Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta
Chapter 13.
The sight of Mary Ann standing at her door in the bathing suit was an image that returned to him in dreams all night. And the things that she said and the language she used to say them were very out of character for the normally reserved and cute Muggle.
Fresh out of the shower, and with his hair still wet and slicked back, he stuffed the wands in his jacket pockets and went down to the lobby for coffee. The buffet breakfast queue had formed already, so he averted the whole thing and found a table in the dining room to himself. He grabbed up a complementary copy of the times and riffled through a few pages before the waiter stopped at the table.
"Can I help you sir?" the bright-eyed lad asked.
"Just coffee please – and toast," he said at length. He stomach felt a little shaky and toast would help with that.
The waiter returned with the coffee and a small platter of toast and butter. He thanked the young man and went back to the paper after testing the coffee. The coffee was still too hot, and the morning news failed to stimulate. He thought of the Daily Prophet, and how nice a copy would be. This opened a flood of memories from home. There had been no news from Hannah and he wondered if she had re-opened the Leaky Cauldron. It was also time to check back with Hermione. Surely her huge brain had been able to turn up something on the mysterious cloaked and hooded order and the the Lasaurus character that they had mentioned.
Part of him wanted to believe the story Mary Ann had told. That was the responsible part of him; the part that felt guided by the Ministry to uncover Jerry's killer. And another part of him didn't. That was the part of him that protected Penny and had enjoyed doing so at the circus.
As much as he wanted to forget Mary Ann and dismiss everything she had said, the story was like a small splinter under the skin. The longer you tried to ignore it, the more it bothered you.
Why the hell would Penny, without bodyguards, hang around catacombs after closing hours? Was Mary Ann drinking when she thought she saw her? If she was that might explain a lot. But the whole situation surrounding this case was bizarre anyway. Protecting Penny and finding her hooded stalker at the same time felt like a conflict in interest now. In any case, he would need to talk to Mary Ann again, a sober Mary Ann.
"Waiter," he called and motioned with an index finger.
The young man hustled over to the table.
"Can I help you sir?"
Harry nodded and said, "Yes – you can. You see I'm security with the band staying here."
"Yes sir," the young man acknowledged.
"There's someone with the band I'd like to check on. Can you get me a phone?"
The waiter looked around as if unable to find a phone.
"I can move you to the corner – there's a phone there."
"Thanks, that'll do," Harry said and grabbed up the coffee and newspaper and followed the waiter to the corner table. The waiter sat down the small platter and pulled out a chair.
"Hey, thanks a lot," said Harry.
"No problem sir."
Harry took a deep breath then dialed 309. The phone rang a half a dozen times before it picked up.
"Hullo," answered a thick sounding female voice.
"Mary Ann?"
"Harry – is that you?"
"Yeah, are you up?"
"Yes," she said and paused, " – well no, not really."
"Well, sorry if I woke you, but I needed to speak with you."
"About last night? I was a little under from drink?"
"Yes you were, but I wanted to talk to you. Before the show tonight."
"Can you give me an hour?" she asked.
"Sure, It's nine now – I'll meet you in the foyer at ten."
"Okay – bye."
"Bye."
The butter now was soft enough to spread easily over the toast. He prepared a slice and sampled a bite as he finished up the coffee and replayed Mary Ann's story in his head.
It took more than an hour for Mary Ann to straighten herself out and meet him in the foyer. She spotted him right away and came pittering over in flip-flops with small delicate steps. Her bushy hair was tied behind her and she was wearing large sunglasses and a large straw hat. The small cotton top and short-shorts displayed the sun she had gotten from the day before.
"Good morning," Harry announced with a sly grin.
"Hello Harry," she replied, her voice still rough.
"Would you like something to eat – or drink?" he asked.
"I need something to drink – orange juice I guess," she replied.
"Sure," he said and escorted her through the foyer and out to an outdoor cafe.
They walked along a brick walkway under an umbrella of ornamental trees. Slanted staves of bright sunlight pierced through the leafy canopy to reach the ground. Harry found a table and pulled a chair for Mary Ann. She tossed the large straw hat on the table and shook the hair from her eyes.
After they were seated, a young waiter spotted them and came scampering up.
"I'll have a coffee and a large orange juice for the lady," said Harry and looked at Mary Ann for confirmation. She said nothing but pulled a compact case from her large macrame handbag and opened it. She held the compact mirror in the left hand and lifted the sunglasses with the right.
"Oh," she sighed and snapped the compact case shut.
"It looks like you're dressed for another day at the pool," he said and raised a brow. "Isn't this a work day?"
"Of course – but I'll have a few hours. If I drink enough water, maybe I can sweat out this hangover," she said and winced. For a moment he imagined her in the tiny bathing suit, just as she had been at her door the night before. He clicked off the thought and prepared a few questions.
The waiter returned with the coffee and the large orange juice. He looked amusingly at Mary Ann and stifled a grin.
"So what did you need to discuss?" she asked and sampled the juice.
"It's about what you said last night," he replied.
"Harry, I'd like to forget last night. If it's all the same to you."
"I'd like to go over what you said about Penny." His explanation was soft and pleasant..
"Talking about Penny could cost me my job," she said and looked away.
"No, no, no – this is between you and me."
"I told you all I knew – there's nothing more to tell," she said firmly.
"Well, it was late last night. Could we go over it one more time."
Mary Ann looked away as if unsure on how to proceed.
"The story about the catacombs – that part?"
"Yeah, that's exactly what I mean. You remember what you told me?"
"I think so. I mean, I know what I saw. I haven't forgot that."
Harry nodded. "So you saw Penny, after hours, standing in front of the entrance to the catacombs?"
"And with a brown leather journal," she said and took a long gulp of orange juice.
"And then, you said, she disappeared?" he asked and looked for her eyes.
Mary Ann canted her head and scratched the top of her scalp through the bushy hair.
"Right, yeah, that's what I said. And that's what happened."
"You said it was around six – is that right?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yeah, I think so."
"And you don't think the shadows could have fooled you?"
She paused to consider the question, and finally shook her head firmly.
"No."
"You mentioned a girlfriend. Who was she?" he asked, drawing his eyes into a bead.
She looked at him awkwardly and said, "Jackie – it was Jackie. You don't believe me?"
"It's not a matter of belief. It's a matter of the evening light and the shadows."
She shook her head and glanced heavenward.
"Well, you believe what you like. I really could care less, but it's getting late. I need to go," she said and started to rise.
"Good Morning," said a familiar female voice from behind them.
They both turned to face the voice and Harry started up out of the chair.
"Oh, don't let me interrupt," she said, pausing beside the table.
"Good morning Penny," Harry and Mary Ann chorused.
"Well, we made it to our last show in Rome," she said with disingenuous cheer.
"Rome's been great," Harry added.
"Yeah, it has. We've got one last show – so let's make a big one."
Harry and Mary Ann nodded.
"Oh, Harry, if you get a chance, stop by before we leave," she said and Harry nodded.
"Sure."
"A few we need to discuss. Well – cheers," she said and made a dancer's turn to leave the way she came.
For a few seconds, Harry and Mary Ann looked at one another, puzzled.
"You think she overheard any of that?" asked Mary Ann.
"No, I'm sure she didn't."
"Well, that's why I didn't want to talk about it, or any of last night. I mean, what an embarrassment."
"Ah, you had a little too much to drink. Don't worry about it," he said, dismissively with a wave of his hand.
"And I can't believe I asked you in," she said and flushed pink.
Unable to construct a placating comment, Harry shrugged.
"But you're a nice guy – not like most others," she said and rose from the chair.
"Well, thanks," he said and smiled.
She looked perturbed by that. "Well don't be too content with yourself. Girls are not always looking for nice guys."
Defeated, Harry looked toward the cold coffee while the pneumatic pop of Mary Ann's flip-flops disappeared along the brick walkway.
‡‡‡‡‡
The stroll to Penny's flat-sized hotel room felt like a burden on this day. Nothing he could imagine would require his attention before this final show in Rome. Everything had been attended to. Marco and Aldo had left word of their intention to be there an hour before the show began. He had a strange feeling that no matter what she said, it might have something to do with him and Mary Ann having drinks at the cafe. Did Penny know Mary Ann had spotted her that day? As soon as he rapped on the door, he dismissed the whole thought as paranoia.
He heard the bolt unlatch from the other side and the door swung open to reveal Jimbo standing in the doorway with a passive look of curiosity, resembling a cape buffalo.
"What's you need Potter?"
"Penny wanted to talk," he said and the big doorman furrowed his brows with squinted eyes.
"Come on in then," he said and turned on his heels.
"Penny – it's Potter," he said and grabbed a newspaper and plopped down in an oversized chair.
There were glassed doors pulled open in front of a small balcony. Penny, dressed casually in a Tank Tee and cutoffs, was cradling a laptop with her long bare legs kicked up on the table.
She looked up and smiled. "Hello Harry."
"Hello Penny – alright?"
"Super – just googling our next tour stop. Can you guess?"
"No, and I wouldn't try."
"Paris – we're going to Paris," she said and rolled the corner of her mouth into a wry grin.
"That's great. You know I've always wanted to. And feel like I should have been already."
"Yeah, I know what you mean – felt the same way myself, before I went."
"Well, I look forward to it," he said and drew a face. "You had something to talk about?"
Penny closed the lid on the laptop and quickly wheeled her legs off the table.
"I've been trying to talk to you Harry – and it seems like something always comes up," she confessed and swiped a whisk of raven hair out of her eyes. "I hope I didn't mess up anything with you and Mary Ann?"
"No, not at all," he replied dryly.
"You working her Harry?"
"No, she's just a friend."
"Good – I think you'd be disappointed. But that's not what I called you up for," she added.
"I'm glad," he said, curtly.
"I'm setting up the performance dates, and I wondered – if you're planning on taking another weekend in London?"
"I haven't really thought about it," he said, dismissively.
"No big deal – but if you do, let me know."
"Sure enough," he said, breviloquently.
"Harry?" she said, staring at a wonderful view of the oculus of the Pantheon. "Are you comfortable – being around me – because you don't seem like it?"
Harry smiled unevenly – then flushed.
"It's the job Penny," he said at length.
"Oh, so it's the job that make you uncomfortable?"
"I wouldn't say uncomfortable. It's not that at all. But I have to guard against distractions."
"So, am I a distraction?"
"In a pleasant way – yes."
"Am I a distraction now – I'm sorry, I'm just trying to understand."
"Bloody hell – of course not."
He took a deep breath and got up from the table.
"It's force of habit – if something were to happen – on my watch..." he said and walked over to the railing. A prairie fire of a sunset was fading to a golden brown.
"And you'd blame yourself... like..." she blurted.
He spun away from the railing before she could finish saying 'Sandy' and walked up to her chair. She looked up with raven locks falling away from her face. There was curiosity in her face and a glimmer of shining sliver in the grey eyes.
"I've got to go – get ready for tonight," he said and breathed deeply. "I like being around you – okay?" he added and turned toward the door.
Penny's warm gaze followed Harry's footsteps to the door and then turned back to the cityscape of Rome and she smiled deeply and with satisfaction.
‡‡‡‡‡
Marco and Aldo showed up at the Orion club just as they had promised. Smiling and eager, they cased the outside of the venue and took their normal positions in the two back corners, opposite the stage. Being the last night the band would play in Rome, the guests responded by completely packing the place. Harry could hear Penny, Harley, and Jimbo arguing backstage.
"Look, two tried onstage this way the last time. The chairs are completely pulled up on the right side, so they got to use the left," Penny said, firmly but with calm.
"There's not enough room for both on the left side," Harley protested.
"Well, use the floor off the stage," insisted the raven-haired beauty.
"Jimbo took the stage last time," rebuked Harley.
"Oh, for God's sake – you two settle this," she said and stormed off. "Harry, can you hang outside the door? You're good with zippers," she added with a grin and disappeared into the dressing room.
Harry gave her a mock snarl. Harley and Jimbo gave him a look of despise that could melt lead. As much as he disliked the comment, he had no idea if she was serious or not. He also couldn't decide if Penny took pleasure in being a shameless exhibitionist or if her unabashed manners were a force of habit. Show business could do a lot to change you, he reasoned and stood obediently within earshot of the door.
After a few minutes and with no calls for help, Penny emerged from the door in a shiny, black and white checkerboard patterned, outfit that looked painted on. The material was new and high-tech, and she paused to explain. It was so loosely woven the garment was somewhat transparent at the distance they were standing, but the flat fibers were so reflective that under the stage lights the costume would be completely opaque to the audience. It was also cool and wicking and very good for the heat.
"Not overdressed are we?" he quipped.
"We'll give them their monies worth tonight," she said in a businesslike tone and made her way toward the stage with Harry in tow.
After the normal introductions, the band kicked the show off with several of their most popular tracks. As usual at the Orion Club, there was more room onstage for Penny to deliver a true show band performance. Within fifteen minutes they were bringing down the house.
Harley and Jimbo were standing firmly to hold down the weak left flank. Several overzealous guests tried to get onstage from that side during the last show, which was not as big as this one. In the last minutes before the show started, Harley had persuaded Jimbo to let him have the stage. He was standing at the end and overlooking the crowd as Jimbo stood on the floor like a bulldog, five feet below. Good luck to anyone trying to get past those two.
With things secure inside, he wiggled through the crowd and around to backstage and finally onto the yard behind the Orion Club. After waiting a small period of time, to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim light, he prepared to apparate to the small balcony outside Penny's hotel room.
The amped percussion of Ace Varney's drumbeat was reverberating in his head as he disappeared from Orion Club through the long tube of apparition.
Quickly exchanging the sounds of Ace Varney's drum-roll for the soft call of evening jay, he took full corporeal form on the small balcony outside Penny's hotel room. The lights were left on in the sitting room, but no one appeared to be at home. As a precaution, he backed into a dim corner of the balcony and waited a few minutes to make sure.
Trying the door, the knob turned halfway and then stopped short.
"Alohomora," he muttered in a low voice. A blue light jumped from the tip of his wand to jump around in the working of the latch until the bolt clicked open.
He entered the room quietly, still worried that Penny might have left someone behind. With no trace of anyone or any sounds in the room he stepped gently toward the entryway closet. Hopefully the wall safe would be there. He loved hotel wall safes. That way you knew exactly where to look.
"Lumos," he conjured and a bright wand light illuminated the entryway. He pushed aside layers of clothes on hangers but found no safe. He was backing out of the closet when he heard a knock on the door.
Damn – must be room service to leave chocolates and thank you cards on the bed pillows.
He quickly magicked the privacy lock closed with one swipe. He could hear the main lock unfasten and the door crack open until the privacy lock stopped the door's movement with a sudden snap.
"Room service," the attendant called out. After a few seconds of silence they closed and locked the door from the outside.
When his heart rate returned to normal, Harry moved to the bedroom, which was enormous in size. The walk-in closet was also gigantic and full of clothes. How could anyone travel with this much stuff? The safe was located on the load bearing wall. He tried the handle, just for grin and giggles, and found it locked.
"Alohomora," he conjured. The little blue light from the wand jumped into the safe to go round and round. Finally the sound of motor gears turning and the latch sprung open.
The brown leather journal was in the back, pushed behind rings and jewelry and all fashions of bling. Being very careful not to disturb the items in front, he gently lifted the journal and tilted it forward to retrieve it.
Moving to better light, he began to riffle through the pages of handwritten text. At first glance it appeared to be a tour diary. Each entry described the bands reception at each tour stop. Simple enough at first glance. Looking at the last entry is it where it started to get a little strange.
How many bones in the tomb marked CXLIII in St. Domitilla : thirteen.
Flipping back a page or two revealed the entry for Amsterdam. It read just as cryptically.
The ratio of the length to width of the skinny bridge is seven hundred forty eight.
He skipped back to the entry for London. This entry was also puzzling.
How many Crenels surround the bailey walls at the Castle of London: thirty six.
Skipping back through a few more pages produced the results one would expect to find in the journal of a rock band. A description of a concert in Budapest detailed routine information : the band opened with Trainwreck with a super crowd response. Wore the silver jumpsuit with wings to start the show. Beatty was off all night – the chorus was outstanding as well as the backups. Finished well with In the On Side and then did two more encore numbers to finish. Excellent night...
Turning back a couple or more pages led to the same nonsense. Penny entered a mysterious entry for a concert in Madrid.
How many Lions pull Cibeles' carriage: 2
How many Lions feet touch the ground: 6
How many spires on the tallest tower of Cibeles palace: 9
Total all three and subtract ten: 7
There was little time, standing in a closet, to make sense of all this. Digging around for the mobile, he took pictures of the pages that were answers to riddles. Possibly Hermione could make sense of the mystery. The book wouldn't lay flat, so one hand had to manage the phone while holding flat the journal with the other. Checking each picture for clarity, the next trick would be inserting the journal back in the safe without disturbing the jewelry. Carefully slanting the top of the journal forward, he dropped the bottom behind the jewelry without making a mess. Luckily the safe was the type that automatically re-locked itself without having to know the combination code.
Quietly unfastening the privacy lock and then stepping back out on the balcony he locked the door behind him. Now, if only Penny didn't suspect a trick, the evening's adventure would be a success.
He felt the weight return to his feet and when he opened his eyes the yard behind the Orion club was visible. Ace Varney's bombastic percussion was rattling the trash bin lids. He'd lost very little night vision and raced immediately for the back stage.
Everything looked normal, and Penny was onstage hitting high notes and throwing kicks over her head. The bad news was that she had changed costumes while he was gone. He'd been gone at most ten minutes and she had changed out of the sheer checkerboard costume. She would have missed him when he didn't show up at her dressing room door. Managing a convincing excuse should be easy enough.
A 'wardrobe malfunction', she had called it. The back seam began to give way in the middle of her most physical number.
She gave him a funny look at his excuse for the unexpected disappearance. 'A suspicious character', he called the excuse, 'ran out the foyer for some reason.'
'Oh – I see,' was her only remark.
‡‡‡‡‡
Hermione Granger looked at the growing file on Penny Penthane and then looked at the mobile phone on her desk. It had been several days since her last talk with Harry and she was curious about any new developments. There was also some news at the Ministry and it would make a good excuse to ring the wizard. But still, she had he doubts.
Unknown to Harry, Shacklebolt had demanded a background check on Penny, and had instructed Hermione to do so on her first day back. She sat nervously tapping on the manila colored file with the freshly varnished nail of her index finger. It was mid-morning in Rome and Harry should be up by now, she reasoned.
She picked up the phone, considering the thought of ringing Harry, and then shook her head and gently placed the phone back on the table. Hopefully, Harry wouldn't find the information distressing, but she was worried that Harry might see the whole thing as a lack of faith by Shacklebolt. Bit in truth, that's was it was, Shacklebolt had concerns about sending his best field agent on an extended assignment with a witch like Penthane. There was however, information that he needed to know.
Again, she picked up the phone, and this time she rang his number. After a half a dozen rings, she heard the faint click of a connection.
"Hello..." he answered, thickly.
"Harry – that you?"
"Yeah – can't you tell?"
"You sound different – you just get up?" she asked.
"A few minutes ago. What time is it?"
"It after ten. Can you talk?"
"Sure – I can talk. I was wondering if you had found anything."
"Well yes – it's about Penny," she blurted.
"About Penny – nothing about the wizard that's trying to kill her?"
"I'll get to that," she snapped back.
"Okay – what about Penny," he said and she sensed defensiveness in his voice.
"We always thought – well, the Ministry thought she had Muggle parents," she added.
"Yeah – and so?"
"She was adopted at age six. And we don't know who her maternal parents were," said Hermione.
There was a noticeable pause. "I don't see how this matters."
"Perhaps not, but if we don't know who her parents were, then we don't know where she's from. And you know different cultures produce different aptitudes in magic. It might matter a lot," she said without pausing for a breath.
"But Hermione, she doesn't use magic," he persisted.
"How the hell do you know that?"
"Because, she doesn't carry a wand," he said, curtly.
"And how the hell do you know that?"
There was another pause.
"Okay, okay – point taken. What else do you have for me?"
"The Lasaurus character you mentioned?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, he shows up in quite a few texts. Not sure if it's the man you're after, but he shows up a lot, and over a long period of time."
"How long?"
"Over several generations of related references," she explained.
"Well – that might explain the old magic that Ron was hit with."
"Yes. It might. And what have you found out? Other than Penny doesn't carry a wand," she added with cutting sarcasm.
"She keeps a rather odd journal," he explained.
"Really. She doesn't seem like the kind of girl to keep a journal."
"I'll send you some pictures I took from it," he said.
"She let you take pictures?"
"No, of course not. She didn't know. Have you talked to Ron lately," he asked, steering the conversation away from Penny.
"Not lately – but I think he's doing better."
"You think, do you?"
"What are you saying?"
"I need you talking to him – about the night he and Jerry were hit. We need to prod his memories of that night," explained Harry.
There was a long pause. "That's difficult and you know it."
"I'm sorry about the row you two are having, but I need that information Hermione," he persisted.
There was another pause. "I'll see what I can do," she said at length.
"Thanks Hermione. I'll send the pictures. I gotta go," he said, quickly.
"Just a second. We have a new addition at the Ministry," she said in an upbeat tone.
"A new addition – who?" he asked, sensing from the level of excitement in Hermione's voice meant he should be pleased.
"Neville! He signed up last week. Kingsley has him going through the Auror training and he's doing the Dueling and Defense class with me."
"Well, that's great Hermione. Really glad to hear it."
"Just thought you should know. Take care Harry."
"Bye..."
She said goodbye to the wizard who for so long had been like a brother to her. She paused to consider the other half of Shacklebolt's assignment.
Shacklebolt had been more than a little concerned in sending Harry on a lengthy assignment with Penny Penthane. Hermione was to evaluate Harry while researching Penny and the mysterious Order. If she observed from her conversations that Harry was falling under the spell of the beautiful band-leader then she was to report this to Kingsley immediately. If Shacklebolt sensed the raven-haired beauty was in control of this case rather than his best field agent then Harry would be off this assignment before you could say 'Wingardium Leviosa'.
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Thanks for reading - Please review. I still have warm memories of my last review on this story and I'd like to experience that again... :)