Hey folks, another update for you. I know the author alert isn't working as well as it should be (grr) but just keep your eyes open for updates, and hopefully the good folks in charge will sort it out, or I'll just email them and tell them. Either way, I hope you like this next bit. Istalindar
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Constantine finished the last of her packing, slipping travel information into her purse and dropping the bag on the bed next to her suitcase before crossing to the window and staring out across downtown Manchester. Ginny's flat was in the poshest area of Manchester there was, though the view was still a slightly muggy cityscape.
"Hey." Constantine turned to see Ginny leaning against the doorjamb, surveying the suitcase and purse. "You ready to go?" Constantine nodded.
"Yeah. I've got everything together and sorted out the finance stuff which they were threatening to not send through."
"You browbeated them into it?" Ginny asked with a wry smile. "On occasion, my dear, your subtlety leaves something to be desired."
"Who wants subtlety? Gin, you can be as subtle as you want with bankers, but unless you crack them over the head with your paperwork they will be as evasive as cockroaches in a photocopier."
"What a delightful image." Ginny wrinkled her nose and Constantine smiled.
"I try." Ginny smiled, and held out a folded piece of parchement.
"This is from the Malfoys." She said. "Read it if you like."
"Amadeo?" Constantine asked with a smile, taking the letter.
"And Draco." Ginny added, and watched as Constantine's smile vanished. "Constantine-"
"It's fine." Constantine said quickly, tucking the letter into her bag. "Thanks Gin. For everything, I mean it."
"What else are friends for?" Ginny shrugged, perching on the edge of the bed. "Do you have everything?" Constantine nodded. "Okay, have a good trip. Please be careful." Constantine nodded.
"I will. You too." Ginny sobered a little bit and Constantine narrowed her eyes. "Has Harry said something?"
"He wants to get the marriage date arranged." Ginny said. "I haven't told him yet that I'm not marrying him." Constantine nodded in understanding.
"Well, when you get round to it, if you need somewhere out of the way to go, I'm out in Kenya for the next three months. Join me." Ginny nodded.
"I might just do that. It'd probably be useful to have a hidey hole far away from England." Constantine winced.
"You think it's going to be problematic?" Constantine asked, and Ginny nodded.
"Probably. Anyway." She shook off her problems with a smile. "You need to go or you'll miss the opening. Have a wonderful time darling, and look after yourself."
"You too, hun." Constantine grabbed her bags in one hand and her wand in the other, and after a swift second she vanished with a pop, leaving Ginny alone in her flat.
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Constantine appeared in a plain white room in the airport in Nairobi, and was immediately descended on by two robed guards.
"Documents, please." One said, his english heavy and gutteral. Constantine obligingly handed them over and waited patiently while they were checked over. Then the guard handed them back. "Thank you. Just join the flow of passengers. Are you being met?"
"I am." Constantine answered. The guard nodded.
"Then good day, ma'am." She smiled.
"And to you." She pocketed her wand and the documents and headed out of the door, joining the flow of Muggle passengers making their way to customs and past that, to the door. Customs was no problem, and Constantine made it to the door fairly quickly, getting lost in the vast airport only once. Once she got outside she was blasted by the heat and she took a deep breath.
"Constantine!" She looked along the line of taxis and saw Thomas Peterson, her head of operations here in Kenya, and beside him his best friend and companion Ngugi, the native born Kenyan that helped them negotiate past any cultural differences. He was also a dab hand at driving jeeps across the uneven ground of the African plain to the secluded villages that Constantine's Projects involved.
"Tom! Ngugi!" Constantine smiled and walked towards them quickly, dropping her bags and hugging them tightly one after the other. "How have you been?"
"Good." Tom laughed, picking her up and swinging her around. "The extra funding we received last week was a life saver." Constantine frowned.
"But I didn't send any last week." She said, confused. Ngugi frowned.
"Seriously?" The Kenyan asked. "But it was a significant sum. We finished off the hospital using it and started buying in medicines." Constantine shook her head.
"That's strange. Was there any sort of documentation with it?" Tom nodded.
"All the usual. It's back at the lodge. We figured we could stay there tonight, so you can have a bed and a shower, and head out in the morning. It's too late to go out tonight anyway, unless we fancy a fair amount of lion encounters." Constantine shook her head.
"No, thanks. And a shower would be amazing, thanks." Tom nodded, picking up Constantine's bags.
"Well, let's go then." He flashed her a brilliant smile, and she followed him over to the beat-up tank-like jeep. He chucked her bags in the back and she climbed into the back seat, Ngugi and Tom taking the seats at the front. And then they were off.
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After her shower, Constantine settled herself on the couch, dressed in sweats with her damp hair braided back out of her face. Beside her was a giant cup of hot chocolate, the documentation for the recent surprise funding and the letter Ginny had brought her from the Malfoys. Constantine decided on the chocolate first, sipping the hot liquid and letting it slide down her throat.
Tom was a genius at making hot chocolate.
The lodge was an ex-hunters lodge, about forty miles outside of Nairobi, a speck of civilisation in a vast empty plain. Made of brick and logs, it was extrememly solid and had withstood years of monsoons, baking heat, elephant rages and everything else that the Kenyan earth could throw at the house. It had been broken down and abandoned when Constantine had bought it, making it the base for her operations near the city. Now it was warm and pleasant and homey, compliments of hours of work put into it. That was how Constantine had originally met Tom and Ngugi, she had employed them both to help her renovate the house and teach her something about the Kenyan culture, both men having been born in Kenya, and they had worked so well together that the two men had worked with her ever since.
Constantine dragged her attention back to the stack of papers beside her, the folded letter from the Malfoys sitting on top of all the other papers. She picked it up with a sigh, looking at the Malfoy seal on the back and picking reluctantly at the wax with her fingernails. Then she took a deep breath, bit the bullet, and slit the letter open.
Dear Constantine
I've missed you. Ginny reluctantly tells me you're doing fine, though I think she'd rather not talk to us about you at all. She probably feels it would be a betrayal of your trust, but I couldn't go for months not knowing how you were. How have you been? Daniel Masters is back to his usual social habits, raising money for your cause in Africa. I suspect you'll be heading out there soon, so please write me a letter when you do, so I can know you're safe.
I miss you, and Daniel sends his love.
Amadeo.
It was short and concise, as was Amadeo's style. Constantine suddenly missed him very much, and she sat back into the sofa, the letter discarded on her lap. She had left without any word to either Malfoy, and while she didn't particularly want to hear from Draco, Amadeo deserved more. Yes, he hid from her the fact that Daniel was in fact Draco, but Draco probably made him. Amadeo was, after all, Draco's cousin. And it hadn't actually physically hurt her, Amadeo was just helping Draco keep an eye on her, like she needed one kept.
Anyway, Amadeo, at least, she would talk to. But first she needed to sort out the other financial stuff, especially if someone was randomly donating a large amount of money. She picked up the papers and shuffled through him, well-practised at sorting through pages of legal and financial crap to find the right bit. And then she swore.
'Donated by Gringotts Bank on behalf of Mr D. Masters.'
If he thought he could buy his way into her good graces he was sorely mistaken. She glared at the offending piece of paper before shoving it off her lap and rising, crossing to the giant window. It was a beautiful night outside, clear and starry. She could hear the crickets and bugs even through the glass, and far away across the plain she thought she could see something large moving slowly. Could be an elephant, could be a trick of the light. Then she saw Tom's reflection and turned.
"I knocked." He offered. "Glad to be back?" She nodded with a smile.
"It's so beautiful out here." She sighed, turning back to the window. "Like nothing really matters." Tom chuckled.
"Different things matter out here." He shrugged, stepping up next to her at the window. "Time isn't as important here, but water is. Pollution isn't a problem but there's a real danger of being eaten by a lion if you don't get home before dark."
"Yes but that's different." Constantine replied. "That stuff actually matters. Clothes and cars and bills…that doesn't matter. That's all just what we made of the world." Tom smiled.
"You've learnt a lot since you first came here." Tom said approvingly. Constantine looked up at him.
"I always kind of thought that, but I never wanted to say it."
"Horror of admitting the truth?" Tom asked with a smile. Constantine shrugged, looking back at the window at Tom's reflection. He was a very handsome man, though not in the same way as Draco. Draco's good looks were born from aristocratic features, his paleness and carriage. Tom's handsomeness came from the fact he was tanned, weather-worn and hadn't shaved in at least two days. He was easy to talk to and not in the least bit up himself or self-important. He was as comfortable inocculating cattle in a village in the middle of the grasslands as he was wearing a black suit and tie and chatting finance with possible Project sponsors. He took everything in his stride, but when it was things that mattered, like protecting his friends and family, confronting someone who was withdrawing their sponsorship or fighting enemy tribes, he was fierce and unforgiving..
"What are you thinking?" he asked. She shrugged again.
"Just glad to be back, is all."
"It was a bit of a surprise trip, though. You arranged it like a week in advance."
"I missed the Project." She replied evasively. He put a hand on her shoulder.
"Something went wrong in England?" He asked. She shook her head.
"I had a fight with someone. It seemed easier to just give us both some space."
"Daniel Masters?" Tom asked. Constantine jerked away.
"What?" He held out his hands imploringly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stick my foot in it. But it's in the gossip pages, even here."
"You read those?" Constantine asked incredulously, anxious to bring the topic off her.
"Sometimes. To see what you're up to. We don't hear a lot from you when you're in England. There was a lot of speculation in the gossip pages about you two. And then suddenly you weren't together anymore." Constantine shook her head but didn't answer. "Did he hurt you?" Constantine looked at him sharply: he had that tone of voice he sometimes got when someone near to him was threatened.
"No, he didn't." Constantine lied. "I just couldn't trust him enough. So it eventually had to end."
"You only tell us so much unless you trust us, don't you." Tom said.
"I trust you, Tom. There's no need to start thinking that."
"You've got a lot of deep secrets, Constantine. And I respect that, everyone has things they can't address or talk about. But yours are bigger than most, I think."
"Tom-"
"That's all I'm going to say about it, Constantine." Tom said with a shrug. "Just…some people you can actually trust, you know. Whatever it is, we know you, despite your secrets, and we wouldn't give you away." Constantine smiled a little sadly.
"Thank you." She didn't continue, and Tom shifted a little uncomfortably.
"Who's the funding from?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Masters." Constantine replied, then fell silent. Tom let out a breath.
"Oh."
"It's not like that, Tom." She replied. "We just decided we were better as friends. And his funding has come in useful, like you say."
"Yeah, it did." Tom paused. "Ngugi wanted to know if you wanted to come have coffee." Constantine laughed.
"It took you that long to ask?" she asked. Tom shrugged.
"Well, we got to talking. How about it?"
"Sure." Constantine smiled and followed Tom out of the room towards the living area where Ngugi was waiting.
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The next day they headed out to their main sponsored village about 80 miles from the house, a hundred and twenty miles from Nairobi. It was jointly run by a witch and a wizard, Gathoni and Kiguunda, and was a safe place for all the children and teenagers who had either run away or been kicked out, abandoned or stigmatized by their villages for their magic. It was something Constantine didn't really understand: most villages had shamans and wise men or women, and yet when real magic appeared, the people feared it and tried to beat it down.
Still, Gathoni and Kiguunda took everyone and anyone in as long as they respected the rules of the village and helped with the work. In return the refugees received somewhere to live and food. Unlike muggle Africa, famine and drought were not so widespread due to the aid of magic. However, Africa had long ago become the playground of the wealthy in magical culture, so while the government tried to rule fairly and well, it had to play homage to the very old, rich families that near enough controlled most of the magical side to the country.
However, times were still tough, women still had to walk miles for water, and the sun still dried everything out and caused rot, despite the best anti-decomposition spells. Magic, as always, was no match for mother nature. It wasn't something Constantine really regretted though, as she walked with the women to get water each day. It was an opportunity to chat, with the help of translation spells, and she learnt a lot from them. Their magic was very earth-bound, more concerned with keeping the flow of the earth in line than transfiguring teapots into turtles. Still, as useless as those particular exercises were in real life, they were good for teaching control and precision, and Constantine spent the majority of each day teaching the children various exercises to help their wand-waving (those that had wands, an amazing number of children had the ability of using wandless magic, something Constantine greatly envied.)
It was a happy, simpler life that she was appreciating now: no whirlwind of parties and brunches, just an early rise each morning, helping the children with their lessons then the long walk to the water hole, back in time for the evening meal that the teenagers cooked each night. Then in the evening everyone sat around the fire, the children showing off their newest abilities and the adults talking about future plans, discussing the children or recounting anecdotes.
It would have been perfect except that Constantine suspected that Tom had developed a crush on her, and suddenly it made her uncomfortable. She was used to being desired by men, but she could ignore them. However, since Tom was a friend and a close comrade in their work here, that wasn't an option. This went on for two months, and then Ginny arrived, and suddenly the pressure on Constantine was lifted.
Ginny was a breath of fresh air to the village. She was practical and brimming with energy, always willing to try anything and she never complained. The children adored her, and the women nodded approvingly at everything she did, whereas the men felt at ease with her. She was perfect.
"Constantine?" Constantine looked up from the bank papers that had arrived this morning. Amadeo had made his customary donation, as had Daniel–Draco whose contribution was also becoming regular. Constantine had given up on it, simply accepting it and moving on. Nothing she could say would change it, anyway.
"Hey, Gin. Sit down." Ginny settled herself easily on the floormat beside Constantine. Africa suited the youngest Weasley, her skin was tanned slightly golden despite large quantities of sun-blocking spells, and she seemed more athletic, and happier. "How are you?" Ginny nodded enthusiastically but didn't reply.
"How's the bank work coming on?" She asked, gesturing to the papers in Constantine's hands. She shrugged.
"Amadeo and Daniel have made their contribution for the month." Constantine said. "And Amadeo sent a letter. He says to say hello, by the way." Ginny grinned.
"Hello back."
"He also says Harry's looking for you." Ginny's grin disappeared.
"He can't find me here, can he?" She asked, sounding worried. Constantine shook her head.
"It's unplottable." She replied, "To protect the children more than anything. But it makes it a good hidey-hole."
"Better than my flat." Ginny said bitterly. Constantine frowned, Ginny hadn't said anything about her sudden arrival in Africa, she had merely appeared one night at the airport and Constantine had apparated to meet her.
"Ginny, what happened?" Constantine asked gently. Ginny met her gaze.
"I told him and he flipped out. Seriously, Constantine, he went psycho. I apparated to my flat in Manchester and he followed me. He trashed the place, threatened me, and said he'd be back in the morning and we'd get married privately. I grabbed a bag and apparated here."
"I'm so sorry, Ginny." Constantine said softly. Ginny shook her head.
"It's okay. You know, I don't think Harry's a bad person." She began. Constantine raised an eyebrow. "Despite everything, he's still Harry." Ginny looked calculatingly at Constantine. "You loved him once." Constantine sighed and shook her head, and Ginny continued. "He's paranoid, obsessive, controlling…I'm not saying he isn't. Thing is, Constantine, they're the results of his childhood."
"He wasn't like that as a child!" Constantine pointed out. Ginny looked at her pensively.
"Wasn't he?" Ginny asked. Constantine thought back, remembering their time at Hogwarts. He had been a bit paranoid, like his way of blaming Malfoy for any possible evil. He had always been so sure that Draco was behind everything. In terms of obsession, well, Harry and Quidditch had driven Hermione insane for seven years. As for controlling…he did always have to play the hero, and he had been quite bossy when he was Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, on a par with Wood, many had said. Now there was an obsessive controlling Quidditch Captain.
Wood hadn't tried to kill her though.
"Harry's position of power, i.e. being the Minister, has just exemplified everything, Constantine." Ginny explained. "And the idea of Granger rising and destroying him scares him. He counted on her, Constantine. And then he was told she would destroy him, destroy the wizarding world. What was he meant to think?"
"Well, he could use his brain for a mere moment and realise it was bull." Constantine snorted. Ginny raised her eyebrows.
"Maybe you don't realise it yet, Constantine, and Granger probably doesn't either. But by hunting her like he has, he's given her every reason to rise and destroy him. And knowing Harry, he's worked that out for himself."
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