A/N - Chapter 3, enjoy!


Previously:

They looked in each other's eyes and laughed, neither willing to leave first. "Stubborn," Harry muttered, and Bella huffed again.

Feeling ridiculous, she tried again. "Bye Harry," and this time, she did turn and step away.

However, Bella looked over her shoulder several times, seeing that Harry was watching her go with a smile on his face. Each time he caught her peeking, she would blush and he would waggle a finger and mouth 'bye, Bella.'

It wasn't until she almost bowled over an old lady because she was walking while looking back that she waved and finally turned and walked out of Leicester Square.

When she got to the corner that she had almost run away from an hour earlier, she looked back one more time - and this time, Harry was gone.

And even as she walked with shaky steps down into the subway, she could not help but feel like a secret door to a new chapter of her life had just been cracked open.


Chapter 3

That night, before an exhausted Harry Potter left the ministry to head home to Grimmauld Place, his thoughts strayed back to the very interesting young woman and enigma named Bella Swan. She was a nice, intelligent girl, who thankfully knew nothing about him or the silly titles that have been thrust upon him. No expectations, no feeling like he was always being appraised.

It was a nice feeling, and made him think he should go out in the muggle world more than he did.

Harry had been pleased to see her reaction to Diagon Alley - it brought back memories of his own first visit to the alley, and he could understand why McGonagall enjoyed escorting muggleborn first years there for the first time. She had definitely been suprised and even a bit awestruck, but had acquitted herself well. Much better than some other first-timers he'd seen.

Yawning - it had been a long day - he composed a quick note and sent it through the floo to his counterpart in the auror department at MacUSA.

'Elliot - how you doing mate? We had a rough day today, the rumours of Durgan using vampires panned out, and one made it out into London before I put him down. Unfortunately, as you will probably hear, he managed to kill one of my aurors, and three others were seriously injured. I'm sure you will hear about it in the coming days.

But that's not why I am writing: something interesting happened which was a bit unusual and I need some information.

I ran into a young woman in muggle London who could see the Leaky Cauldron, and was completely immune to my obliviation during the clean-up. She was an American, and knew absolutely nothing of the magical world.

So - can you do a search for me to see if she is in the registry? Her name is Isabella Marie Swan, d.o.b 9-13-87, and she told me her mother's maiden name is Renee Higgenbotham and her father is Charles Swan. She was born in Forks, Washington.

Let me know what you find. I'll also be checking out the Higgenbotham's here, the family is old and fairly traditional so they have probably had a few squibs leave for the states over the years. Long shot maybe, but who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky. I do know the family has a seat on the Wizengamot, and you know how us 'Brits love our family history.

See if you can have it back to me by Thurs morning, I'm meeting her for a late lunch.

Cheers

Harry'

With that handled, Harry shot off a messenger patronus to Hermione, asking if she would be willing to meet Bella on Thursday with him. When her reply came back immediately - not surprising really, as Hermione worked late more than he did - he apparated with a small pop, headed home for well-deserved rest, his thoughts on the strange but interesting girl he'd met today.

Meanwhile, in New York, Elliot Cavanaugh, Head Auror for the Metropolitan Division of MacUSA, settled back in his chair, thinking about Harry Potter's little request.

On the surface, it seemed simple enough: see if this Isabella Swan was registered as a witch. Elliot owed Potter for his assitance with several cases over the past couple of years, and this was easy enough to accommodate.

A quick message to Records and Administration came back in under an hour, as was usually the case when they had a bit of biographical information. A search revealed that no, this Isabella was not a witch; or, at least, there were no records of her having any bursts of magic in the registry that recorded all accidental magic by minors in the continental US. Hawaii and Alaska had only been added recently as the distances from the mainland presented difficulties, so there was always the tiny chance that she had been missed because she was in one of those locations or overseas during any outbursts; a check with his muggle counterparts to see if she had traveled overeas or to one of those states could help eliminate that possibility. Granted, computer records for overseas travel - easily searched by passport number - really only started being searchable in the past decade or so, but it was worth a shot: Elliot believed in being thorough.

But all of these little details did not really matter to Elliot; no, what made Elliot even remotely interested in this request was the little tidbit Harry threw in - without probably realizing how interesting a can of worms he might have just opened - was that the girl resisted his obliviation.

That certainly got Elliot's attention. If it was true - and Potter was not one to exaggerate - the ability to resist an obliviate... well, that was something that even skilled occlumens had trouble with.

And from a wizard of Harry's caliber? Unheard of. Almost unthinkable, really.

Drumming his fingers on the desk, he decided to find out a little more about this Isabella Swan for himself. She was, after all, an American and if she returned here she would be under his jurisdiction regarding anything magical.

Having made up his mind, he walked to a specially warded room at the end of the hall, opening a set of double doors that were made entirely of iron. Even the narrow, short hallways between the doors was made of iron, and a small table with various notices was the only thing in there.

After opening the first door, he had to wait until it closed completely - and it moved slowly, as it weighed almost a ton,and getting caught in the door when it closed would be very bad for one's health - before he could open the second, equally heavy door. Luckily, the flywheel on the doors, which were similar to what they had on muggle bank vaults, and the expertly crafted hinges with their cantilevers that gave extraordinary leverage, made opening and closing them relatively easy to do, despite the weight of the doors.

This room was special; inside it, muggle electronics were completely shielded from the rest of the building, allowing muggle electronics to work without risk of burning out. No magic use was allowed in here, and protocol stated Elliot was supposed to even leave his wand in the small hallway between the doors to remove any 'temptation' for the building occupants to get forgetful and use their magic.

The room was moderate in size; all the wooden walls were covered in iron, and stretched maybe twenty foot to a side. There were also several desks, a small couch, a large television screen with about a dozen metal folding chairs set in front of it, useful for watching muggle camera footage or televised news and such.

At most of the desks there were a variety of computers, and it was at one of these that Elliot sat. After logging in, he opened-up his email program, and quickly composed a message for his contact at the FBI. There were very few muggle agents who were aware of the Wizarding world, and most of them worked for the FBI with a few more at the CIA.

He composed his request as a level 2 background check on Isabella Swan, born 9-13-87, in the standard forms with encryption, as was needed for any request beyond level 1. It wasn't an exhaustive search like a level 3 or level 4 would be; he didn't think those would be needed- not yet, anyway, he thought - but it should get him the information he needed without the FBI digging into every single iota of Isabella's life and those of her friends and famiy. Level 3 searches were uncommon, and level 4 were very rare, usually reserved for suspects in serious capital offenses; they would involve a veritable army of investigators looking at everything she'd ever done, everwhere she's gone, everyone she'd been friends with, psychological profiling...they were serious undertakings.

Elliot shook his head. He had to have any level 3 and 4 search requests approved by a superior, and would by no means be automatically approved, despite his twenty years on the job. Especially a level 4.

After all, putting someone's life under a microsope and tying up a bunch of agents required sound justification.

Elliot was careful in composing his message; nowhere in it was magic or anything of that nature mentioned, as he'd learned electronic communication could be intercepted. Nevertheless, he worded it well enough that the search by the FBI would be thorough, and maybe it would shed some light on this intriguing ability of hers, or perhaps at least hint at something that might have happened to her during her youth to cause this to manifest.

After all, an ability like that...

All magical governments, everywhere, feared the power of the imperious. When cast by a powerful wizard or witch, it was almost impossible to detect. And, save for the individual being able to 'throw' the curse off, there was no easy way to dispel it. There was no countercurse, save subduing the caster and allowing the spell to wear off. But when the caster was powerful and did the spell with subtlety - such as not making the individual act any differently than they normally would - it was almost impossible to even find the caster, as no one would suspect the victim to be under the curse in the first place!

The number of aurors on his staff that could throw off the curse when cast competently could be measured on one hand. And he doubted any of the political bigwigs could do it, thus leading to one of the biggest fears of magical governments: that their personnel were compromised, and could be reporting on classified iformation or covertly undermining the government in devious ways; or, even more likely, that one of them could be captured, interrogated for secrets under verisatum, and then obliviated of the incident. This latter situation had in fact occurred on several important occasions over the past decade, and once was so bad that a two year investigation into a drug cartel that was using magical means to smuggle in their wares - such as shrunken trunks and obfuscation charms - was completely blown and all the perpetrators escaped cleanly because one of the witches who worked in the auror scheduling office was routinely interrogated by a wizard who was working with the cartel, and then would obliviate her afterwards so she was none the wiser.

It had been a huge blow to his department, and highlighted the vulnerability.

To have a way to be able to withstand that... it would be a truly momentous advantage.

Clicking 'send', Elliot left the warded room, checked the time, and decided to head home. It was almost 6pm, and he was taking his wife to dinner.

Had he known what he was setting in motion, Elliot would have been more careful. He certainly would have classified the request as 'secret: eyes only.'

As it was, he would eventually come to understand what he had started that night with his routine request, and how he had just irrevocably changed the fates of young Isabella Swan and Harry Potter.


On Thursday afternoon, shortly before leaving on a 'sightseeing' excursion (Sophie readily accepted the excuse; after all, it had been true the last few times) Bella's heart was hammering in her chest, her emotions running the gamut from excited to nervous and back.

She was heading back to the wizarding world.

The last few days had been interminable: time seemed to crawl by as she counted down the hours before she could return. In the words of her friend Sophie, Bella had been 'completely out of it' for the last day or so.

After returning to her friend's home after her insane afternoon in the magical world, Sophie knew something was up; Bella was spacing-out, unable to even hold a normal conversation. When pressed, she was evasive, and her excuse of being 'tired' eventually wore Sophie out, though she knew Bella was not telling her something. When Bella begged-off going out that night, claiming a splitting headache, Sophie frowned and debated on calling Bella on her shirty attempt at lying.

Luckily for Bella, Sophie decided to give her friend the benefit of the doubt.

Bella was only a bit better Wednesday, but made a real effort for Sophie's sake; they had a pretty good time spending the day toiling around Oxford, visiting some of Sophie's friends and drinking warm beer, a taste Bella did not enjoy at all.

Sophie wasn't blind; she knew Bella was still distracted by something that happened on Tuesday. Bella would often get a strange look in her eye, squinting at buildings or people that stood out to her as 'strange.' She'd even asked Sophie on several occasions if she could 'see that building there' or 'what do you think about that odd looking house that way'?

To Bella's delight, one of the buildings she made an offhand remark about made Sophie look at her strangely: "Bella, what are you talking about? There is no house there, just a boarded up fence."

Secretly overjoyed at being able to spot another magical building, Bella rubbed her eyes, hoping her abysmal acting skills would fool Sophie. "Oh, I must have gotten something in my eye, sorry."

Sophie looked at her friend fondly, and just shook her head in exasperation. Even though Bella was obviously acting shifty, she trusted her and would not press her for her secrets.

For the rest of the day and night Bella tried harder to be more attentive to her friend; she gave her honest opinion on Sophie's new silver dress and hoop earrings, and that night the pair went to the theater. Sophie was pleased that Bella seemed enthused and mostly back to normal, though she seemed to be distracted every so often, and seemed to be almost bubbling with an undercurrent of excitement.

When Thursday afternoon finally came, Bella was on the train to Leicester with plenty of time to spare. It was a chilly, grey day even for London, the temperatures dipping into the mid 50's. Bella wore a pair of charcoal pants and a blue sweater, and carried an oversized bag that she hoped to fill up with some books if Harry took her to the magical bookstore. Bella's favorite place in the world to relax was in a bookstore, and she was itching to get in there and learn everything she could.

While Bella nibbled on a scone at a cafe across the way from where Harry had fought the vampire, she frequently checked the time. At precisely 2:56, she walked across the street and approached the ratty pub, the name 'The Leaky Cauldron' etched on the old and warped wooden sign that hung from two rusted chains.

As she approached on the sidewalk, she noticed something odd; a few random people would glance at her as they walked by, just as anyone walking by someone else on a busy city street is wont to do: seeing her without really paying her any attention.

But once Bella stood right in front of the door to the Leaky, it was almost like she became invisible to everyone. She could not see a single pair of eyes look at her while she stood there. To test her theory, she even waved her hand at a middle aged man walking by.

Sure enough, he didn't even look twice at her.

She tried it again, waving at more people. And just like the man, nothing.

Bella was excited, even by this little bit of magic. She assumed that this was one of those 'muggle repelling wards' that Harry had mentioned.

With a deep breath, she turned back to the pub and opened the door, stepping inside. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the dim, gas-lamp lit interior with it's heavy wooden floors and scattering of tables and booths. She noted that the pub had more people there today - most of them wearing variations of the robes that seemed ubiquitous in Wizard fashion - and she was aware of many eyes glancing her way when the door shut behind her.

Blushing, she stepped further inside and tried to ignore their stares as she looked for Harry at the tables. As her eyes swept past the curious onlookers, she finally found who she was looking for.

With a great feeling of release, Bella saw Harry at one of the booths about halfway down the wall. He stood, smiling at her and beckoning for her to join him; she walked to him quickly, feeling almost giddy, her mouth curving into a wide smile of her own.

"Hello, Bella," Harry greeted her, smiling and motioning for her to sit.

"Hi Harry," Bella answered, blushing as she sat in the indicated chair and putting her bag down on the bench. She absently noted that several patrons were looking over their way with more interest than they had a moment ago, and she found the look of surprise on their faces a bit disconcerting; Even as Harry sat, Bella thought maybe they were so interested because she wasn't wearing robes, and that might have struck them as unusual.

At least, Bella hoped that was the reason. She really did not like attention.

Taking a good look at Harry, she saw that he was wearing his fancy blue robes again; but he looked far more relaxed than he did two days prior, with no sign of the tiredness or stress he had exhibited after the fight with the vampire.

That was to be expected, of course. No matter how easy he might have made it look, she had no doubt he was fighting for his and everyone else's life.

Now that she was here, Bella tried to keep her vivid excitement from her expression, but she had a feeling she failed when Harry chuckled at her. "You look like I used to, when I first learned about magic. Like my curiosity was going to bubble right out of me."

Bella blushed again, lowering her face for a moment. "Yes, well, it's not every day you find out magic is real." she looked back up at him, grimacing. "It's been a long two days for me."

Harry chuckled again. "I bet. I was the same way, and every summer, when I was back home in the muggle world when school ended, I literally counted the days before I could go back." And for the next ten minutes they spoke a bit about Harry's schooling, and other things about the Wizarding World that were new and exciting for Bella.

Harry was a perfect gentleman, though, and asked politedly about Bella's time in London, why she was there, and how long she'd be staying. But then the conversation turned back to the magical world, as Bella's enthusiasm for discussing her mundane life was very small.

"So," Harry began, "I ran a check with my counterpart over in MacUSA to see if they got any hits on you being a registered witch." Harry said this a bit offhandedly, but could see that Bella's eyes held vital interest.

Swallowing, she managed a quiet response. "And?"

Harry tried to keep his voice reassuring. "Well, there was no record for a witch with your birthdate and name in the registry nor were there any recorded instances of accidental magic - or 'spontaneous magic' as they sometimes call it over there." When Harry saw her forlorn expression, her tried to add something positive. "However, your mother's maiden name, Higgenbotham, is definitely familiar to us. They are an old British wizarding line."

Bella felt crushing disappointment at Harry's news; she'd always thought something was different about her, that she was out of step with most everyone else. Several years ago she was convinced she was supposed to be a vampire - that was why Edward's family felt like that was where she belonged.

That was one of the reasons she'd taken their leaving so poorly.

Over time, however, that dream faded, and she had grudingly accepted that maybe she was just meant for mundane things, and she had become okay with that. After all, she had her school, and her friends, and her parents, and she was young and life was full of possibilities.

But then, two days ago, everything changed. A world of new and exciting possibilities was revealed to her. And, despite not really knowing what it meant yet, she thought being a witch might be what she had been looking for, without knowing it, for her whole life.

Thus, Harry's news was crushing, and it took a few seconds for her to clue back in to what else he was saying. "Wait, what? My mother? She...she's a witch?" Bella couldn't believe it! She knew her mother was a bit wacky, but a witch?

Bella hoped her amazement at her mom keeping that a secret and her jealousy over it wasn't apparent to Harry.

"No, no, that's not what I meant. But her family - your family - well, you are descended from an old pureblood line, the Higgenbothams."

"Wow," Bella said, taking it all in. That meant that, right now, she might have magical relatives that she never knew existed. Her whole life, she had thought it was just her grandparents, her mom, and Charlie. But her grandparents were dead now, and Charlie and Renee were both only children. Bella had never had any cousins or uncles or aunts - it had been a bit lonely, sometimes, never going to visit relatives like so many kids in her school had for Thanksgiving or Christmans or summer vacations.

Harry's voice interrupted her musing. "The Higgenbothams are an ancient, pureblooded family, that, like many old families, often married cousins to keep the lines 'pure.' "

Seeing Bella's expression turning into a frown, he leaned forward, trying to keep his voice down from interested observers who were watching them. "As a result, there were a lot of squibs in their family tree, and one of them - Christopher Higgenbotham - left for the America's in the late 1800's. Of course, once a squib leaves the magical world - and many do, as they are often looked down upon or pitied - we have no record of them anymore. But, if he was your great-grandparent, then you are descended from an old family and probably have enough magic in you to be classified as a squib."

Bella, while fascinated to hear about her possible family history, was still disappointed in Harry's news. However, even as a squib, she would be able to go into the Alley and shop to her hearts content.

It wasn't what she hoped for, but it was better than nothing.

Harry wasn't done yet. "However...I'm not sure if that is all there is to it, as you shouldn't have been able to stop my obliviate. Something else might be at work." He looked away for a moment, lost in thought, before snapping his eyes back to hers. "So with your permission, I'd like to take you to meet a friend of mine, Hermione Granger. She's an Unspeakable - essentially a magical researcher - and she can get a better idea of what may be behind this ability of yours and determine if in fact you are a squib or not."

While Bella pondered Harry's words, he saw her disappointment that she wasn't a witch. And he could understand that, as the brief glimpses she'd seen of Diagon Alley must have shaken up her foundation of what could be possible in the world. She seemed curious and intelligent, and he was pretty sure she would love to spend more time here. And luckily enough, since she could get into the Cauldron unaided, there was nothing stopping her from doing so, though he would have to explain about the currency the shops would use. He knew she would not have any galleons.

Bella finally nodded in agreement, and they chatted for a few more minutes before they stood and walked to the brick entryway to the Alley. Though she was too excited to notice, Harry felt the stares of everyone in the pub on their backs, and he hoped - for her sake - that an article speculating on her identity would not be in the Prophet tomorrow.

He sighed, knowing he would have to broach the subject of his history and fame, and the love/hate relationship the Prophet seemed to have with him.

Shaking his head, Harry took out his wand and approached the brick wall. Bella watched in fascination - she had been to overwhelmed on Tuesday to really pay attention - as Harry tapped his wand and the bricks receded like falling dominos, and they stepped out into the cool afternoon air and began walking down the cobblestone street.

Bella was able to take in much more detail now that she was not gawking at everything. And front and center, sitting sentinel at about the middle of the Alley, was the white marble columned building that the 'goblin' had entered a few days ago.

Seeing where she was looking, Harry took the opportunity to explain about Gringotts and how the goblins essentially had a banking monopoly here, and about currency exchanges and such. "You will need to convert your muggle money to galleons if you want to shop in the alley."

Bella's eyes swung to Harry's. "I can? I mean, I'm allowed?" Her hands fidgeted nervously, holding her bag with white knuckled fingers.

Harry smiled at her. "Yes, of course. Truly, since you can see and make your way inside the Leaky Cauldron, there is nothing stopping you. Tom, the barkeep, can open the bricks for you with his wand, but besides that, you can go in any shop you want." He looked at her for a moment and tilted his head. "I do think you should buy yourself a robe if you plan on coming back regularly; you'll find that a lot of wizards are not trusting of muggles, so you'll probably be stared at a lot less and get friendlier service at most places.

Bella nodded thoughtfully, though inside she was exhilirated at the thought of returning here and exploring.

"But Bella, I have to warn you - you do realize you can never, not ever, speak to anyone about the Wizarding World unless they already know or are magical?"

She nodded soberly. "Yes, I totally understand. And it won't be the first time I have to keep a secret like this." She thought of the pack and the Cullens.

Harry smiled at her, and they continued walking and chatting.

As they talked - mostly Harry answering her questions, though he also asked her some about her studies, or her friends - Bella began to notice that almost everyone they passed seemed to look at her with an appraising eye, and that their expressions ranged from curiosity to unfriendly or disapproving. Some even looked excited, like they'd just been told something of great import.

Eventually, Bella could not just pretend it wasn't happening, and decided to bring it to Harry's attention.

"Harry, everyone is looking at us." She blushed, stepping closer to him and lowering her voice. "Are people that prejudice against me because I'm not wearing robes and am obviously not a witch? Is it something else?" Her voice was a bit unsteady, hating the attention.

To her surprise, Harry looked a bit sheepish, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Err, well, that's something I realized I had to talk with you about, Bella." He took a breath at the confused look on her face, and realized she looked quite adorable with her scrunched up nose and raised eyebrows. "They are not looking at you so much because you are not wearing robes or anything else to do with you, really. Though there is definite prejudice here against 'outsiders' - especially muggles, and by your dress you clearly have muggle roots - most of them would simply ignore you or perhaps sniff at you with their upturned noses if prejudice was the issue."

And then Harry did such a good job of imitating a snob sniffing down their nose at someone, that it made Bella laugh.

"Then why do they do it?" she asked, still quietly giggling at his impersonation.

Harry let out a tired sigh. "Well, I'm sort of famous in wizarding circles, and the paper - and the public, I guess - seem to have a rather keen interest in everything I do."

"Famous for what?" Bella asked, not expecting this.

Harry grimaced. "I was initially famous for suriving something called the killing curse, when I was a baby. Apparently, it was something of a miracle, and the backblast sort-of temporarily killed a really bad wizard."

Bella stopped walking, looking horrified. Someone had fired a curse at him, when he was a baby?

And then the rest of his statement percolated through her mind. "What do you mean, 'sort-of temporarily killed'?"

Harry sighed, stepping closer still, until they were only about a foot apart. "He used dark magic to have a follower resurrect him and build him a new body. And I got famous again for defeating some seven years ago., after he and his followers had taken over the government and killed a lot of people."

Before Bella could respond, Harry continued. "Plus, I'm the last member of a couple of very old and well known houses, the Black's and the Potters, so I'm technically Lord Potter-Black." He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck when Bella arched her eyebrow, willing him to get on with it.

Surely that wouldn't be enough to have everyone looking at her, would it?

Harry looked away, and Bella thought he blushed a bit before he raised his eyes back to hers. "Well, the truth is that some people believe I need to 'settle down' with the 'right sort' and make an heir or two."

At this, Bella's jaw almost dropped open. "Are you serious?"

Not rising to the silly pun about his Godfather, he nodded his head, grimacing. "Yes, unfortunately. So, when they see me with a young, attractive woman who is clearly not part of their admittedly slow-to-change and old-fashioned culture - or, even worse in some of their eyes, the fact that I'm not 'courting' one of their daughters or nieces or whatever - they feel like they are entitled to have an opinion on who I am spending my time with. That's the main reason everyone is looking at you."

He let out a tired breath. "The truth is, except for a very small group of close friends that I've known since I was 11, I am very wary about most people; I've had people try and foist themselves on me, with varying amounts of underlying motivations that are not always pure." He was quiet for a moment, before adding quietly. "It's quiet novel for me to meet someone who is interesting and fun to talk with that has no idea whatsoever who I am or what I have done. Refreshing, really. I enjoy spending time with you."

And then he smiled at her, and his close proximity made his eyes seen to almost shine: an glowing, emerald green.

Bella turned her face away, willing her traitorous cheeks not flame at Harry's words; she took a few breaths, letting the thought of those nosy people keep her calm. She was feeling angry that certain people felt entitled to think they had a say in Harry's private business, and when they started walking again - close enough that the sleeves of their clothes were touching - Bella let him know what she thought of all this. "That's...that's really crazy, Harry. What right do they have to your personal business?"

Harry smiled at her. "Exactly. They have no right, and it's downright infuriating at times." His eyes looked hard for a moment before they relaxed again. "But it happens anyway, and I've just had to learn to ignore it."

Bella nodded, and then addressed something he had said. "Harry? For what it's worth, I enjoy spending time with you, too." When she didn't blush, she was proud of herself, and she saw that Harry's eyes softened as he smiled back at her.

They continued to chat, with Harry showcasing certain stores, and telling her what to expect if she decided to go shopping. She asked him questions mostly about the bookstore, and he chuckled, remarking that she and Hermione would get along just fine.

A few blue robed 'aurors' passed by, most of them older than Harry. He did seem a bit young to be the 'head auror', she realized, and wondered at it. And her mind went back to the fight on Tuesday, and how he was the only one who seemed able to handle the vampire, and how the vampire had knocked those other aurors down so easily.

She'd think about this more later.

"Okay," Harry said, interrupting her ruminations and coming to a stop at small area that had an auror standing by area that was cordoned-off with velvet ropes like you would see in a movie theater. "This is a portkey designated area, and we will be going to the ministry from here. Normally I would take you through the normal entrance near Whitehall, but I want to avoid bringing you through the main entrance, where there will be lots of people too curious for their own good. I've got a special portkey that Hermione enchanted for me, that will take us right to her part of the ministry where no one will bother us."

And then he gave her a grin that she would have called 'mischievous."

"What's a portkey?" she asked, looking curiously at the thin, embossed rope he pulled from his belt. It was darkly woven, perhaps two feet in length, and was well worn.

If anything, Harry's grin widened. "Oh, just one of the ways we wizards get around. Now, you need to hold tight to the rope, and don't let go until I tell you, okay? And when I do, drop your hands and move your feet like you are walking. It will help." He pushed one end into her hands, his rather lame explanation making her anxious, especially when paired with his grin turning into a smirk.

Taking the rope with some trepidation, Bella nodded a bit hesitantly. "Okay, Harry."

Harry winked at her, and spoke in a firm voice. "Hold tight, Bella." And then, loudly, he exclaimed, "Portus!"

Less than a second after Harry had spoken, Bella felt like she was suddenly sucked into the vortex of a spinning tornado, being twirled in the whirlwind like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. The ground disappeared below her feet in a rush of color, and she felt herself being hurled through a roiling darkness with lights flashing all about her; she was dizzy as she spun in the vortex, Harry's grinning face at the other end of the rope the only thing that was in focus as everything else was a roiling blur.

They'd been in the whirlwind for perhaps two seconds when Bella opened her mouth to scream; and even as she belted out his name, "HAAA...," she suddenly saw the ground rushing at her feet and Harry shouting at her to let go.

In the next second, Bella was landing - hard - and she fell right to her bum, the echoes of her scream filling the wide room they landed in. "...RRRYYY!"

Bella sat there bliking stupidly, trying to comprehend what the heck had just happened, and not wanting to vomit. It took her a few moments for her queasiness and dizziness to fade, and the room came into focus.

And, standing up right as rain, offering a hand even as he quietly laughed at her, was a grinning Harry. "I told you to let go," he admonished with that impish grin of his.

"You jerk!" she shouted, slapping his hand away and trying to inconspicuously rub her bruised bum.

That had hurt!

Chuckling again, Harry put his hand out again, waiting patiently until she took it with a huff. "I'm sorry, Bella, I should have warned you better." He seemed contrite, at least.

"Yes, you should have!" she agreed, dusting herself off as she stood with his help. She took a few breaths as she calmed, and then looked a bit sheepish. "To be fair," she added in a quieter tone, "I have for most of my life been extremely clumsy. If there is a way to trip, skid, or fall, I've probably done it. So, no matter what warning you might have given, I'd most likely still have ended on my butt."

She shook her head in disgust. "It's only been the last couple of years that I've gotten better, as a friend of mine got me jogging. It helps, but I still have my moments..."

Harry chuckled at her little admission. "That's okay, we all have our little foibles. And I used to have a lot of trouble with all kinds of magical travel." He chuckled to himself. "Remind me to tell you about the first time I took the floo."

Bella looked at him warily, but nodded. He had explained about the floo, and she honestly had no interest in stepping into a cramped, soot-filled fireplace filled with flames, even if they didn't burn. She'd stick to cars and trains, thank you very much.

The pair started walking, and Bella's eyes swept the large, almost cavernous room they'd landed in. The floor was a dark marble, and the walls must have been a good fifty feet apart. The ceiling was hard to see, as the only light was from dim gas lamps that gave out a diffuse, green glow. The echoes of their footfalls clattering on the marble sounded loudly, and combined with the flickering shadows from the lamps the room had a creepy feel.

"What is this place?" Bella asked, noticing details in the dim lighting; of other doorways - some with impressive looking locks - and small corridors that seemed to branch in different directions.

"Hmm?" Harry asked, his mind elsewhere for a moment. "Oh, this is the entrance for the Department of Mysteries. Hermione has an office in the main part of the ministry, but if we want her to run those tests on you she needed the equipment in her main office, which is down here."

And then Harry did that thing where he rubbed the back of his neck again, and Bella intuited there might have been other reasons to coming in this way, but she held her curiosity at bay and continued to walk.

It wasn't long before they left the big room and walked down a blue carpeted hallway lined with dark wooden doors. There were small plaques on each door, with a gold embossed letter and number on each, but no names or anything else to identify the occupant or purpose.

At the fourth door about midway down the hall, Harry knocked and a muted 'come in" was heard from inside. Smiling encouragingly at Bella, Harry opened the door and gestured for her to enter, which she did so a bit trepidatiously.

The office they entered was surprisingly large, and was much better lit than the hallway was, with small spheres hung on the walls in sconces, each one with a soft glowing light that looked like a miniature sun. A dark wooden desk stood at one end of the room, with a comfortable looking leather chair behind it and two cushioned chairs in front. There were wooden tables lining the walls, and large, weathered tomes with thick paper pages lay open over almost every possible space on the tables.

Bella's eyes took all this in with one sweeping glance before settling on the woman stepping around the desk. She was close to Bella's height, but dressed in a black robe similar to what most of the people she'd seen in the street wearing. But unlike most of the people she'd seen - with their strangely cut and colored clothing - this woman was wearing a modern, red blouse that would look perfectly normal in Bella's closet.

The woman - Hermione, she reminded herself - had a pretty, pale face with a full head of curly hair that gave her a few extra inches of height. She had a small, welcoming smile, but Bella noted that her dark brown eyes held an eager, assessing look in them.

"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. Harry told me you'd be stopping by, you are Bella?" She asked, her accent sounding similar to her friend Sophie's: cultured and sophisticated. Hermione extended a hand in greeting.

"Um, yes," Bella answered, shaking Hermione's hand. Bella was comforted with Harry's presence at her back, as Hermione had a glint in her roving eyes, which made Bella a touch uneasy at whatever 'tests' they wanted to perform.

Harry's voice had humor in it when he suddenly spoke. "Relax Hermione, you look like you are ready to get her on an examination table."

Bella watched with some amusement as Hermione huffed at Harry, but her cheeks tinged a bit, giving some credence to his remark.

"Don't take it personally, Bella," Harry added. "Hermione is curious about everything. It's just part of who she is, and thankfully so, as her knowledge and ability has saved my bum many a time. She's the smartest person I know, and probably the most talented witch of the generation. And she's my best friend. You'll be fine."

Bella glanced at Harry, and saw him looking fondly at Hermione. Clearly these two were very close.

When Bella turned back to Hermione, she saw how her cheeks had pinked again: it was nice to see she was not the only one who blushed! And Hermione seemed to relax at Harry's words, and the 'mad scientist' vibe faded from her face.

"That's okay," Bella finally said, looking again briefly at Harry. "A friend of yours is a friend of mine. I trust you despite your little fun with the portkey." And then she turned back to woman. And it's nice to meet you, Hermione."

Hermione gave her a smile, though Bella saw her raise an eyebrow in Harry's direction, probably regarding her reference to the portkey. Hermione made a gesture for them to get comfortable, and sat in the pair of comfortable chairs in front of the wooden desk.

Over the next five minutes, Harry explained to Hermione about Bella's ability to beat his obliviate, and the results of the MACUSA registry scan for her magical status.

When he finished, Hermione tapped a finger against her lips, her face a thoughtful frown. "Well, that is certainly interesting," she said, smiling at Bella. "The ability to withstand an obliviate is almost unheard of; in fact, I can't think of anyone that could possibly withstand an obliviate from sufficiently strong wizards - and Harry is one of the strongest." She muttered to herself for a few moments, and Harry heard words like 'imperious' a few times, which made him uneasy.

After maybe thirty seconds, she refocused on Bella. "Let's see what a magical scan can tell us about any magic or magical abilities you might have." Hermione rose, motioning for Bella to step with her to a small side table, where Bella saw a small apparatus sitting amongst the opened books.

Bella looked around the room again, and now that she was not focusing on Hermione she noticed that there were other pieces of 'equipment' on some of the other tables, most of them silver or gold colored metal bent in various intricate shapes. The devices didn't seem to be doing much, though one or two of them had small red or blue glowing lights embedded in them, though Bella had no clue as to their purpose.

Stopping in front of the table indicated, Hermione pushed some of the books back so she could pull the apparatus closer to them. It was shaped almost like a candelabra, with two small 'arms' at either end and smaller protrusions on the top piece of metal where the candles would go. Including the arms, there were 7 raised 'cups' where a single gem sat in place of what in a normal house would hold a candle.

Bella eyed the thing with some hesitation, for Hermione waved her wand over it and a dull, somewhat ominous looking orange glow began to form above the twisting and curving metal arm to the far left.

Hermione spoke. "Bella, this is a magic sensor. When I wave my wand over you, it will give me readings on a couple of different things, such as your own magic if you have any. And if we let Harry try his legilimancy on you again, I can measure if what is happening in your mind is a magical ability, or something else."

Bella took a deep breath. "Is there anything I need to do?"

Hermione smiled at her again, but her expression had firmed, all business now. "No. Just hold still. You shouldn't feel anything, save perhaps for a touch of warmth underneath the wand tip." And then she was waving her wand in slow, arcing patterns from her head down to her waist, walking around Bella from front to back.

Bella looked over at Harry, who was standing against the wall a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest. He winked at her, and Bella fought a smile. Just then, however, the glow began to change on the device, drawing everyone's attention.

"Okay," said Hermione, looking at the candelabra, which now had a bluish tone on the left side instead of the orange, and one of the five protrusions now shone a dark blue. "You definitely have some magic in you," she remarked, moving the wand over her neck and chest. "High squib level for sure. Probably able to use a wand, actually, though low enough power levels that any accidental magic you might have caused as a child could easily be overlooked."

Bella's initial reaction was excitement: she had magic! She might be able to use a wand! But then she frowned as she thought of what Hermione had just said about the 'accidental magic.' "What does that mean?"

Hermione was still scanning as she spoke. "Most witches and wizards who do accidental magic as a child will often cause things to happen that can't be explained. For instance, I used to call books down to myself that were on shelves I couldn't reach whenever I was frustrated."

A soft chuckle from Harry had Hermione give him a withering glare.

"But," she continued, "with someone with weaker magic - say, a squib - it's unlikely anything that overt would happen. It would be more likely that any accidental magic would be something small: say, for instance, stopping yourself from burning your mouth if you ate some really hot soup, or maybe general good health, or perhaps avoiding falling on a slippery surface."

Bella chuckled. "Well, that last one definitely never happened to me. I sort of had my own bed at the emergency room, I was a total klutz." But then she frowned. "But I also never got sick. I can't remember even having a cold, and I think my mom was the same."

Hermione smiled, waving the wand around her chest, and then moving it towards her right shoulder. As she did, a second prong lit up on the sensor, a dark, cobalt blue. "Hmm, this is interesting...," Hermione trailed off. She continued to move the wand down Bella's right arm, and a third light lit on the candelabra lit up.

Bella noticed Harry's small smile had turned into a frown, and Hermione's eyes had become sharper. "What is happening?" Bella asked, concerned at their expressions.

Hermione continued to move the wand down her arm, a fourth light now coming on. "I don't know how, but somehow, the sensor is picking up increasing levels of magic in your arm!" Her wand was near her elbow now, moving slowly downward. "The sensor is registering that you have strong magic, but only in your arm! It should not be possible, magic is generally evenly distributed all through a witch's body - that's why we can do things like re-attach lost limbs and heal incredibly quickly with magical potions - but I've never seen...," she trailed off again, as she finally had her wand right over Bella's wrist, and all five of the sensors and both of the small sensor arms were now a bright azure color.

"I...I don't understand," Hermione admitted. And then, without asking her first, she reached down for Bella's right hand and lifted it up, her wand pointed at Bella's wrist.

Too late, Bella realized what was happening, what they would see. But even as she went to pull her arm away, Hermione and Harry both gasped at what they saw on the bottom of Bella's right wrist.

A vampire bite.


A/N - okay, we will now find out what Bella has 'up her sleeve', so to speak, and lay the groundwork for her to gain some valuable skills!