Howdy folks! I give you ...chapter two! It's beginning to look like this will end up being anywhere between eight to ten chapters - originally I was thinking it would become almost double that, until I realized that my vision would not be the best it could the way I had planned it out. Therefore, once Seeking Truth is finished, expect a second, slightly fluffier story that will be called Seeking Hope. Don't worry, I won't even start that one until this is finished (it's about time I actually finish a story I start, eh?). Anyway, enjoy! P.S. reviews are better than a hot date and a bottle of Firewhiskey - humor me? ;D
Chapter Two – Questions and Answers
Liz was surprised to spot a rather bushy haired young woman approach Hermione's flat a little over an hour after she arrived. Thankfully there was a small Muggle cafe directly across the street from the seemingly endless row of apartments, allowing Liz to observe without seeming too overly awkward. She had ordered a large coffee and positioned herself at a table outside, where she could watch the comings and goings surrounding the flat relatively easily. There she had sat serenely for the last hour, sipping her drink and scribbling notes on a particularly complex potion she developed not long before leaving for London. She had just finished the last requirement for her Potions mastery when Hermione's first letter came, giving her little chance to savor the accomplishment at the time. As the youngest American to become a Potions mistress since 1817, there had been quite a lot of media attention surrounding her, but for the most part she'd ignored it. Her focus had been altered to discovering the truth, leaving her little patience to bother with the press.
That, however, did not mean she wasn't working. When her attention was not on Hermione and her various theories, it was focused on her passion and ensuring her shop thrived. Her reputation as an excellent source for popular magical remedies preceded her mastery; her client list had been impressive even before the reporters had emphasized her skill, and only improved after. Once she returned home, she and Alex had plans to open a second shop close to their old school, Atholwood, which he would run. While he was still far from gaining his own mastery, she was pleased to have him as an apprentice and knew he had a decent amount of skill. He learned quickly, did his work well, and was an excellent friend besides.
It was during this reverie that the woman approached the flat, gaining Liz's full attention. She suspected it was Hermione, but couldn't be certain. Tucking her notebook away, she rose to her feet, crossing the street to loom near her door. Raising her hand to knock, she was startled by the lack of wards holding her back. The war may have been over for nearly four years, but surely the woman went through enough over her many misadventures to have the right to be excessively careful. Regardless, she ought to be grateful; at least she could get in contact with the witch.
The woman, fairly pretty despite her wild hair, yanked open the door, her chocolate eyes huge in surprise. Taking in Liz's appearance, her face turned from confusion to excitement as she pulled her inside.
"Liz! I've been looking everywhere for you! Thank Merlin I factored you into my most recent ward adjustment…welcome to London!" Hugging her fiercely, Liz couldn't help but smile. This vibrant young witch was Hermione Granger, no question. She was pleased to see she was just as enthusiastic in real life as she was in her letters.
"Hermione. I'm so glad we finally get to meet." Hermione led her to a sitting room, where a fire crackled merrily in the grate. Puzzled as to why she had lit a fire on such a pleasant spring day, she was interrupted as the flames turned violently green, revealing two male figures. As the pair absentmindedly brushed themselves off, Liz bent down by the fire's edge, watching in awe as it returned to its original state.
"The Floo Network," she muttered, gaze searching out the inevitable pot of powder certain to be close by. Spotting it quickly, she rose to grab a handful, allowing the fine powder to run across her fingers. Turning to Hermione, she asked, "Has anyone ever thought of using this in a potion?"
"I'm not sure…" she replied, nervously looking at her new guests. "Liz, perhaps – "
"It has astounding qualities," Liz continued, attention back on the powder. "Imagine, if combined with the right mixture…perhaps something to improve broom balance, or some sort of anti-Apparation charm to stop splinching or motion sickness…if only I had a lab…"
Hermione cleared her throat. "Liz, this is Ronald Weasley, my fiancé. I believe you've already met Harry – " At Harry's name, Liz spun around, horror struck. Green eyes once again met silver as the two gaped at one another, neither sure what to say or positive who ought to speak first. Eventually, Liz found her voice.
"Hi," she breathed, then shook her head. "I'm the youngest person to gain Potions mastery in over a century, I swear. I am not normally this stupid." Harry let out an anxious laugh, causing Liz to grin sheepishly before continuing. "I'm sorry. About earlier. I had no idea what the hell I was doing."
"It's fine," Harry replied, his voice a strong contrast to hers. "I'm sorry too."
"For what? You've nothing to apologize for – I was the idiot, not you."
"I'm sorry I didn't know," he whispered, looking down at his shoes. Unable to think of a proper response, Liz stood silent. The other man, a redhead whose build reminded her of Alex, stepped forward to interject.
"It's true, then?" he asked, glaring hard at Liz. "You're related? And you've only just come now?"
"Ronald!" Hermione cried with a gasp. "She knew no more than Harry did! And we still don't know for sure if it's even true – that's why I invited Liz here in the first place!"
"He's been through hell – we all have – and she just expects to waltz in now? Look at what we've done…while she sat around in her fancy America becoming a potions mistress. He risked his life, hundreds of times, while she did nothing! How is that fair?"
"It's not," Liz replied instantly, watching Harry. "It's not fair and I know it. I should've been here, I should've helped…but I didn't. I didn't know. I should've known. God, I should've done something…" She ran a hand through her hair, unknowingly copying Harry's actions earlier. "This was a mistake. I'm sorry. I keep thinking I'm doing the right thing and then…I'm sorry for disturbing you today, Mr. Potter. If you'll excuse me – "
She made for the door, but a firm hand stopped her. Reflexes acting before her mind caught up, she spun around, pinning the body to the ground and pointing her formerly hidden wand directly between her attacker's eyes. It wasn't until she noticed the round glasses that she gasped, jumping to her feet. As Harry rose tentatively, she backed away, hand covering her mouth.
"Oh my – I am so sorry," she apologized again, attempting to flee. She stopped at his next words.
"Bloody hell, Elizabeth, with reflexes like that I'd hire you as an Auror in an instant." The grin on his face was quickly mirrored in hers, and she let out a tense laugh.
"Please, it's Liz – my mother's the last person to call me Elizabeth. God, I can't do anything right here, can I?" she asked, grin still tentatively in place. "I feel like all I'm doing is apologizing, but hell, Harry, I'm sorry. This is ridiculous. I can't make heads or tails of any of it." Pausing to study him briefly, she sighed. "I'll be the first to admit that I haven't a clue what I'm doing. All I know for sure is that seven months ago, I received a letter from a Miss Hermione Granger claiming that I had family here. As someone who's been alone for close to thirteen years now, I can assure you it was the best news I've had in a very long while." She tucked her wand back behind her ear and shrugged, hands gravitating toward her jacket pockets. "I imagine that if anyone could understand, it'd be you."
"I do," Harry whispered, his grin faded but still in place. "Merlin, but I do. And I sincerely hope it's true."
The two awkwardly gaped at one another for a time before Hermione interrupted. "Well then, let's get to it, shall we?"
The act of explaining everything to Harry and Ron was rather complicated. It began with Hermione revealing that a certain Molly Weasley, in one of her various weekly chats with her future daughter-in-law, mentioned one Andrew Potter and his wife Olivia in passing. Though Hermione could not gain much more additional information at the time, she worked on Molly and Arthur over a few weeks until bits of the story revealed themselves.
Andrew, the elder Potter by two years, married Olivia Page when James was in his seventh year. As the war raged and it became more evident that Voldemort's focus was on the Potters, Dumbledore offered a solution: escape to America, at least temporarily. James and Lily, fiercely true to their Gryffindor pride, refused; Andrew and Olivia, the calculating Ravenclaws, did not. Before anyone really knew what happened, they were gone, vanished as though they never existed. The Weasleys, or any other wizarding family in Britain, never heard from the pair again.
It was what occurred beyond this point that made matters baffling. The only person to know the full scope of the story was, apparently, Dumbledore. With the man's death, the truth died with him. Though Hermione had been able to discover enough on her own to find Liz, they still could not know for certain if their speculations on the matter were true.
Harry's righteous indignation flared strongly when he heard of the supposed treachery. It took all three of them to convince him not to go to the Burrow immediately and confront the matriarchs. As it was, Ron left not long after Hermione finished to speak with his father, his own eyes flashing rather dangerously. Hermione seemed anxious, but she let him go – Arthur could take care of himself, particularly against his youngest son's fury. Once he left, Harry and Liz watched each other warily.
"So," Liz began, once again twirling her copper ring. "Where do we go from here?"
"I want to speak to Arthur and Molly before doing anything," Harry immediately stated. "I want to hear it from them, individually, why they kept this from me. It's Sirius all over again."
"Sirius Black?" Liz questioned, the name sparking a memory. She vaguely recalled hearing about the fugitive in her third year at school, around the same time she began receiving personal lessons in Potions. "He was the murderer, right? The one who escaped your jail?"
Harry quickly explained the full circumstances, finishing with the man's death in their fifth year. Mentioning it was obviously still difficult for Harry, and as his throat caught, Liz unconsciously reached for his hand. Giving it a tight squeeze, she conveyed her words through touch – I understand. He appeared reassured by the action.
"Well, this has all been very…enlightening," Liz said with a smile as she rose to her feet. "But I've certainly taken up more than enough of both your time. Besides, jet lag is kicking my ass."
"You're staying at the Leaky indefinitely?" Hermione asked, eyes darting mischievously between her companions.
Liz shrugged. "I suppose so. It's a decent establishment, centrally located, and I like it. I don't know how long I'll be here, but for now it seems like my best option."
"Liz, will you excuse me for a moment? I'll be right back." Without another word, Harry darted to the fireplace, calling out an address as the green flames swallowed him. Liz watched the fire die back down with a bemused expression.
"What was that all about?"
"Oh, I've an idea," Hermione replied with a small smirk, before rising to fetch them tea. They sat in companionable conversation for some time, renewing in real life the friendship developed over letters, before Harry returned, beaming widely.
"It's settled – Liz, you'll be staying with me. I've talked it over with Gin and, while she still doesn't fully understand, she trusts my judgment. She's completely thrilled to meet you, by the way – says you absolutely must come to this Saturday's match."
Liz was far too startled by Harry's first revelation to even begin deciphering what else he said. "Stay…with you? Oh Harry, I couldn't possibly. I'll be fine at the Leaky, really."
The man couldn't hide the smirk on his face completely as he replied. "That's a shame, since I've already gone to the trouble of moving your things. Tom was more than willing to help when he found out you're a personal 'friend' of mine."
Narrowing her eyes at him, she fought down a grin. "Humph. I am more and more certain you're related to my father with each passing moment, Mr. Potter. That is exactly the kind of trickery he pulled on a daily basis."
Laughing, he grabbed her arm to pull her to the fireplace. "Come on, I'll give you your first Floo lesson. Mind, you need to be careful about your pronunciation – I'm not sure Knockturn Alley could handle a full-blown American in their midst."
