Fanfiction

These Deep Solitudes-Chapter 2

Title: These Deep Solitudes (02)
Author name: Carfiniel
Author email: carfiniel@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13

Summary: Remus and Katraina take a shopping trip to Diagon Alley and discover more about each other than they'd originally hoped for. Remus remembers Hogwarts and the friends he treasured, and the pain some of them caused.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This title is taken from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem "Woods in Winter" and will gain significance later on in the fic...

Also, Will Stanton, Lady Greythorne, and Hunter's Combe, are all inventions of Susan Cooper, and it is with deepest respect that I give Will a cameo in this fic.

Chapter Two - Bookshops and Busses

"Quit fidgeting," Rain said for the second time, glancing at Remus. She hid her smile by turning to look out the window. In less than a week this compartment would be full of students heading back to Hogwarts. Minerva seemed to think there would be fewer students, and wasn't sure if there would be any first years at all.

Remus' hand closed over hers and pulled it away from her face. "You're a fine one to talk," he said. She heard the smile in his voice, and his touch sent a tingle shooting up her arm. "You're acting like a first year in the sorting line."

She shot a rueful glance at the ragged fingernails on her left hand. "I suppose you're right." They really needed to be repainted; the Burnt Ogre colour had chipped and faded to A Bit Singed Ogre. She sighed. "Dumbledore's put a lot of faith in us. What if our errand doesn't help them find Harry and Draco?"

"Focus, Rainy Day! Stop thinking of Harry and Draco--what a combination! I almost pity their kidnappers--and think first about Diagon Alley."

"Mmm." She noticed he hadn't let go of her fingers. She slid her thumb experimentally across his. He kept talking, but coloured faintly.

"It's a wonder Dumbledore got Mundungus to help us out; after last year, he's justifiably a bit more paranoid than usual."

"And that's saying something," she agreed, relenting. It was nice to see she could get a reaction from him.

There was a tap at the compartment door and he dropped her hand and shot to his feet. It was a smiling woman--surely not the same one, after all these years?--with the food trolley. Remus bought two meat pasties and tea. He offered some to Rain.

"Thank you." She smiled at him and saw the slow warming of his amber eyes as he smiled back.

"Your books," he said abruptly. "I've enjoyed them. I liked The Defiant Muggle the best, I think. What a fellow, Churchill. Took a lot of praise, didn't it?"

She felt her face heat. "You've been paying attention," she remarked, surprised at how dry she sounded. "It was popular. Everyone knows Dumbledore's part in defeating Grindelwald, but not too many wizards care too much about the Muggle side of World War II."

"I rather liked The Reluctant Hero, too," Remus said, glancing slyly at her. "Not many people out there writing sympathetic books about high-profile werewolves."

"Well, after all, Minister Latrans was very important in ending the Napoleonic Wars. It's not his fault--well, I suppose it is, in a way; those poor children--but still, it isn't fair that people overlook the good things he did, just because of one accident."

"It's like that though," Remus said sombrely. "Never know when you might hurt someone. Always have to be careful. This year is going to be different to my first year teaching."

A tinny voice announced the last stop, saving her from having to answer. Rain felt her pulse speed up. King's Cross, and then Diagon Alley and their meeting with Mundungus Fletcher.

~*~

The Leaky Cauldron was filled with people, but Mundungus Fletcher wasn't one of them. Remus ordered butterbeer for them both and put a hand on Rain's elbow to guide her to a table. She felt her breath catch at that casually familiar touch.

"Did you hear someone told the Ministry they'd spotted Sirius Black in Cornwall?" The voice rose above the other conversations, and any reply to the strident question was inaudible, but Remus' fingers tightened on her arm. When they reached the empty corner table, his brows were creased by a frown. He released her arm and sat down in the chair next to hers, moving it slightly away from her.

"Padfoot is terribly concerned about Harry," he said. "He did write how glad he was to see you again. He wanted to know what you'd thought of his time in Az--in That Place--asked if you thought it would scar a man permanently."

Rain shot him a quizzical look. "Why would he ask me? I'm only the History of Magic teacher. He ought to ask Madame Pomfrey."

"He wanted your opinion specially, Rain," Remus said, his expression unreadable.

"Well," Rain said, and paused. Why did he need her opinion...a woman's opinion? Was he thinking of his influence on Harry? Had he met a nice girl somewhere? She sighed. "I think it would scar someone permanently, yes. But if his friends loved him enough, they could get past it. It wouldn't be easy."

Remus' shoulders slumped. "Of course." He met her eyes and seemed ready to add more, but an excited voice interrupted.

"Remus Lupin! How marvelous, absolutely spiffing to see you again, old chap! And is this lovely thing Minerva's little cousin? You old dog!" Mundungus dug an elbow into Remus' ribs as he sat down, a tankard of cider in his hand.

Remus rubbed his ribs, looking slightly pained. "Mundungus," he said equably. "I hope you're well."

"Would be, would be, if it weren't for all this business with Potter. Poor bloke. Stuck with a Malfoy."

"Unless this young Draco was in on the plan, and only disappeared to seem innocent," Rain suggested, keeping her voice low. The suspicion had been growing in her mind as she learned more about the boy. And yet...she thought of Severus, and wondered if there were more to Malfoy than she had heard.

"I don't think so," Remus said reflectively. "It seems wrong somehow."

"Those Malfoys are a bad lot," Fletcher said. "But no doubt we'll find out sooner or later. In the meantime, you're to wait here for word from Arthur Weasley. He wants to speak with you about something, asked me to set up a meeting. We've sent Aurors out, of course, but Arthur's really the brains behind the search effort. Aurors these days," he added with a snort. "Should never have pensioned off old Moody." He shook his head sadly. "Though I suppose he went in the harness, in the end."

"To Alastor Moody, then," said Remus, lifting his butterbeer, and they drank.

"Well, then, I'll be off," Fletcher said. "Busy day tomorrow. Here's a little light reading for you, courtesy of Arthur." He dropped a thick yellow envelope on the table between them, and left.

Remus looked down at it, his face grim. "Poor Alastor." He picked up the envelope and removed two smaller envelopes, one addressed to Rain and one to him. "I suppose we ought to read these tonight. Dumbledore reserved two rooms for us. I think I'll head up to bed."

"I'll walk with you," Rain said. He handed her the envelope with her name on it and stood up.

Tom led them to a suite on the third floor. From the sitting room, doors led to two bedrooms, separated by a balcony. He carried Rain's bag into her room and checked the fire. "Lovely bloke, then," he said, grinning toothlessly at her. "Don't let 'im slip away now, lassie."

Rain gave him a brittle smile. "I won't."

~*~

Remus waited in the sitting room as Tom settled Rain. His thoughts were whirling as they so rarely did. Level-headed Moony, that was him--except where Rain was concerned.

Tom came out and unlocked his room for him, then offered him the key. "She'm a lovely lass," he offered, taking Remus' battered satchel into the room. "Be sure to take care of her, now."

Remus' throat ached. He swallowed hard. "Yes, sir," he managed. Hopefully Tom didn't notice the strain in his voice. "Wake me early, please," he said, and then Tom was gone and he was alone.

Unless you counted misery and memories as company.

Oh, Rain. For two blissful days he had believed in true joy, had honestly thought he might have a chance at happiness. He had believed Rain was more glad to see him than mere friendship warranted. That somehow he had a chance with her now.

He had written to Sirius about Harry, and received the strange reply: Sirius already knew, keep him informed of EVERYthing, and could Moony ask Rain what she thought of him?

He didn't know why the pain of it surprised him. He had loved Katraina McGonagall for nearly twenty years, and Sirius had never paid attention to her until now.

"Not true," he said aloud to the empty room. "He was going to take her to the Leavers Ball." Remus had frequently resented how Sirius ignored Rain's devotion, but he had rarely been as furious with his best friend as he had over the Leavers Ball. He would never forget the emptiness in Rain's eyes when she told him Sirius had cancelled their plans. He had never seen her cry until that day, and her tears had frightened him inexplicably.

He put his arms around her awkwardly, and she turned, burying her face in his chest, clinging to him. "Rain," he said. "Oh, Rainy Day. I'll kill him. Ass. Bloody imbecile. I'll kill him."

"Oh, no, Remus! Don't be angry at him. After all, every boy wanted to take Katie Bliss. He'll be really happy."

"Don't you stick up for him!" Remus ordered. "He's an ass. Plenty of guys didn't want to go with her. James. Me."

"James has Lily."

And I have no one. As he looked down at her, the idea struck him with frightening force. "You'll show him. Go with me, Rain." He held his breath.

Rain's sobs abated. "You, Remus?" she breathed, looking up at him. His shirt, he noticed, was soaked through, but he forgot that when her green eyes met his. "Yes, you're right." She sniffed. "We'll have fun."

She pulled away then, perhaps feeling as awkward as he did. When she realised she had potions in five minutes and ran off in a panic, Remus had gone back to the Gryffindor common room, where Sirius and James were playing a game of exploding snap while Lily looked on. Remus' anger was simmering dangerously, and when he saw Sirius laughing, oblivious to the fact that he had just broken Rain's heart, his anger boiled over.

He crossed the room in four angry strides and punched Sirius in the jaw. For all his thin frame, Remus had the strength of the werewolf in him, and he had connected soundly. Sirius fell back, cracking the back of his head against a chair.

"What the--"

"You stupid great prat!" Remus spat at him. "I hope you're happy with yourself."

Sirius' dark eyes glittered with shock and pain. "What are you on about?"

"Remus, really--" James began.

"Shut it, James," Remus warned. "This is between this bloody idiot and me."

"Are you mad?" Sirius asked, wiping blood from his lip.

"I'm not. But you must be." He pulled back his fist, ready to jog Sirius' memory. But a hand touched his arm.

"Remus, what is this about?" asked Lily's calm voice.

"Ask him," Remus replied, his voice tight. He jerked his chin at Sirius. "Ask him who he's taking to the Leavers Ball."

"We all know!" James cried, beginning to get impatient. "He's taking Rain McGonagall. What is this about, Moony?"

Remus' eyes were fixed on Sirius'. Suddenly his friend looked a bit shifty. "Well, I--" He broke off.

"Go on," Remus ordered grimly. "Tell them."

"What is it, Sirius?" And none of them could lie to Lily. Sirius looked down.

"Well, see, Katie Bliss broke up with Roger Bell, see, and--"

"Padfoot!" James exclaimed, twigging.

"Oh, Sirius, you didn't," Lily said.

Sirius scowled. "Rain understands. She's a sweet kid, but she's just a sixth year, anyway. She'll have her ball next year."

"She understands," Remus repeated flatly. "Oh, good. That explains why the front of my robe is soaked, then."

"Sirius!" That was all Lily said, but in her tone was such reproach that Sirius hung his head.

"Lily," Remus said, unpinning his gaze from his friend and turning his back on him. "Lily, would you go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow? I need to buy a new dress robe."

Her eyes--bottle green, darker than Rain's--lit up, and she bestowed a brilliant Lily smile on him. "Of course I will, Remus! How wonderful."

"Wonderful? Why are you so damn angry then, Moony?" Sirius growled. "If you're taking Rain, everything's fine. Why do you care if I don't take her?"

His tight rein on his temper snapped. "Because I love her!" he howled. "I love her, and she loves you!"

Remus shivered, bringing himself back to the present. "And that's still the case, isn't it, Sirius?" he murmured, and threw himself down on his bed, the envelope forgotten. But sleep was a long time in coming.

~*~

The next day, Rain was already awake and sitting at the table with a book when Tom brought up a breakfast tray, laden with enough food for two. "I'll just pop over to wake Mr. Lupin, luv," he said, and vanished.

Remus stumbled in a few minutes later, rubbing his forehead and squinting. Rain stared at him, shocked by his haggard appearance. "You look like something the cat brought in," she said before she could stop herself.
He grimaced and sat down across from her. "Thank you, Rain. It is consummately unfair that you, then, should be so chipper."

She laughed and poured a cup of coffee. "Here. Maybe you'll feel more human after you drink this."

He drew back and instinctively she wished she could recall the words. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking--oh, Remus, I just forget sometimes!"

His mouth quirked in a bemused smile. "Forget," he murmured. "You truly are a treasure. Sirius--" But he closed his mouth and frowned.

"I didn't mean to--" she began, blushing, and he shook his head.

"I know. You didn't hurt my feelings, Rain. It's nice to know you think of me as human."

She felt her face get hot. "Who wouldn't?" she cried. "You are good and kind and wise--"

He held up a hand, laughing. "I'm no saint, either." He snorted. "Saint Remus, patron of beastly transformations."

He was joking about his lycanthropy! Rain stared. "You've changed," she said, her voice small. Suddenly she felt the huge gulf of years between them, years in which he had existed only in her dreams, and she had been only words on a page to him. How could they ever bridge that chasm of loneliness? As she stared at him, his grin began to fade. "How could you go off alone for all those years?" she whispered. "Without a word? And shut me out of your life?"

"Oh, Rain, never. I just--" He paused, and her heart sped up. "I suppose I felt that as long as I could believe you safe in your castle, untouched--happy--I could still have faith that all would be well."

Rain felt tears spring up in her eyes. She reached across and took his hand, making him drop his toast. "Happy?" she heard herself say, though she really hadn't meant to. "Without you?"

He flashed a surprised smile at her, but before he could speak they heard a tapping at the window. Remus looked up and his whole demeanor changed; his smile vanished, his shoulders slumped. He stood up, escaping her hand, and went to the window. Rain stared at his empty seat and took a bite of dry toast.

"It's from Sirius," he announced shortly. "He's had word from Harry. He says he's all right, and that he'll be at school."

"What?" She stood up and went to look over his shoulder. He moved away from her slightly, and she frowned.

"He doesn't explain much in this," Remus said. "He wants us to meet him...he's in Hunter's Combe."

"Harry?"

"No, Sirius. He has something to give us. Tonight, at eight o'clock...on the manor grounds, good heavens!"

"What?"

"Mmm. He's pestering Lady Greythorne while he's there. Shame! You would have thought abandoning her niece--" He snapped his mouth shut and slapped the parchment against his hand. "Well, while we're in London I might as well pick up some supplies. Would you like to come shopping with me, Rain?"

"Abandoning?" she repeating, frowning at his attempt to change the subject. "Did Sirius--"

"Well, he was seeing Julara Greythorne at the time, wasn't he?" Remus said, and she thought he sounded a trifle defensive. "Got himself thrown in Azkaban. Not that Jules cares now, of course; but the Lady has a long memory."

"Well, after all, what female could resist the famous Padfoot charm?" Rain said, thinking to make him laugh. He frowned slightly at her instead, obviously not amused. As she was puzzling over what to say next, he turned away.

"Flourish and Blotts first, I think," he said. "And I should like to visit Quality Quidditch Supplies for a belated present for Harry."

What have I done? Rain wondered, draining her teacup. "Give a girl a few minutes to get ready, will you?" she called after him. He lifted a hand and vanished into his room.

"Hmph!" She piled her hair into an untidy bun and slipped into green robes and comfortable shoes. As she reached for her wand, the bracelet on her left wrist slid off onto the table. She grabbed at it and examined the clasp before putting it back on. "Reparo!" she muttered, poking it with her wand. With a quick glance in the mirror ("Lovely, dear, but couldn't you have brushed your hair?") she ran out to the hall.

Remus was waiting for her on the landing. "I need to go to Gringotts first, please," she said. "I've left all my personal money at Hogwarts." He nodded and offered his arm. She accepted with a thrill of pleasure, and they headed through the back courtyard to Diagon Alley.

At Gringotts Rain carefully blocked Remus' view of her vault--no need to remind him of her wealth or his lack thereof--and took what she thought would be enough. When the cart deposited them back in the hall, Remus touched her arm. As she looked up at him, he seemed almost self-conscious.

"I need to ask a favour of you." He held out his money pouch. "Could you change the sickles for me?"

She had never thought of the trouble a werewolf would have handling wizarding money. She accepted the bag and approached one of the goblins, trying to remember how Remus used to buy things on Hogsmeade weekends. The goblin didn't bat an eye at changing all the silver for gold or bronze, and she wondered if it were a commonplace request; how many werewolves were there in Britain, anyway?

Back in the bright sunshine, Rain allowed Remus to steer her first to Flourish and Blotts, where they browsed contentedly for half an hour before Remus purchased two books on curses and one on countercurses. Rain selected a book about classical Muggle music, Hogwarts: A History, and a small grey volume whose title was noted only on the inside: Werewolves and the Humans Who Love Them. The clerk noted the title and--instead of looking disgusted--smiled at her.

"Studying up on curses for some special occasion, Mr. Lupin?" he said.

"I am a professor, Chumley," Remus said mildly.

"We'll, if you're planning a present for Pettigrew, toss in something for me."

Shocked, Rain stared at him, but he finished wrapping her books in brown paper and smiled benignly at her. "Seven sickles your change, miss," he said. She thanked him and followed Remus out of the bookstore.

"One of Padfoot's old friends," he said once they were on the pavement once again. "Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Azkaban. Dumbledore has had me contacting a lot of the old crowd. Padfoot's one of our best, you know, and he can't do his work if everyone believes he's working for Lord Voldemort."

A middle-aged witch passing by looked at Remus with a scandalized expression and hurried past. Rain tried to laugh. "Be careful, Remus," she said. "You're scaring people."

Remus sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "What did you buy?" he asked, apparently to reach a more mundane topic of conversation.

Rain blushed until she felt her auburn roots prickling--curse the porcelain skin that refused to tan but showed her emotions so well! "Mm," she replied intelligently. "Hogwarts: A History."

"Oh, Hermione Granger will love you for that," Remus murmured.

"A book about classical music, and one on folklore."

"Folklore?" Remus glanced curiously at her. "What sort?"

"Oh, nothing important," she stammered, shrugging. She tried, under cover of the motion, to shift the book further from his reach.

He was almost too quick for her. He darted around her, a mischievous look in his eyes that had been absent, she suspected, since James and Lily died. "What is it, Rain?" he asked. "The casting and use of love spells?"

"Moony!" she protested, dodging and nearly running into an elderly wizard. "Sorry!" she called after the man.

Remus captured her left wrist in one slender but deceptively powerful hand. "Very well, Rainstorm," he said, using Sirius' favourite nickname for her. "Fess up! Are you trying to learn how to have Snape kidnapped by Queen Mab? Going to try to find a genie who'll give you wishes? You've got me curious!"

"Oh, Moony!" she exclaimed, twisting in an effort to get away. "Really!" They were beginning to attract attention, with the normally sedate Remus acting as if they were still school-children. "You're acting like Padfoot!"

"What if I am? You make me feel young again, Rain!" He grinned, apparently unaware it was doing devastating things to her heart. He reached for the books in her other hand, and she pulled them quickly behind her back.

Instead of giving up, as a younger Remus might have done in the face of opprobrium, he took a step towards her, throwing her off balance. His fingers closed on the book just before she fell backwards against a shop wall. The impact knocked the books from both their hands, and he leaned down smoothly as she darted for them. He swept them easily out of her reach, and she gave up, leaning against the wall for support as she watched him remove the book cover from his prize.

When he opened the book, he stared open-mouthed at the title page for a very long minute. It was as startled as Rain had ever seen him. He took a step back, then stopped and straightened to meet her shocked gaze. His golden eyes seemed to have ignited.

"Rain," he breathed, almost as if he were afraid. But afraid of what?

She opened her mouth, unsure what she could say. I love you, crossed her mind, but it seemed too vast and frightening; how would he react to that? "I...Remus, I--"

"Professor Lupin? Professor McGonagall?" It was a young woman's hesitant voice, sounding as if she were torn between being amused and being appalled. Rain exhaled slowly, half irritated and half relieved at the interruption. She and Remus stared at one another for a moment longer before he turned to face the girl. As he moved, he unblocked Rain's view of her, and the girl let out a surprised, "Oh!"

Rain didn't recognize her, so why did the girl know her name? Remus appeared to, though. He smiled. "Hermione, it's nice to see you. Have you had a good summer?"

"Well, it's been a little anxious, hasn't it?" she said frankly. "I hope you've been well. I'm sorry," she added to Rain. "You look a lot like one of my professors. Though, of course, much younger than Professor McGonagall."

Remus chuckled. "I've said before that you're the cleverest witch your age that I've ever met," he said, and the bushy-haired girl looked pleased, if a little confused. "I'd like you to meet Rain McGonagall, Minerva's cousin and your new History of Magic professor."

At this, Hermione looked positively thrilled. "Really?" she squealed. "Oh, how marvelous! I mean, Professor Binns is--well, he's, um, very dead," she finished lamely.

Rain laughed. "Just as dead as when Remus and I were students," she agreed. "But the Headmaster seems finally to have made him understand that."

"Oh," Hermione said. "You were at school with Professor Lupin and Sirius?"

Rain nodded. "Remus was likely my best friend at Hogwarts," she said, glancing at him. She was rewarded with another glowing look.

"Then you must have know...Harry's parents," Hermione said softly.

Rain took a breath and then nodded again. "Yes. Though I was a Ravenclaw and a year behind them--Remus and I met in the library, and he introduced me to the rest of them."

Hermione smiled at her, brown eyes lighting in recognition of a kindred spirit.
Rain suddenly found herself looking forward to teaching the fifth years. "Professor Lupin," Hermione said, turning back to him, "what have you been doing for the past year?"

"Oh, this and that," he said with a vague smile. "Dumbledore had work for me to do. I've kept busy, certainly, and I've only left myself a week to prepare for Hogwarts."

"You're coming back?" Hermione clasped her hands together in frank gladness. "Oh, Professor, how wonderful! And very nice for Harry, too...I think it's been a bad summer for him. And he listens to you."

"I'm flattered." Remus gave Rain an amused look. "And have you heard from Harry and Ron this summer?"

Hermione blushed. "Well, of course," she said, her voice a tiny bit higher. "Harry owls me a few times a month, and Ron--well, about every week." Her blushed deepened. "Harry was supposed to be visiting Ron right now; I thought they were going to meet me here today."

"I had an owl from Sirius today that seemed to imply they might be delayed a bit," Remus said, flickering a glance at Rain.

"Ron, too?"

"I'm afraid I don't know."

"Oh." Her shoulders slumped, and Rain bit back a grin. It was obvious which of the two she fancied.

"Well, we'll leave you to your school shopping, Hermione," Remus said. "We've business to attend to, I'm afraid. I expect if you check your letter, you'll see that you'll be needing a copy of Hogwarts: A History this year."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Oh, Professor Rain, you're wonderful!" she exclaimed, and raced off to Flourish and Blotts as the two teachers laughed.

"Wonderful indeed," Remus murmured, holding her gaze. She felt her face heat.

"Quality Quidditch Supplies," he announced after a moment, breaking the tension with his cheerful tone. As he led the way across the street, Rain noticed that he held the book Werewolves and the Humans Who Love Them very close.

~*~

Remus was still thinking about Rain's choice of reading material as they prepared to go to Hunter's Combe that night. Why had she purchased that particular book? Could it mean what he wished it did? She had definitely wanted to keep it from him--was she afraid to tell him she cared for him, or did she just want to keep it from him because she didn't care for him? He had been feeling strangely vulnerable to her since that morning. They had had a delightfully irresponsible lunch of sundaes at Florean Fortescue's, and had spent the afternoon browsing along Diagon Alley. Rain had disappeared into Madam Malkin's for a while as Remus stocked up on herbs, and she had returned with a good-sized package.

She wasn't wearing one of the new robes when she met him downstairs at the Leaky Cauldron for dinner, however. Like him, she was dressed in black Muggle clothes; black, he thought, brought out the brighter red highlights of her auburn hair. They ate their meal in silence, alternating embarrassed glances. He would glance at her to find her eyes on him, and she looked away. Then as he memorized the expression and lines of her face, she would look up and catch him. He was relieved when she drained her butterbeer and stood up.

"Ready?" she asked, smiling at him. "I believe we can take the bus."

"Ready," he repeated with a tiny smile.

They left the Leaky Cauldron and ventured out into Muggle London to catch their bus. Once they were properly settled on the crowded vehicle, Remus found himself biting his tongue to avoid talking about the book.

Of course he couldn't. Perhaps she hadn't looked at it closely enough to realize it was meant for lovers, rather than friends or family. Perhaps she was simply curious. Really it would probably make her embarrassed or angry if he brought it up. He had never felt this uncertain about anything in his life. He sighed.

"What's wrong?" she asked, leaning her head back to look at his face. Her eyes, he thought, were exactly moss-coloured at that instant. He smiled involuntarily at her.

"Just thinking," he replied.

She smiled impishly back at him. "Fancy that. About what?"

How should he answer that question? Should he just say, "About you," and have out with it? He resisted the urge to sigh again. "Mmm. The history of magic. Why did Binns step down? Dumbledore opened the position for you on purpose, didn't he?"

She tilted her head to one side and shrugged. "I'm not certain. I believe he did--Minerva's letter seemed to imply that was the case--but he didn't say. I had rather hoped you would know."

He shook his head. "Hmm." Drat, what to say next... He glanced out the window at the darkening streets. They were nearing the outskirts of London now, and the sun was setting. The silence between them grew comfortably, and he allowed it to remain unbroken. When he turned to look at her again, her eyes were nearly closed.

"Bit sleepy, are we?" he teased, in a soft voice.

She smiled and scooted down in her seat. "Mm. Public transport does this to me. D'you know, I fell asleep on the train to Hogwarts just a few days ago."

"I see, so I should feel honoured that you stayed awake for me yesterday."

She nodded. "It's a habit formed early. Esme was at Hogwarts for years ahead of me, you know, and I just longed to go with her. When I was finally old enough, I was so excited that I couldn't sleep a wink the night before the train. Of course once I was on the Express, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep."

"Is that what happened?" They had only shared a compartment on the Hogwarts Express twice before, and he had noticed on that last train of his school career, that she had slept. In fact, she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Half an hour later, Sirius had come in and woken her by jumping on Remus. None of the Marauders had forgotten the way Remus had attacked Sirius for disappointing Rain. Unfortunately, they had also not forgotten that he said he loved her. Remus sighed again, remembering how mercilessly they had teased him about it. How on Earth could Sirius have forgotten about it now? He felt a pang of sorrow and looked down at Rain.

She had indeed fallen asleep. Her cheek rested against the seat, and her auburn curls brushed her face. Her mouth was slightly open, curled into a tiny smile. His heart thumped painfully. She was happy. He had to content himself with that.

She had spoken of Esme. He wondered if that still hurt her, or if she had healed over the past fifteen years. Esme McGonagall had been five years older than Rain--four years above Remus--Rain's beautiful, smart, adored elder sister. Prefect and Head Girl in her day, she had truly been a rising star. She had been killed by Death Eaters during summer term of Rain's seventh year at Hogwarts. Remus had been with Rain the night she got the news; he had returned to Hogwarts as her escort for the Leaver's Ball.

Rain was stunning in dress robes of a shimmery green, her eyes dancing merrily as she looked at him, blissfully unaware that they were about to be horribly interrupted. Remus had, after merciless plaguing from Sirius, finally resolved that he would ask to see her as more than a friend. He had taken her out on a small garden terrace, far from the quivering rosebushes full of snogging couples. The starry dusk was falling around them, and Remus had worked up the courage to take her hand.

Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall had appeared suddenly, the former very grave, the latter pale. Dumbledore stepped forward. "Ah--Rain and Remus,' he said, his voice heavy and lacking the usual hint of amusement. "We have been searching for you. Miss McGonagall's friend Miss Silverthorne was kind enough to smother her giggles long enough to point us here."

Remus' heart had sped with fear as soon as the headmaster spoke, and his fingers tightened around Rain's. They weren't just here to chastise Remus for sneaking into school for the dance. Even Dumbledore's attempt at gentleness was flat.

"What's wrong, Headmaster?" he asked quickly. "James and Sirius--"

"Are in no immediate danger, it is to be hoped," Dumbledore interrupted. "They are, however, working." He paused, and Professor McGonagall choked. Remus realized she was crying. Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder. "Remus, perhaps you would--"

"No!" Rain spoke for the first time, and her voice, though frightened, was firm. "Headmaster, whatever you have to say, Remus can hear."

Dumbledore nodded, his expression clearing. "Very well. I hate to tell you this, especially on such a lovely night as tonight. Rain--" His voice was extremely gentle. "Rain, your sister Esme has been killed."

A small moan escaped Rain's lips, she went very white. Swaying slightly on her feet, she gripped Remus' hand with an intensity that made his bones creak.

After a very long time she said, "What?" Remus put his arm around her shoulders.

"She died attempting to defend two of her fellow Aurors. One of them, Frank Longbottom, escaped and brought us the news. The other..." He looked down. "Your clan has requested that we release you early with your papers." He glanced at Minerva, who was white-lipped and shaking. "I have agreed."

Rain was shaking her head. "I--I can't...I..."

Remus supported her when she swayed, trying to imagine what Dumbledore meant. Then Professor McGonagall went to her knees and pressed her lips against Rain's hand, and he twigged: Rain--no, Katraina, he corrected himself, not Rain ever again--Katraina McGonagall, daughter of the late Lord Fergus and Lady Mary McGonagall...and with the death of her sister, The McGonagall of Clan McGonagall, Lady of Heatherhall.

He wondered if he should release his hold on her, then quickly realized that if he did so she would fall. He tightened his arm around her. "Oh, Rainy Day," he whispered, without meaning to, and the look she gave him, so hotly grateful despite her grief, made his hopeless--doubly hopeless, for a lady and a werewolf--love flare for her anew.

They went up to Dumbledore's office then, as the headmaster prepared her papers and sent messages to the Ministry and Rain's aunts and uncles. Rain clung to Remus' hand and stared at the floor, and Remus thought anxiously of James and Sirius, who also worked for the Ministry and were probably even now trying to find Esme's killers. He tried to swallow his bitterness about the Ministry's no-hire policy concerning werewolves. The work Dumbledore had given him was important; someone had to keep the members of the resistance in communion, and someone certainly needed to keep a subtle eye on Severus Snape.

When Dumbledore looked up from his papers, Rain flinched. The great wizard's eyes were kind as he looked first at Remus, then at Rain. "I am afraid there are great hardships in store for you both," he said in a quiet voice. "Voldemort is gaining strength. Our fight against him is only beginning. And now you, Rain, have immense responsibilities and duties thrust upon you at a young age. I am pleased to see you drawing strength from one another in such a difficult time. Love is our strongest weapon against Voldemort. Never forget that. Rain, I should like it very much if you would correspond with me. And Remus, you and I will speak in a few days. For now, I believe, the train is waiting."

Remus took that to mean he was to escort Rain to her family at Heatherhall; and indeed he thought it best that the new Lady have a protector. Her trunk had been packed by a house elf, and a horseless carriage bore them to Hogsmeade Station. Rain sat so still and pale that Remus found himself watching her chest rise and fall, to be certain she was still breathing. Finally, on the train, after an hour and a half of chilling silence, Rain's eyes closed and she slept for a short time. When she awoke her eyes seemed haunted, and he wondered what she had dreamed.

He stayed with her for the funeral, where Lily and James Potter and Sirius joined them. They offered to find him a broom so he could fly back with them, but Rain had looked at him with such a frightened expression that he said he meant to stay on awhile yet, if the lady didn't mind. The lady stepped over to him and kissed his cheek, prompting Sirius to offer to stay if she'd give him a like reward. Rain had given him a sad smile that broke Remus' heart.

But the day eventually came when Remus had to leave or announce his official intent to court the lady. He knew he couldn't do that--could never do that, now--and still living tore his heart. It was difficult to convince Rain he must leave, but in the end she had accepted with as much grace as she could muster.

Before he left , he ordered from Platt and Orr a delicate platinum bracelet, on which he placed the strongest protection spells he knew, as well as a sort of locating spell.

"If you ever need me," he said, not meeting Rain's eyes as he fastened it around her wrist, "just send this to me with an owl. I swear, no matter what, I'll come to you."

She admired the bracelet a moment, then turned the admiration on him. "Thank you, from the deepest place in my heart. I can't say--" She broke off and hugged him fiercely. "At least I'll host Christmas here. But come and visit before then."

"I will," he agreed. "We all will."

"I meant just you," she said, the faintest glimmerings of a smile on her face.

"Oh." Remus took a deep breath, and before his courage failed him utterly, he kissed her--just a quick, simple kiss that still left him breathless. When he stepped back she was staring at him in a starry-eyed sort of way, and even as he Apparated he had begun to wonder how soon he would be able to come back.

"Remus! Remus!"

He shook himself and discovered he was still watching Rain sleep. Only, she wasn't sleeping anymore. Her green eyes were quizzical, her mouth quirked up in a tiny smile.

"I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes! Were you dreaming with your eyes open or something?"

He smiled wryly. "You might say that. Ah, remembering, actually."

She tilted her head to one side. "And must I torture you until you tell me what?"

He took a deep breath. "Oh--us, actually. Remembering how we were, before."
It was gratifying to see the blush creeping into her porcelain cheeks. What did that mean? he wondered, intrigued.

She turned her face away. "You must miss them so much."

"No more than you do," he protested, thinking of Sirius.

"No, I don't miss them the way you would. They were all your friends, much more than they were mine. I was just little tagalong Rain, after all," she said, with a laugh that sounded self-conscious. "I do miss Lily a great deal, of course. But really I suppose she meant more to me than I did to her."

"She thought very highly of you, Rain," he protested.

"Yes, but she had James...and then Harry."

Remus drew in a breath to ask whether Rain had missed Sirius, but suddenly the bus jerked and began to slow.

"Hunterscombe Lane," announced the bus driver.

Rain sighed and stood up, stretching. Remus held his breath at the way it pulled her shirt, and quickly turned to grab his briefcase. Following her out, he noticed the bus driver's appreciative gaze on her, and felt a brief surge of pride that he was being seen with her. As he stepped off the bus, his foot caught on something and he lost his balance. You're such a prat! he thought at himself, as he began to fall.

Rain squeaked and he felt her grab his wrist tightly, managing to keep him on his feet. He looked down automatically and stared at the McGonagall crest on her forefinger, and the bracelet on her wrist. "Rain," he asked as he regained his balance and they walked away from the bus, "is that silver?"

She looked down and, apparently realizing she still held his wrist, let him go. "Of course not," she said briskly, and he reflected that she rarely sounded so much like her cousin. "I haven't worn silver for twenty years. It's platinum, and I should think you would recognize it, Mr. Moony, as you were the one who gave it to me."

She stalked away, leaving Remus to stare after her.

These Deep Solitudes-by Carfiniel

Title: These Deep Solitudes--Chapters 1
Author name: Carfiniel
Author email: carfiniel@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13

Summary: During Harry's fifth year, Minerva McGonagall's cousin Rain comes to Hogwarts to be the History of Magic professor. Rain, a Ravenclaw, was a year behind the Marauders, and had romantic entanglements with both Sirius and Remus. She was also the only one of James' friends to befriend Snape. With Remus back as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and Snape being snarky and courageous, Rain has some difficult issues to sort out...and someone is trying to kill her...

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This title is taken from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem "Woods in Winter" and will gain significance later on in the fic...
The PG-13 is a guess, only because there will be violence later on.

Author notes: Thanks very much to Dena and Brook for reading and encouraging, and to Saff for being an excellent Brit-picker and beta-reader! Saff has been kind enough to explain there is a possibility of having a Leavers Ball, though Brits don't graduate the way Americans do, and I have exploited that possibility.

Chapter One - Return to Hogwarts

Katraina McGonagall strode briskly into the entry hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her steps, quick and sure, belied the jangling in her nerves. Hogwarts, after all this time, had changed very little, and the world outside was becoming as grim as it had been in her school days. It was as if the past fourteen years had never happened. Almost as if.

"We need a new History of Magic professor," her cousin Minerva had written, "and I'd like to have you close." Nothing held Rain back from accepting the position; several of her friends had already been recruited for the Phoenix Order--what a shock it had been to see Sirius Black again--and her books could be written at Hogwarts just as easily as they could at Heatherhall.

She climbed the stairs that led towards Minerva's office near Gryffindor Tower. She had been glad to see Sirius, but he only reminded her of how things had been, long ago, before Godric's Hollow. She had had to bite her tongue to refrain from asking about Remus, but Sirius had always been able to read her.

"I would have sent Moony, but Dumbledore's sent him on some sort of mission. I haven't heard from him much this summer."

Rain hugged Sirius and offered him tea, but the delivery of the letter was done, and he had other people to summon. A black dog left her yard a moment later.

"Umph!" Lost in her memories, Rain had collided with someone.

"Really, Katraina, I would think you'd be a little more careful!"

"Min!" Rain hugged her cousin enthusiastically, and after a moment Minerva hugged her back. When she pulled back, she studied the older woman's face. "You look tired, Min."

"Things have been difficult since the Third Task," Minerva replied. "Come up to my office. Severus has agreed to join us."

Rain nodded and followed silently, keeping her concern over her cousin to herself. When they were at school, the Marauders had hated Severus; but tagalong Ravenclaw Rain, a year younger, had always seen loneliness lurking in the Slytherin's eyes. "I appreciate his help," she said.

Severus stood as they entered, and when his eyes met Rain's he drew in an audible breath. For a minute he stood frozen, wide-eyed, then he swept her a deep bow, startling her.

"Lady McGonagall, you honour us," he murmured, his acerbic tone marred by slight breathlessness.

Rain snorted. "Drop it, Severus," she suggested. "You're looking well."

"For someone who's been leading a double life?" he retorted, pure acid now.

Rain lifted an eyebrow. "I wasn't going to say that." But it was true. He was thinner, his face more sallow than in his youth. There were shadows under his eyes. If he had only had someone to make him take care of himself-- "Did Minerva tell you?"

"About your...condition?" He nodded. "There are several potions that will keep it in check. They aren't entirely safe, however. I don't like to mix some of these ingredients. If it were anyone else--" He broke off and pressed his lips together, which made him look as if he'd eaten an underripe lemon.

She put a hand on his wrist. "I understand. Thank you, Severus."

He stared down at her hand, but she refused to remove it. She was aware of the lack of a wedding ring on her third finger, as she was also aware of the McGonagall seal on her forefinger. Let him think what he wanted.

Minerva looked at her sharply. "If you'll excuse us, Severus." It wasn't a question. The Slytherin nodded curtly. Rain dropped her hand as he swept out of the office. "I have errands to run in Hogsmeade. I'll show you your rooms before I go. I assume Hagrid brought up your trunk?"

Rain grinned. "Yes, both of them, and my broom."

"They'll be waiting for you, then. Come along, Katraina. I'd like to have you settled in before I leave. I have errands to run in Hogsmeade."

"Yes, you said that," Rain said, amused. "Min, what are you not telling me? You know I can read you."

Minerva sighed. "Better than anyone, I think. Rain, there are--certain conditions here." She led the way out of her office and down a narrow staircase. "I don't know how much I should tell you, and how much I should leave to Albus. I--I find I'm not quite comfortable--" She broke off and opened a door, beckoning Rain in behind her. "Here is your office. Through the far door is your bedroom and a small private bath. Yes, Hagrid has brought your trunks. I really must go, Rain. I'll see you at dinner."

And quick as a whirlwind, Minerva was gone. Rain gazed at the empty doorway speculatively, but whatever had Min as jumpy as a cat in the kennels would have to wait, at least until dinner. She stared about her in happy bemusement. It had been years since she'd been a student here, and now Hogwarts was hers again. She looked again at the open door, where the brass nameplate waited blankly to announce her presence. She pulled out her wand and rested the tip lightly against the brass. Tracing her name over it, she whispered, "Engravium," and smiled when her name flowed across in sparkling blue script.

Turning from the door, Rain went past the empty bookshelves and giant rolltop desk, and opened the bedroom door. When she saw her room, she laughed with delight. On the wall opposite the huge curtained four-poster--blue and silver curtains, she noticed--was a large bay window with a deeply cushioned window seat.

"It really is you."

It was a man's voice, soft and slightly hoarse, a voice she would know anywhere, a voice from her past. She closed her eyes briefly, took a deep breath, and turned.

"Remus." She drank him with her eyes, tracing his jaw, picking out grey hairs among the longish brown, noticing the fine lines on his face. She noted the slumped shoulders and patched clothing. Then she met his eyes and saw the wary joy that brimmed up in them. She smiled widely at him. "Remus," she said again.

He took another step and she went to him, reaching to clasp both his hands. He smiled down at her, and she wondered if he was as at a loss for words as she. He lifted one hand and touched her face with two tentative fingers.

"Rainy Day," he murmured, and she was seized by an almost overwhelming desire to throw herself into his arms. One of the last times he had called her that was at James and Lily's funeral, when he held her as they mourned the loss of their three friends and tried to encompass the supposed betrayal of another.

"Moony," she whispered with a hint of mischief creeping into her smile.

"Great heavens, it's good to see you, Rain." He sounded thunderstruck.

Her smile escaped from her and she beamed at him. "I have missed you terribly," she said, fighting back the tears that threatened. But why did you stay away so long? she wanted to add.

His expression became more solemn. "Have you?"

She nodded, and his fingers tightened around hers. "I'm glad you're here."

Her owl, Arcanus, swept in through the open window and landed on Rain's shoulder. Remus offered a finger to stroke his head, and the owl nipped it swiftly. "Arcanus!" she exclaimed, "Stop that! I'm sorry, Remus. He's dreadfully cranky in this weather." She sighed. "Oh, who am I kidding, he's dreadfully cranky all the time."

Remus laughed. "You should feed him better."

"Mm. This letter's for you," she said, surprised. And there was no mistaking the hand: the bold, untidy scrawl of Sirius in haste.

Remus opened it, and a moment later chuckled. "The man needs to work on his timing--Padfoot writes me to tell me he's sent you here."

"Still taking care of his friends," Rain sighed. "I wish I hadn't doubted him."

"It looked bad for him," Remus replied. "Though I've reprimanded myself for it often enough. If we could only make the Ministry see reason..." The hand holding Sirius' letter clenched into a fist briefly, then relaxed. "I'm sorry, Rain. I'm sure you want to unpack. May I come by and see you to dinner?"

He had withdrawn again, into the protective fortress that was his heart. Rain's shoulders slumped. "Yes, yes. Please do." She managed to smile at him, but after he left, the room seemed quite grey.

~ * ~

She had her books all sorted out before sunset, and took the time to wash and redo her hair, pinned up off her neck. It felt strange to be back in Hogwarts, yet somehow it was freeing, as well. She performed a few small cosmetic charms, hands shaking, while she waited for Remus to return. When the door announced, "A handsome gentleman to see you, dear," however, it was not Remus who stood in the hall.

"You make me blush, Miss McGonagall."

"Headmaster," she said, her heart lifting.

He smiled kindly at her. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Rain. I am very glad indeed that you accepted my invitation. I have already seen a smile on Remus Lupin's face. It has been missing for many months."

"Now you're making me blush," she replied frankly.

To her astonishment Dumbledore laughed loud and long. "A breath of fresh air," he proclaimed, eyes dancing. "And yet, I am afraid even that may prove sorrowful to some."

"Headmaster?"

"I would ask you, Rain, to be very careful with young Severus. These times have been a strain on him."

Rain's mouth fell open. He was concerned about Snape? But why tell her this? "I--I'm afraid I don't understand, sir."

"Don't you? Very well. Perhaps I am mistaken. But I am certain I caught him being gallant this afternoon. He and the remaining Marauders have forged a very unhappy alliance. It is necessary if we are to defeat Voldemort, Rain."

"Are you saying I could upset it?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I remember your time here as a student, Rain. A singular child, though perhaps it is simply the traits of the McGonagall clan. You were the only one of James Potter's friends to be kind to Severus Snape in all his time here. Be assured that he has not forgotten either. And I distinctly remember a starry-eyed young Remus Lupin watching you watch Sirius Black."

She really was blushing. She put one hand up to her face. "Are all students so transparent?" she asked dryly.

He smiled. "Most are, I'm afraid. But I admit we watched you rather closely, as a friend of the Marauders."

"Sir, I won't--" She took a deep breath. "I won't deny that I--that is--I'm glad Remus is here. I didn't realize what I--what was--er, until it was too late. After we lost Lily, James, Sirius, and Peter, all at once, Remus disappeared. Perhaps he was trying to draw the danger away from me, I don't know. But it hurt a great deal, losing him, too."

"Believe me when I say I am certain that it hurt him, as well," Dumbledore said softly. "And now, I think..."

"Another handsome gentleman!" the door exclaimed. "My, you are the popular one today, dearie." And it swung open to reveal a surprised Remus.

"Ah, good evening, Remus," Dumbledore said, smiling. "I believe it must be dinnertime."

"Will you join us, Headmaster?" Remus asked.

"No, no, I have Cornelius Fudge coming to see me," he replied. "Another round on the Voldemort issue, I'm afraid." He bowed and headed down the hall.

"You look lovely," Remus murmured, and Rain blushed again.

"Thank you," she said. She wanted to tell him how wonderful he looked, too, but she was seized by a sudden shyness.

She had only felt shy around him once before, when Sirius took Kitty Bliss to his Leavers Ball. Sirius had already asked Rain when Kitty became available, and Rain found herself discarded. The marvelous dream that he would finally love her had fizzled into embarrassment and hurt. She hadn't even been angry at him, silly git that she'd been. It had been Remus who got angry for her. Remus, who was always so carefully controlled, the voice of reason among the Marauders, wise beyond his age. Remus, whom she had only once seen angry, when Sirius nearly got Snape killed. Remus' anger was a frightening thing to witness. And after seeing it roused to her own defense, Rain had felt shy with him.

"You're a million miles away," Remus said in amusement. "You just tried to walk into a suit of armour."

"Did I?" Rain smiled. "No, just twenty years."

"Yes," he said. He wore a faint smile as he looked down the hallway. "I've been there myself today."

~*~

Rain sat between Remus and Minerva at dinner, after being welcomed enthusiastically by her former professors. Sybil Trelawney deigned to join them, and gasped when she took Rain's hand. "My dear, your hand is as cold as death! A very bad omen...I fear your time with us may be short."

Rain smiled. "You're looking quite well, Professor Trelawney. Did you get new spectacles?"

The divinations professor gave her a misty smile. "Why, yes, dear. How kind of you to notice."

Hagrid enveloped her in a hairy hug. "It's good to see yeh, Rain. Professor Dumbledore's happy yer here--great man, Dumbledore." He glanced around and lowered his voice. "And just wait till yeh see what I got for my Care of Magical Creatures class."

Rain forced a weak smile, wondering how many people would get hurt in his class. Those Blast-Ended Skrewts had looked terrifying in the Daily Prophet photos.

Professor Flitwick complimented her on her door's Butler Charm, and Snape nodded silently at her from the other end. On Remus' left, Madame Hooch made a crack at her about the Cannons, and Professor Sprout looked up from her book on magical herbs long enough to smile warmly at her.

The meal was nearly over when a large owl swooped in and landed in front of Minerva. She opened the letter and gasped. As Rain watched, her cousin turned a shade she had never seen, even on a ghost. She took several deep breaths and turned wide green eyes towards her.

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have vanished!"

The entire table heard her, and instantly all conversation died. Rain put a hand on Minerva's wrist and looked at Remus. He seemed stunned.

"Does the headmaster know?" she asked.

Min shook her head slowly. "He and Fudge are dining at the Three Broomsticks." She gripped Rain's hand very tightly. "He needs to be told. Rain, will you--will you come with me to Hogsmeade?"

Surprised, Rain nodded. In her memory, Minerva had never asked anyone for help. She wondered what the rest of the letter said.

Minerva stood up and fixed her hat firmly on her head. "Poor Albus, he'll be terribly concerned--oh, hurry, Rain!"

It was painful to see Minerva this upset. Rain looked at Remus, who nodded. "I'll talk to you later," he murmured. "I need to send an owl to Padfoot."
Rain followed Minerva down to the Entrance Hall. Her cousin walked so briskly that Rain was out of breath keeping up with her. When they were quite a ways along the road to Hogsmeade, Minerva slowed and put a hand up to cover her face. Rain saw with amazement that she was crying.

"Min," she said hesitantly. She put her hand on her cousin's arm. "Min, is there more? Something worse?"

Minerva choked and said, "Alastor Moody and Bill Weasley were with them. Alastor was found...the Dark Mark...Avada Kedavra."

"And Bill?" Rain asked, thinking back to the very nice redheaded boy a few years behind her at Hogwarts.

"Nowhere. They found--they found his dragon fang earring." Min pulled out a lace handkerchief and wiped her eyes. "That's all."

"Do the Weasleys know?"

"I'm sure they are being informed. Oh, Rain, what a horrible way for the term to begin. Harry is so important--if we lose him--"

"I'm sure we'll find them before school starts," Rain interrupted. She was feeling decidedly more uncomfortable with each passing second. "We have a week, haven't we?" She tried to put confidence in her tone, but she knew she had failed. What would happen to the wizarding world, if the Boy Who Lived was killed?

~*~

Dumbledore took the news much more calmly than Minerva had, and Rain wondered, not for the first time, if this calm acceptance was a product of divination, or just wise foresight. He sat back in his chair and looked somewhat regretful. "So that is your decision, Mr. Malfoy," he murmured.

"Not again!" groaned Cornelius Fudge. Rain fought a desire to scowl at him--she was a teacher now, for goodness sake!--but had a hard time. His denial of Voldemort's return was going to cause a lot of needless suffering. "I hoped, after that regrettable incident with his aunt and the Knight Bus, that he would have learned his lesson about running away. He's been growing more unbalanced with every year. I shall have to send Arthur Weasley out to find him. If Sirius Black gets wind of this--"

"I sincerely hope that no one will get wind of this, Cornelius," Dumbledore interrupted, his voice quiet yet stern. "Now is not the time to create a panic."

Fudge looked at him and snapped his mouth shut. He cleared his throat. "Well, of course, I shall not spread the story, but the press--well, the press is persistent, isn't it? I must be going." He stood up and tried to sweep his pinstriped cloak around his shoulders. "Good evening, Dumbledore. Ladies." He nodded and left.

"What did you mean earlier, Headmaster?" Rain asked. "About Mr. Malfoy? Did you mean Lucius Malfoy?"

Dumbledore folded his hands and gazed up at her, his brow furrowed in thought; even this concern did not diminish the twinkle in his eyes. "Draco Malfoy. You, of course, remember his father. Lucius Malfoy is a known Death Eater."

"And you think Draco has taken that step?" Minerva repeated. "Oh, Albus. I know you hoped to influence him."

Dumbledore smiled faintly. "It is never too late, Minerva. Just look at Severus."

"Severus?" Rain said, more sharply than she had intended. "He--he truly went over?"

"And returned to us, bringing information," Minerva confirmed.

"He has risked himself for us time after time. It is not an enviable task, and it is one I loathe placing him in," Dumbledore added. "But he has saved us all, more than once."

Rain shivered. She had never imagined Severus would truly go to the dark side. He had been nasty and ambitious as a student, but she had never imagined him to be evil, just--

"--Misunderstood," Dumbledore finished, obviously pleased with himself. Rain started, realizing she'd missed something.

"I'd have to say Remus is the best choice," Minerva replied. They both looked at Rain, and she wondered why they sought her opinion, and about what.

"If the Dark Arts are involved, I would think the Defense teacher would be best qualified," she hedged.

Minerva stared at her in astonishment, and Dumbledore hid a smile. "We were discussing whether Severus or Remus would better serve as your escort to London," he offered.

"Oh dear." Better to give in now than dig herself deeper. "Why am I going to London?" she asked meekly.

Dumbledore's smile widened. "I thought you'd never ask."

Happy Valentine's Day, Loser

Title: Happy Valentine's Day, Loser

Author: Rockygirl

Rating: PG-13

Summery: Valentine's Day starts out bad for Ginny Weasley. First she has to help her brother and Hermione plan their wedding while in the throes of a dreadful hangover. But when Draco Malfoy shows up, will he make the day worthwhile?

Warning: I had a lot of trouble writing this story. I apologize if the mood seems jumpy and, at times, out of place. At this point I just hope someone likes it! Also. . . the Malfoys are OUT OF CHARACTER! Way, way OOC! (Hey, it's a comedy! Well, it's supposed to be. . . )

Author's Note: I originally wrote this for a fanfic challenge, and people may recognize many of the quotes used (they were required to make entry). I can credit Eddie Izzard for most of them. I tried to keep some things in character, but mostly I just had fun with this one. Or as much fun as I could!

Ginny Weasley carefully threaded her way through Diagon Alley, making for The Leaky Cauldron. She was to meet Ron and Hermione there for breakfast, and to discuss the final plans for their wedding. She actually wasn't in the mood for it, as she had partied a little too vigorously the night before. But she'd promised and, as Hermione had been quick to remind her, a promise was a promise.

"Those are my principles," she'd sniffed a tad huffily as she'd spoken to Ginny from the fireplace, "if you don't like them, I have others!"

So much for family always understanding. Ginny sighed and adjusted her sunglasses, trying not to wince in the bright morning sunshine. As she turned the corner and caught sight of the inn she nearly bumped into a tiny, wizened wizard who was arguing loudly with a tiny, wizened witch.

"Oh really woman, how can you say this one's better? They're the same!" the little man yelled. The wrinkly old woman glared with rheumy eyes at the man. They were standing in front of a street vendor who was selling collapsible cauldrons, and apparently weren't in agreement on which one to get. Ginny, who was trying to move around them since they were blocking the sidewalk, smiled stiffly when the little woman glared towards her.

"What are you doing, girl? Use the street!" she snapped when Ginny's purse bumped her.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but the street is just as crowded. Perhaps you and your gentleman could take your argument elsewhere, then there would be more room."

"How rude!" the little man roared, quite impressive for someone his size, actually, "Why are you Brits so damn rude to us? We spend money here too, you know. . ."

Ginny had continued wriggling past the couple and now walked very quickly away from them. Bloody tourists! And they had the nerve to call everyone else rude when they couldn't even be bothered to allow people to share the sidewalk with them? To top it off, high summer would be here before she knew it and Ginny knew there would be more of them, from all over, making Diagon Alley insufferably crowded.

"Why do they call it tourist season if we can't shoot at them?" she mumbled darkly, finally reaching the Leaky Cauldron's entrance.

Once inside Ginny sighed with relief at the relative darkness. She began to take off her sunglasses, but then spotted Hermione and Ron waving frantically at her from a table that was right next to a window. A very sunny window.

"Blast!" she mumbled through a gritted toothed smile. Waving back, she walked slowly over to minimize the sun's damaging effects on her whole being.

"Good morning!" Hermione smiled happily, "I'm so glad you could make it."

"Did I have a choice?" Ginny smiled, stooping to hug her soon-to-be sister in law.

"Sure you did," Ron laughed, standing to hug Ginny as well, "but then you'd never live it down!"

"Ron!" Hermione glared playfully, then turned back to Ginny as she sat down, "I know this wasn't the best time for you, but we did arrange this. It's not my fault you went out and got yourself plastered last night!"

"I know Herm," Ginny smiled wryly, "but you two aren't the only valentines in the world. I had a hot date! Unfortunately he stood me up. Again."

"What?" Hermione gasped, looking quickly at Ron, whose ears turned two shades of red.

"That bloody arse," he growled, "what was it this time? A 'meeting', or did he come up with something more original?"

"I've no idea. I told off his answering machine from the Pub and broke it off with him. Then I called Blaise and Adrien to see if they were in the mood to celebrate my new found freedom. They were." Ginny replied matter of factly.

"I'm so sorry Ginny," Hermione said softly, grabbing Ginny's hand and squeezing gently.

"This might surprise you, but I'm not." Ginny replied seriously, "I loved Seamus, I really did. But we were still young when we got together. Now we've grown up and found careers and. . . we're not the same people we were. That's not a bad thing, that's life. And sometimes in life you lose things that were once important to you, only you find that they don't mean what they once did."

Ron shook his head, "Well sis, seems like you got over him before you broke up with him."

Ginny nodded and smiled, "Yeah, I guess I did."

Hermione sighed, looking meaningfully at Ron, "I hate this though. I really like to think love is infinite."

"Only two things are infinite," a familiar voice drawled quite suddenly, making them all jump, "the universe and human stupidity. I'm not sure about the former."

Ron scowled and looked up into the smirking face of-

"Draco Malfoy," he said dryly, "What a surprise."

"But a pleasant one," Draco replied with a grin, taking the empty chair across from Ginny without waiting for an invitation. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well what brings you here? Need a new House Elf? I hear they can never wait to piss you off enough to fire them!" she smirked.

"Hermione, such cruel sarcasm from you is just wrong!" Draco mock frowned, throwing his legs out in front of him and leaning back in his chair carelessly, his black robes emphasizing his blond good looks, and the sunlight shining so brightly in his hair it formed a halo. The irony, Ginny thought, looking away quickly. She'd always found Draco to be a sexy bastard, but his ego grated her nerves terribly, and she was sure any sort of relationship with him would end in homicide. Well, there had been that one time. . .

Shut up, she told herself firmly.

"What can we help you with, Malfoy? My fiance and I have a wedding to plan and you're wasting our valuable time," Ron growled.

"It can't be that valuable if you're planning it in The Leaky Cauldron," Draco retorted with a smirk, causing Hermione to glare. That is, until Draco winked at her and grinned impishly, causing her lips to quirk.

"Oh look, Ronnikins has turned that sweet shade of tomato!" he added, "Don't be upset love, it'll make your ears combust."

At this, both Ginny and Hermione burst into giggles.

"You're impossible!" Ginny laughed.

"No," Draco replied, "just highly unlikely."

That made even Ron smile and shake his head, "Bloody hell Malfoy, is there anyone who's ever stayed hacked off at you?"

"No one can," he drawled lazily, "I'm irresistible!"

At this Hermione began to laugh louder, in an exaggerated fashion.

"Irresistible, did you say?" she hooted, "I don't think so, as I found you quite easy to repel!"

Draco screwed up his face. "Only because you used your wand," he sniffed.

"And because my charm and good looks were irrisistable," Ron added smugly.

Ever since the war, when Draco had turned on his Master, Voldemort, things between him and his best enemies had changed dramatically. Well, turned on isn't exactly right. More like he was a spy the entire time and so was his. . .
"There you are, Draco!" Lucius Malfoy strode over to the small table, his face set in a small frown as he looked at his son. Hermione's face lit up, and she jumped to her feet.

"Mr. Malfoy," she cried gladly, hugging him as soon as he was close enough. Lucius's frown turned instantly to a smile.

"Hello, my dear," he said, kissing her cheek and hugging her back. Ron stood and shook the elder Malfoy's hand.

"Good to see you sir," he said with a grin.

"Lucius, call me Lucius, Ron. How many times will I have to tell you that?"
Ron blushed, "Sorry Lucius."

The next moment Ron was shoved aside as Ginny threw her arms around Lucius's neck. "Oh it's so good to see you, how are you and the missus?" she cried, making the older man laugh delightedly.

Yes, Lucius Malfoy, second in command to Voldemort, most powerful of all the Death Eaters, and the cruelest (not to mention the richest), had in fact been a spy the entire time. Only four people had known, and that had been Dumbledore, Snape, Draco, and Lucius's wife, Narcissa. It had been a great shock to everyone, especially the Trio. Draco'd had to grow up knowing everything so he'd understand what evil was, and why his father chose to fight it from the inside. And of course, by being honest with their son from the beginning, they'd avoided that sticky possibility of Draco actually coming to like and choose evil.

But when the time had come Draco had actually been quite pleased not only to drop the "evil git" act, but to shock the Golden Trio. Especially Potter. Oh the pleasure of watching them twist with frustration, not wanting to believe that a Malfoy could be on their side, yet having no choice because Dumbledore had spoken, and they always obeyed and trusted the Headmaster's judgment. Remembering Ron's fury in particular still brought a smile to Draco's face. He might have been good at heart, but Draco truly had found the three of them annoying, to the pleasure of his Potions professor.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," Snape had said with a nasty grin, "it's so good to know that you've perfected the fine art of mental torture. I believe the Wonder Triplets are having aneurysms right now!"

No, he wasn't a golden do gooder, not by any means. A Malfoy by any other name would still be a Malfoy, he thought in amusement. Draco rather enjoyed being an enigmatic arse on the outside, as it afforded him the freedom to laugh at everything. Laughter was something he hadn't been able to indulge much in his early life, and he intended to drown in it now that he was free to be himself.

He looked discreetly at Ginny. Being in "disguise" had cost him plenty already.

Hermione's and the Weasleys affection for the elder Malfoy had blossomed rather quickly after the war when he'd sponsored Ron and Ginny for University educations, and then forwarded Ron's name to the British Professional Quidditch League. Ron's career as a Chaser, first with the Chudley Cannons, and now with Puddlemere United, had all been thanks to Lucius Malfoy, and Hermione had never forgotten that. Neither had Ron, for that matter.

"Thank you, my dear, but I came to collect my son," Lucius was saying, turning back to Draco and frowning again, "He's attempting to escape a shopping trip with his mother and me!"

"Father please," Draco sighed, "I'm old enough to dress myself, you know."

"I know you are, Draco, but this is for your mother's benefit. She likes doing things for you, and you're disappointing her by being childish about this!" Lucius unmercifully poured on the guilt.

Well, he hadn't been an effective Death Eater by just being rich!

"I'm sorry father, I'm just afraid she'll try to shove something hideous on me. Remember that sweater she bought me last year?" Draco arched his eyebrows, and Lucius turned away quickly, obviously trying not to laugh.

"Well, it was cashmere, at least," the elder Malfoy said placatingly, though his lips quirked. Draco made a face.

"Cashmere is fine, but not when it has little hearts embroidered on it!"

"What?" Hermione blurted while Ginny and Ron burst out laughing.

"Ah yes, well..as to that. . . " Lucius groped for something wise to say.

"Were they little red hearts?" Ron chortled, causing Draco to scowl openly.
"They were silver! It was a black sweater, dolt!"

"Poor Draco!" Ginny hooted, her face going almost as red as her hair as a sound that suspiciously resembled a snort issued from Draco's father. When the younger Malfoy turned to scowl at his sire, Lucius raised his hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry, son. But if you'd like you can take this up with your mother, she's waiting for us outside."

Ginny craned her neck towards the door, "Why didn't she come in?"

She's allergic to redheads, Draco wanted to say, but didn't. Actually, this particular redhead was looking rather scrumptious. He eyed Ginny discreetly for a moment, admiring the flaming curls that fell over her shoulders and the sweet dusting of golden freckles across her face. Her slender beauty had always entranced him, but not nearly as much as her sharp wit and flashing eyes. At the moment, though, her wit had sliced him a bit, so he wasn't feeling too generous.

"Oh..well. . . she doesn't like the dusty atmosphere of most Pubs." Lucius seemed to be blushing, which Hermione found rather interesting. Sometimes she still couldn't believe these were the same people who'd insulted her time and again in her childhood.

"Father, can't you argue my case? Tell her I'm sick, or something." Draco pleaded.

"Draco, there are two theories to arguing with women, and neither one works! Now you come with me this minute or—blast!" Lucius had been looking around as he spoke to his son, and suddenly caught sight of his wife.

"Too late, she's come in," he sighed, "I'll just let you explain what happened. . . "
The group looked over and saw the third Malfoy making her way delicately over to them. Narcissa Malfoy was wearing stunning blue robes that complimented her porcelain skin and light blonde hair, which was gathered elegantly atop her head. At the moment, however, she looked less than elegant as she pressed a voluminous sleeve to her face.

"Oh, the dust in this place," she said faintly as the group stood to welcome her, "how do you children stand it? Hello my dear." she said as she pressed a kiss first to Hermione's cheek, then Ginny's, then hugging Ron (who happened to be her favorite of her son's friends) tightly. Ron insisted she take his seat, and she sat gratefully before turning a disapproving glare on her progeny.

"Draco, what is this nonsense? Your father and I were speaking to you, and what do you think happened?"

"Let me guess," Draco replied flatly.

"We turned around and found you gone, that's what happened!" Narcissa berated him in her soft but crisp voice, "Imagine how I felt when I realized I'd been talking to myself all that time!"

"Mother," Draco began patiently, but was cut off with a sweeping gesture from her.

"No excuses, Draco! I'll not have you acting in this manner to me!" Narcissa glowered dramatically.

Well, she is a very rich woman, which entitles her to Official Membership in The Snobby Rich Wives Club.

Draco sighed imperceptibly and turned earnestly to his mother, "All right mum, I apologize for running off. I was just thinking. . . well, never mind. Where would you like to go?"

Ginny was almost beside herself trying to repress her laughter. She absolutely loved the Malfoys! They were the funniest family she knew, even more so than the quirky Weasley clan and that was definitely saying something. Narcissa pursed her finely painted pink lips and narrowed her eyes at her progeny.

"Oh, never mind boy," she sighed, "I know you don't want to, and that rather takes the fun out of it! Let's go home Lucius."

"Oh no, don't leave!" Hermione protested, shooting a glare at Draco.

But Narcissa laughed, "Don't be angry at my son, my dear, as he's actually done me a favor. I am feeling rather tired at the moment. Some rest will do me good. Or perhaps some lunch."

"An egg salad perhaps, my dearest?" Lucius asked warmly, "You've been quite mad for them recently."

Draco looked over at his friends with an amused twinkle in his eye, "Mum's gone vegetarian. She's picked up a love of small animals."

Narcissa once again threw her son a nasty look. "I'm not a vegetarian because I love animals, Draco," she sniffed, "I'm a vegetarian because I hate plants!"

That sent up more laughter as the group took their leave of the elder Malfoys.

"I recommend a visit to Florean Fortiscue's to brighten your day, love." Narcissa said to Ginny as they hugged, "I notice you look quite pale, but there's no problem a bit of sweet ice cream can't solve, or so I've found."

Ginny laughed, "Ice cream is exquisite, what a pity it isn't illegal!"

"I've thought that myself a time or two," Narcissa agreed with a wicked smile.

After hugging Ron and Hermione, the elder Malfoys made their way out, Narcissa complaining of the dust the whole way.

After their departure, Draco turned to the group with a wide smile, "So, what shall we do? Plan on flowers, or order several dozen tackily embroidered napkins? I'm open to suggestions."

"Not with that attitude," Hermione snapped.

"Hermione, please," Draco smiled silkily, "I'm only trying to help. Calculating the amount of wedding things that will be needed is something I'm a bit new at, though. But there's no need to worry."

"Worry about what?" a new voice asked. A voice which made Draco's expression twist as if he'd just taken a bite out of a lemon.

"Harry!" Hermione leaped from her chair and ran to hug Harry Potter. Another round of hugs ensued, and Draco was beginning to think that maybe February should be outlawed.

When they were all seated, and had ordered a round of drinks, Draco turned to Harry and asked;

"So, how are things at the Ministry? Fairly quiet with no more bad men to kill, I'd wager. But I'm sure it can't be all fun and games."

Harry laughed with Draco, but didn't miss his old rival's sarcasm, "It's all fun and games till someone loses an eye. Then it's just a game. Find the eye."

"Ha ha," Draco smirked, "Planning on being at the Zambini's Ball?"

"Yes," Harry replied with a smile, "Sara can't wait to go."

"How is she?" Ginny asked warmly, remembering the pretty, blonde Muggle girl Harry had introduced her to when she'd last run into them.

"Yes, and does this mean you've told her?" Ron asked eagerly. He and Hermione had yet to meet Sara, but they'd been hearing a lot about her and were wondering if Harry would ever get around to introducing her to his life.

"Well, I've told her some, and she's had a hard time believing me. She thought I was using drugs to make her hallucinate when I showed her how I can transfigure things, can you believe it?" Harry laughed.

"Why not just hex her? That'll prove a lot." Draco smiled innocently, causing Harry to make a face.

"Nice idea, Malfoy, and so typically you. Rude and forceful." Ginny glared.

"Why thank you dear, though I assure you flattery will get you no where." not strictly true, but no need for her to know that. Ginny snorted with disgust.

"Oh, I don't know," she replied nastily, "I hear it can get quite a bit out of you. All a girl has to do is say you're magnificent without laughing too hard."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Women, can't live with them, can't bury them in the backyard without the neighbors seeing."

"Enough of this," Hermione glared as well, causing Draco to relent despite the fact that Harry and Ron looked ready to burst into giggles. Normally, this was a challenge Draco couldn't resist; seeing how fast he could completely break them. Of course, it usually got them into trouble with the ladies.

"Who are you taking to the Zambini's Ball, Draco," Ron asked curiously.

The Zambinis held a Valentine's Ball every February, and for the reader's info, all present had been invited.

"Oh, I don't know," Draco shrugged his sleek shoulders, "I don't have a valentine to speak of, really."

"No, he doesn't have a valentine," Ginny snorted, "He has about forty or so. It must be terrible trying to decide who you're going to shag on any night of the week."

"Hmm," Draco smirked, "she had lost the art of conversation, but not, unfortunately, the power of speech."

"You two are like a pair of ducks, do you know that?" Harry grinned, "Quack, quack, quack!"

"Speaking of losing the power of speech," Ginny scowled at Harry.

The waitress arrived the next moment with their drinks, and Ginny stared at Draco's steaming cup. They were the only two that had ordered coffee, which probably meant they were the only two who had hangovers.

"Which did you get? I got the Double Chocolate Latte." She asked.

"Cinnamon Cappuccino," he replied, blowing on it.

Ginny took a cautious sip of hers, and nearly scalded her tongue. Turning to Harry, she took a spoon and stole an ice cube from his glass the moment he set it down, plopping it in her Latte.

"You probably need some ice for yours too," she said to Draco.

"No," he replied with a grin, "I like my coffee like I like my women."

"Hot?" Hermione's lips twisted.

"In a plastic cup," he winked, causing Ron and Harry to cover their mouths and try not to guffaw. Almost, Draco thought in amusement, until he saw the ladies glaring. They all three went quiet.

"All right," Draco said after a moment, "you're planning a wedding. What have you got so far?"

Ron took out a list and shot Draco a look, "Don't feel obligated to stick around."

"He wouldn't miss it for the world," Harry said flatly before Draco could respond.

"Goodness, am I getting predictable?" Draco asked worriedly.

"Yes," all four replied in unison.

Draco frowned, "That's bad!"

An hour later, after Draco had listened with amusement as they'd argued over fresh flowers versus plastic (cheaper), and the color of the bridesmaids dresses (lilac), and whether or not the reception hall could fit the entire Weasley clan (all husbands with spouses and accompanying children), their list was complete, and Ron's ears were only slightly red. Draco figured now was a good time. . .

"I think this is for the two of you," Draco said in obvious mock astonishment as he pulled an envelope out of an inner pocket of his robes.

"What's this," Ron asked suspiciously, taking the envelope and examining it. Draco smiled and arched his eyebrows at Ginny. She narrowed her eyes, but couldn't help the smile that came to her face. Draco could be a bastard, yes, but. . .

"Oh my god," Ron exclaimed, "two tickets. . . to the French Riviera!"

Hermione turned to Draco with wide eyes, Harry's jaw dropped, and Ginny's smile grew tenfold.

"Happy Honeymooning," Draco smiled serenely as he rose, "The Riviera is bloody romantic, and I thought you might like to see it whilst sealing your vows."

With a small and impish wave, he turned to go, but didn't get far before he was engulfed in hugs and thanks. Ron reached him first and lifted Draco off of his feet.

"You great fiend, why didn't you say something?" Ron yelled happily, hugging him hard.

"This is the most wonderful. . . .thank you Draco!" Hermione wept, hugging him as soon as her fiance released him. Ginny claimed him next, saying nothing, just holding him close and feeling that all the rotten thoughts she'd ever had about him were completely unjustified. Draco grinned at them all, blushing as Ginny continued to hold him tightly. Harry shook his hand with a smile, shaking his head.

"Does this mean you're happy too?" Draco asked in what he hoped was an amused voice.

"Yes," she replied, releasing him and looking up at him with a smile, "thank you, Draco."

Draco turned away from her strong, steady gaze. "It wasn't anything, really." He mumbled.

"It was something that made them happy, and so I thank you." Ginny repeated.

"We have to go," Hermione suddenly said urgently, looking at her watch, "Ron, we're due at the church in ten minutes!"

"Bloody hell," Ron scowled, "First this, then that! See everyone tomorrow at mum's!"

Moments later they Disapperated with a soft pop.

"That reminds me, I have to meet Sara for brunch," Harry frowned at his watch as well, "I'll see you two later." And then he, too, was gone.

"Well, please and thank you!" Ginny said a tad huffily. Draco laughed.

"I'm sure it's nothing personal," he soothed, "they're all trying to balance things, and Harry dating a Muggle complicates his life a bit more than usual."

"I know that," she glared, "but shouldn't they have to suffer too for yanking me out of bed after a night of binge drinking?"

Draco laughed, "I think dashing off here and there is definitely a good revenge to wish for. On your brother, in any case."

Ginny smiled up at him, then grew a bit serious, "Well, I just wish. . . I miss just hanging around together, all of us."

"Breaking up has that effect, I've found," Draco said softly, looking at Ginny's face. She had always been beautiful, but there was a sadness in her eyes that somehow increased her appeal at that moment.

Ginny looked at him, then away as she sat down again, "I've broken up with him before, but somehow. . . I don't know. I wanted so much to have faith in our relationship. And I knew from the first time that it was no good, we had already started growing apart."

"Alright," he said awkwardly, sitting on the table and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, "so you chose to have faith. That's good, isn't it?"

"I think it would have been better if I'd learned from my mistakes." she replied gloomily.

"Ah yes, experience," Draco smiled lazily, "that marvelous thing that allows you to recognize a mistake when you make it again." he shook his head, "Look at it this way, you could have done nothing at all."

"The trouble with doing nothing is you never know when you're finished, or so I've heard," she looked at him, smiling slightly as she quoted one of his favorite sayings.

"True," he replied, "so we already know you're a smart girl for calling up Blaise and Adrian, and getting pickled out of your gourd."

"Don't remind me," she giggled, touching her forehead, "I'm still suffering sensitivity to light, and my headache isn't completely gone."

"Ah, but the lessons we learn are all too useful for future reference." Draco grinned.

"Or did you mean ‘experience is that marvelous thing that allows you to recognize a mistake when you make it again'?" she asked, finally laughing.

"I think that should be my new motto," he cocked his head, pretending to consider that, which made Ginny laugh harder. He liked it when Ginny laughed.

"Want to go for a walk?" Draco asked suddenly, making Ginny start.

"Oh, certainly. I'd love to," she replied, trying not to blush.

Remember, egotistical, self absorbed arse head! she told herself firmly as she gathered her purse and sunglasses. They quickly walked into the bright sunshine and bustle of Diagon Alley.

"So, who do you have in mind for the Zambini's ball?" Ginny asked with a knowing smile, just to get a conversation started.

Draco laughed heartily, "Is it so difficult to believe me when I say no one? I can't think of anyone I'd like to take, and I'm actually thinking of skipping it this year."

"What?" Ginny gasped, throwing her hand out dramatically, "England's most eligible bachelor skip one of the biggest events on the Single's scene? Oh, the horror! I can hear hearts breaking all over London's High Society!"

"Give it a rest, Weasley," he tried to frown, but Ginny's wide, teasing smile made him want to grin like an idiot. How long had he felt this way?
How long was he going to continue to ignore it?

"Oh look," Ginny stopped in front of Madam Malkins. The front window included a small display of infant clothing, including tiny robes in pink, green, and blue, blankets, and shoes. Ginny smiled warmly, leaning close to get a better look at a pink blanket embroidered with little ducks.

"There are some days when I can't wait to have children." She sighed.

Draco smirked at her back. "I like children," then added in an undertone, "fried!" Ginny shot up and smacked his arm.

"Beast!" she was caught between outrage and laughter, which gave her eyes an intense sparkle. Draco felt as if he were falling into them, and looked quickly away as his heart pounded.

"Peace, my dear, I meant no harm!"

Ginny lost the battle to keep from laughing, "Honestly, what makes you such an insensitive git?"

"Insensitive? I'm very sensitive, I'll have you know," he gave her a lewd smile, "or so my acquaintances tell me."

"I'm sure," Ginny replied dryly, lips twisting along with her heart. She didn't really have the right to be sensitive about the subject, they weren't in a relationship.

Why not? A voice asked.

Oh, not good! "Don't you believe in love Malfoy?" she asked forcefully, determined to remind herself why anything with him was doomed to failure, "I mean, sex without love is an empty experience."

"True, sex without love is an empty experience. But as empty experiences go, it's a pretty good one." He replied with a roguish grin, making her heart thump.

"Honestly," she said again, rolling her eyes, "Don't you realize how you're trapping yourself? You're twenty five and still alone! What is so attractive about the single life that you're so bloody happy with it?"

She hoped he would make an infuriating reply, and therefore increase the gulf she imagined existed between them. She almost got her wish;

"Love is the answer," he said seriously, "but while we're waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty good questions."

Ginny laughed aloud, she couldn't help it. Draco Malfoy was an infuriating egotist, but she could never stay angry with him.

"Well, I can say I know that from experience," she said evenly, still smiling as she looked him straight in the eye, "Can't I?"

Draco stumbled just slightly, but quickly regained his footing. He said nothing, however.

Why did I bring that up, she wondered, confused. Fortunately he distracted her by pointing out a vendor selling love potions. They had a good laugh over it.

They walked all over Diagon Alley, then Apparated to Hogsmeade on a whim for lunch. While there Ginny bought a heart charm and necklace for her mother as a Valentine's Day gift. Draco purchased something as well, but she didn't see what it was. When she asked him, he smiled as they walked out of the shop.

"You inspired me," he replied, "just a little something for mum. I hope she likes it."

"Well, may I see it?" Ginny asked impatiently.

"I'd rather wait for her to see them first," he said, looking away and blushing slightly, "I don't know why, it just seems important."

Ginny frowned, but accepted his reply, "Well, what do you want to do next, then?"

Draco turned to her with a strange smile, "Let's go to the lake."
"To Hogwarts?" she asked, surprised.

"Why not?" he laughed, "It's not that far, really. We could rent a carriage to take us. Maybe we could see inside the place to."

Ginny didn't know what to say. It actually sounded. . . romantic. After all, it was at the Lake, during her sixth year, that. . .

She blushed and nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

An hour later they were on the far side of the Lake, and could see Hogwarts in the distance. Ginny dismounted carefully from the carriage, never having gotten over falling out of one and breaking her leg while in school. The memory still made her blush. More so because she had fallen out while watching someone else get out of the next carriage over, instead of paying attention to herself.

She had been watching her companion, Draco.

He took her hand as she climbed down the tiny (far too tiny, to her mind) carriage steps. Once both feet were firmly on the ground she allowed herself to smile. He offered his arm and they walked over to the shore, Ginny suddenly grinning as she saw a tentacle from the giant squid lazily trace the surface of the water. How long since she'd been here? A flood of memories swam through her mind. Some were sweet, like the first time she'd kissed Seamus, and the first time she cast a summoning spell correctly. She and her best friend had danced with joy. And some were sad. Like the day she'd looked over and. . .
Her eyes drifted back to Draco. He was standing tall, staring over the water with a distant expression. Did he remember? The late afternoon sun was glinting in his hair, giving him that look of an ethereal halo about his head. So angelic in his beauty, yet there's been a time when she'd been convinced his heart was very black indeed. . .

Ginny was sitting beside the lake shore, watching the sun set and thinking of all the things she wanted to do with her life, and of all the time she'd wasted pining for the things she couldn't get. Harry was in his seventh year now, and in less than six months he would be gone. He was going to be an Auror, and join Cho Chang at the Ministry. Ginny had accepted that fact over the course of the summer, but on days like today, when everything seemed to go wrong, her worst pains would rear their ugly heads.

And today had been bad. First she'd failed her potions quiz and nearly killed her hamster, Mr. Noodles. Then she'd gotten into a row with Susan, her best friend, over a stupid barrette Susan claimed was hers and Ginny had never given back. And to top everything off, Ron had called her Spotty Face at dinner just now, sending Ginny over the edge and storming out of the Great Hall. Sooner or later someone was going to catch her out here and give her detention. She sighed. Could life get any worse?

"Well, what have we here? A junior Weasel," came a drawling voice.

Apparently, it could.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she'd asked without turning. Just what she needed, another painful encounter! She shifted slightly, trying to remember how awful he was. The trouble is, a voice in her mind said, he's damn sexy. And available too!

Too true. She'd spent a good deal of her time at Hogwarts being teased unmercifully by him. More than enough time to notice him as a fine specimen of maleness. He'd grown tall and sleek, his time as a Quidditch player giving him an athlete's grace and strength, his Malfoy upbringing giving him an air of wordly sophistication and arrogance. There were moments when, as she passed him in the corridors, she could feel an electric magnetism rolling off of him. She wasn't the only one either. Many girls, and not just Slytherins, paid him attention. Which, of course, made him even more arrogant.

And more irresistible.

"Just out for a walk, Weasley," he replied, shaking her out of her reverie, "and wondering what sent you scuttling out here. Must have been bad to make you risk detention."

She turned to him then, "What do you care? If I get detention then you can have another laugh and that'll be it. Doesn't that get boring after a while? Don't you have anything better to do?"

He knelt down next to her, his face hard. "There's a saying; Hospitality is making your guests feel at home, even if you wish they were," he leaned very close to her, "so why not just take your brother and go while you can?"

She felt her face flush and her heart pound, but not just with his nearness, "You don't bloody own Hogwarts, you fucking twit, so don't get high and mighty with ME!"

She stared into his steel grey eyes and smelled the slight peppermint scent of his cologne. His expression hardened further, his cheeks flushed red, and he seemed to struggle for calm.

"Have it your own way," he growled, "but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Warn me about what?" she snapped.

He smirked, "Do you know how red your face gets when you're angry?"

"Do you know how irritating you are?" she'd replied coldly, trying not give in to the urge to kiss him while he was so close, but refusing to be the one to back down.

But he beat her to it, suddenly rocking forward and pressing his lips to hers. Ginny had stilled in shock, unable to believe it was happening. When his hands had grabbed her shoulders, deepening their contact, she had melted, feeling waves of heat wash over her, her body suddenly coming alive. When his hands flowed down to her waist, she'd felt delicious shocks of pleasure prickle over her nerves, and she became aware of her secret places as never before. His mouth then left hers and trailed down to her neck, delicately flicking his tongue over her sensitive flesh and causing goose bumps to prickle her flesh.

So this was desire.

So many emotions rose up in her. Fear, lust, shock, and feeling them all together clouded her thinking. He had pulled her very close, so close that she was in his lap, and could feel his own desire. That sent her heart racing even faster than before, and something else came to the fore. Something she had known for a long time, but had willfully denied because he was always so cruel. Something. . . impossible.

"I love you," she whispered.

He stilled, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her in front of him.

"What did you say?" he hissed.

Ginny had stared at him, not knowing what to answer because she couldn't believe she'd said it. She didn't know which was worse, having said it aloud or realizing it was true.

She was spared having to reply, however, when his mouth came back down on hers in a crushingly intense kiss. There was a sudden urgency in him, and it spilled over into her as he began fumbling with her robes, his hands seeking every curve of her body.

They made love under the starry sky, her first experience but obviously not his. It had confirmed every feeling she'd ever denied for him, and her heart felt both full and wrung. As she lay across his chest afterwards, absorbing his scent, the feel of his body, and the smoothness of his skin, she said it again.

He abruptly threw her off and began pulling his clothes on. Ginny had stared for a moment in shock, unable to comprehend the sudden change of his mood.

"What. . . are you doing?" she'd asked in a small voice, fear suddenly blooming in her chest.

"Wake up from your fairy tale dreams, Weasel," he growled as he stood to pull his pants on, "this was a right bit of fun, but nothing more. Your head's full of crap if you think I'd date a Weasley!"

Ginny had stared at him, feeling numbness spread from her heart slowly outwards, until she could barely feel herself.

"What?" she asked woodenly.

He threw his robe on, balling his shirt and tie up to carry. Turning to her one last time, his expression was colder than ice, and more distant than the moon.

"Thanks," he smirked, and walked away.

Ginny felt a wetness on her face. Raising her hand, she felt the tracks of tears criss crossing her cheeks. The wind blowing off the lake was cold, and she shivered as it whipped around her.

"Eight years ago today," she said, then turned once again to look at Draco. His expression remained distant, and she was about to repeat herself when he spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Virginia," he said softly.

So he did remember.

"Why?" she asked simply. He smiled humorlessly, then turned to look at her. For the first time since knowing him she saw pain in his eyes.

"I couldn't be with you then, Ginny," he shook his head, staring intently into her eyes, "I was still in hiding, so to speak. I couldn't risk doing anything that would expose me or my father before the time was right."

He closed his eyes and looked down, and she waited for him to continue. There was more, she knew, because Draco never spilled everything at once.

"I shouldn't have. . . taken advantage of you like that. I knew better, but. . . " he opened his eyes and looked at her again, smiling slightly, "you were always so beautiful, so full of fire. When you ran out here that night. . . "

"Hell Ginny, didn't you ever wonder why I went looking for you, actually chased you around, just to tease you?"

Ginny blinked in surprise, honestly taken aback. "Er. . . well, no I didn't. I just thought you were an arse."

He was silent for several moments, just letting her think, and remember. She blushed as dim, small, but specific recollections drifted back to her. Draco suddenly appearing as she left Snape's class late one day, calling her a Weasel Tart. It had been a Tuesday, and he would have had to walk all the way from Herbology.

She remembered his next class would have been double Astronomy, because when she'd called him a Prancing Primadonna, he'd angrily gathered his books and snapped that he had star charts to study, and no time to waste on impoverished and classless fools. She blushed, suddenly remembering an incident during her fifth year as she'd watched the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice. Draco had suddenly appeared next to her, and they'd spent the next ten minutes trading insults, until Ron had noticed him there and flew over. Why would he have gone there, amidst several of his strongest enemies, without even Crabbe and Goyle, just to call her a sentimental Potter fangirl?

Her eyes refocused on him, taking in his windblown hair and pale, serious face.

"You hurt me," she accused.

"I know," he replied, not looking away this time, "I was wrong, and I wish I could make it right. But I'm not sorry."

That surprised her, and she wavered between anger and concurrence. The pain had been horrible, especially for a sixteen year old girl. But she'd had that memory, had kept it close for years.

"By the time everything came out you were already with Finnigan," Draco spoke again, his voice a tad harsh, "I'd lost my chance, and there wasn't much I could do but accept it."

He turned back towards the water, and she struggled to find something to say. You could make it right, we could make it right, we could do it now, she thought desperately, trying to find the right words to say it.

"Draco," she said finally, "stupidity got us into this mess, can't it get us out?"

A slow smile spread over his face, then his shoulders began to shake. Finally, he began to laugh.

"You're unbelievable, d'you know that?" he chortled.

Ginny laughed as well, "I learned from the biggest loser I know!"

His eyes widened, "Loser? Me? Just because you and everyone else thinks I'm a lazy Player doesn't mean it's true!"

Ginny laughed harder, "I know you work in your dad's business, your name actually comes up a lot in the trades. I was referring to your lost chances."

Ginny followed her instincts and allowed her arm to thread itself with his, pressing up against him as she looked earnestly into his face.

"What shall we do now, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked softly, her brown eyes wide and serious.

Draco stared at her, wondering if time was more forgiving than he'd originally thought. Putting his hand in a deep robe pocket, he pulled out the jewelry box containing his mother's gift.

"I lied," he said softly, "this is actually for you."

Her eyes widened more as she took the box with trembling hands. It was long, covered in black leather, and inlaid with mother of pearl. Opening it, she found an exquisite bracelet of gold encrusted with emeralds.

"Merlin's Beard!" she gasped, "Draco, I. . . I couldn't possibly. . . "

"It's for you," he said again, "don't you like it?"

"It's beautiful," she said softly, tears filling her eyes, "but. . . why?"

"Call it a bribe," he said, taking her hand and kissing it, "to convince you to give me another chance."

She smiled brilliantly at him, making his heart pound, "You don't need a bracelet for that!"

Putting her hands on either side of his face she pulled down for a deep, heartfelt kiss. It was here, a day she never thought she'd see, but had secretly and unconsciously hoped for since she was sixteen. The day Draco Malfoy gave her his heart, and became hers.

She felt his right hand stealing upwards, inching to her wrist, and—

She pulled away with a laugh, "No you don't! You might not have needed it, but I think I'll keep it anyway!"

"Ah, bless," he laughed as well, "she does have a greedy streak!"

"Yes, I do," she grinned, "and we'll start with your other paramours. Dump them!"

Draco laughed heartily, "Your wish is my command, vixen!"

"If you know what's good for you," she added.

He stopped laughing and looked deeply into her eyes, "I love you Ginny Weasley. I always have. Will you be my Valentine?"

Tears stung her eyes again, and she felt her entire world snap into place with an aching perfection.

"Yes."

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Can't Blow Out A Fire

Title: Can't Blow Out a Fire
Author name: Carfiniel
Author email: carfiniel@yahoo.com
Rating: PG

Summary: Justin Finch-Fletchley, leader of the Anti-Obstructionist Party--which opposes Fudge's claims that Voldemort hasn't risen again--is the next favourite for Minister of Magic. But Harry knows of a threat against Justin's life. Can he save Justin?

Takes place before the events of "Brothers in Arms".
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author notes: Thanks as always to Longstrider and Dena, and gigantic thanks and hugs to my Brit-picker Essayel, who set me straight regarding London accents. Seamus' West Ham dialogue is straight from her.

And my thanks to Carfiniel for allowing me to post her beautiful fics!

Can't Blow Out a Fire

a prequel to "Brothers in Arms"

"The man is dead, the man is dead
You can blow out a candle
But you can never blow out a fire
Once the flames begin to catch
The wind will blow it higher...
The man is dead, the man is dead
And the eyes of the world are watching you now...
You gotta waken up, you gotta face up
I think you gotta open up
The eyes of the world are watching you now
You gotta waken up, you gotta face up
You know you can never turn away
Never turn away"
-- "Biko" Simple Minds, Street Fighting Years

"I've had a letter from Dean," Hermione said, coming into Harry's office without bothering to knock.

Harry looked up from the papers he was perusing for the fifth time. Something was missing, he had almost grasped it... But Hermione had come in, and the tendril of thought was dashed away. He scowled. "Learn to knock, why don't you?"

"All right, be snarky. But I think it's important you see this." She plunked a parchment down in front of him and he reflexively began reading.

Dear Hermione--

I hope all is well with you. I know you've been looking into Muggle schools--I hope you won't neglect Eton, as I have heard it is a good school, if your children are unable to attend Hogwarts. For myself, I'd be Petrified if I had to attend a Muggle school now. So many ways to mess up and give away that I'm a wizard. Fortunately the Art Institute, while technically a Muggle institution, is chock full of wizards and witches. There are several of us who watch each others' backs, and keep in touch with news of the wizarding world. Interestingly enough, much of the art is actually very political in nature. I would never have imagined it to be true, but even pictures such as Christ on Golgotha, or the martyrdom of saints, are often political in nature. Anyway, enough about me--I'm not the center of the world, I know. Give my regards to everyone at your home, and as always, be safe.

Love,
Dean

After a minute he looked back up at her, perplexed. "Hermione, this is a nice letter, but why do you think it's important?"

She smirked at him. "I'm not corresponding with Dean for my health, Harry. It was Ron's idea--he thought it'd make more sense if Dean were writing to me, rather than to Ron. So Dean and I worked it out." She muttered a few words Harry couldn't hear, then said, "Revelare." She touched her wand to the parchment.

With Hermione's spell, certain words changed from black ink to red. Harry studied these for a moment. Hermione--Eton attend Hogwarts. Petrified Muggle. Art Institute wizards and witches. Watch backs, news. Political. Golgotha martyrdom political. Dean. After puzzling over this for several minutes, Harry looked up at Hermione.

"All right, I give. What does it mean?"

She smiled. "It's passing along intelligence. Eton attend Hogwarts, Petrified Muggle, means Justin Finch-Fletchley. You remember, he was down for Eton, if he hadn't been accepted to Hogwarts, and he was Petrified our second year. Art Institute wizards and witches means that Dean is in contact with at least one Death Eater, possibly more. Watch backs, news, Political, means that Dean's been watching Justin's progress in the wizarding world, and the intelligence has to do with Justin's political ambitions. Golgotha is a reference to Christ's crucifixion, which happened on Golgotha, called the Hill of Skulls. Skulls are the Dark Mark, you see? Martyrdom political means someone is planning to kill Justin." She looked at him with triumph in her eyes.

Harry didn't have to feign his astonishment. "I can't believe you got all that out of this letter," he said admiringly. "That must have been a pretty complicated codespell you designed."

She looked down modestly, but he knew she was pleased. "I think we should get someone in contact with Dean for the details. Justin's been helping our cause an awful lot, Harry."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, he and his party have been very important in the fight against Voldemort. If only I could get him to use Voldemort's name. It would be a terrible blow to lose his support. But still, if the Death Eaters are planning to kill him, that means he's really having an impact. I've always liked Finch-Fletchley," he added. "All right, I'll talk to Seamus--Ron's not back yet, is he?" When Hermione shook her head, he nodded again. "Right, then. Go find Seamus, bring him up to speed on Dean's letter, and then send him in to me."

~*~

A week later, Seamus was back in Godric's Hollow, sunburned and more relaxed than he had been in weeks. He reported immediately to Harry's office, where Harry and Hermione were going over plans for Ron's birthday. Seamus kissed Hermione's cheek and saluted Harry, grinning. "Interrupting big plans, am I?" he asked.

Harry laughed. "Do you know how difficult it is to plan a surprise party for your Chief Intelligence Officer?" he asked wryly. "I never know who's going to leak the information to him."

Seamus laughed and raised his right hand. "Won't be me, Brigadier. I promise."
Amused, Harry shook his head and went to sit behind his desk. "Take a seat, both of you," he said, Summoning the chairs across the room for them. "I want a full report, and Hermione will obviously have insights we thick fellows will miss."

Seamus nodded. "Let me tell you, Chief, it wasn't easy getting a word alone with Dean. He's got a girlfriend who's too smart to be allowed--though not as sharp as our Hermione here," he said, grinning at her. "She doesn't know Dean's a Phoenician, doesn't even know anything about the Order, but she does know stuff about Finch-Fletchley Enterprises, and she's an avid supporter of Justin's. So we think she's safe enough, but he's unwilling to compromise security, of course."

"Good. I knew I could count on Dean for discretion," Harry said approvingly. "How did you get in?"

"I p'tended I wz n old migh' uh Dean's from Wesdam," Seamus said, astonishing Harry--and, from her expression, Hermione as well--by losing his Irish accent entirely and replacing it with one that made him sound like he had something stuck to the roof of his mouth. "Should have seen me, showing up in a business suit, pinstripes and all, and flashing a fake business card in her face, Fiennes and Fiennes, Import/Export. She bought it, though, thought I was a real Muggle." He grinned and dropped the accent. "Good job Dean insisted on hanging those posters of his mad footyball thingummy in the dorm--West Ham United." Harry laughed and ignored Hermione's puzzled look.

"Dean greeted me with the proper amount of surprise and delight," Seamus continued, "and promptly suggested the most expensive restaurant in town when I offered to take them to dinner. When she was in the toilet, he told me there's a small cell of Death Eaters in town, one of whom is related to an Art Institute witch in his class. He gave me a date--next Tuesday--and the name of the conference center where Finch-Fletchley's supposed to be giving a speech. Said they were planning to Apparate in, Stupefy a bunch of people, and Avada Kedavra Finch-Fletchley and his big-name supporters."

Seamus shook his head. "Don't know how they're going to pull it off, but even if they do, they're a bunch of berks to try. Voldemort'd be better off ignoring Finch-Fletchley and letting Fudge run him down. If Finch-Fletchley's curse-killed in the middle of a political convention, people aren't going to be pointing the finger at Fudge; they'll start lending credence to the story the Anti-Obstructionist Party is putting about."

Harry nodded slowly. "You're right about that. I wonder if this plan has Voldemort's sanction, or if it's a few Death Eaters taking the initiative upon themselves."

Seamus held up a hand. "Well, you haven't heard the rest of it, yet. Gabrielle came back from the bathroom before Dean could tell me anything else, but when we were leaving the restaurant, I made a reservation for me and a 'business partner' for lunch there the next day. I told Dean and Gabrielle that I'd be in town for the next couple of days, and I'd be in touch again before leaving town."

"Good thinking," Hermione said.

Seamus shrugged. "I knew Dean had more information he wanted to give me, and I hoped I might do a bit of poking around myself, quietly. In case I was being watched, I looked up a friend of my mam who'd left the Republic a few years ago, and took her to my lunch reservation the next day. We had a nice time catching up, and she's got a very pretty daughter." He leered, making Hermione laugh. Harry bit back his impatience. "Anyway," Seamus continued, "two nights later, I got my chance. I'd got hold of Gabrielle's art class timetable, and one afternoon when she had an evening class coming up, I rang up Dean and asked if he wanted to hit a pub for dinner. He checked with her and she said to go on and have a good time."
Harry nodded.

"Turns out," Seamus said, his voice growing grave, "Finch-Fletchley's ex-girlfriend is a member of the Death Eater circle who's planning to kill him. She's an American bird he picked up when she was touring with her Quidditch team last year, but I don't think she's the forgive-and-forget type of girl. She knows him too well, Harry, right down to the dress robes he'll be wearing Tuesday."
Harry frowned. "How can she know things like that? Are they still in contact?"
Seamus shook his head. "She's just bloody good. Or bad, I reckon. Anyway, Dean had this information from his mate, who'd overheard the conversation and told him because he knew Dean and Finch-Fletchley were at Hogwarts together."

"So the mate, he's on our side?" Harry asked.

"Dunno about that, Chief, because Dean didn't seem too certain himself. I'd say we have to be cautious, whatever we do, just to make sure Dean isn't tied to the Order in any way. If you want to send in operatives, they need to be anonymous, Americans, if you can--and we can put about that they'd been on her trail for a while."

"So this American Quidditch player, what's her name?" Hermione asked.

"Margaret Nixon," Seamus said. "She plays for the Texas Twisters, I think."

"Yeah," Harry said, thinking. What could they do to protect Justin? They didn't have any Americans working this side of the pond with them, and any contacts he had in America were likely to be too late to help. No, there was always the chance Dena Davies was still in Wales with the Pendragons. That might do it. He nodded shortly. "Right. I'm going to send an owl over to the Pendragons, see if they've still got their American cousin with them. Then I'll put her on the job. In the meantime, I'm going to Manchester to see Justin."

~*~

"I will not moderate my opposition to You-Know-Who," Justin said, turning away. "How can you of all people ask this of me?" He went to stand by the window, but turned his back on it, facing Harry again. "Potter, I know you have your ways, and you should know I have mine. We're on the same side here."

"I'm not asking you to play down your opposition, Justin. I know we're on the same side. Believe me, I'm incredibly grateful to have you as an ally." Harry scrubbed his hand through his hair, leaving it even less tidy than it had been. "It's just--you need to be more careful. When my people start uncovering plots to off you, that's not a good sign."

Justin smiled tightly. "I've already thanked you, Potter. Don't make me keep doing it. I don't flatter myself that my life is that much more valuable than anyone else's."

Yes, you're entirely self-effacing, Harry thought bitterly. He sighed. "That wasn't what I meant. It's just that Voldemort is starting to view you as a threat. While on the one hand, that's a good thing, you've got to realize that you need better security than you have."

"You think I don't have security?" Justin said, gesturing around him. "This room is monitored with a Muggle electronic system, in addition to having half a dozen wards set up around the room, and another dozen set up around the entire building. Trust me, Finch-Fletchley Enterprises is safe."

"My parents thought they were safe," Harry said.

Justin's smile became a little patronizing. "Harry, that was a long time ago. Technical knowledge has improved since then. Besides, I have the best witches and wizards in Britain working on it--well, those not snapped up by your Order."

"Why don't you consider accepting the additional security I can offer you?" Harry suggested, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. "We're allies, Justin. We should be working together."

The patronizing quality of Justin's smile became more apparent. "Oh, I know all about your little enclave in Godric's Hollow, Potter. I just don't see a need to join it."

"You would be our guest, Justin. I'm not trying to take charge of your operations or anything, and I wouldn't expect you to be privy to our confidential operations, either. We would just be sharing a base. The Phoenicians wouldn't interfere with your day-to-day business."

"That's for certain," Justin said, and his tone was less indulgent, with an edge to his voice now. "Why don't you tend to your own business, and let me tend to mine? I assure you, I have hand-picked teams working for me."

"Yes, you have a lot of excellent wizards here," Harry agreed. "I know some of them personally, and a few others by reputation. Your organization is very impressive. But Justin, Voldemort is a very resourceful enemy. He could already have corrupted one or more of them."

The indulgence was back. "These are people I've known for years, Harry. Some of them since Hogwarts. Ms Bones and Mr Boot are both with us, you know. There's not a witch or wizard among them who would betray me."

"My parents thought that, too!" Harry retorted. "They were betrayed by a man they'd gone to school with. Peter Pettigrew was one of my father's first friends, since before Hogwarts days. And he still turned his back on them when Voldemort beckoned him."

"Say You-Know-Who, will you?" Justin said angrily.

"I won't!" Harry said, raising his voice. "Dumbledore has always said that fearing to name a thing makes it stronger, and I will not give Voldemort strength by fearing to say his name. I will not speak euphemistically of the biggest evil in this world."

Justin's eyes widened at Harry's outburst, and the smile had slipped from his face. "Harry," he said slowly, "aren't you taking this a little too personally?"

Harry sighed and scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little embarrassed, but at the same time indignant. "Justin, Voldemort killed my parents and tried to kill me when I was a baby. He tried to kill me nearly every year once I started at Hogwarts, and since I left Hogwarts, he's tried to kill me about once a month. Don't you think I have a right to take it a bit personally? Look at all our friends--he killed Diggory, didn't he? And Padma and Parvati? And what about all the others, all the ones a few years younger or a few years older, that we didn't know well, but they'd gone to Hogwarts with us, and they were good people, and he killed them. And now you're on his list, too. Don't you understand, Justin, that this is personal?"

His quiet intensity had gotten through where reason and shouting had not. Justin was completely sombre now, meeting Harry's gaze levelly. "All right, Harry. You're right about that. But how can I retreat from this place, into a place that's secure, but secret? I'm a public figure. People know about you, they understand the war you're fighting and that you have to be secret to do it; but I'm a politician, and politicians are servants of the people. I can't retreat from the people I'm purporting to serve, can I? It's my obligation to them, as much as anything, that keeps me here."

"Manchester isn't going to be safe forever," Harry said quietly.

Justin nodded. "I know that, Harry. Believe me, I understand the risks I'm taking. I've considered them all very carefully, I've weighed the cost, and I've found that there really is no choice." He stepped towards him and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I do appreciate the intelligence you shared with me, and the efforts it required of you and your people. And I also appreciate your offer of protection. But I couldn't live with myself if I left Manchester now. This is what I have to do, Harry."

They searched each other's gazes for a long minute. Finally, Harry nodded. "I'm sorry to hear it, but I understand," he said. "I promise you you'll have immediate access to any information we come across regarding your safety, and you'll always have a welcome in Godric's Hollow, or wherever we can help you. That's my word on it, Justin."

Justin smiled slightly. "And for my part, if I hear anything that can impact your operations, or likewise guard your safety, I'll let you know immediately. That's my word on that, Harry."</