Ron scratched his head. “The Weird Sisters? In Diagon Alley? Seems rather odd, if you ask me.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “What better place for them to play than Slytherin Spirits?”
Harry lagged behind with Sara on his arm. “I’ve never been in a pub before.”
Sara turned to him, surprised. “You haven’t? I think I’ve been into every bar and nightclub in Manhattan, not to mention a million others.”
Hermione looked over her shoulder at Harry as they walked through the dark street. “You’ve been in a pub more than once, Harry! We all have! Hogsmeade, remember?”
“You’re right! I have been in a pub! Forgot, I guess.”
Ron chuckled. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Finding out you’re not as ignorant as you thought? Come on, Harry. I hear Fred and George.”
Sara’s eyes lit up. “Look at the crowd! It’s so big that they’re spilling out into the cul-de-sac! Looks like a lot of them are students, or am I wrong?”
“You’re right, actually.” Harry smiled his excitement. “It’s so loud!”
Ron grinned with mischief. “How much money do we have? Fred and George said they’d get us mugs of ale for three Sickles each!”
Hermione’s brow creased with displeasure. “No drinking, Ronald!”
“Why not? I’m of age! Well, I will be soon, anyway. Harry’s of age. He’ll get us drinks, won’t you, Harry?”
“Umm…”
“No Harry won’t! And it doesn’t matter who’s of age, since I am, too. You’re not drinking!”
“Why not? If I want a drink I’ll have one!”
“Then you’ll be having one by yourself. And as for why, because you can’t seem to fathom the concept of moderation!”
Harry thought now was a good time to change the subject. “Look, some of our classmates are here!”
Ron waved to a couple of fifth year Gryffindors, standing in the crowd below the neon green lights of Slytherin Spirits, and fell back to Harry’s side. “Don’t worry, mate. Fred and George will get me all the ale I want, and then you won’t have Hermione on your back about it. I’ll bring some for you, and then you can act all surprised and say you feel obligated to drink it.”
“I’m not deaf, Ronald!”
Harry cringed. “I think it’s best not to. Thanks, but with Voldemort around, I need to keep my wits about me.”
Since the pub was a swarm of people and there was a mob outside, trying to catch a glimpse of The Weird Sisters, Hermione and Sara led their group to the lunch tables outside Mystic’s Café across the cul-de-sac. It was nice just to sit and chat on a warm night with no place to be except right where they were. Students mingled with regular patrons and everyone in sight was having a good time. It was impossible to feel bored. There was too much energy, and to be in the midst of it was exciting in itself.
Sara tipped her chin toward the door of the pub. “There’s Severus. I should let him know where we are. I’ll get us some Butterbeer while I’m up. Sorry, Ron.”
Sara greeted Snape, pointed out the table where her friends still sat, and then pushed her way into Slytherin Spirits. The music rolled over a sea of heads, thick, shocking, and so loud that not even shouting could suffice.
Sara held up three fingers. “THREE BUTTERBEERS AND A GLASS OF RIESLING!”
The dark-haired barmaid smiled and shook her head, pointing at an age bubble that had appeared above Sara’s head the moment she’d stepped up to the bar. It read “16.” She set four bottles of Butterbeer on the bar and shook her head again when Sara protested. Again, she missed Manhattan, where drinks were easy to get. It was embarrassing to be denied a glass of wine when she would come of age in just a few weeks, and frustrating to be treated like a child.
“Let me guess, the witch won’t give you a drink?”
Sara spun around, surprised by the voice, so close to her ear. He smiled and ran a hand through his hair. Sara was shocked. How could he remember her? She’d had his memory erased! “Um… Draco, isn’t it?”
“You looked familiar. Very familiar, actually, and you seem to recognize me. Perhaps you’ll remind me of how we know each other?” Draco turned to the barmaid and ordered a bottle of merlot. His bubble read “17.”
Sara was quick with a lie. “We haven’t met. I’ve seen you in Witch Weekly is all. We don’t know each other.”
“Then I think we should change that.” Draco poured her some wine and handed the glass to Sara, earning a disapproving glance from the barmaid.
Sara emptied the glass, nervous, and looking for an out. She wanted the wine he offered, however, and her eyes fell on the bottle.
“Have some more. You seem to be rather thirsty.” Draco poured again. “I have a private table near the stage. Would you care to join me?”
“Actually, I’m here with someone. Thanks, but I should be getting back now.”
“Will you speak to me again before you leave for the night?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I’ll hold onto this bottle of wine for you. Have a drink with me. Or is that too much to ask?”
“I don’t know.”
Draco held up the bottle. “This “and I“ will be waiting. Right over there.” With that, he disappeared into the crowd.
Sara was quick to turn away. She gathered the bottles of Butterbeer and pushed her way out of the pub.
Fred and George had joined their table and Sara smiled as Ron drank a mug of ale and Hermione was fuming. Sara passed around the Butterbeer and took her seat next to Harry, who smiled at her return and took her hand.
Harry leaned in close and lowered his voice to a whisper. “He’s had two already. She’s ready to perform an Unforgivable Curse on him I think.”
Sara giggled, relishing the warm tingle the wine left in her stomach. She wished she’d stayed for one more glass, but knew she had to finish her Butterbeer before she could go back in for another round; and another glass from Malfoy’s bottle. It was irritating. Malfoy had seen how much she’d wanted his wine, and so he was using it to gain an audience with her. Well, an audience he would get, just long enough to drink another glass or two, and tomorrow she’d request to have his memory erased again. That would teach him to play the puppeteer. Sara buried her anger and turned her attention back to the scene across the table.
Fred and George handed Ron another mug, and dared him to chug it. Hermione shook her head, incensed. “Why must the two of you be such a bad influence? He doesn’t need to be drinking! He’s underage!”
George laughed at her outburst. “Sounds like someone needs to lighten up!”
Fred agreed. “Just because you’re a goody-two-shoes, Hermione, doesn’t mean we all have to be dull and boring!”
Ron gave her a half-drunken grin. “Yeah, Hermione! Would it kill you to have a little fun? Have some ale! Maybe then you won’t be such a drag!”
Hermione shot to her feet.
Harry looked at Sara. “Uh-oh.”
“I’m dull? I’m BORING? Is that how it is? I’m a drag unless I drink some ale?” Hermione grabbed a mug from Fred’s hand and turned to Ron. “Is this what you want, RONALD?”
Harry’s mouth fell open as Hermione drank the entire thing, without stopping for air, and slammed the empty mug down on the table. “THERE! I’ve had some ale! Does this please the three of you? That I’m doing something I don’t like? Am I FUN yet?”
George tried not to smile. “Not quite. Perhaps you should have another.” He held it out and she grabbed it from his hand, her anger more than evident.
“Cheers, Ron! After all, I’m such a DRAG, you know!”
Ron’s grin had disappeared and a look of concern was beginning to replace it. “Hermione, stop.”
“Oh, now you want me to stop? What, this isn’t FUN to you? Is this BORING, too? Funny, last I knew, I was a DRAG for not drinking this foulness, so here goes!”
Harry leaned into Sara’s ear as Hermione guzzled her second mug of ale. “Ten Galleons say it makes her sick.”
Sara sighed. “Ten Galleons say Ron learns his lesson.”
“That, too.”
“And twenty Galleons say they both have a great time before it makes her sick.”
Harry hesitated as Hermione carried on with her tirade and started on a third. “I should stop her.”
“Actually, Harry, you should stay out of it.” Watching Hermione, Ron, Fred and George drinking ale made Sara’s thirst for more wine ever so much sharper. “Stay here and keep an eye on them. I’ll get us another Butterbeer.”
Malfoy’s private table turned out to be occupied by three other Slytherin friends, but Draco was quick to dismiss them when Sara came to stand near-by. He motioned for her to sit, and second thoughts sprinted through her head. If Harry came in, he wouldn’t understand why she was there, and so Sara’s heart raced as she took a seat beside him. The truth was; she wasn’t sure why she was there, either. It was easy to say it was the wine, but part of her knew Harry would get her wine if she swallowed her pride and asked him. Sara knew her drinking displeased him, but drinking with Draco Malfoy would displease him ever so much more. The truth was, she wasn’t there for the wine at all, but because something about him intrigued her, appealed to that side of her that was drawn by darkness. Sara tried to smile. She refused to believe what she knew to be true.
He was gorgeous, ever so much more than good-looking, and Sara had a feeling that he knew it. He was the sort of blond Adonis one expected to see on the glossy pages of a fashion magazine and Sara’s pulse quickened as she recalled his confidence on the roof of her tower, his aggressive manner, and the way she’d been affected by his close proximity that night. However audacious he’d been last time they’d met, however conceited, the dark attraction she felt was undeniable and Sara hated herself for it. Harry despised Draco Malfoy, and so she would also.
The music was muted, as though she’d stepped through a ward, and conversation was uncomplicated.
“I see you’ve returned. I had a feeling you would.”
Anger furled inside her at the sight of his arrogant smile. He knew she’d come back, and he’d been right. “I don’t have long. I was just curious as to why you wanted to talk to me.”
“What is your name?”
Sara ignored the question. “You promised me a glass of wine, or are you the sort who only keeps his word when it serves a purpose?” Recognizing the bitterness and hostility in her words, Sara was quick to smooth it over. “It’s ridiculous. I’ll be of age at the start of term, yet I can’t have a glass of wine a few weeks early. Wizards are too often sticklers for the rules, don’t you think?”
Draco produced a glass and poured from the bottle. “I tend to make my own rules.”
Small talk would buy some time, so Sara asked a stupid question, the answer to which she already knew. “So you found a way to alter your age bubble?”
“Age indicators and restrictors are often foolproof because they expect clever young wizards to try. They tend to think of everything and find a way to prevent it. My age bubble is correct.”
Sara drank as much of the glass as she could without drawing his attention. “It’s just frustrating is all. Thanks for helping me out. I insist on paying you for the bottle.”
“If I was hoping for repayment, I wouldn’t have bought it. Keep your money.”
Sara drank again and refilled the glass herself. “Then what were you hoping for? You don’t seem like the charitable type.”
“I wanted to talk to you. It seemed like the perfect catalyst.”
“Why me?”
“I know you from somewhere. I can’t place it, but I assumed you would be able to refresh my memory.”
“That’s all? I looked familiar? I already told you we haven’t met, so why hold that bottle of wine over my head as a means to get me back here?”
“Because you’re the best looking girl in the room, of course. In fact, you may very well be the best-looking girl in London. Do you fault me for wanting to talk to you? If you ask me, I’d be crazy to stand by and let you walk away.”
“I’m flattered, but I have a boyfriend. I’m sorry.” Sara drank faster, knowing this conversation was nearing its end. “Besides, what makes you think the best looking girl in the room would want to talk to you? Just out of curiosity.”
Draco smiled. “They always do. Why would you be any different?”
Sara laughed, incredulous. Malfoy, it seemed, was taking arrogance to new levels and in a big way. She finished her glass and emptied the bottle into it.
“What’s the hurry? You’ll make yourself sick, drinking like that.”
“That’s really none of your concern.” Sara wished she could take a bit more time with the wine. She was already feeling drunk, a little too drunk in fact, and knew she should slow down, but circumstance prevailed. “Besides, drinking won’t make me sick, but spending another moment in your presence will.” Sara threw a few Galleons on the table and stood. “I hope you choke on that ego, you arrogant creep.” Sara hurried back toward the door with the glass in her hand.
“WAIT!” Draco leapt from his seat and hurried after her. He caught up at the back corner of the bar and spun her around.
“Let go of me this instant!”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I don’t care what you meant to do, I’m offended anyway!” Sara drank the rest of her glass and tossed it aside to shatter, unheard, on the floor of the pub. Her arm came down to strike him, but he caught her wrist and pinned it against the wall.
“Would you just let me explain? I know you and it’s driving me crazy!”
“You don’t know me, so LET ME GO!”
“Please, just come back to the table. I’ve said everything wrong. Let me start over!”
“I’d rather die.”
Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, who was now drunk, grinning from ear to ear, and talking loud enough to be considered obnoxious. “Something’s not right.”
“What do you mean, mate? If you mean that half our classmates are in shock and pointing at Hermione, then you’re quite correct.”
“It’s Sara. She’s been gone a long time. There’s something wrong.” Harry stood, nervous, anxious, and ready to turn and run to her aid. “We have to go!”
“There’s probably a long line at the bar, mate.”
“I can feel it, Ron! She needs help!” Harry walked with a quick pace toward Slytherin Spirits and, although neither took him seriously, Hermione and Ron stumbled along behind.
Hermione tripped over Ron’s shoe and almost fell, but Ron’s arm kept her upright. She laughed and called out to Harry. “Slow down!”
A lone voice came from behind as they passed inside the pub. “Holy Merlins! Hermione Granger’s in the bag!”
Hermione laughed again and shouted over her shoulder. “I’m not as dull as you think!”
Applause sounded from a group of Gryffindors as Ron led her through the door and pulled her along to catch up with Harry, who stopped shoving through the crowd to glance around in search of her. Ron and Hermione fell in beside him.
Harry straightened and pointed over the many heads, toward the back corner of the vast room. “It’s Malfoy!”
Ron and Harry pushed hard through the mass of people as Hermione managed to hurry along behind them. All mirth had left her, her expression turned angry, her eyes intent, and she drew her wand.
Harry broke through and rushed forward. He grabbed Draco by his collar and yanked him backward. Sara tried to run to Ron and Hermione, but Malfoy was quick and managed to stop her.
Harry seethed. "I'm warning you, Malfoy!"
Draco kept hold of Sara's wrist so she couldn't run and turned to face Harry. "Warning me? And what are you going to do, Potter? I know this girl. We're just talking."
"She doesn't want to talk to you."
"Oh yeah? And what do you know about it?” Malfoy gave a hard tug on Sara's arm and she stumbled toward him. He caught her and wrapped his arms around her so she couldn't get away. "Friend of yours, is she?"
Ron stepped up to Harry. "Do something! Or I will!"
Harry spoke through clenched teeth. "Get your hands off her now!"
"I don't think so." Draco grinned and kissed her cheek, just to spite him. Sara turned her face away and made an unsuccessful attempt to struggle.
Harry shook with rage. He grabbed Sara and pulled her free. She hurried to Hermione’s side and Ron stepped in front of the two girls.
Malfoy smirked.
"Touch her again...." Harry said, trying hard to control the fury that rioted inside him. Without thought, his arm was cutting the air and his fist connected with Malfoy's nose with a dull crack! The smile fell from Draco’s face and he crashed to the floor, blood spilling over his mouth and dripping from his chin. Malfoy looked stunned, but more than that, Harry thought, he looked scared.
"What is going on here?"
All heads turned and there was Snape, now only a few feet from Malfoy.
The question was directed at Harry, who regarded his own hand, blood smeared and already swelling, as if it were foreign. He let it drop to his side. "He assaulted Sara again, sir."
Snape glanced at Sara, who stood, shaking, with Hermione's arms around her and Ron fuming nearby. He looked back to Harry. "Why did you not come for me?"
"I handled it."
"How chivalrous. And barbaric." Snape turned to Malfoy, scowling. Draco was still on the floor, bleeding and cradling his nose. "Get up, Draco. You deserved that one."
Malfoy climbed to his feet and glared at Snape. "You're defending Potter?" he yelled from behind his hand. "Really, Professor! He broke my nose! And for no good reason!"
"He had good reason! He was defending the girl you were harassing. I do have eyes, Mr. Malfoy. You will not bother her again or you will deal with me."
"Who is she?" Malfoy demanded. "I know her, but I just can't remember."
Ron interjected, loud, and with an air of righteousness. "She's Harry's girlfriend!"
Snape ignored Ron’s declaration. "An apprentice. To Professor Trelawney. Now come, Draco, I can stop the bleeding. Potter? Take the others and meet me outside."
Malfoy met Harry’s eye as Snape led him to the men's room. "You'll pay for this. I swear you will."
Harry glared, murderous and unafraid, until Malfoy was gone. It was then that he turned to Sara with a gentle tone. She still clung to Hermione. "Are you alright?"
"Yes." Sara stepped away from her friends and hugged him. "I'm glad you hit him, Harry. He frightens me. I couldn't use magic. I didn't know what to do."
Ron slapped Harry on the back in congratulations. "I've wanted to do that for years. Good job, Harry! But do you mind if Hermione and I stay awhile longer? It's too much fun to leave now, especially on account of Malfoy."
Sara grinned. "See you in the morning, but I think my hero and I may be sleeping in."
Ron smiled. "You won't be the only ones! We'll be having brunch, I think."
Harry laughed. "Or lunch. Hermione, our steadfast voice of reason, keep him out of trouble."
"Oh shut-up, Harry! See you later!" With that, Ron and Hermione disappeared back into the throng of people.
"We'd better get outside," Harry said and led Sara back down the stairs. "I'll bet Snape really hates me now. Malfoy's his pride and joy, after all."
"So am I," Sara grinned. "At least according to all of you, and you just saved me from the clutches of evil. Severus was furious, Harry, but not with you."
“I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Would you do me a favor? I didn’t want to ask because I know how you feel about it, but would you get a few bottles of wine? We’ll take them back to our room, since our night’s been ruined.”
Harry stepped up to the bar. His age bubble appeared and Sara saw the barmaid give a brief nod after Harry shouted his request. She really was glad he’d hit Malfoy, but only because of the way he’d acted after Harry arrived. How could she admit that the entire encounter was her own fault? How could she tell him she’d spoken to Draco of her own accord and had been so rude as to be unforgivable? Draco had meant no harm to her. He’d only been trying to make amends and the guilt she felt needed a good dose of alcohol. Harry turned back to her with three bottles of wine. Sara smiled.
* * *
With three empty bottles of wine on the table, Harry locked the door and placed a few spells on it to ensure they wouldn't be disturbed. Sara was unbuttoning his shirt, swaying on her feet as Harry kicked off his shoes.
"Hurry up, Harry! To hell with the door." She kissed him again, pulling his shirt from one arm and then the other, dropping it to the floor.
Harry tossed his wand into the nearest chair and guided her across the room in the dark, stumbling a little. He fumbled with her clothing with no idea of what he was doing or how to go about it.
They fell to the bed amidst a madness unfamiliar, all inhibitions forgotten. The uncertainty that accompanied their innocence was snuffed out and their hands knew a boldness they'd never experienced in the past. They maneuvered around on the bed, twisting and rolling from side to side with one general focus, to get out of their clothes without interrupting their passionate kiss. Sara managed to remove most of Harry's clothes, but Harry's job proved difficult. Women’s garments were complex, he learned, and all but gave up.
"That's it! It's impossible. I'm getting my wand."
Sara laughed a little and sat up. "I'll give you a hand. I need a break anyway, Harry. I'm a little dizzy. I'll be fine in a minute." She swung her feet over the side of the bed and tried to get undressed, but Harry stopped her when he saw she was having difficulty.
With her back to him, he understood the workings of her top and helped her out of it. Harry pulled her nightgown over her head, having found it at the foot of the bed. Her clothes he tossed on the floor.
"Lie down, Sara. I'll get you some water." He helped her onto the pillow, then gently removed her skirt and tossed it to the floor. Her face had gone pale, he noticed, and her eyes unfocused. "I think you just drank too much." He brushed the hair from her face with an amorous hand before stumbling to the bathroom in his shorts.
He found a glass near the sink and ran the water until it was ice cold. Glancing at himself in the mirror, Harry noticed his own face was a little colorless, his eyes reddened and droopy. He looked away, disliking his appearance. When the glass was full, he shut off the tap and returned to the bedside, only to find his drunken beloved fast asleep.
Harry got into bed, unsteady on his feet, and drank the water. He was disappointed, that was for sure, but also a little relieved. Dumbledore's warning had been flashing through his head all night, though he'd done his best to ignore the wise inner voice. Be careful with spirits, Harry. They cloud your judgment and lead to foolish behavior. There are few things worse than regret. Harry doubted there would have been regrets, but tonight had been all about their immense physical attraction and less about their love for each other. He knew, even in his present state, that he wanted it to be more than a frantic moment, half remembered in the morning. He was willing to wait a little longer for it.
Harry put out the candle and curled up next to Sara, drifting off to sleep.
* * *
Harry was standing in the middle of the room. The cool night air drifted in through the open windows, chilling his skin. The sky was clear and full of stars, though the street below was obscured by fog. Something was wrong. Feeling frightened, he turned over in his sleep, his arm coming to rest atop his scar.
Harry looked down at his feet to see the dense London mist rolling across the floor and reached for his wand, but it wasn't there. He wasn't dressed. He looked around the room for his clothes, but couldn't remember where he'd put them. Helplessness and fear invaded him as he came to realize there was something in the room with him, a menace in the darkness, and it meant him harm.
Harry ran to the door and pulled. It was heavy and he could feel the presence right behind him, but the effort he put forth seemed to amplify his struggle. Finally, he wedged it open enough to slip through, but instead of the corridor upstairs in the Leaky Cauldron, he found himself in Sara's tower bedroom at Hogwarts. There was music playing, the melancholy blues song her mother sang, the one he loved so much. Normally, the soothing rhythm calmed and relaxed him, but it drove a spike into his forehead as he made his way into the room. The doors to the roof were open. Fog rolled across the floor. The fire was out and the room was cold. Sara was asleep in the dark and he hurried toward the doors. The room seemed immense, expanded, both Sara's bed and the roof impossibly far away. Something passed through the open door, something black and weightless in the mist. A shadow, slipping along the wall, and Sara lay unaware.
"Sara!" he shouted. "Sara! Wake up!" His words fell flat, heavy as lead, as the music grew louder and his voice was minute and hoarse, barely audible, even to him. He ran faster, but felt as if he were underwater, his legs like rubber, his muscles useless. "HELP!" he yelled, just as the shadow lifted an old fashioned, black revolver and fired. Paralyzed by fear, the bullet tore open his forehead, piercing his brain and the pain was unbearable. Harry felt himself falling backward, and sat up in bed. His hands flew to his scar.
He was disoriented, and the terror of his dream clung to him, his scar still burning as if the bullet was real. Harry turned his throbbing head toward Sara, asleep in the bed next to him and heard a hiss he remembered well.
His wand, he recalled, was tossed absentmindedly on a chair near the door where he couldn't get to it. In the blackness he saw shadowy movement near the other side of the bed, closest to Sara. Harry pushed the remnants of heavy sleep from his mind and jumped to his feet atop the bed. He leapt over her and to the floor with a loud thud, placing himself between Sara and the dark shadow. He felt quite useless without his wand, but pointed his finger, speaking the impediment curse he'd learned for the Triwizard Tournament and the movement all but stopped. Knowing he had to act quickly, Harry turned his hand in the direction of his wand and used a summoning charm, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt it in his hand.
Harry heard a furious hiss and Snape was banging on the door, yelling to be let in. Harry needed help, but couldn't turn away, even for one little Alohamora. His brain was fuzzy from drinking and he couldn't think. Only the simplest spells he'd learned in his first years were coming to him and he felt panic at the edges of his mind, threatening to overcome him. He'd surprised Voldemort, but stupid, childish spells were no solution at all. Either one of them could throw them off with little more than a shrug. He needed something stronger, something clever.
"Don't you ever give up?" he growled at the cloak, stalling for time with his mind racing and Snape throwing himself at the magically sealed door. That was stupid. Harry thought.
He heard a harsh whisper no more than two feet away. "Never."
An idea clicked in Harry's brain and he jumped on it, even if it was more first-year magic. He hit Voldemort with a shrinking spell that reduced him to the size of a puppet, but it wasn't enough.
"Patrificus Totalis!" The cloak stiffened and collapsed to the floor, rigid as stone. Harry was quick to turn his wand on the door. "Alohamora!"
Snape fell into the room, wand in hand.
"Light the candles!" Harry ordered.
Snape waved his wand and the room jumped alight as Harry placed a freezing spell on the little cloak, turning it to a block of ice and was about to try everything else he could think of when Snape's hand fell heavy on his shoulder.
"He's gone, Potter."
Harry blinked. "He can't be! I paralyzed him!"
"Tell me, does your scar hurt?"
Harry sighed. "No. No, it's stopped."
"Is Sara injured?"
"She's fine. She never even woke up."
"Good. Then she doesn't need to know, does she?"
"No. I guess not. It would only scare her."
"All right then, close that blasted window and go back to sleep. He'll not come back tonight. I'll make sure of that." Snape took the little miniature cloak and turned to leave. Not having noticed upon his hasty entrance, he now came to a halt and considered all the clothing scattered haphazardly across the floor. He looked at Harry with a vicious leer of accusation.
Harry sighed; thankful he didn’t have to lie. "Don't jump to conclusions. Nothing happened."
"I should hope not!" Snape growled and took to walking again. He got to the door before Harry stopped him.
"Professor? Can't I return to Hogwarts with Sara? He's sure to come for her again."
"I fear for her safety as well, Potter, but that decision is not mine to make. The Headmaster can protect her. I can assure you of that. Besides, what about your Muggle job? You do need money, after all." Snape grinned, remembering the conversation.
"I have my priorities."
"I'll speak to him, I suppose I could do that, but if I were you I'd expect to be arriving on the train with the rest of the students in September." He shut the door before Harry could try to reason.
Harry locked the windows with a few spells and climbed back into bed. Curling up next to Sara, he wrapped an arm around her and closed his heavy eyes, listening to her slow, steady breaths. She never moved.
* * *
Harry awoke to a heavy head, a sour stomach, and an all over ache that made his previous hangover seem like a pleasant memory. He laid still for a few minutes, Sara asleep beside him, trying to think of a pain banishing charm he could cast on himself, but he came up empty. His intense thirst finally drove him out of bed, careful not to wake Sara.
The sun had made a fourth of its trek across the sky and he seemed to be the only one of his group that was awake. Harry pressed an ear to Ron and Hermione's door and heard Ron's familiar soft snores. Harry backtracked to Snape's room and knocked, careful and light. "Professor? It’s me, Harry.”
Snape opened the door, still dressed in his clothes from last night and wearing a baseball-style cap, his greasy black hair winging out from beneath it. Harry would have laughed if he didn't feel like death.
"What is it?"
"Do you have any aspirin?"
To Harry's surprise, Snape grinned. It was unusual Harry thought, until he realized it was his misery that Snape found amusing. Harry frowned, but waited for an answer.
"I should let you suffer, Potter. However, Sara will be rather disappointed if her last day of freedom is spent inside, so I have prepared a potion for you and your degenerate friends. Come in."
"Was there any more trouble last night?"
"None. Lucky you weren't killed in your condition and Sara as well. In fact, I'm surprised you woke at all."
"Do you really think I could sleep with him lurking about? In the room, no less? You underestimate me, Snape, but for now, be nice to me. I feel like hell."
Snape's smile returned. "Drink this. It should help. Either that or all your hair will fall out. It was late. I can't remember what I threw in that potion."
Snape meant to terrorize him, but he drank the nasty stuff down at once. Harry didn't care if he was bald, as long as he felt better. It was working before he finished the cup and he could feel it making its way through him like a comfortable glow.
"Thank you, sir. I'll leave a note for Sara to come see you. I'm going out for awhile. I have to get her a birthday gift before we go back to school. I saw it on Friday in Diagon Alley."
"Very well, then. Take some and leave it by the bed. I'll be getting some sleep before we return. Leave this outside Weasley's door." He handed Harry a large vial. "Now go away, Potter."
"Yes, Professor." Harry closed the door behind him.
Sara's birthday was only a couple of days into the semester and Harry had seen the perfect thing. It was expensive, though, and he had to make a trip to Gringotts Bank before going back to the store where they'd bought their robes, name unremembered. Harry had worn his new robe this morning, partly because Sara had bought it for him, partly because he didn't know when he would get to wear it again except after graduation, but mostly because he wanted to look like he could afford to shop in that store. He could; of course, he had a ton of Galleons, and didn't mind spending them on Sara. He wanted to get her the nicest things, which is a lot of the reason why he had worked so hard this summer, but he cared more about the Muggle money. He doubted he would have parted with so much of that.
As he stood in the men's section of the shop, regarding what he'd come for, an idea came to him. Sara's father had made millions investing in the stock market. Why couldn't he? He did have a seer at his disposal who could make the required predictions, after all. He could multiply the comfortable sum he had in the bank and speed the purchase of their house by several years. But was it dishonest? It seemed so. He wanted to make his money, not steal it. Did that make Sara's father a thief? Harry wouldn't think of it. Whatever her father had done was irrelevant now. He sounded like a great guy. He'd shared his money with others, according to Sara, to bring happiness and comfort, and it had left Sara well taken care of. Whatever her father had done, Harry was glad he'd done it, honest or not.
He decided against the idea. If he was going to do that, then why not use the wealth that Sara offered? It was the same thing, spending money he hadn't earned. After graduation he would get them a flat in London and he would get a more respectable, better paying job, buy some land, and save money to build the house they would someday call home.
He had stood before the shelf for so long that a saleswoman had come to ask if he needed help.
"I'm interested in buying this. What can you tell me about it?"
"Is it for yourself?"
"A gift. She's a powerful clairvoyant."
"Then this would be the perfect thing. The origin of this particular crystal ball is unknown, but it is many centuries old. This is the original stand and, as you can see, the craftsmanship is rather astounding. A lot of work went into this. I'm not sure when it made its way to England, but I was told by the appraiser that it is full of strong magic that has been lost to our kind for at least a millennium. He wasn't sure of all it could do, but said it was powerful."
"What are these strange markings here along the base?" Harry thought one of them looked familiar, but what did he know about strange old markings?
"I honestly don't know. Our appraiser thought they might be ancient Romanian symbols."
"I'll take it."
"Very good. A gift you said?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll wrap it for you as well."
Harry followed her to the counter.
"You know, Mr. Potter, a true clairvoyant rarely gets to use a medium as powerful as this. Your lady-friend will be most pleased."
Harry smoothed his hair down over his scar, having been recognized by it yet again. "I hope you're right."
* * *
With the heavy parcel in his arms, Harry entered the room he shared with Sara and found the cup of potion empty and a clamor emanating from behind the bathroom door. He hid the gift in his backpack, magically condensing its contents to make room. He threw his robe over the back of a chair and dressed for lunch. They had precious few hours left together, but thankfully, the new semester started in about two weeks. He wouldn't have to miss her for long, and this time when she returned to Hogwarts, he wouldn't have to concern himself with her sanity. Her safety, however, was another matter. He could only hope Snape had spoken to Dumbledore and that he had agreed to let him accompany them back to the school. His hopes were low. He had a feeling what Snape had said was right. He'd be returning with the other students on the first.
Sara emerged from the bathroom, showered and smelling wonderful. Her skin glowed and he wondered what she did to it everyday, for it must be a spell.
Her golden-white hair was perfect as always and the curls had returned to the ends, though the black had grown since last night. Something was bothering her, but Harry didn't ask. She offered him a radiant smile and threw herself into his arms without a word.
"You passed out on me. I guess you're all talk."
"I don't remember. I've been going over it for an hour now. I remember being in bed together, but it's just bits and pieces. I woke up wondering."
"We didn't, of course." His smile turned to a grin. "Personally, I blame the wine. No more wine for you, and no more complicated straps and hooks and buttons. You can only wear normal shirts from now on."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. But you're welcome to wear that skirt every day if you'd like."
Sara laughed. "You sound a little disappointed, Captain. Did I leave you in a state?"
"We waited too long to come back to our room!"
"It's all Severus' fault. Remember Harry? He made us wait for him and he took forever. Let's blame him."
"Excellent idea! That's it then. We'll blame Snape." He fell to the bed, pulling her down, too. "You're awake now, Sara." He kissed her, playful and with an air of silliness. It only took a moment to realize Sara didn’t share his mood. “What’s wrong?”
“I had a visitor this morning. It was a sobering visit, for lack of a better word. I really shouldn’t say anything, but someone drank too much last night and things went a bit too far when they came back to their room. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the good fortune of passing out.”
Harry was quiet for a moment, thinking about what she'd said. He looked up and she had turned away. "Hermione," he whispered.
Sara nodded her head. "She's so upset, Harry. They were drunk, of course and she remembers very little. It's not how she wanted it to happen."
Harry sighed, remembering again Dumbledore’s warning. There are few things worse than regret. “You know Sara, last night I was glad you fell asleep. You won’t believe me, but it came as a relief. Dumbledore said something to me that made me think twice, but at the time I didn't care. It was only after you passed out that I stopped to think about how I felt about it. Poor Ron. He must feel terrible."
"I'm sure he does, Harry, and so does she, but what's done is done. At least they love each other."
"Is there anything we can do?"
"Yes. Leave them alone. Let them talk. We'll be on our own today."
"I think we almost made a terrible mistake last night, Sara. Dumbledore was right. Drinking does cloud your judgment."
Sara lowered her eyes and Harry could tell she felt ashamed.
"I want it to happen, Harry, we both do, but not like that. I don't ever want to feel the way Hermione feels right now. Promise me we'll keep our heads."
"I promise. I don't want us to have regrets."
"Regret is what I fear the most, you know."
"What else are you afraid of?"
"You just turned seventeen and I'm about to. We feel like adults. We believe we think as adults, but do we? How do we know we aren't making foolish adolescent decisions? And how much of those decisions are influenced by our physical desires?"
"So you want to wait, then?"
"I don't know. The part of me that's afraid does. I know I love you, Harry. The question is when. I thought the time was right more than once, only to later feel relief that it hadn't happened." Sara hesitated, tears welled up in her eyes and when she spoke again her voice was soft and full of sorrow. "I need my mother, Harry."
Harry put his arms around her and her head found his shoulder. "We both need advice. There have been many times when I've needed my parents, too, and this is one of them, but in the end it comes down to what we want. What we feel is right. I want you to be sure, Sara, and I'll wait as long as it takes."
Sara smiled. "You always know how to make everything ok."
"But if I have to wait, then you can't wear that skirt anymore."
She laughed. "I'll wear gray sack dresses and big clunky boots, then. That should help."
"I'd just picture you in something else."
Sara grinned. "Let's get lunch, then. I'm starving. After, we'll take a ride out to the coast. There’s something I want to show you."
* * *
The drive was a long one, but enjoyable. Sara had a reason for this particular trip, which she didn't confess to Harry until they had arrived at their destination. She had to; since it made little sense to him that they drive down a dirt road on what was obviously private property.
"I called a real estate agent while you were out. There are five lots here, four of them undeveloped, and it sounded perfect! I thought we could look at it."
"Look is all we can do until I make some more money."
"Let's say you let me buy the property." She saw he was about to protest and stopped him, grinning. "I can't have my boyfriend support me, Harry. It's wrong."
Harry had intended to argue, but laughed instead. "Sara, you're impossible."
"I also don't want these lots to be purchased by someone else in the meantime. It's perfect, isn't it? There are tons of trees by the road, which obscure the rest of the property from the view of passers-by. It's twenty-one acres deep, so there's plenty of room to build our grand palace and keep it removed from the road while not putting it right on top of the cliffs. What do you think, Harry?"
"It does seem perfect. Let's have a look around." He took her hand and they began their walk. "It's a little overgrown. It will need to be cleared."
"I can have someone take care of that while we're at school."
"The little cottage is in pretty bad shape. We could have it knocked down."
"I'll have it remodeled. It will take some time to build the house we envisioned. We can live in it while we wait."
"Sara! You will not pay for everything!"
"Why not? Would you stop being so damned chivalrous? We want to live a certain way and we have the means! Why not put it to good use? Is it really that important who pays for what? If it's that important, I will give you a loan for half and you can pay me back, but as far as I'm concerned what's mine is yours. Don't you plan to marry me Harry?"
Harry looked shocked. "Of course! I mean, if you want to."
"Then the money will be ours eventually, anyway."
Harry sighed, resigned. Arguing with her was simply impossible. "A loan it will have to be, Sara. I can't allow Snape's accusations to ring true, even the slightest bit."
"Okay, then. Let's go check out the cliffs."
The ocean pounded away at the rock wall as they lay prone on the ground, peering over the edge. There were many large boulders on either side of a clearing where someone had once anchored a boat and a narrow, uneven path jutted out of the cliff. It gave Harry an idea.
"We could cut into the cliff right there," he pointed. "Make a watery tunnel into an underground room."
"Brilliant, Harry! No one would ever see boats anchored outside. And we could put lots of spells on the entrance so it would go unnoticed. An easy escape if there was trouble."
"Already we're planning for trouble!"
"Better than being caught unprepared and without options."
"True." Harry pushed himself up and dusted off. "Is this where you want to live, Sara?"
"Yes! I love it! This is definitely where we should live. Can you picture it? Us, here, with our house? It would make me so happy, Harry. We would be happy. We'd be together."
He stood and helped her up. "Let's buy it."
Sara threw her arms around him. "Thank you! It's so perfect. I can't wait for us to live here together."
"We shouldn't tell anyone about it yet, though. We'll surprise everyone."
"Of course. But should we tell Ron and Hermione?"
"Not yet. Let's do some work on it first."
* * *
Sara insisted Harry keep the car until the end of the summer. He protested at first but, when she mentioned how it might affect the Dursleys, he warmed to the idea. They knew how he hated having to get up so early to walk to work and even worse, dragging himself home after such a long day that it would burn them to no end to no longer have the pleasure of that particular torture. She allowed him to offer to pay the lease and accepted, but as soon as Snape turned his back she took Harry's arm and told him not to think of it. It was already paid for, she told him, as she had planned this the day Hermione spoke to Dudley.
Ron and Hermione had come down into the pub to say their good-byes, but planned to stay another night, so they wouldn't be accompanying Harry, Sara, and Snape to King's Cross. Harry hugged Hermione, which was something he rarely did and gave Ron a sympathetic smile. Sara hugged and kissed them both. They all promised to write as Hermione pretended to be cheerful. Ron kept a comforting arm around her shoulders and Harry thought she looked emotionally shattered. He didn't want to leave without saying something to lift her spirits. She was always so strong, level headed and confident that he couldn't stand the sadness he saw in her eyes, but in the end he could think of nothing that would help. He gave her his warmest smile before leading Sara out the door.
It was easier than he thought, saying goodbye to Sara. They were ecstatic over the property. Sara had phoned the agent and her lawyer, Brad Silverman, who set up payment and would handle the transaction. They’d had a quick meeting with the agent, signing papers, on their return from the coast. The lots would be theirs very soon and they could start having work done on the land and on the little cottage. They agreed not to start building until after they graduated so they could handle things themselves. Until then, it was their secret.
Sara whispered as she hugged him. "I'll see you in a couple of weeks."
Harry sighed, "It was so nice to see you again."
"We'll see each other soon, and we won't have to hide anymore."
One last kiss and she boarded the empty train. Snape looked over his shoulder as he climbed up behind her, "She'll be perfectly safe, Potter."
"Take care of her Severus." Harry grinned. "Or I'll kill you."
Snape actually smiled, then the door closed and he was gone. The train set off at once and Harry waved to Sara, who waved back, until he could see her no more.
* * *
The Girl in the Tower by SpookyMulder
Chapter Notes: Thanks so much to those few of you who left me reviews. I hope you like ch 6