Got it," She stated, answering his unasked question. He followed her out the door, grabbing the others and dragging them with her.

They stood outside the club, the crescent moon matching the tattoo Cat scratched subconsciously. They knew where to go now. Everyone focussed on the road in London where Harry's property was located. Harry looked up. There was the house that held memories he would give anything to relive. 12 Grimmauld Place. Where they needed to be. And where he never wished to be again.

A/N: Sorry for the shortness of the previous chapters. Thanks to heather1021 and redroseternity for the reviews. I really appreciate them. I'll try and update soon.