The Girl in the Tower
~
Chapter 5: Flashes of Providence
~
Sara dropped onto the bed. "I wanted to stay in a nice hotel, but Severus wouldn't hear of it."
Harry smiled. "I don't care where we stay."
"I feel the same way, Harry. It doesn't matter."
Harry lowered his eyes and studied the bed cover. "Besides, the Leaky Cauldron is good enough. And the rooms are cheap. I doubt I could afford to pay even a fourth of what a Muggle hotel would want. Especially a fancy one. Ron, either."
"We have plenty of money at our disposal."
"But it's your parents’ money. You should save it. I've got plenty of wizard gold myself, you know."
Sara laughed. "I've got more money than I could ever spend, so it looks like I'm going to need some help. After all, Hermione and I can only wear so many new clothes."
"Hermione! She let you buy her things?"
"Not at first. In fact, she said the same thing you did. She didn't give in until I explained that I hated the money, especially the life insurance, and it only brings me pleasure when I share it with the people I love, the way my Mom and Dad did. It's what money's for, Harry. Bringing happiness and comfort. It's what my father always said about it."
Harry understood her feelings about her parents' life insurance, remembering how he'd given away a thousand Galleons for winning the Triwizard Cup, which he'd only gotten because Cedric Diggory, who was to be co-champion, had been murdered. He also recalled his frustration when no one would take it from him and his relief when Fred and George finally did. Harry took her hand and softened his words. "Don't forget security. You'll be old someday, Sara. One-hundred and twenty according to Dumbledore. You have to be careful."
"Have I mentioned that my father was an investment broker on Wall Street? He didn't just work in an office, Harry. He owned it. There’s a fortune at my disposal. Enough to satisfy our every whim, within reason, and still be sizable."
"But where did he get it all? Surely not just the stock market?"
"Remember when I read your palm?"
"Of course."
"Gypsies, as you know, are historically great fortune tellers, seers of the future. While we no longer wander the earth in caravans, the blood is still strong. My father was in a profession where prediction is everything. He had an ‘in,’ you might say."
"All right, then. You have money. But Sara, I can't have my girlfriend support me. It's wrong. I'll make my own fortune, and I'll build you a house. A big house, on the ocean. And I'll put all kinds of spells on it so that no one can ever hurt you while you're there."
"What will it look like?"
Harry’s smile grew. "It will be made of stone, like Hogwarts, so it will stand for many years. And inside there'll be lots of rooms for you to wander, none of them empty. There will be hidden passages and vast, underground rooms where we’ll hide all our secret treasures."
"Will there be windows in this grand palace?"
"Lots of them! Some so big you can sleep on the sill."
"Hmmm. And flowers?"
"Millions."
She laughed and threw her arms around his neck, causing him to fall flat on his back. "I think I'll take it, Mr. Potter."
Harry grinned. “You’re in a rather good mood.”
"Let’s just say that your little storybook princess has turned back into a frog."
"Then I should kiss you again. Who wants a frog?"
"We only have a moment, you know. We'll be leaving for Diagon Alley soon."
"I'll get school supplies some other time."
"Well I won't!"
Harry grinned. "What do you mean? You don't need many supplies for tower-dwelling, even if it is in a school."
Sara laughed and shook her head in disbelief. "I never told you! How could I forget?"
"Forget what?"
"I'm to be normal again, Harry! It was all Snape's idea, actually, so you can thank him. I'll be attending school with you in September, posing as an apprentice to Professor Trelawney! Only I can't let on that I'm American. Uncle Albus said I need to blend in."
"Sara! That's great!" Harry gave her his biggest hug yet. "You'll have to teach Trelawney a thing or two as well. She can't predict the future any better than I can. But how are we to behave if you're an apprentice and I'm a student? It wouldn't be proper and I doubt Dumbledore would approve-“
"Harry, I'm to be a student, too! Uncle Albus and I already thought of that. Trelawney only has so many classes a day. After all, it's not the most popular subject, so we'll be taking a potions class together, as well as History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts. He insisted on that."
Harry was so thrilled by the news, all he could do was kiss her until she sighed and pulled him closer.
"You know, we're not at school and Dumbledore's the last thing on my mind."
"Are you getting a little impatient?"
"Not at all. Well, yes."
Sara laughed. "Me, too."
There was a light knock at the door and Ron popped his head in. "Uhh… sorry… Hermione insisted I ask the pair of you if we’re ready to go. I bloody well hope so. Then maybe she’ll glare at somebody else for a bit!"
Sara raised her voice and called to Hermione in the hallway. "Come in here!”
Hermione appeared at Ron's side, dressed in less conservative clothing than she'd worn to meet the Dursleys. Sara's expression turned panicked when she saw her. "I forgot to change! I can't walk around Diagon Alley dressed like a librarian! I'll just be a minute." Sara leapt to her feet and hurried around the room, gathering garments, before disappearing into the bathroom.
Hermione held aloft a folded parchment. "Got your list, Harry?"
He rolled across the bed and onto his feet without grace, and then set to rummaging through his backpack. "Somewhere…"
* * *
The sun-baked cobbles in Diagon Alley lent an added warmth to the day, and Harry smiled at the evening. Sara held his hand and her eyes glanced about with delight, like one enchanted, the way Harry’s had so long ago as he walked alongside a gentle giant, staring in wonder at these strange and wonderful new surroundings. Shop windows drew her greatest interest and Sara smiled as she walked beside him.
Sara also spent too long in every store. She and Hermione lingered in one establishment neither Ron nor Harry had ever been in before. It was expensive and the merchandise finely tailored. Robes of silk, velvet, and satin were abundant and the girls perused the racks, trying what seemed like everything on.
Harry and Ron decided to wander around the men's section, even though they had no plans to buy anything, and browsed without looking. Harry's eyes roamed over shelves of pricey odds and ends. (He had no idea why they were in the men's section, except perhaps as gifts for women.) His eyes lingered on one item in particular. Sara’s birthday was coming up. He’d planned to get something by owl order, but the beauty of this item drew him. The craftsmanship was aces, beyond anything he’d ever seen before, and it was many, many centuries old. Perhaps even millennia. It was bound to be far more than he could afford.
The light of many candles glinted amber in the smooth glass. His fingers brushed the raised symbols at the base and his mind was flooded with thoughts of Sara. She would want this, Harry thought, and it was a nice gift. A small slip of parchment lay beside it and, checking the price, Harry sighed and moved on with shoulders slumped.
Ron glanced across the room and shook his head. "I don't know why they're trying on those robes. All we need are the ones for school. We should be at Madam Malkin's! I reckon girls must like trying on clothes they don’t need. They’ve been at it long enough, don’t you think?”
Harry chuckled. "I’d rather not have an opinion on this one."
"Who really wears robes now, anyway? Just the old ones, mostly. I mean, we all have them, but you can't exactly wear them around."
A female voice made Ron and Harry turn on their heels as the girls came up from behind. "Can’t wear what around?”"
"Sara and I found the most beautiful robes! See? They match our outfits."
"We found some for the two of you as well, since you couldn’t be bothered to look for yourselves. Hermione and I decided we should all be in vogue while we're here. This is a wizarding market, you know, and none of us wore robes."
"No sense looking like Muggles. We can do that anytime."
Ron protested. "I'd have to work all year to afford one of these!"
"It was my idea, so it's my pleasure, Ron."
"But Sara. You can't!"
"Why not? Don't you think it would be a little fun to walk around in the finest wizard robes? In the middle of London no less?"
"Well, yeah, sort of. It's just, well, it's not like you want to buy us a Butterbeer or chocolate frogs!"
Sara’s smile faded from her eyes. “Are you refusing my gift?”
Harry put a hand on his friend's arm. "Ron, don't worry about it."
"Well, all right I guess, as long as Harry's going along with it.”
* * *
Ron and Harry stood before the mirrors, uncomfortable, while Hermione and Sara looked over the robes they now modeled. Ron's was dark blue, Harry's black and green.
Sara gave them both an approving smile. "Very nice. Conservative. Distinguished, but not elderly. I love the fabrics. Hermione, don’t you just love these fabrics?"
“Um... I’m not terribly familiar with fabrics, but they do look nice.”
Sara’s eyes widened as she looked at Hermione. “We forgot to tell them about the books!”
Hermione’s eyes lit up with the thrill of something only just realized. “Get them out! I can’t wait to show them!”
Sara handed Ron, then Harry, packages from a bag Hermione held open. "We sent Flourish and Blotts an owl a couple of weeks ago, asking them to get us these. They come with a binding spell!"
Hermione interjected. "When they're used together, they'll perform some special charm or spell, whatever we decide. I’ve got tons of ideas!"
Ron grinned and tore the wrapping over the cover. “Mine’s really nice! It’s kinda furry or something! It won’t bite me, will it?”
Harry laughed, remembering his misadventures with Hagrid’s choice of schoolbook. “Maybe you should pet the spine, just in case.”
Hermione saw a good moment to share some knowledge and took it without hesitation. “It’s unicorn skin. Since unicorns are the world’s most magical animals, their skin is quite useful in the making of enchanted objects. Even a tiny snippet of unicorn leather is enough to hold or channel the most powerful magic. These are no ordinary books, Ron. There aren’t many unicorns left. It’s beyond illegal to kill one, and so they have to wait for one to die. We’re lucky to have these.”
Harry grinned as his interest in making the spell books blossomed. "They’ll be a set, with our own magic linking each book to the others." Harry’s eyes glassed over as he dreamed of the possibilities. “But what spell should we use? It has to be something great. Something useful. Something all four of us want.” Harry attention snapped back to his friends, who were marveling over the beauty of their books, though Sara warned them not to touch them or remove the wrapping just yet. Harry looked down, through a torn ear of parchment, at his own book. The unicorn leather was pristine, white, and he fought the urge to run his fingers over it. “We need to think about what to put in these. They shouldn’t be second rate.”
Hermione smiled. “I’m sure we’ll do just fine, Harry. You especially.”
“I doubt my book will be better than anything you write. I don’t even care to read much. At least not as much as you like to.”
"We’ll worry about it later. Come on, there's lots to do yet."
Ron indicated the windows. "But it's late! Hermione, it's dark outside! School stuff will have to wait until tomorrow. I doubt anything's even open now."
"Who said anything about school supplies? I said lot's to do. They put in a little cafe' since last year. Let's have a potion or two in our flashy new robes. It will give us a chance to look at these." She held up her book, still wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.
Sara turned toward the door and spoke over her shoulder. "After that, we'll go back to our rooms, drop this stuff off, change clothes, and go to the club up the street. Anyone feel like dancing?"
Hermione fell in beside her. "We don't want to keep Harry up too late. He works fourteen hours a day, after all, and he walks back and forth to work. I doubt his feet could hold up much longer."
Ron paled with anger. "They won't even drop you at your job?! Those people, Harry, I'm glad they're not my relatives."
"I'm not tired," Harry lied. He was exhausted, but didn't want to spoil the evening.
Sara studied his face, seeing the dark circles and his heavy, weary eyes. "Hermione, Ron, you’ll have to go without us. We could all use some time to ourselves, anyway. We'll hit the town tomorrow night, when we've got him rested up."
Sorry to have let her down, Harry sighed. "Are you sure? Really, I'll be fine, once I've got my second wind."
Sara smiled and squeezed his hand as they took seats around a table outside Mystic’s Cafe. "Of course I'm sure. Now let’s unwrap our books."
Hermione sat up in surprise. "The circle changed color! It was black, but now it's silver!"
Ron beheld a blue circle on the cover of his book, which held another gold, palm-sized circle inside it. "Mine, too!"
Sara laughed. "Mine turned purple! Of course it did!"
Harry looked confused. He held his book out for them to see. "Mine's still black. Did I do something wrong?"
Hermione touched his hand, as if in congratulations. "It means yours is the key, Harry! There will be something special about yours; we just don't know what it is yet."
Ron frowned. "You've got all the luck, mate. I wish I'd won that lottery."
"It means he's the strongest. It's no surprise."
Harry said nothing, just looked at the book in his hands. How could he be stronger than Sara? She was an Elemental and he, well; he spoke Parseltongue and had a scar.
Ron considered his. "They're not very thick. You should have ordered two for Hermione."
"Or three," Harry added.
"No need. When you run out of room, or if you want to add between pages, more pages will appear. Make your book as long as you'd like. Now," Sara addressed the three of them. "If you press your palm to the large gold circle on the front, according to the bookseller, the image that represents you will surface."
Ron grinned. “Cool! Hermione, we’re going to have symbols!”
They all laid on their hands and the gold rearranged itself, tickling under their skin. Sara took hers away first.
Hermione tried to see across the table. "What is it?"
"An old Gypsy symbol my grandmother taught me. It means earth, wind, fire, and water. The elements. What did you get, Hermione?"
"It's an owl. I don't get it."
"An owl is a sign of wisdom," Harry explained. "I got a lightning bolt, like my scar. Ron?"
"It's a chess piece. The knight."
Sara smirked at Ron. "I always thought you were the sneaky sort. I'll bet it has to do with that chess game you played your first year. Uncle Albus told me about it. He was most impressed with your comprehension of logic and your ability to strategize. That's your symbol, then. The knight."
Ron grinned again. "That’s bloody acceptable, that is."
Hermione sat back after looking at everyone’s books. "Now, all we have to do is fill the pages."
Snape approached the table, having apparated into the little cul-de-sac. He narrowed his eyes at Harry, and then looked to Sara for answers. "Has anyone noticed that it has been full dark for hours?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "You found us, didn't you?"
"Now Severus, you know I'm safe with Harry."
"Maybe so, maybe not. We all know he's been lucky in the past." Snape looked to Harry, who glared back. "But luck has a way of... running out."
"Sit down, then, if you’re staying. And the two of you can stop glaring at each other. After all, it's not accomplishing anything, is it?"
Harry didn't drop his eyes until Snape looked back to Sara. "I would be more comfortable knowing where you are after sunset."
Snape walked to the farthest table and sat, facing away, ignoring them. A drunken man sat on a bench outside a pub called Slytherin Spirits with a sack on the ground beside him. He called out with a silly grin. “Hey! It’s Snape the Scary Ape! Want a beer, Snapey-poo?”
Snape sneered in his general direction. “How would you like to end up inside that bottle, Mr. Warf?”
A young girl in her early teens came through the door of the pub and said something to the drunken man, then smiled across the expanse. “Hello, Professor.”
“Good evening, Slyth. Might I suggest to your aunt that she stop serving wayward Hufflepuffs?”
Slyth laughed. “Mystic says hi. See you in September, Professor!” Slyth and another girl of similar age, who waved once at Snape, giggled and pulled the man called Warf into the pub. Snape picked up The Daily Prophet, mumbling to himself and pretended to read.
Hermione turned back to the group. "Where were we? Oh yes, the books. Has anyone gotten much done yet?"
Harry sighed. "Not really. I don't have much time, but I've compiled a few things. It's mostly in my head."
"That sounds like me, too. I haven't got much time, either."
Sara sipped her potion. "I hate to admit it, but I've got almost fifty pages."
Hermione was incredulous. "Fifty! I'm lucky if I've filled half that! And now I have to copy it all into this book. The good news is we have all of next year before we use the binding spell."
Sara smiled at Harry and Ron. "That's right. We use it the last day of school. So after we get back to Hogwarts, you two, no more slacking."
* * *
Sara was asleep when the light knock came at the door and Harry slid off the bed with care. Sara stirred, but didn't wake.
Harry pressed his ear close to the door and whispered to the person on the other side. "Who is it?"
"I'd like a word with you, Potter."
It was Snape. "It's late." Harry rubbed his eyes. "Can't it wait until morning?"
"Do you really think I would I be here if it could?"
Harry eased the door open and slipped into the hall, wearing his pajamas and barefoot. "Yes?"
"Since you appear to be sleeping in Sara's room, there's something I thought you should know. A hooded wizard in a black cloak that seemed to hover was seen within the hour. He was merely glimpsed, but fits the description Sara gave."
Harry scratched his head. "Gave when?"
"After she awoke to find him standing over her bed, of course."
"He came in?"
Seeing that this was news to Harry, Snape decided to make him squirm a little. "I understand her screams woke everyone, including half of Hogsmeade. It took the Headmaster nearly an hour to coerce her out of the closet. She'd hidden herself in there, buried under a pile of clothing."
"Was she hurt?"
"Of course not. The Headmaster came to her rescue on his flying carpet. Unfortunately, he'd been fast asleep."
"That was why he made her close the doors!"
"You don't mean to say, Potter, that Sara didn't tell you any of this?"
Harry said nothing.
"Funny, I was almost fooled into thinking she trusted you."
Harry narrowed his tired eyes at Snape. "She didn't want to worry me. I was home in case you forgot."
"Yes, of course you were. Working I've heard, at a Muggle job. Frivolous waste of time, Potter."
"I'm sorry you think so, Professor, but I have to make money somehow."
Snape sneered. "I suppose you do. And what a coincidence, the headmaster's niece just happens to be well off."
Harry scowled, taking a step closer. "You’re just jealous. Nobody loves you, except maybe your little pet Malfoy."
Snape stepped eliminated the gap between them. His black eyes fixed on Harry, piercing and hateful. He was angry, but there was something else in his countenance. Something that was hurt. Harry smiled.
Snape spoke through clenched teeth. "You're rather brave lately. Perhaps you should take more care with what you say."
A sharp, stabbing pain ripped through Harry's scar, blurring his vision and he gasped. His hands flew to his forehead.
"What is it?"
Before Harry could answer, Sara was screaming inside the room. Harry bolted through the door with Snape right behind him. It was dark, but Harry could just make out the cloaked figure, only feet from Sara as she cowered in the bed, its arms raised in a threatening gesture.
"Sara!"
“Lumos!”
The figure hissed.
Without warning, Snape moved in front of Harry, restraining him with one arm. The other extended a wand. Snape had barely opened his mouth to speak when he found himself propelled backward, almost taking Harry down with him, but Harry only stumbled. Snape landed hard, but was still conscious. He climbed back onto shaky feet. Harry never took his eyes off the intruder. He had no wand and now neither did Snape. Harry hadn't felt so disarmed since battling the basilisk and told himself not to panic in silence.
The cloak hissed again, the voice deep and menacing, snake-like. "Harry Potter!"
Harry glanced at Sara with her knees and the covers pulled up to her chin, staring at the figure and shaking in fear. He seethed with anger. "What do you want, Voldemort?"
"You think Severus Snape can protect you from me?"
"I don't need protection from you."
Voldemort laughed, raspy and thin. "You know, Potter, luck will not always be yours."
“What do you want with Sara.”
“Hasn’t Dumbledore told you by now?”
"You want whatever it is you think Sara has."
"Yessss. An Elemental. So very rare to find one so… gifted. She's the perfect host."
“A perfect what?? Well, come to think of it, she is quite gifted with a tea service. However, all you’ll be served tonight is a warning. Stay away from her or you’ll deal with me.”
Snape sneered. “And me.”
Voldemort drew back and, just as Harry moved to counter, Voldemort blew straight out the window on a gust of air, backward, a bad actor on a rubber tether.
Sara looked from Harry to Snape. “I’m sorry! I thought he was going to hurt one of you! I didn’t mean to use the wind. I saw his wand and I got so scared, Severus! It just… happened!”
Snape wiped a trickle of blood from his brow. “It’s all right, Sara. It happened so fast, I doubt he’ll know who did it or how it was done.”
Harry glanced at Snape. "You okay?"
"Of course I am!"
Harry turned toward the frightened girl who stood beside the bed in a state of shock, staring at the billowing curtains.
"He’s gone, Sara. He won’t be back tonight.” Harry walked to where she was and put his arms around her. Sara collapsed against him, bursting into tears the moment her head touched his shoulder.
“He came right to the bed! I woke up and he was looking at me with those horrible red eyes."
"It's over now."
"I couldn't find you, Harry. I thought you were dead!"
"I'll never leave you again. I promise. Not for any reason."
Snape walked to the window and looked out, leaving his back to them. Harry kissed her head and stroked her hair as lightning lit up the night sky.
Sara's voice was a little steadier when she spoke again, though she clung to Harry, drawing comfort from him. "He tried to make me defend myself and I almost had to. Thank Merlin you came when you did, or he’d know what I was for sure. When I saw you were gone I thought he’d killed you!"
"I'm sorry, Sara, I was just outside the door. I was talking to Snape."
Sara sniffled. "He was waiting for you to leave. I don't know how he found me so soon. It usually takes weeks. Harry, we've only been here six or seven hours."
The thought had already occurred to Harry, who shot a poison glance at Snape's back. "Someone must have known we were coming."
* * *
"But who, Harry?" Ron asked, chewing his ham sandwich. "Who would tell You-Know-Who where Sara was?" He swallowed. "After all, no one knew we were coming here except Dumbledore and Snape."
Harry scowled. "Exactly. Who else has ties to Voldemort? Snape bears his mark. It couldn't be anyone else."
"But we thought that before, Harry," Hermione reasoned. "And we were wrong."
Sara sighed and tossed her napkin on the table. "I can't believe it. It simply can't be Severus. There are other possibilities."
Ron bit into his sandwich again. "Like what?"
Sara sipped her water and considered the options. "The simplest explanation is that we were followed.”
Hermione leaned in and lowered her voice. "That's true. Voldemort could have had someone watching Hogwarts. Dumbledore did sense something in the forest, after all."
Even Ron saw the logic in the new scenario. "Sara and Snape took the train into London. It would have been easy to follow them."
Sara turned her gaze across the table. "Harry. It might not have been Severus. Best not to jump to conclusions."
"But why didn't he kill Snape when he had the chance? All he did was knock him down! Snape betrayed him, remember, and we all know what happened to the betrayers when Voldemort regained power last time.”
"Perhaps he was afraid you would try to protect Snape? He fears you, Harry, it's no secret."
"Or maybe he hasn't regained power? Look, it makes sense. I've encountered him many times and I know he's grown stronger, but he's only a shadow of himself. That's why he’s after me. He was trying to get me to display my powers last night. He wants to be sure of what I am. Snape knows what I am. Knows it as fact. The information couldn't have come from him."
Harry slumped against the back of his chair, defeated. "I still think it was Snape. He's already proven himself a traitor and he's such a creep anyway." Harry hesitated. His friends were all staring at him with intensity in their eyes and urgency in their collective manner. Ron drew a subtle finger across his neck and Hermione cleared her throat, motioning to the side as she pretended to arrange her hair.
"He's behind me, isn't he?"
"Good guess, Potter. Sorry to interrupt. As you were saying?"
"I wasn't saying anything that isn't already common knowledge. I think maybe you led him here."
"Or maybe you're an idiot, Potter. If you want to blame me, then go ahead, but I'm afraid you would be quite wrong."
Hermione hesitated. "What do you think, Professor? How did he find us?"
Snape exhaled as he thought it over. "I don't know, to be honest. The Headmaster is looking into it as we speak, but he seems to think we were followed from Hogwarts." He moved to look Harry in the eye. "After all, the simplest explanation tends to be the right one."
"Then why lead me out of the room in the dead of night? Except to give Voldemort the opportunity to get to Sara?"
"That was poor judgment. I should have come into the room, but I'm sure you can understand why I would be... uncomfortable with that."
"I swear, if I find out you put her in danger, I'll kill you!"
Snape sighed, all the command gone from his voice. "People can change, Potter." He turned to face the others. "Be alert today, all of you. I'll meet you at The Leaky Cauldron at nightfall. Do not be late." Snape turned and left without another word.
Hermione whispered across the table. "Harry really! Accusing Snape? What were you thinking?"
Ron looked at his friend and cringed. "Harry, we don't even know if it was him!"
Sara turned to Harry with angry eyes. "There's no evidence of anything, Harry, and I think you just hurt his feelings. He's right, you know. People can change, and I for one think he has. So does Uncle Albus. His opinion must mean something to you, even if mine doesn't!"
Harry pushed his plate away and left the table without responding. In fact, he had no idea what had prompted him to accuse Snape of betrayal. He thought perhaps his personal feelings were clouding his judgment, for Snape was right. It was most likely that they had been followed. Hermione was also right. The last time they thought Snape a traitor he saved Harry's life and thwarted an attempt to steal the Sorcerer's Stone.
Harry found himself in the restaurant's bar and collapsed onto a stool, depressed. Now Sara was mad at him, Ron and Hermione thought he was out of line and Snape thought he was an idiot. Sometimes, he thought, it's better to keep your mouth shut.
Harry thought over his recent behavior, wondering what had prompted him to threaten Snape. It was unlike him to be so hostile. His dislike for the man was immense, but he had no intentions of killing him. Even if he did turn out to be a traitor. Harry let his head fall into his hand. What was wrong with him? He had been working a lot, he thought, and he'd missed Sara. Seeing the fear and helplessness in her eyes last night, cowering before Voldemort, had been too much. He lashed out at Snape because he was angry with himself for not being there at that crucial moment, and needed to assign blame. He'd left her alone and defenseless, asleep, and foolishly shut the door behind him. And for what? To again indulge himself in slighting Snape? Arguing over nothing?
"Wallowing, Potter?"
Snape was behind him again. "Stop doing that, it's creepy."
Snape slid onto the stool next to him and, for the first time, Harry noticed he was wearing Muggle clothes and looked pretty normal in them. His expression was softer than usual and Harry let his guard down. He was sorry about what he'd said, but couldn't bring himself to apologize.
Snape ordered a drink and waited for it to arrive before turning his attention back to Harry. "Where are your friends, Potter?"
Harry tipped his head in the direction of the dining room. "Probably finishing lunch. They're all mad at me for what I said to you."
Snape lowered his voice. "You were right last night, but, for some unknown reason, it bothers me to know that you believe I would put Sara in danger. I would cut this mark from my arm if I could. There is no potion or spell that can erase it. I made a mistake in my youth that I've paid for a thousand times over and in every aspect of my life. I have learned that there are more important things than vengeance and anger. That girl you say you love is one of them."
Harry sighed. "I just needed to blame someone for my own mistake. I never asked you to come in when you came to the door. I didn't want to wake Sara and I was so tired that I wasn't thinking. It's my fault, really. Even if you had led Voldemort there I should have been ready for it."
"Then we're both to blame. After all, I was the one who promised her uncle no harm would come to her. It was my responsibility, not yours. Now, unless you plan to kill me now, I think I'll be on my way."
Harry tried to smile. "I didn't mean it, Professor. I was just angry. Maybe I’ll kill you when we have our duel."
"It's a date, Potter." With that, Snape left.
Harry went to find Sara so he could apologize. He'd only taken a few steps when she came into the room, looking anxious.
“We thought you’d left!"
"I was talking to Snape. It's all sorted out."
"Good. Look, I know you're worried, Harry, but you have to remember that he's on our side."
"I'm sorry, Sara. It's just that after last night, with everything that happened, I came a little unhinged. I don't want anything to happen to you."
Sara smiled. "I know, Captain. Now let's hit the town."
* * *
Sara and Hermione had brought dresses with them, but Harry and Ron didn't have a suit, so Sara took them to Harvey Nichols on Knightsbridge. They'd only come for two outfits, but Sara and Hermione had a great time picking out clothes for them and the staff could barely keep up. At first, Harry and Ron had protested, but they eventually succumbed to the shopping spree. By the time they'd left, they had everything from eveningwear to shorts and sunglasses. They could barely fit it all in the car and even the back seat was crammed with bags and boxes.
Sara rented a hotel room, just so they could take a quick swim in the pool, shower, and change clothes. Harry and Ron put on their Versace suits while the girls dressed in the bathroom. Ron admired himself in the mirror and Harry stood next to him, smiling, and pleased with his own appearance.
"We look bloody good, Harry," Ron admitted, turning this way and that. "We could feed a small country on what these clothes cost, but I'm not complaining."
"I really like this tie." Harry straightened it a little in the mirror.
Ron sighed. "Mum's going to kill me. She'll think I robbed Gringotts or something."
The girls came out of the bathroom, looking exquisite in evening dresses and sandals, their hair perfect.
"Don't move," Ron told them and they stopped where they were, "Let's all just stand here and admire each other." Of course, everyone laughed, including Ron, who obviously felt great in his new clothes. "You look fabulous. Both of you."
Harry smiled. "Is there a word for 'better than fabulous'?"
Sara grinned. "We're all a bunch of hotties. Now let's go. We have to be back in only a couple of hours. Bad enough we had to rush our sightseeing. We're not rushing through dinner, too."
* * *
They ate at the world-famous Criterion, under incredible gold ceilings and lush, rich decor. It was a high-society crowd, but they managed to draw smiles and appreciative glances from everyone they passed. Harry and Ron followed Hermione and Sara, who smiled in quiet conversation as they followed the maître d.
Ron nodded and smiled as they made their way to the table, and spoke to Harry in between. "I never thought this would happen to me. I mean, it's so nice to be accepted. No one here knows my family's poor, no one's snickering at worn out hand-me-downs. This is a dream, Harry. It can't be real."
"I know how you feel, Ron. Believe me. Look at this place!"
"It's like The Prince and the Pauper. They think I'm one of them, but I'm not."
"Sure you are, Ron. It's only a matter of clothes. They're just people after all."
Ron grinned. "And Muggles at that!"
After being seated and perusing the menu, they ordered sodas and talked as they sipped them, Sara using her best English accent. She had only a couple of weeks to make it a permanent habit, but still slipped in and out of it all the time. It would take work and constant reminders from her friends if she was to succeed with her facade at Hogwarts.
They enjoyed a five-course meal and dessert before they felt they had to leave. The sun was setting and none of them wanted to upset Snape again, especially since Voldemort had come after Sara.
Outside, they encountered a man with a camera, trying to peddle photographs to the restaurant's patrons. He was down on his luck for certain, his clothes full of holes and his shoes nearly falling apart. The man’s hair fell in his eyes, and his beard had grown wild. He was snubbed by anyone he approached. Sara, however, walked right up to him.
"You’re doing photographs?"
He sighed, dejected. “I was trying to. Funny, the way people run away from a man for being poor, even when he’s out trying to make an honest living. Perhaps they’d think better of me if I stole myself a nice suit.”
“Yes, they would. But we wouldn’t.”
Ron pushed in front of Sara and held out his hand for the stranger to shake. “No one here looks down on anyone else for being less than perfect, mate. I’m Ron, and I’m rather less than perfect myself.”
The man shook Ron’s hand. “Greg Sanders, and aren’t you the nicest bunch of kids!”
“This is my best mate, Harry, that’s Sara, and Hermione.”
Everyone stepped up to shake Greg’s hand with a kind smile. Sara stopped dead when she touched him, held his hand for a moment, and then stepped back without a word. Harry wondered what manner of images she’d divined from Mr. Sanders, but he knew better than to ask.
“Pleased to meet you all. Can I interest you in a photograph?”
Sara smiled and nodded. "This is a special night, you see, and it would be nice to have something to remember it by."
The scruffy, thirtyish man faltered, appearing crestfallen and depressed by a single thought. "I would require payment in advance. I'm so sorry." He was already disappointed, expecting Sara to extend a quick apology and walk away.
“What is your price?”
Greg was so surprised by the question that he stammered for a moment. “Look, you’re a great bunch, so I’ll make a deal with you. If you can spare a few dollars for a sandwich and a razor, I’ll do the shots for free.”
Sara opened her evening bag and handed him fifty pounds. "We’ll want six copies of the best shot. That should cover your costs, and if they are of good quality, I'll send you the usual professional fee."
The photographer glanced at the money and stuffed it into his pocket with eyes full of humility. He pulled a small pad and a pen from his camera case. "I'll need an address. Or if you'd like, you could pick them up."
Sara frowned, realizing he assumed they wouldn’t want someone like him to know where they lived. "You can mail them. That would be most convenient." She turned to Harry. "Could he send them to you? Would the Dursleys mind, do you think?"
"I'll make sure I get them. It’s 4 Privet Drive in Surrey."
Sara smiled again. "If you would, give us a way to contact you. If we like your work, we may have future need of a photographer."
The man flipped to another page and scribbled something down. He tore off the sheet and gave it to Sara. "This is where I can be reached. Sorry, I don’t have a phone anymore, but I still get the post. And any future business would be greatly appreciated."
Sara glanced at the paper and slipped it into her purse. "All right, Mr. Sanders, where would you like us to stand?"
* * *
"I'll send what I have and you can choose which you want copies of."
"Time is a factor. We’ll be returning to school soon, so I'll trust you to choose the best one and make copies of that."
"Certainly, miss. And thank you. I don't get much business. In fact, they've usually shooed me away by now." He attempted to smile through his shame.
Sara waited while the others shook his hand again and made their goodbyes, heading to the car with their backs to them. Sara smiled as she shook his hand in private, pressing all the money she had left in her bag into his palm. "Our paths will cross again, Greg Sanders. Our meeting was no accident."
Greg put the money in his pocket without knowing she’d given it to him, hypnotized, it seemed, by a strange voice inside his head.
Sara kissed his cheek and smiled as she walked away. She turned when she reached the others and raised a hand.
He waved in reply.
With regret, they headed back to Diagon Alley with the top down. It was a warm, balmy summer night and Harry loved the feel of the wind in his hair, thinking it reminded him of going full speed on his Firebolt, only better.
* * *