Disclaimer: With humble gratitude to J. K. Rowling for allowing me to build castles in her sandbox once more.
Thirty - Nine
Harry: A Visit to the Reliquary
As teatime approached, Hermione excused herself to get ready for the evening’s gala.
–You’re welcome to share the bathroom upstairs with Ginny,†Molly proposed.
–Thanks, but I left everything at my parents’,†Hermione demurred. –It’s best if I concentrate on fixing my hair without interruption.â€
Molly nodded her approval as Hermione detoured to thank Bill and Fleur for their hospitality.
–Just make sure you’re there in plenty of time for the Grangers to take photos,†Molly scolded Ron. –No excuses this year.â€
–No one’s going eento labor deez time,†Fleur teased.
–Go shower some of that sand off before you come inside,†Molly directed to both Harry and Ron.
–Come,†Arthur offered. –I have a surprise for you. George will be sorry he raced Ginny for the upstairs bath.â€
With mischief dancing in his eyes, he led the boys to a rustic outdoor shower that had been added to the side of the house which had no windows.
–You’ve never experienced the seashore until you’ve washed under the stars,†Bill rhapsodized.
From behind an armful of fresh towels, Fleur shared a wink with her husband. –Brings out ze beest een ‘im.â€
–Last night’s full moon made it even more spectacular,†Bill nodded happily. –But if you two wait ‘til nightfall, you’ll be late for the festivities.â€
–Aren’t you coming, too?†Harry tendered.
–They’ll be no escaping once Victoire wakes up ready to play with Gabrielle all over again,†Bill laughed. –Family beats out a bunch of pillocks in starched evening collars to my way of thinking.â€
Harry nodded that he understood; or rather wished he did since he’d never really had much of a family. Just Andromeda and Teddy -- and that had only been recently.
The showerhead coughed, then burst into thin ribbons of water that energized their sun-baked shoulders. Gulls circled in the sky above but the drone of the water muffled their cries.
Finding themselves alone for the first time all day, Ron couldn’t stop himself from confiding, –The Muggle Prime Minister’s taken quite a shine to Hermione. Treats her like one of the family.†He turned to allow the cool water to sluice down his back.
–Does that really surprise you?â€
–All I know is she gets invited to all these fancy do’s. Like garden parties.â€
–It’s part of her duties as the PM’s personal liaison, Ron.â€
–Right. But she’s always insisting that I be her ‘plus one.’ Merlin knows what that means.â€
Harry chuckled at the befuddled expression on his best mate’s face. –That’s their way of saying that you’re her number one man.†At Ron’s emerging smile, Harry prodded, –So have you gone yet?â€
–Only once. And it was a bit nerve-wracking, to tell the truth. All these men in somber suits and Hermione weaving in among them. Sharing a few words with everyone like she’s been doing it all her life. Schmoozing, she calls it -- must be a Muggle term.â€
Harry burst out laughing. –Actually, I think that’s Yid --â€
Ron cut across, –She hints that I should strike up a conversation with one of the knots of young men. ‘The ones who seem less intense aren’t part of the security,’ she says.â€
–Just avoid the ones who look like Hit Wizards,†Harry counseled.
–Right. Like that’s supposed to put me at ease! It’s so much easier for her. Women the world over understand fashion from day one -- just look at Ginny. And mothers can attest that children are the same whether they’re magical or not.â€
Harry considered that women could find common ground by whinging about men, but wisely kept silent.
–What am I supposed to talk about?†Ron moaned. –Football is not like Quidditch without brooms -- no matter what Hermione says. Even I know they only use one ball!â€
–Perhaps we could catch a match sometime,†Harry suggested. –Give you a bit of perspective.â€
–Nah, too boring for my taste; thanks all the same, though. Caught a bit on one of those pocket devices Muggles can’t be without. The blokes suggested I might like rugby better; said it’s more of a blood sport -- whatever that means.â€
–Rugby’s more violent, a free-for-all where anything goes that the referee doesn’t see. More prone to injuries on the field. Similar to Quidditch in that respect,†Harry allowed.
–Yeah,†Ron nodded avidly. –Then we move on to politics. Talk about a ruddy Devil’s Snare! They have all these parties -- rather like a deck of playing cards -- and power is always switching back and forth. Did I mention the election process is never-ending?â€
–It’s more complicated because there are hundreds of Muggles for every wizard in Britain.â€
Ron scratched his head in thought. –Makes sense. Rather like Mum’s adage about too many wizards spoiling the potion.â€
Harry smiled. –You could say so.â€
–And then each bloke who puts his name in the goblet --â€
–Stands for office,†Harry corrected.
–Right. Well, he has to convince his own party that he best encompasses their ideals.â€
–That way people know what they’re voting for, if not for whom,†Harry clarified.
Ron flashed him a wide grin. –Rather like truth in packaging, I’d say.â€
–Very much so,†Harry agreed. –You’re catching on nicely. Too many voices have to be funneled into categories or there’d be pandemonium.â€
–Ooh! I know that one, too! That involves those round black and white bears Hermione pointed out in the Sydney zoo!â€
Harry squinted at Ron through the shower spray. Forcing his gaping mouth to snap shut, he muttered, –Oh, you meant that as a joke.â€
Ron’s grin threatened to crack his face in two. –Of course, what kind of a moron do you take me for?â€
At the sound of a throat clearing, a distinctly feminine throat, Harry jerked his head out of the stream of water. With dripping fingers, he slammed his glasses back on his face.
On the far side of the wooden gate, Andromeda was standing with her eyes demurely covered.
–We’re decent,†Harry announced. Even without his glasses, he could’ve distinguished the wild tropical print of Ron’s bathing costume.
Andromeda issued a sigh of relief as she allowed Teddy to toddle past the enclosing timbers, his hair matching the sailboats that cruised across his tiny trunks.
–There was no restraining him once he heard the two of you splashing about,†she apologized. –You don’t mind shampooing the salt out of his hair?â€
–Of course not,†Harry agreed with a welcoming smile directed at his godson. –But he’s got to agree to help me with mine. I have an important party tonight.â€
Teddy nodded his head happily.
–Victoire insisted on helping Ginny prepare,†Andromeda provided with an indulgent shrug. –Don’t worry, Fleur won’t let little hands spoil the result. Promises that her mother’s a real genius with hair. Makes it look simple and elegant, not an overwrought nest like those salons in Diagon Alley.â€
With a final smile in the men’s direction, Andromeda discreetly latched the slatted gate that closed off the outdoor shower. In the background, Harry’s voice could be heard above the spray, –Come here, mite, you’re a bit overdressed…â€
Harry didn’t recall being this nervous on the night of the Yule Ball. And he’d had plenty cause when McGonagall announced that the champions were expected to lead the first dance.
No, not even then, he decided. Not even when he’d gotten all tongue-tied trying to ask Cho to be his date. Sweet Merlin’s knickers, let this night not turn out to be a similar disaster…
He checked his watch, noting that it had been an hour since Ron left. How long could it take to pose for the Grangers’ photographs? Granted, Ron had probably been coerced into more tea and sandwiches to fortify his stomach for the reception in the Minister’s inner chambers.
For the tenth time, he stopped Andromeda on the stairs to make certain she’d left the velvet jewelry box where Ginny would be sure to find it. Once again, she’d given him that inscrutable smile and patted his arm reassuringly.
What if Ginny didn’t like it? What if she thought his note was too corny? Or not corny enough? What if she dreamed of a flowery froth of words?
Then she’s never going to be content with the likes of you, his common sense reared its head.
So he’d spoken from the heart when he’d written: I’ve always loved you. There was no need to elaborate about the emptiness he’d felt during the months they’d been apart; it was all there in those simple words. No guilt, no recriminations, just the overwhelming feeling that her presence in his life truly made him happy.
–Zum Firewhiskey for ze nerves?†François Delacour issued at his shoulder. –Bill was just like deez before ‘eez weddeeng.â€
Harry shook his head to the negative, catching his reflection briefly in the glass. He’d have to thank Hermione for her sharing some of her Sleekeasy Potion for his hair. For the first time in his life, he looked like a well-groomed chap in an advert, not some overgrown urchin who’d just come in from playing a rousing game of Quidditch -- in a hurricane, no less.
On the far side of the room, George entertained Teddy and Victoire with his attempts at Muggle sleight of hand. Every exaggerated fumble was met with a chorus of giggles, Muriel’s cackle echoing loudest of all. Had he been less distracted, Harry might’ve noticed that George’s feigned clumsiness hid how artfully the chocolate frog cards had been inserted among the regular deck. Instead, he was just as surprised as the others when George extracted a gleeful image of Dumbledore from Gabrielle’s ear.
–Why that randy old goat actually winked at me!†Muriel protested
Without preamble, George announced, –Well, I’m off,†then stopped before the hall mirror to adjust his collar one last time. Catching Harry’s eye in the reflection, he gave him a cheeky wink. –See you later, mate.â€
With that, George Disapparated with a resounding crack. In the echoing silence, Harry turned to the remaining adults in the room.
–Surely, he wasn’t… at his collar…†he sputtered.
–Fred’s Order of Merlin?†Arthur asked nonchalantly.
–You knew?â€
–Well, of course, Harry,†Molly soothed. –How else could George have promised Angelina that they’d have cocktails with the Minister himself?â€
–Breathe, Harry,†Bill coached, handing him a tumbler of lemonade. –It’s the ultimate prank. Fred would’ve insisted if he were here.â€
–Kingsley won’t be fooled,†Harry cautioned.
–We’re hoping he gets a chuckle out of it himself,†Arthur supplied. –These state affairs are much too stodgy, if you catch my drift.â€
At the first whisper of taffeta from the upper landing, Harry blindly set his empty glass on the nearest table. His heart threatened to explode from his chest as he stood routed to the base of the stairs.
–What do you call that color?†Harry mouthed appreciatively in Andromeda’s ear.
–Peacock green.â€
–It’s perfect,†he breathed.
With a radiant smile, Ginny floated down the stairs in a gown fashioned from the aquamarine tides of the Aegean Sea. The soft fabric rippled as she moved, the color shifting from blue to green and every variation in between. She raised her hand to her throat as she drew near, her fingers caressing the small golden rectangle he’d given her. The light caught the varying shades of faceted tourmalines that dangled like droplets from the bottom edge.
–It’s beautiful,†she whispered into his lips. –Like something from antiquity.â€
–Just a clever Greek jeweler,†he replied into her bottomless eyes.
Her soft laugh was like a waterfall. –Let me guess: one of Lexxie’s relatives?â€
–Who else? He insisted your birthstones would be ideal.â€
–And the mermaid?†she asked lowly. –Is that really how you see me?â€
–Only when I close my eyes.â€
The tender touch of her fingertips on his cheek made him blush profusely.
–Turn around all ready!†Bill insisted.
–All I get iz ze black of ‘Arry’s jacket,†Gabrielle complained as she jockeyed for a better view from behind the camera.
–Zhat’s no good,†Fleur teased. –Eet could be Severus Snape for all we can zee!â€
Laughing despite themselves, Harry and Ginny turned at the foot of the stairs as the cameras assaulted them from all directions. Still half-blinded, Harry implored Molly to clip his Order of Merlin right below his white bow tie. It was the only invitation they would need.
–Molly and I will be along later,†Arthur promised. –She has an exclusive invitation of her own, you know.â€
He hesitated just shy of the doorway, not wanting to leave the relative sanctum of the Minister’s inner offices. Despite the subdued lighting beyond, Harry could still distinguish the roving media jackals circling the periphery of the gala tables. Like lions stalking a herd of wildebeest, the words popped into his mind courtesy of those endless nature films shown in Muggle primary schools.
If it were up to him, he would’ve banned the lot of them. Let them think the Minister was hosting a séance or a wild orgy.
Or raising Voldemort from the dead? He winced at a fabrication that was so worthy of the Daily Prophet. Kingsley certainly had his hands full dealing with that rabble on a daily basis.
He started as a heavy hand fell on his shoulder.
–Surely, you’re not lagging behind because you have some opening remarks of your own,†Kingsley’s rich voice chuckled in his ear. –A few words from the Chosen One would be more than welcome.â€
–I’ll pass, thank you very much,†Harry automatically returned.
The Minister’s smiling eyes conveyed that he understood just how much Harry hated being singled out in public. –You’ll excuse me while I revise my notes then.â€
One of the Minister’s aides ushered Harry aside as another retired with Kingsley into a far corner. With chagrin, he realized that everyone else had already wandered out onto the main floor of the Atrium to await the Minister’s welcoming speech.
He spied Ginny clustered with Ron and Hermione, the three of them doing their best to keep their backs to the relentless reporters. Even with his head down, Harry could feel the intensity of the flashbulbs exploding in the air as he worked his way through the knots of people to join them.
–Your fans are going to be disappointed,†Neville whispered, causing Hannah Abbott to break into silent laughter at his side.
–I’ll have Mrs. Canary send out official photos to those who write in,†Harry retorted with a resigned sigh.
–When did you have time to pose for a photographer?†Ginny wanted to know.
–I will before the night’s over,†Harry grumbled. –It’s unavoidable. Then it’s simply a matter of getting copies from Kingsley’s aides.â€
–It may be sooner than you think,†Hermione warned as she nodded in the direction of a reporter who was striding purposefully in their direction.
–This way!†Ginny shoved Harry into a side room just as Kingsley took to the floating platform where the orchestra was seated.
The barest brush of cobwebs across his forehead and he was through the wide archway he’d never noticed before. The deep carpeting muffled their footsteps as he grabbed Ginny’s shoulder to steady himself.
Harry’s mouth hung open at the enormity of the long gallery before them. The dedication speech delivered in the Minister’s distinctive cadence seemed nothing more than the buzzing of insects across a limitless plain.
He looked around in bewilderment. –This used to be a coat-check room.â€
Ginny nodded emphatically. –Moved to the other side, next to the wand-weighing station. Have to agree it makes more sense that way.â€
So this was Percy’s all-engrossing project which had kept him away from his niece’s very first birthday, Harry concluded.
His eyes were drawn to the long shelves which hugged both sides of the narrow room. In an almost casual manner, artifacts were laid out from those who had sacrificed themselves to ensure Voldemort’s defeat. Instead of the customary photograph, mementos of each fallen warrior’s life created a much more vibrant picture of the unique individual he or she had been. The length of the room underscored the enormity of their loss more eloquently than any monument of chiseled names could ever do.
Dumbledore’s silver instruments flashed in the light, their tireless tinkling beckoning Harry to draw closer. He knew no more of their archaic inner workings than when he’d been a schoolboy, but they instantly conjured the presence of the venerable wizard who’d left so many unanswered questions in his wake.
The impenetrable black of Snape’s trademark frock coat followed, so indicative of the way in which the Potions Master had rebuffed the world at large. Likely the man had come to know Dumbledore better than anyone throughout the years, secrets which both had borne to their graves. The familiar scent of Darjeeling tea poured from the small, bubbling cauldron. With its stained cracks, the single ceramic cup brought to mind a lonely existence shared with his ancient grimoires and little else.
The familiar hounds-tooth blazer evoked images of Charity Burbage, always distinctive amid a sea of dark school uniforms. A stack of Muggle science texts illustrated the professor’s attempts to explain the illogical workings of the outside world to young witches and wizards. So many misconceptions still raged in each camp despite how they each rubbed shoulders on a daily basis.
A wobble of movement elicited a bittersweet smile. Immersed in a clear tumbler of water, Moody’s blue prosthetic eye darted in all directions. So Hermione’s vague recollection of where they’d buried it had yielded the prize after all.
–He was cleaning it just like that in my Aunt Petunia’s kitchen,†Harry mumbled softly. –A more motley crew never came to release me from my Purgatory on Privet Drive.â€
How clear was his memory of those upturned faces in the shadowy downstairs corridor. Emmeline Vance, Mad-Eye, Remus, Tonks, all wiped out with a heartless cosmic eraser. Elphias Doge was but a shadow in the wake of Dumbledore’s demise and Sturgis Podmore had aged eons in an Azkaban made even more brutal under Voldemort’s tyranny. Even Kingsley had endured months of privation while the Death Eaters had plastered his face on Wanted placards. Only Hestia Jones and Dedalus Dingle remained much the same, likely because they’d left Britain to escort the Dursleys to safety.
The strident squeal of rubber soles on marble put Harry on instant alert. By the time the angry words reached their zenith, he had already swung around to block Ginny’s body with his own, his wand at the ready. In the same heartbeat, Ginny slipped her wand from the inseam of her gown and stood crouched at his side.
–The Minister’s orders,†a tall guard pronounced. The ceremonial pole axe he’d lowered to block the room’s entrance was more eloquent than words.
–You have no bloody right --!â€
–He has every right,†Percy growled as he took the snarling reporter aside. –No one is to intrude on these people’s private moments, not tonight. This isn’t some ruddy zoo for your entertainment!â€
–BOLLOCKS!†the reporter decried. –Someone’s getting a royal scoop; I can see the flash bulbs reflected against the dark walls!â€
–That’s part of the exhibit, you inconsiderate prat!†Percy seethed. –Come back tomorrow for the journalist’s tour and you can see for yourself.†Turning to an aide with a shiny cap of black hair, Percy intoned lowly, –Alys here will see that your name’s on the list.â€
With a resplendent smile, Alys ushered the disgruntled journalist to the far side of the velvet ropes, assuring him that tomorrow’s tour would include even the most minute details.
–Sorry ‘bout that,†Percy grumbled as he strode past Harry and Ginny. –Took me all afternoon to get the cantankerous camera to work right and I have to deal with this baboon right off the bat!â€
Intrigued by his words, they followed Percy to a slightly higher shelf on which rested an antique box camera. The flash bulb exploded as the three of them drew into range, blinding them for an instant. Seconds later, a ghostly photo floated down to land at their feet. It showed them in various poses of surprise making them all chuckle self-consciously.
–Let me guess,†Ginny supplied. –Colin Creevey. He used to stalk the halls of Hogwarts in much the same manner.â€
–I was one of his first victims,†Harry acknowledged.
Wordlessly, Percy nodded to the candid photographs that lined the wall immediately behind the camera. Harry recognized the one on the far right which bore his scrawled autograph across the lower half. Despite his small statute, Colin had been a relentless force. Not even Petrification had dampened his effervescent spirit. He and his younger brother had both thrown themselves into their practice sessions with Dumbledore’s Army, mastering spells well beyond their age levels.
Ginny moved on to the vivid fuchsia robes and sparkling gold bracelets that Parvati had worn to the Yule Ball, but Harry was mesmerized by a much more humble object: a perfectly utilitarian wand. He even remembered wrapping his hand over Cho’s to guide her in mastering the Patronus Charm. It seemed ages ago that they’d stood side by side in the Room of Requirement, their teenaged awkwardness on view for all to see.
–I don’t remember the handle being carved like that,†Harry muttered. Seeing that Percy had noticed, he added, –And I held that wand myself.â€
–Her family added the carved ivory at the base. A graduation present, I believe.â€
Harry reached out a tentative hand only to be rebuffed by a protective field of magic.
–Here, I’ll release that for just an instant,†Percy offered with a quick glance over his shoulder. –The Minister’s speech is running long.â€
With tentative fingers, Harry traced the graceful lines of the swan, each feather rendered in exquisite detail. –It was her Patronus,†he barely breathed. –I remember it reflected in her wondrous eyes when it burst from her wand for the very first time.â€
–I always wondered,†Percy issued so lowly Harry had to strain to hear. –Didn’t dare ask Ginny. Still a sore subject and all.â€
Harry jerked up in a guilty manner, but Ginny was engrossed in her own memories and still had her back to them. Not willing to push this particular envelope, Harry gave Percy a whispered word of thanks as he caught up to his date.
She gave Harry a bittersweet smile that made his heart ache even as she entwined her fingers with his. –It’s just like that Christmas, remember?â€
Harry followed her line of sight to the scuffed bedroom slippers Sirius had worn while confined to Grimmauld Place. The faded silk smoking jacket recalled his godfather’s valiant attempts at finery when the lot of them had descended upon him practically unannounced.
–He was so thrilled to be entertaining over the holidays,†Harry remarked fondly.
–Even if the circumstances were less than ideal,†Ginny added softly.
In his mind’s eye, Harry could see her curled up like a frightened kitten in one of the shabby drawing room chairs. Her eyes had glistened with fear as she awaited news of her father’s condition from St. Mungo’s.
How could he ever hope to forget? He’d witnessed the attack himself, seen Arthur recoil from the viper’s jaws. Awakened to find himself inside the snake’s skin, felt the hatred well up until his vision was occluded with nothing but hot blood. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if Arthur hadn’t recovered. Likely blamed himself until the end of time, even though his body had been miles away in the Gryffindor dormitory. The telepathic tie had been Voldemort’s doing; Dumbledore had always maintained that the maniac had been unaware of the connection between his thoughts and Harry’s until much later.
Years later, Harry was less certain. The debilitating guilt his fifteen-year-old self would’ve felt if Arthur had died would’ve destroyed him utterly and completely. It would’ve been a masterful stroke on his enemy’s part: decisive and economical.
Voldemort had grown more diabolical after that, manipulating what Harry saw so as to lure him into a trap. Only when he felt that his ultimate victory was assured had Voldemort’s fiendish glee at tracing the elusive Elder Wand seeped into Harry’s consciousness once more.
–Why so quiet all of a sudden?†Ginny’s voice was a whisper of wind.
–Persistence of memory,†Harry mumbled, rubbing his scar absently.
The small, pretentious sign from Regulus’ old room at Grimmauld Place brought Harry up short. There for the world to see was the infamous R.A.B. note and the locket which had housed its secret in that pernicious solution for so many years.
–You don’t think…†he stammered. –Surely Kreacher wouldn’t…â€
Ginny gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. –A replica, I’m sure.â€
Harry nodded absently. Such would be the case with the scrap of parchment as well; the original would remain in the Auror Department’s evidence locker.
The threadbare robes Remus had worn as their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher brought all sorts of memories to the fore. Dog-eared copies of Paradise Lost and Ivanhoe recalled convivial evenings spent at Headquarters, reunited with his last remaining school chum. Good times cut short by Fate’s indiscriminate hand.
Next came one of Tonks’ iconic Weird Sisters tees, the blackened holes attesting that it had been much used during her Auror training. She smiled from between her parents in a photo that must have been taken at her Hogwart’s graduation to judge from the celebratory crowds in the background.
Harry ran his fingers uncertainly over the empty shelf section which followed. Before he could frame a question, Percy was at his elbow.
–We don’t have anything else for Ted Tonks, just that photo of him and his daughter together. That and the T-shirt came from Tonks’ locker in the Auror training room,†Percy confided. –We hit the brick wall, so to speak.â€
Harry nodded solemnly, knowing full well how adamantly Andromeda had refused to cooperate with the project.
–Monuments and memorials are a sad substitute for flesh and blood,†she’d railed tearfully. –Do you think Teddy cares one whit that his mother was a great warrior?â€
What could he have said in the face of her grief? Harry felt the sting of death’s injustice as much as she did. –I told them they could root around Sirius’ old townhouse,†he’d offered rather sheepishly.
–Of course you did,†Andromeda condoned; after all, her anger wasn’t directed at Harry. –You can’t help but be generous with your co-workers. As a private citizen, I don’t have to cooperate with their half-baked ideas.â€
–I’ll talk to her again,†Harry found himself promising Percy. –She needs to see this for herself. It’s a powerful testament.â€
–Alys will arrange a private viewing sometime next week,†Percy affirmed. –That way you can explore the Reliquary without interruption.â€
–Is that what you’re calling this place? The Reliquary?†Hermione interjected.
Nervously, Percy glanced over her shoulder where the two guards were allowing small knots of people to enter. –Not officially, no,†he muttered lowly. –It’s the Room of Remembrance, as the Minister announced in his dedication.â€
–Reliquary’s better,†Ron attested from Hermione’s side. –Not so bombastic.â€
He grinned into Hermione’s eyes as she gave him an approving nod.
–Which is precisely why the administration prefers a less… evocative term,†Percy huffed, then excused himself.
Molly’s strangled cry of delight drew them towards the vibrant display of Fred’s creative genius. As if sensing the presence of admirers, the single wand hanging in mid-air waggled back and forth in a teasing manner -- then exploded into a rubber chicken. Not to be outdone, a detachment of Decoy Detonators marched across the tabletop issuing bursts of smoke and showers of glittering stars.
–It’s a wonderful tribute,†Arthur beamed as he co-opted Percy from Molly’s effusive hug. –You managed to keep it from being cheesy.â€
Or turn it into an unpaid advert for WWW, Harry couldn’t help thinking.
–Good show, bro,†George managed as he pumped Percy’s hand profusely, leaving his older, more sedate brother looking a bit dazed. –By the way, I stashed it in your old room at the Burrow.â€
Looking quite flushed, Percy extricated himself to catch up with the Minister’s entourage. Squinting into the distance, Harry could see Kingsley’s tall head as he worked past the crowd in the open area of the Atrium.
–So what’s the secret?†Ginny demanded of George. –Will cold fire erupt from Percy’s closet when he opens the door?â€
George issued a wicked laugh. –Not this time, but I’ll definitely file that away for later.â€
–Percy was so afraid that Victoire would be put out that he missed her party,†Angelina confided lowly. –Instead, she’s going to be thrilled tomorrow when he presents her with the newest breed of Dwarf Pygmy Puff.â€
–They may be small, but the tips of their fur glow in the dark,†George expounded proudly.
–Rather like having a tiny mauve night lantern,†Arthur noted. –That’s what Muggle call them, right?â€
It took Hermione a moment to catch on. –Night lights, you mean.â€
Harry worked his way deeper into the room, intent on exploring its depths before the crush of bodies which would surely come on the Minister’s heels. His eyes barely took in Scrimgeour’s ceremonial gavel or Barty Crouch Senior’s trademark pin-stripe suit. The peculiar cap Amelia Bones had worn as a member of the Wizengamot conjured her bleached features in that over-sized audience room. How well Harry recalled that she’d raised a tentative hand in his favor, thus turning the tide at the kangaroo court engineered by the conniving Dolores Umbridge herself.
Cedric’s Quidditch jersey was a blur of yellow in a field that shone with fragments from those who’d touched his life. Bertha Jorkins, who stopped to ask directions of the wrong chap. Broderick Bode, strangled by a treacherous plant under the watchful eyes of St. Mungo’s Healers. Recuperating nearby, Arthur could so easily have been the next target. Bathilda Bagshot, whose declining health had been acerbated by large doses of Veritaserum. Harry shuddered at the dark magic that had allowed Voldemort’s dastardly snake to hide within her desiccated body.
Molly sobbed copiously into Arthur’s shoulder at the homage to Fabian and Gideon, uncles from the Prewett line who had died before meeting their niece and nephews. Despite their exceptional bravery, it was clear she would’ve preferred to have her brothers at her side.
Harry gave Hannah’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he passed the artifacts of her late mother’s life. It was overwhelming just making it from one end of the room to the other.
–Say, what do you make of this?†Neville gaped at the small, unfinished portion of the exhibit at the farthest end of the hall.
–Thirteen neat little picture frames,†Hannah counted as she dabbed at her eyes. –Don’t recognize any of those faces.â€
But Harry did. Or rather, he recognized the center photo that was not stationary like those surrounding it. A residential street with a gnawing hole in the pavement, emergency workers of all sorts trying to keep the gawking crowds from getting too close…. It had to be Pettigrew’s magnum opus: the framing of Sirius for the murders and betrayal that had been Peter’s own doing.
Noticing the knot that had gathered, Alys expounded softly, –Took us a good while to trace all the Muggle victims. Ignoring them would make us just as uncaring as Pettigrew had been.â€
–What about other catastrophes?†Hermione inquired. –The Death Eaters were intent on creating chaos among Muggles every chance they got.â€
–Establishing their superiority through cruelty,†Ginny scowled.
–Don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten about the Brockdale Bridge tragedy,†Alys affirmed. –But compiling all those names and faces without violating the Statute of Secrecy is a balancing act that may take years to complete.â€
–Perhaps I can find some records in the PM’s files,†Hermione offered.
–Likely you can,†Kingsley noted as drew up. –But it would be better if you didn’t. Despite our government’s disclosures to the Muggle Prime Minister, I doubt he’s truly absorbed how much danger just a handful of lawless wizards can create. Let’s not stir his irrational fears any more than needed.â€
Kingsley waved off Hermione’s attempts to frame an apology. –I didn’t intervene to curtail your initiative, merely to remind everyone that the orchestra is warming up for the first dance.†His dark eyes searched the small clusters, then with a formal bow, he offered his arm to Molly. As the only female to be recognized with a first class Order of Merlin, it was traditional for the Minister to request her for the evening’s first dance.
–Make the most of the opportunity,†Kingsley whispered into Harry’s ear as the crowd parted to let the Minister pass.
–I think that was an official order,†Neville teased as he urged Hannah to follow suit.
Noticing that Harry still lingered after Ron and Hermione had trailed out, Ginny prodded, –What gives? Bad memories from previous events?â€
Harry winced self-consciously at a flashback of Parvati dragging his numb feet throught their motions while Viktor Krum caught Hermione in an effortless lift around the waist. Despite a stumbling start, even Neville had finally relaxed enough to enjoy himself at the Yule Ball. He, on the other hand, had perched like a stuffed owl and refused a second dance with anyone.
–I’m a three-legged hippogriff on the dance floor,†Harry groaned.
–Oh, I rather doubt that,†George interjected as he whisked by with Angelina in tow. –Hippogriffs have wings to help stabilize them!â€
–Thanks, George,†Harry called to his retreating back. –Loads of encouragement there.â€
–If it’s that bad, we can always Apparate to the coat-check room on the other side of the Atrium,†Ginny volunteered.
–Not on your life,†Harry moaned. –The headlines would proclaim that we’d been carousing among the fur cloaks -- even though no one would dream of wearing such a thing in May!â€
–Good point. What did you do last year?â€
Looking lamely at her small hand in his, Harry admitted, –Just swayed in the middle of the dance floor like a clueless tosser and let those jackals take photos of me from all angles.â€
–Tell me you didn’t try to use your hapless date as a human shield.â€
–No, but if I’d had any foresight, I would’ve invited someone taller --â€
–If you’d had any foresight, you’d have invited me!â€
–Just like I should’ve done for the Yule Ball. I remember you were right there in the common room when Ron and I groused that we didn’t have dates.â€
Ginny stopped so abruptly that Harry nearly ploughed into her.–You noticed?â€
Harry nodded through his grin. –With the half of my brain that didn’t house my stupidity genes.â€
–Or your power of speech.â€
–Obliviously.†Something about their light-hearted banter was already lifting his spirits.
–What say we start a new tradition then?†Ginny proposed with a sly wink. –If I was able to get Neville to stop blushing every time he put his hand on my waist, you should be a cinch.â€
Harry nodded helplessly, surrendering to the cavalcade of flash bulbs that greeted their exit from the Reliquary. How bad could it really be with the girl of his dreams on his arm?
The photo which graced the front cover of the next day’s Daily Prophet turned out better than Harry expected. Ginny’s gown shimmered like effervescent feathers as she executed a series of twirls that somehow finished precisely in the crook of his arm. The camera had captured the momentary look of shock in his eyes, followed by the goofy smile that he couldn’t seem to hide whenever she was near. All in all, he hadn’t looked as much like a club-footed troll as he’d felt among all the other graceful couples.
With Rita Skeeter’s acid quill searching for bigger game abroad, the accompanying article wasn’t as painful as those in the past. Yet there was no denying that speculation about his private life held a never-ending fascination for many. Not even the announcement of Ron’s and Hermione’s engagement had distracted them for long.
Has Sunshine Finally Returned to the Wizarding World?
This week marked the second anniversary of Voldemort’s final
downfall. Twice the despot and his elitist followers had tried to
spread their peculiar brand of hatred among wizarding kind and
been forcefully rebuffed each time.
Gone are the persistent whispers that we were premature in
commemorating the first of November, eighteen years ago.
Banishment does not always eradicate evil, so we soon learned.
Like toxic ashes swirled to life by a virulent wind, a small cadre of
Death Eaters had plotted in sinister silence until the time was right
to resurrect their dreaded Dark Lord.
Avenging the death of his parents and countless others, Harry
James Potter, currently a second-tier Auror with the Ministry of
Magic, vanquished Voldemort for all time amid the ruins of his
truncated education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry. That was two years ago on this second of May.
But it has not been sunshine and roses for the Chosen One.
Thrust into the world of Ministry politics, he has worked tirelessly
at the hands of tutors to fulfill the minimum requirements of his
Auror post.
–Let it not be said that Mr. Potter was granted any special
treatment,†Head Auror Gawain Robards maintains. –But my
department would’ve been foolish not to recognize the innate
potential in this one truant schoolboy. Harry has clocked in hours
of training just like everyone else, even if he began while he was
still studying for his NEWT-levels.â€
Trotted out like a rare jewel at Ministry functions, it soon
became clear that the intrepid Mr. Potter did not relish his role as
a goodwill ambassador of sorts. Always insisting that he was an
intensely private person, Auror Potter has submitted to countless
photographs and interviews with a sad sort of resignation -- as if
he were too polite to tell the world he’d rather it just buggered off.
Much to everyone’s surprise, this year’s victory celebration was
different. Gone were the sullen looks he hid behind his hand; there
was genuine joy shining forth from those famous emerald eyes.
Had Harry Potter quaffed an extra-strength Elixir of Joy before
the Minister’s speech? How else can we explain the welcoming
reception that rendered most of the press corps speechless? This
reporter had the distinct impression she had unwittingly stumbled
through the looking glass and was facing an alternate view of
reality.
–Gossip-mongers, the lot of them!†Ginny denounced as she slammed the Daily Prophet next to her steaming mug of breakfast tea.
Harry found he couldn’t stop smiling, even when he leaned over to give her a good morning kiss. – ‘Deadline dementors’ Mrs. Canary always says,†he countered wryly as he snuggled into the window seat at her side. –Tomorrow it will be something else.â€
–Tomorrow, they’ll be speculating about me,†she replied. But she couldn’t hide her self-satisfied smirk as she buttered her toast.
–Only if you fly disastrously in your next match. And something tells me you won’t.†If she felt anything like him, she could fly across the ruddy channel without a broom.
–It’s dangerous for an Auror to confront dark wizards with such a cocky attitude,†she snorted.
–Good thing I have a desk full of paperwork then.â€
Harry had read enough of the Prophet while she was in the shower to concur with the reporter’s insight. And he’d be damned if he’d return to that dingy side of the looking glass.
He felt no qualms about leaving her to finish up the pot of tea. No doubt about it, the spicy sausages she’d fried up to go with their eggs were likely to make them both extra thirsty in the coming hours. All the better that he could accept Andromeda’s offer of some cold pumpkin juice with true enthusiasm.
–Just make certain you lock up,†he called over his shoulder. –I don’t relish another lecture about sloppy security measures from the Canary herself.†Somehow that woman always made herself scarce when he had company, yet nevertheless knew exactly what had transpired.
–Promise you’ll join up with the rest of us for lunch,†Ginny extolled. –Teddy won’t want to miss Victoire’s delight at her new pet.â€
–Wouldn’t miss it.†It was just the thing to strike a cheerful note among the gloomy cemetery faces that would gather for a late luncheon at the Burrow.
–Uno, we’ve decide to call it,†Ginny confided.
–In honor of her first birthday?â€
–That and the fact that you can’t house two Pygmy Puffs within twelve yards of one another without having a litter by the end of the week. And no one’s willing to brave Fleur’s temper if that were to happen!â€