- Chapter 70 -

Crimson Waters

   Windswept and sticky hair, spread in awkward ways and sopping wet clothing. The style was unitary. Everyone who had made it back to the Great Hall for lunch, too hungry to take a voluntary shower first or even only dry themselves magically, looked the same. Almost the same. One of the tables, the only table that wore mostly green among black, held a mood nothing short of pure depression. The rest of the hall was cheerful, even partly the losers’ Head of House. But that was probably because he was having a lively chat with one of his former favourite students who seemed bothering her own appearance as much as the majority did. Her thick dark hair was hanging down in still dripping bundles over her dark skin and her green Quidditch uniform created a small pond around her feet.

   A thundering applause broke out when the heroine of the hour was carried in on the shoulders of her Housemates along with her equally exhausted and drenched comrades. Supporting her as well, two of her brothers who had taken a day off for the match, her best female friends; one wearing a big lion’s head for a hat; and her fiancé, whose long black hair was as wavy as hers and Hermione’s, despite being as wet as everyone else’s. Neville, Hannah, Dean, Seamus and Parvati helped holding up the other players.

   After long, action-packed hours, Ginevra had caught the Snitch hanging upside down on her broom and speeding only inches above the muddy ground of the pitch, having given the Slytherin Seeker no chance to beat that. Grinning like a Cheshire cat and laughing out what was left of her lungs, she held the thrashing golden nut high up for everyone to see it, bathing in the carols that echoed through the hall, crushing the Slytherins with a variation of the famous words that had once been written by one of them. Almost all of Hogwarts sang `Weasley is our Queen´, as they were carried through the central corridor, up to the middle of the hall and let down to finally take a seat and enjoy lunch as though they had already won the cup.

 

   “SHUT UP!”, Ginevra laughed when everyone had made themselves comfortable. “I’M HUNGRY!”, but instead of digging in, she grabbed Harry’s face and the cheers burst their ears once more on their kissing.

   “I’d like to kiss a Weasley too.”, Hermione meant amid more peals of laughter and an indifferent shrug of Ron and – bent around to place a thick kiss on Ginevra’s cheek before she devoted to her boyfriend’s lips, Ginevra laughing on into Harry’s chest then.

   “I’m sorry to disturb,”, a teacher deadened the rejoicing, his arm laid around his girlfriend who still wore a red raincoat over her Hufflepuff uniform, “Mostly because I might risk being attacked with apples by my former Housemates, but that was an absolutely breathtaking, magnificent and epically amazing game. From all of you. Feel free to carry on. Oh – and long overdue ten points to Ravenclaw for that extraordinary hat, Luna.”

   “Now, now.”, the Headmistress, her shining red robes being of a darker red now than before the match and her bun sloppily dangling between her shoulder blades, had reached the core of the party. “That is slightly – too less for Ravenclaw. I would say, another ten for Miss Patil for levitating herself up from the ground onto the highest seats of the stands.”

   “But Madam!”, Padma moaned, having magically cut out a piece of a bench to fit in her wheelchair at the Gryffindor table. “I’m not a student anymore!”

   “Oh as if I wouldn’t know after such remarkable results on your N.E.W.T.s.”, McGonagall lilted. “But that doesn’t stop me from awarding points to your former House. And you lot, you should rather be quick with that meal of yours and get yourselves dry. The season isn’t over yet. For the rest of you, a cold is no excuse for missing classes.”

   “That would apply to you as well, Professor.”

   “Don’t be ridiculous, Miss Granger. I can very well keep myself healthy. Yes, I can. Oh don’t give me that look, Draco – oh my goodness – ”

 

   All heads turned into her viewing direction. The black woman had abandoned Slughorn at the staff table and wiped back her wet hair, flouncing towards the heart of the red mass, her broad shoulders adding a breathtaking touch to it, as if she was a dark lion herself.

 

   “That’s really been a fantastic game, you played there.”, she raised her voice while she was still walking the last yards and the hall fell completely silent, heads eagerly peeking past others.

   “Holy – fire spitting barnacle, may you strike me hard – ”, Ginevra aspirated to herself, staring up to the woman, probably more perplexed than everyone else in the hall.

   “No way – ”, Ron breathed. “No – that can’t be – that’s not – no – ”

   “You deserve the title `Queen´, Miss Weasley.”, Ginevra went bright red but swung her legs over the bench, sprang up and stood as straight as if she was about to salute. “Ey, no need to be so stiff, mate.”, the woman grinned with her arms akimbo. “That was a damn great catch.”

   “Thanks.”, Ginevra chuckled, a little more relaxed now and even the Snitch she still held seemed to calm down.

   “For how long have you been Seeker?”

   “Quite a while. I’ve actually started as a Chaser, but went as a substitute when Harry wasn’t allowed to play.”, she shortly jerked her head down at him. “I’ve done his job ever since then.”

   “Captain too, I heard?”

   “Yeah.”

   “Great. That’s a really good team you’ve built yourself there.”, Ginevra only chuckled with a flattered smile. “Fine. You seem to know who I am, don’t you?”

   “She used to have her room wallpapered with you,”

   “Shut up, Harry!”, Ginevra hissed from the corner of her mouth.

   “Really? Well, that’s an honour. Now. You’ll graduate this year?”

   “Yes.”

   “Wonderful. Half of my team’s had their fills, but you might know anyway.”

   “I – do?”, aspirated Ginevra, her breathing becoming heavier and Ron’s jaw clapped open, apparently having understood where this was going.

   “Right. I’ll be lacking a Chaser, Seeker, Keeper and my second half and so I’ll have to face a very much renewed team for the Millennium Season. Not so bad. I’m prepared for that. The problem is,”

   “Everyone in the junior teams is afraid of you.”, Ginevra mumbled subdued.

   “You got it. No idea why, but they seem to fear me more than my bat and that’s no use if they want to be in my team. Anyway, that’s why I thought, I might go looking at the very bottom. I’ve secretly watched all previous games of the school year, and saw some really satisfying stuff here. But it wasn’t enough, you know. Though that game today, I must admit, your team beat the crap out of me. So, unfortunately you’re the only bird in that freaky casserole, but if you find some worthy for the other free positions, just send me an owl and I’ll take a look at them, okay?”

   “Okay – ”, Ginevra panted.

   “So, if you’re as good a Chaser as you’re a Seeker, I’ll leave you the choice, how you go searching for our team. Deal?”, she held out her right hand; it took Ginevra a moment to grasp that this was actually happening, but she accepted with a broad smile.

   “Absolutely!”

   “Any more to say?”, they let go.

   “Nothing more than thank you, Captain Jones!”

   “Gwen, for you now.”, she winked and gave her a firm pat on the shoulder, but Ginevra was so used to receive those from her brothers that her knees didn’t give in, notwithstanding her state of being completely out of sorts. “Then, enjoy your well-earned lunch. I’ll be off for my own, okay?”

   “Sure.”

   “If I haven’t received an owl earlier, but you still want to be in the team, just send me an invitation to your graduation party.”

   “I’ll do that, yes.”, Ginevra chuckled.

   “See you.”

   “Yeah – bye – ”

 

   Each and everyone stared after Gwenog as she left the hall for the open front gates and disappeared out in the rain. Then the applause erupted once more and, pure pride in her eyes, Minerva McGonagall laid her hand on Ginevra’s left shoulder when Harry had gotten up and gently pulled her into his arms. Ginevra only covered her face with her hands, unwilling to reveal the tears of disbelief. Ron had wrapped his own arms around Hermione’s stomach from behind, the gaze at his sister mirroring that of their former Head of House.

 

   “Now it’s confirmed!”, George grinned, standing and clapping like many others again. “There’s a real Harpy in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Weasels!”

 

 

~~#~~

 

 

   Fresh snow glided down on muddy grounds, between some newborn leaves that would quite probably not survive the night. An invisible force dug into the dirt, mixing the gentle white with wet brown again and again and forming rather deep trenches for something that was not supposed to be there. But for her, it was. As was it for many others now. They however, were far away and she was alone – or would have been, for the eyes of someone who had the luck of not being able to see what reshaped the forest ground.

   Snowflakes vanished in midair when they landed on the dark, bony bodies, but for her, they melted on the warm skin of the beings. With an absent smile, she threw a raw piece of meat into the herd and watched one of them swallow it with relish, while the others shared a dead Acromantula.

   Cold crawled up her legs, but her thoughts were too distant from where she stood as to bother. The waterproof, thick woollen stockings kept away most of it. Suddenly, she was not alone with the herd anymore. From behind, a hooded figure approached her in the shelter of the old trees, graceful like the breeze’s sigh – it could have been caution, or sadness. But it was not hesitation. She didn’t turn. There was no need. Somehow, she had expected someone to come. The stranger stopped at her side and neither looked at the other. Their eyes only followed the next piece of meat that was thrown onto the ground.

   For a long while, they stood there, silent, studying the peaceful herd, until her bag was empty. Then the stranger turned to leave, without a look at her, without a word. But he stopped once more, upon a whisper that spoke to him, accompanied by a soft smile, and she held out her loose fist while the words glided over her lips.

 

   “They won’t be able to move on unless everyone has let them go.”

 

   Hesitation had arrived then. It filled the entire body of the other, when a hand in a black glove approached the tiny stone which laid on fair, seemingly fragile fingers. Those indeed belonged to a strong body that hosted a much, much stronger soul and heart, much like the other. And though in a glove, the hand shivered at the touch, whether it was that of which had held the stone or the stone itself, neither knew, nor cared.

   Fascinated, or unsure whether it was there, the fingers in black held up the stone against the silhouette of the angelic face, blurred to the eyes due to the focus on the object.

 

   “He knows.”, she said, not losing her smile, but the hand sank with the other’s fingers enclosing the stone. “But I’m sure you were aware of that already. Though there’s no need to worry. He won’t spoil it, and you know that too.”

 

   For a moment that appeared like an eternity, she paused, as if waiting for a reaction, regardless of knowing there wouldn’t be the slightest.

 

   “I’ll tell her to do something to get her mind off on a certain day, if that is alright for you,”

 

   There was still no answer, but neither did she request one, nor would it have been necessary for the hooded to say any word at all. Both understood.

   And the black figure, not really a stranger, became like the animals – invisible to those who had a pleasant life, and even more, invisible to all who weren’t supposed to see. As silent as he had arrived, he went. As silent, the girl turned into the other direction and was gone equally.

 

 

~~#~~

 

 

   Dramatic weather ruled over all following weeks, bringing loads of rain and snow in rotating intervals all over Britain, making it almost impossible for anyone to spend a day outside and clouds were so omnipresent that the one or other began to make jokes of wondering about what a clear sky would look like, if there should ever be one again, apart from the artificial weather images created in the many fake windows of the Ministry of Magic. So it wasn’t until May that the real sky showed itself to larger parts of the isles and Hogwarts even had to wait for the first of June to see a sunrise without clouds, though they decided to return to business in the course of the day and gathered for a nice thunderstorm that stagnated one person’s mood that was anyway in horrible conditions ever since the first anniversary of a certain battle.

   It had been a reserved celebration at Hogwarts, with some tear-washed speeches under the many grey clouds that had conquered the sky so effectively. Far away from that school, where students and teachers alike were drowning in examination stress as though there had never been any war, he drowned in the weather. The leaf canopy wasn’t the umbrella he had hoped for. His eyes boring into the stone in front of him though he didn’t fully see it past his tired, wet eyes and the equally wet glasses, his thoughts were everywhere but the place he stood at.

   They were with two sisters and a little boy that probably sat together on the veranda of their lone house, gazing out at the lake. Then they moved on, to high numbers of children he didn’t know, but knew to be well cared for in an orphanage that had been opened around Easter. They were with the job he was supposed to dedicate to at the very moment, but was unwilling to do so, knowing he might risk his occupation. They were with his fianceé, who would quite probably graduate in a month with highest marks in the subjects she took and afterwards become what he felt sorry for not having had in mind himself when he had been asked about his planned career: a professional Quidditch player in one of Britain’s best teams.

   But life had had different ideas for him from the beginning on anyway. His thoughts travelled to his room in The Burrow, that was missing a red wall ever since January, but now hosted a picture of Hogwarts in front of an almost clear blue sky he had painted himself from a photo reference and was really proud of. The bed in front had been enlarged and he couldn’t await sharing it with Ginevra again. And then, those thoughts were torn radically off their path, by the voice of a friend.

 

   “Hey.”, his head spun to the young man he hadn’t heard coming or noticed in any other way, but was glad it was him and not someone who would mean harm.

   “Hey.”, he replied as limp and looked back at the grave while Neville closed up with his hands in his wetting pockets.

   “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not wise to stand under a tree while a thunderstorm’s showcasing its most magnificent bolts above?”, Harry only shrugged. “Or want to join them at last.”, he shrugged again. “Robards’s really worried.”

   “What do I care.”, Harry sighed, but it was nearly swallowed by a thunder.

   “I don’t think they’d want it.”, Neville gave the grave a nod.

   “Perhaps,”

   “Look, I didn’t really come to cheer you up, because I know you won’t let me do that. But someone’s waiting for you in Robards’ office.”

   “And who?”

   “No idea who she is.”

   “She?”, Harry still wouldn’t look up, but did indeed develop some rapidly increasing interest.

   “The door opened and suddenly she was there. I’d just handed over my report on that mishap in Aberdeen when the door opened and closed. She came totally invisible and locked us in. But I didn’t get to see her face yet. Wore a Death Eater mask.”

   “What?”, Harry’s head jerked up so quick his glasses slid to the side and he had to readjust them, though it didn’t benefit his sight much.

   “Dunno. She didn’t do anything than assuring us she wouldn’t harm anyone but rather has information for you you’d be eager to hear.”

   “Alright – ”, Harry panted and seconds later they walked through the Atrium of the Ministry, drying their eyes. “Did she trap you?”, he asked on, cleaning his glasses.

   “No. She was rather busy defending herself with a Shield Charm against Robards. When he’d calmed down, she even restored the office.”

 

   Due to the average weather, no one was paying attention to the stream they created on the tiled floor behind. They weren’t the only ones to do so, and people had gotten used to jumping out of the way of enchanted mops soaring through the air to do their duty. The clattering of the lift as loud as the thunderstorm over Godric’s Hollow, they quickly jumped out at their floor and headed straight for the double door of the Auror Office.

 

   “What the – Harry? Have you taken a bath or what?”, Ron chuckled from his desk as they passed him.

   “Nearly.”, Neville answered for him. “Picked him up showering himself under a tree.”

   “Hopefully it wasn’t a walnut tree.”, a woman giggled.

   “I’m not as unfortunate as your Dad, Simone.”, Harry grumbled and splashed Neville with more water when he shook his hair in front of their boss’s closed office door.

   “Right. Shall we?”

   “Yeah.”, Neville pressed down the handle, but the door wouldn’t open.

   “Okay? Well, seems we have to wait.”, but they waited in vain.

   “Are you sure she didn’t feign an excuse to kill him in there while you were away?”

   “That’s not funny,”

   “I didn’t laugh.”

   “I know. Still. Get back.”

   “What – no! You’re not going to burst it up!”

   “What other chance do we have?”

   “An unlocking spell?”, Harry moaned. “Or maybe – that?”, he knocked three firm times.

   “Knocking?”, Neville murmured, but the lock clicked and Harry threw him an angry glance. “Oh.”

   “And you thought I’m off my trolley, standing under a tree in a storm. Honestly, bombarding a door before considering asking politely – as if we’d be facing Fluffy in there.”

   “And if we are? You just said she might have killed him – ”

   “Oh shut up.”, Harry opened the door lively and immediately found a wand pointed at his face.

   “Good.”, still covered with a soft golden metal mask, the woman breathed the word at him. “You, may enter. But he,”, she nodded a single time at Neville, “Will wait outside.”, she stepped back and let him in. “Just like you.”, her wand was now pointed at Robards who held his own up as well.

   “I will not leave you alone in here with him.”

   “You survived me too, didn’t you? I said, I have information for him. Not an Infernal Crystal. Get out.”

 

   Harry could see the angry, flashing blue eyes follow his boss until he had left. Then the door fell shut and he was locked in with the woman who wore thick purple leather robes and a hooded cloak in similar colour, which she now pushed back and revealed an elegant dark blond mane. When she trailed her wand over her mask, it dissolved and Harry got to see a heavy jawed, tanned, but otherwise quite beautiful face. Nevertheless her expression was grim and she studied him from top to bottom.

 

   “You really had a shower.”, her rather growling voice with an unmistakably American accent fitted the rugged features, but her look became slightly amused and she blinked several quick times.

   “And if?”, Harry grunted at her. “Who are you and what do you want.”

   “Straight forward to the point, yes. That’s how I like it. Well, I want to offer you some help.”

   “Meaning?”

   “Meaning that.”, she reached into one of her front pockets and pulled a small, silver pouch, from which she withdrew a thick, red, Dragon skin folder that was bound shut with two belts.

   “What’s that?”, Harry stared up at her but took it anyway.

   “Don’t ask. Open.”, a little sceptical, he did so. “Well?”

   “Er – ”

   “Familiar with that?”

   “That’s – ”, he held up a photo that was owned by red, one of that kind he had decided to take off the wall for good.

   “They’ve continued your work. Recorded all data, took photos – and cleaned up afterwards. No signs on doors anymore, but they continued their job, like they stated.”

   “And how come you get hands on that?”, Harry closed the folder securely and resumed looking deep into her crystal eyes, trying to break into the mind behind, but was smacked back out before he could get a single glimpse through her guards.

   “I’m a friend.”

   “They work alone.”

   “So do you, preferably.”, he said nothing on that. “See? But that doesn’t mean they don’t have a life apart from that work.”, Harry shortly wiggled his eyebrows on her clothes.

   “You fought at Hogwarts?”

   “Yes.”

   “Okay. How much do you want for that?”

   “Charming.”, she chuckled. “I offer you help. A friend doesn’t ask being paid for such.”

   “If you say so,”

   “Not only I. I heard, you say that too in times.”

   “Why now.”

   “Simply. They’re still not done yet. By far not. But some must’ve taken a whiff that they’re still active and returned to Britain.”

   “What?”

   “Yes, you heard me right. They’re back in town. But don’t go looking. You won’t find any hint.”

   “Never expected I would.”

   “Good. So? Want to keep up your collection?”

   “You can bring me all?”

   “Well, for a macabre museum, why not?”, the woman smiled sheepishly.

   “You can get me all of it?”, his tone became demanding and she nodded briefly, but earnest. “And you’re sure you want nothing in return?”

   “Like what?”

   “Oh I dunno – a coffee?”

   “I don’t drink coffee.”, she said soft.

   “Or a beer?”

   “No alcohol either.”

   “A trip to Disneyland?”

   “I entered the British Ministry of Magic without being noticed before I went through that door we’re standing by. The gates of a No-Maj theme park are no obstacle for me. Besides, I was there already.”

   “Liked it?”

   “Quite, yes.”

   “Okay. Then say something.”

   “I said, I don’t want anything in return.”

   “I insist.”

   “Your look tells me no different.”

   “Well?”

   “A hug?”, she smirked but Harry found her shocked when he actually hugged her; though positively.

   “Thanks.”, he whispered, surprised himself how wonderful the arms of a stranger on his back could feel, but maybe it was only due to his current average state of miserable – which also seemed to be fading away now. “What was your name again?”

   “I didn’t say a name.”, they separated.

   “Will I ever get one?”

   “Call me Ju, if you like.”

   “Ju?”

   “Ju.”, the blonde smiled so gentle now it didn’t fit to her face at all.

   “And where does that Ju come from?”

   “A large, boring town, somewhere in Britain, with a pond and a willow at the outskirts.”

   “You don’t look British. You don’t sound British at all.”

   “Well, that’s ’cause you’re just looking at the face of a farmer who lives a solitary life in the middle of a Texan nowhere and has no clue her brush’s missing a hair since this morning.”, even if he had wanted it, Harry wouldn’t have been able to stop the chuckle from bursting out of him.

   “Should’ve known.”

   “You should.”

   “Yeah.”

   “You should also get your buttocks out there and play some chess with your ginger friend. He looks far too unemployed for having a serious job.”

   “Now does he?”

   “And how he does.”

   “I don’t reckon, I’ll see you again?”, she sighed with a smirk.

   “I won’t steal another hair of hers,”

   “That’s likely.”

   “Although I must admit, that accent’s sorta fun. Right. Keep your eyes open for an owl.”

   “When?”

   “Oh – every now and then?”, she merely shrugged and vanished. “Bye, sweetheart.”, she added when she pushed the door open and left without any sign of ever having been there but the folder and the dazzled faces of Harry’s boss and colleagues.

   “And?”, Neville frowned, still standing where he had left him and Harry strutted out with the folder held to his chest, very much like Hermione would do it with some of her beloved; or not; books.

   “Chess.”

   “Chess?”, Robards gazed after him, watching him sit down by Ron’s desk.

   “Chess. Come on, Ron. Get out your board. It’s an official order.”

   “From whom?”

   “Ju.”, Harry grinned like a child.

   “Who the heck is – ”

   “Ju.”, he repeated, giving him a nod that said as much as `if you don’t know whom I mean, I can’t help you´. “So?”

   “So?”, Ron moaned, being as confused as everyone else in the large room.

   “Chess.”

   “Do I have to kick Luna next time I see her?”

   “No.”

   “Are you sure?”

   “Absolutely.”

   “And – drunk?”

   “Negative.”

   “Stoned?”

   “Never been.”

   “On Felix Felicis?”

   “Natural luck, rather.”, Harry smirked mock ponderingly.

   “And what’s that?”, Ron attempted to tap a finger on the folder that laid on his desk now, but Harry’s flat hand sped down on it.

   “Mine.”, he snarled grim.

   “Bloody hell!”, his friend gasped.

   “Precisely. Now get out your chess board. I need to slay some pawns.”

 

 

~~#~~

 

 

 

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