Daoimear de Dán: Inné agus Inniu

Chapter Two- Of Potions and Paparazzi

Somewhere in North London, England.

"This is your flat," the rather overweight landlord told the blonde woman. "No pets, no smoking. You'll get your deposit back when you move out provided everything is in good nick."

"Right. Thank you."

"Lived in London before, have you?" the landlord asked conversationally. The blonde woman nodded.

"I grew up here," she said shortly.

"Been away, have you?"

"Yes," she said curtly, silencing the landlord. He handed her the keys with a slightly uncertain look on his face.

"Any repairs need doing, you just let me know. I live in the ground floor flat, Miss..."

"Just call me Katerina," she told him with a purposely bright smile. He nodded, now a little reassured that he was renting the flat out to a suitable sort of person.

"Anything you need," he told her.

"Thank you so much."

She watched the landlord go back down the stairs before locking the door behind her The flat was a plain, small sort of place without any distinguishing features, although it was clean and newly-decorated in shades of magnolia. She cast a discerning eye over the flat as she wandered through the living room into the bedroom.

She lifted up one of her suitcases and put it on the bed. Opening it, she disregarded the clothes inside, throwing them carelessly onto the bed. Instead she took out some framed photographs and began arranging them on the mantelpiece. The largest was of George Richards.

***

A picture identical to the one in the blonde woman's flat sat on the bedside table in Maura's bedroom. Next to her alarm clock, it was the first thing besides the glowing red LED display that she saw on waking up the next morning. It was eleven thirty in the morning, and this was quite early for her.

"Morning George," she mumbled at it as she awoke. She sat up in bed, her messy red hair sticking up in several directions. She had no specific appointments to keep today, and the complete silence in the house reminded her that Deirdre was back at school and so the house was hers alone.

Not that she didn't have things to do. Deirdre's garden needed tending to- she was very particular about her flowers and always worried that her mother would completely forget and they'd all die. She could do with giving the grass in the garden one last cut before winter too, but she might just wait until one of her magical mates came over and did it for her in minutes instead of mucking around with the ancient, rickety old mower.

She tumbled out of bed and wandered barefoot through the house to the kitchen. She pulled out a bottle of milk from the fridge and drank straight from it, enjoying the freedom of not having Deirdre moan that she should use a glass. She grabbed the owl post she'd received from where the owls had left them on the mat. She took a packet of prawn cocktail crisps from the cupboard and sat down to eat and read.

"Meet me for coffee at the Alley at one, love Narcissa," Maura read aloud. That cheered her up a bit, even though she knew Narcissa had purposely scheduled this meeting to keep an eye on her. She knew they all worried about her being on her own and was touched, in her own way, that they cared. She grabbed the next bit of post.

"We demand you have dinner at our house on Thursday. We won't accept 'no' or 'can't be bothered' for an answer, Ron & Dee," she read. "Well, I'm going to be a busy little bee, aren't I? Right little social butterfly."

She continued to read the rest of the letters. They were the usual sort of thing- requests to do this, that or the other, letters from magical schoolchildren in the middle of doing some sort of work about the war, letters from fans or the sort of magical people who didn't like how a Muggle was so much a part of their world. She always replied to the schoolchildren, she replied to fans when she had time (which she usually did) and used the other sorts of letters to start her fire.

Another owl arrived and she recognised this one as a Hogwarts owl. She grabbed at the letter greedily, tossing some crisps at the owl. She tore open the letter and read, as usual, out loud.

"Dear Mum, having lots of fun at school already, although Ashley Crawford has been made Head Boy. If he gives me any trouble I'll be sure to take your advice about kneecaps. I hope you're looking after yourself and not eating crisps for breakfast. Please, please, please remember to water the flowers every day while it's still dry there. I miss you lots already Mum, love Deirdre."

Maura sniffed and folded the letter carefully.

"She's a sweet kid, but I'll eat what I bloody like for breakfast."

She went to put the letter back inside its envelope and noticed another, smaller note in there.

"Dear Auntie Maura," she read out. "Having lots of fun back at school, although Flynn is still as annoying as always. I really don't know why you put up with him. Anyway, just a quick note because Deirdre's staring at me to finish and I'll be late to Potions. Just wanted to say that I miss you lots and I can't wait until you come and give us some more self-defence lessons because they're lots of fun. Ella and Rain and Paul say hello but Ella wants to know when I'm going to use punctuation. Eat lots of crisps for breakfast if you want, love your favourite goddaughter Kitty."

She laughed and folded the note up and put it with Deirdre's letter. She shoved the last of her crisps into her mouth, threw the packet in the rough direction of the bin and went into the living room. She put the letters behind the clock as she always did with Deirdre's letters. On looking at the clock she turned around.

"Better get ready. Don't want Narcissa thinking I can't look after meself or I'm going loopy. Talking to myself notwithstanding, of course."

***

"Maura, over here!" Narcissa Richards Black waved from a seat at Madam Sinta's. Maura grinned and bounced over.

"I'm spending so much time here Sinta's going to think I fancy her," Maura told Narcissa with a laugh as she pulled off her coat and sat down. "How's life?"

"I can't complain. Jamie's doing very well at school, Sirius is working hard. I took some photographs for the 100th anniversary edition of Witch Weekly. Just another day in paradise," replied Narcissa, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the tabletop. "I ordered you an Enervating Hot Chocolate."

"Thanks. It's pretty early in the morning for me."

"I know it is," Narcissa replied with a chuckle. "Have you heard from Deirdre yet?"

"Just this morning." Maura looked around the coffee shop curiously.

"Something wrong?"

"No... I just... I've got a weird feeling, that's all." She looked around again, but saw nothing odd or out of the ordinary. "Just... I had a weird feeling."

The waitress came over with their order and the weird feeling was forgotten.

***

September always seemed to go by quickly as children adjusted to being back at school and their parents adjusted to not having them around all day. And so the ninth month morphed into the tenth with ease as life continued, as life is wont to do.

"What are you reading about?" Harry asked his wife. As he had expected, he came home from his bar to find her in her study at the top of the house. Or rather, he found a desk piled high with books and assumed she was somewhere behind them.

"Hello!" she said with a bright smile as she stood up behind the desk. She held up her quill and tapped one pile of books. "That's research for the Witch Weekly column next week."

She tapped another pile and said: "That's for the Daily Prophet piece about antiquated and obsolete charms. And this," she held up the book she was reading, "is a book about ancient magical talismans."

"What's it for?" he asked. She looked surprised at the question.

"Fun."

Harry smiled and leaned gingerly over the books to kiss her on the cheek.

"You're a geek, Hermione."

"But you love me just the same."

"Yes I do," he said. He took another look at all her books. "I take it I'm cooking dinner tonight then?"

"Aren't you a darling?"

"Yes, I suppose I am."

"Do you have to go back to the bar tonight?"

"Have to show my face occasionally. I do own it, after all."

"All right."

"I can have dinner ready in an hour," he said. "And then I'll go over there. The sooner I turn up, the sooner I can come home to my beautiful girl."

"You're a real charmer Harry, but no amount of sweet talk is getting me away from these books until I'm finished."

Harry sighed dramatically as he turned to go.

"Fine. That's fine."

***

Harry Potter had established Harry's Bar on the shores of Lake Windermere some years before. Harry had opened the bar not long after the twins had started primary school. His choice of career had taken many by surprise, but all in all people knew that a bar-restaurant run by the Boy Who Lived was going to be a success. When the Daily Prophet ran a naming poll and out of 'The Firebolt', 'The Golden Snitch' and simply 'Harry's Bar', the latter was the overwhelming victor.

Although Harry's childish shyness had mostly been replaced with the confidence of a successful and happy grown-up, it did not apply to his fame. He was still not comfortable in a large crowd of people all calling his name and much preferred the comfort and security of his own relatively small sphere of existence. He had his family, his friends and his bar. Even when it came to the bar, Harry was a rather reticent host. Like Rick Blaine, he did not drink with customers and was often missing in action (or skulking in the stockroom or kitchens) on busy nights.

And yet, he enjoyed running the place more than he had thought he ever would. He enjoyed seeing people having a good time because of him, enjoyed the praise he and the head chef Rodrigo got for their food. The small element of extroversion in Harry Potter, which had been ground down by years living with the Dursleys, fed upon his role of host.

Tonight though, he just wanted to be at home. As yet another happy patron came over to offer him a drink, he thought of Hermione up in her study and Richard sat doing homework. He rejected every offer of a drink- it was his strict policy never to drink with people at the bar and he'd never broken it yet.

"Hey Harry!" He looked up to see Deanna Weasley bounding over to him.

"Hello Dee. What brings you here?"

"Ron and I are having a Romeo-free evening for a change," she said with a grin. "Or we will be when he turns up."

"Have a bottle of champagne on the house," he said, waving a waitress over, who took the order and bounced away.

"Thanks Harry. No Hermione tonight?"

"No. She's got a hectic old schedule."

"Had any owls from the twins yet?" Dee asked.

"Two lengthy owls from Ella, one hastily scribbled, almost illegible note from Kitty that I think mentioned the Quidditch timetable," he replied with a laugh.

Deanna returned laughed. They talked about unimportant things for a few more minutes before someone else joined the conversation.

"Harry Potter, does your wife know you're flirting with a beautiful woman?"

Harry looked up to see Ron walking over, grinning from ear to ear.

"Evening Ron," he replied. Ron slapped him on the back, kissed his wife and sat down.

"You're late," Dee said without anger, but a little frustration.

"My mother likes the sound of her own voice."

The waitress came over with Ron and Deanna's bottle of champagne.

"Thank you Saffy," Harry said with a charming smile as she opened the bottle and poured two glasses out. While Deanna took one glass, Harry left the other for Ron- he did not drink with patrons, not even when they were his closest friends.

"Sterling told me to tell you there's a small stockroom problem, Mr P," she replied quietly. He nodded and rose from his chair.

"I'll be back in a minute," Harry told his friends. "Thanks Saffy. Oh Ron, there's something I wanted to show you."

"All right then," said Ron jovially. They got up from the table and headed through a door marked 'Private'.

Twenty minutes later, Deanna was still sat alone, the bottle almost halfway empty and her glass drained. At Ruairi House, Hermione Potter was wondering what was taking Harry so long- she'd finished reading some time ago.

***

The Potter girls were not fond of Potions. Although Snape had mellowed a little with age (so they were told), the twins still found him to be the meanest teacher in the whole school.

For Kit Potter, it also held the added irritation of being a class with Flynn Malfoy. The two were famous for their long-held mutual hatred. Because Draco had become part of the large extended family, so had Flynn and so Kit had been forced to spend time with Flynn since they were babies. An incident when they were children involving a broken Kid Quidditch broom had damaged the relationship beyond repair and now they barely tolerated each other except for the purposes of winding each other up.

On this particular morning, Flynn was sat at his usual desk at the back of the class fiddling with a card. Snape was not there yet, and Kit decided to take advantage.

"What's that?" Kit asked, curiosity getting the better of her as she slid onto a chair behind another desk at the back.

"Nothing," he snapped. She went to grab it away from him and although he yanked it away, she was too fast. She moved out of his reach to read it.

"Happy birthday?" she asked, reading the front of the card. "But your birthday was in August."

"Give it back," he demanded in an imperious manner his grandfather Lucius would have been proud of had he not been vaporised trying to escape from Azkaban after the war.

"No," she said with a rather wicked snicker and opened the card to read it. "Fleur? Your mum signed your late birthday card 'Fleur'? What, 'mum' too good for the snotty cow?"

"Shut up!" he yelled, getting the attention of the entire room. His face went unusually red. "Give it back!"

Kit looked at him and realised that at some point (snatching the card, she realised a little too late) she had crossed the line. She handed it back without a word. He smoothed his hair back and sat down, shoving the card into his textbook.

"I bet Ginny gave you a much nicer card," Kit muttered. Flynn glared at her.

"Ginny got me a really nice card and a really nice present. Not that it's any of your business."

"There's no need to get snippy, Malfoy."

"There was no need for you to pry into my private business!" he shouted. The entire class turned around to look at them, all wearing 'not this again' looks on their faces.

"Don't shout at me," she screeched, hackles rising just in time for Professor Snape to walk in.

"Malfoy, Potter, headmistress now," he said, not having the patience with the pair to even bother finding out what had happened. His tone was not angry so much as it was resigned, and had the air of having been said many, many times before. Kit and Flynn both got up with the air of having been sent to see the head many, many times before.

***

"Professor Snape just owled," Harry said, popping his head into Hermione's study, where she was writing furiously.

"About what?" she asked with concern. "Order business?"

"Guess again," he said sombre-faced. Hermione threw her quill down.

"Not Kitty and Flynn again! Honestly Harry, I have tried with that girl, but she just doesn't listen when it comes to that boy. He hardly ever does anything to wind her up and still-"

"I don't think he's ever entirely innocent," Harry said reasonably. "Anyway, Snape just owled to keep us informed of the on-going saga. He sent them to McGonagall. I imagine we'll get an owl from her soon."

"Then I really wouldn't want to be in Kitty's shoes right now."

***

Kitty squirmed in her seat as Professor McGonagall fixed her with a steely glare. As the glare was turned onto Flynn, she tried to feel triumphant that he was in trouble too, but this had happened before and any novelty had worn off. This had happened many times before and she found it impossible to find any novelty in this experience.

"Would you care to explain why Professor Snape felt compelled to send you to me within minutes of your Potions class beginning?"

"It wasn't anything," said Flynn. Kitty looked over. In all their time as mortal enemies, he had never done anything that might bail her out her out of trouble. The card must've been more important to him than she thought.

"Wasn't anything?" McGonagall asked, not believing him. A wave of honesty washed over Kitty, as it always did when stared down by the Professor.

"I was being mean to him about a birthday card," she said.

"A birthday card?"

"Yes." Kitty looked the headmistress directly in the eye. McGonagall looked as if she might inquire further, but instead held out a tin to them.

"Have a biscuit each. I'll have to write to your parents again and tell them that you were sent to me again. Honestly, the term isn't even into its second month yet. I won't punish you this time, but rest assured that next time- if you are foolish enough to allow it- punishment will be swift and unmerciless. Go back to class and apologise to Professor Snape."

"Thank you Professor," said Kitty in her meekest voice, followed quickly by Flynn. They each grabbed a biscuit and left. Professor McGonagall sighed heavily and reached for some parchment.

***

"Oh bloody hell!"

Ginny Malfoy looked up from her account ledgers when the angry voice echoed off the walls of her home office. A second or two later the door was flung open and Draco was stood there, eyes flashing angrily, right hand gripping a note so tightly that it was almost entirely crumpled in his fist.

"Something wrong?" she asked with a smirk. She found him entirely too amusing when angry to take him very seriously. He did not return the smirk and she realised that this was not I'm-angry-because-I-spilled-tea-down-my-favourite-robe angry but I'm-genuinely-narked angry. There were only two things that could cause this reaction in him: his work and his son. Work had been fine today, so that left Flynn.

"What's up?" she asked, putting her quill down.

"Bloody Flynn!" said Draco, now pacing up and down the thick blue carpet.

"Draco, stop pacing, I like this carpet. Now, tell me what Flynn did."

"I'll give you three guesses, but you only need the first one."

"Let me guess," she said whimsically, trying to inject some humour into the conversation. "You've been sent an owl from Hogwarts... Flynn is in some kind of trouble... Hmm..."

"Ginny!" he snapped.

"I know!" she said with a bright smile, snapping her fingers "He got sent to see Professor McGonagall again for bickering with Kitty again."

"How do you do it, Marple?" he sneered.

"Hey! Don't take it out on me," she shot back. "It's not my fault. And you have to stop watching old detective programmes on The Muggle Channel."

Draco stopped pacing and sank down into the chair by the window.

"I just... They're so bloody immature."

"Yes Draco, they're children."

"No, they're fourteen. They should know better by now."

"What were you like at fourteen?" she asked, a glint in her eye. He sighed.

"Well... At least I was clever enough to sell information to Rita Skeeter."

"You sold her all the stuff she put in the paper?"

"I certainly didn't do it out of the kindness of my heart," he said haughtily. Then, he cracked the slightest of smiles. "I was still Daddy's boy at the time."

Knowing that his anger and frustration was now melting away, she got up and went over to him, perching herself on his knee. His arms went around her waist and he laid his head on her shoulder.

"Honestly Gin, kids are more trouble than they're worth," he muttered.

"You really think so?" she asked, tensing up in his arms.

"What's the matter?" he asked suspiciously. "What did I say wrong?"

"You... Um... Draco..." she stammered, thrown off by his sudden declaration.

"What?" he asked, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"You don't really think that, do you?" she asked again.

"I don't know."

"Well," she said. "I'm awfully sorry to disappoint you, but-"

"Ginny," he asked, light beginning to dawn. "Didn't you go to the healer today?"

"Yes."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're pregnant?" he asked. She nodded.

"I imagined telling you differently, but then you said that you thought-" Ginny was cut off abruptly by Draco placing a firm kiss on her lips.

"I'm a stupid, stupid man and you should pay me no heed," he told her. Then he smiled, a wide and open smile only Ginny and Flynn ever really saw. She returned it fully and breathed a sigh of relief.

"When?" he asked. "I mean, when is it... he... she... you know, due?"

"The healer estimated April or May," she said, waiting patiently as he did some sums in his head.

"But that means-"

"That you knocked me up before you married me?" she asked, eyebrow quirked to its fullest extent. "Yes. Well, it's most likely."

"Your brothers are going to tear me limb from limb. They will kill me. They will kill me slowly using ingenious devices from Arthur's shed..."

"Don't be silly, Draco," she said dismissively. "I don't plan on telling them just yet. And I don't intend telling them any specifics."

Draco smirked and said, "Under that red mane lurks a Machiavellian genius."

"Yes, and lucky for you," she said with a wink. He laughed and kissed her again.

"You know what?" he said. "I'm going to owl my miscreant son and tell him to stop winding up Kitty Potter... and to not get wound up by her. And then, we are going to sample the delights of the food at Harry's Bar to celebrate."

"I thought you said that the food there was only mediocre?" she reminded him. He grinned rakishly.

"I had to say that to Potter... to Harry, didn't I? I do still have something of a reputation to uphold," he told her in an uncanny impression of his father.

The sound of Ginny's laughter followed him out of the room.

***

Once Katerina was settled into her new flat, she wasted no time in getting down to business. She set up a shrine, complete with icons of pagan gods of all origins and kinds, and began the long, careful, rather boring process of finding the things she needed. From her living room she was able to start tracking down information to find the amulet she'd read so much about. She acquainted herself with every occult bookshop in Greater London- including one in the Seven Dials which was run by a man she suspected might be a real, live wizard. Although she'd been reading up on magic and wizards for years, she still felt a thrill of excitement at interacting with wizard-kind.

Except that for the past hour now, she'd been lurking in the backyard at the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for someone to pass through to Diagon Alley so she could sneak in. Did nobody need to shop at half past ten on a Thursday morning? She'd been to Diagon Alley before, when she was watching Maura at lunch, and she'd had no trouble following someone in then.

She heard female voices floating outside from the pub and she rushed to lurk in a shadowy corner of the yard. Two women, a brunette and a redhead came striding out.

"I'll do it," said the redhead, pulling her wand from a pocket in a blue cape. She tapped some of the bricks, and Katerina tried to memorise the sequence as she did it. The wall split open, reminding Katerina of a long-ago Charlton Heston movie for reasons she couldn't recall. The women passed through and she hurried after them.

She had been so caught up in following Maura last time that she hadn't really taken anything of the place into her consciousness. Diagon Alley was like nothing else she'd ever seen. It was not like the huge, expansive malls she'd been to in America, nor was it like a high street to be found in Britain. It was a tumultuous mass of curious looking buildings and it was much busier than she had expected. Witches and wizards passed by, clothed in all shades of the spectrum. None of them paid her any attention and after a minute or two lurking by the entrance to the alley, she began exploring.

"Need some dragon fangs, dear?" asked a withered old woman who fulfilled every witch cliche, shoving a jar under Katerina's nose.

"No thank you," she replied, deciding to make a beeline for the bookshop. She went inside Flourish and Blotts and found herself completely awed by the sheer number of books inside. She wandered amongst them for a few minutes and realised that all her questions might be easily answered in books here.

"Can I help you?" Katerina turned to find the manager stood there looking rather curiously at her.

"Yes, I hope so," she said, deciding that it might be a good idea to use the American accent she'd cultivated over the last twelve years. She pulled a list from her pocket and handed it to the manager. "I'm looking for these."

"Some of these are quite... obscure," said the manager, now looking suspicious. "What do you want them for, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I surely don't," Katerina said, flashing the manager a smile. "I'm an American researcher... I'm doing some work on amulets."

The manager nodded and waved a wand around. Books began flying off shelves and piling themselves onto the counter. Katerina smiled. The bit about amulets wasn't even a lie.

She had been chasing the amulet ever since reading about it quite by accident in a library book just like any other library book. She hadn't been in Salem, Massachusetts for much more than a couple of weeks when she found it. She'd been taking advantage of the witch-related tourist trade to research when she stumbled upon the answer to all her problems and prayers in a tiny passage no more than five hundred words long about an ancient amulet so powerful that it didn't even need a name. The book only told her that this amulet was practically all-powerful. That was twelve years ago.

Twelve long years that she spent quietly researching everything she could get her hands on. She limited her search to the USA where nobody had heard of Maura or George and there would be no questions asked. After the first year her money ran out and she was forced to waitress by night to fund her work. After five years she realised that even if she finally located the amulet, it would be even more complicated than she'd ever anticipated. All the while she smouldered, wishing she knew what Maura was doing, if she was miserable (Katerina hoped so) and what the girl Deirdre was like.

"The bill, miss!" the manager called sharply, waving a bit of parchment at her. Katerina was suddenly faced with the realisation that she had no magical money.

"I..."

"I'll keep them here while you go down to Gringotts and exchange your money," the manager told her. "Just don't take all day."

Katerina nodded, smiled again and headed out into the alley. Gringotts. She remembered seeing it last time she was here. She passed by an annoyed looking goblin as she went inside the white marble building and looked around.

It looked so like a real bank and yet so unlike one. She wandered through the foyer for a moment trying to ascertain where she should go. A sign above one desk announced 'EXCHANGE' and at the desk was sat a bored looking goblin, who didn't seem to get much work.

"Hello, I'd like to change some-"

"Are you looking to exchange international wizard currency or Muggle currency?" he asked, not looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

"Muggle, please." He sat up and looked at her curiously. Finding nothing amiss, he pulled out some parchment and inked his quill.

"How much?"

"Well... Do you take MasterCard?" she asked, waving a small rectangle of plastic at him.

The goblin rolled his eyes in a manner she recognised. It was that "Americans!" eye roll that she saw many times when she used her fake accent here in Britain.

"Yes we do."

"Then... fifteen hundred pounds, please," she said, handing over her little plastic card. He attached a normal looking charge machine to an odd looking magical device and swiped the card.

"Sign here, here, here and here," he said, pointing to several bits of parchment that seemed to Katerina to have filled themselves in. By the time she was done, the goblin had a pile of money waiting for her.

"Three hundred galleons. 200 in galleons, the other hundred in sickles and knuts."

"Thank you very much," she said, scooping them all into her bag. She smiled nervously at him and went back to the bookshop.

***

Shopping in Diagon Alley seemed to be exhausting work and it didn't help that she was carrying some of her books. The bookshop had arranged to send them to her address, but she'd wanted to keep a couple with her and they were heavier than she'd expected.

She slumped into a chair at the same table she'd had last time at Madam Sinta's Coffee Bean Emporium. When a waitress came over she asked for the same thing as before- simple, straight up coffee.

"Ginny, I'm telling you, Maura won't appreciate new robes, no matter what colour they are. She doesn't like fancy clothes!"

Katerina's head whipped up as she looked around to identify the voice. It was the pair who had allowed her entry to the alley earlier. She opened up one of her books and pretended to read as she listened in on their conversation.

"Well she'll just have to learn to like them," the redhead called Ginny said firmly. "I mean, Percy got an owl from the Australian Minister for Magic the other day. She said that it was very nice of Mrs Richards to go all that way to speak at the dinner, but couldn't she have dressed a bit smarter?"

"Ginny-"

"Oh come on Dee! You're a designer, don't tell me it doesn't drive you batty to see her in the same old clothes all the time."

"I know, but-"

"We'll talk to her when we see her at Narcissa's later!" Ginny said eagerly. Dee sighed and Katerina's brow furrowed.

It had not occurred to her that quite a few people would know Maura- she didn't know the moody girl had it in her to be sociable. This required more research before anything could be done. She jumped up from her chair, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, and walked briskly out of the coffeehouse.

***

"I do NOT believe it!" Hermione shrieked. Harry came bounding down the stairs, wondering what could possibly induce such a reaction in his wife. He found her sat in the living room, two halves of a copy of the Daily Prophet in her hands.

"What's the matter, love?" he asked. She looked up at him with fury in her eyes.

"Read this!" she said, throwing the ripped paper at him. He picked it up and within a second, the same expression of raw anger appeared on his face.

"I'll kill them," he growled. "Get that editor on the fire right now."

"You don't have to tell me twice," she hissed. He threw the newspaper down on the coffee table. The headline was "POTTER GIRL SCORES BIG AT THE BIG GAME" and underneath was a picture of Kitty Potter with the Snitch during the Gryffindor-Slytherin game the day before. She was smirking triumphantly, with a forlorn looking Flynn Malfoy in the background.

***

"Pretty Kitty caught the Snitch in an admirable thirty two minutes yesterday. She was playing in Hogwarts' biggest game of the year between Gryffindor and Slytherin," Ron read out aloud from the paper. "Well, that's a lie for a start. It was a friendly between the two. The big grudge match isn't for months."

"Yeah Ron, that's the important point here," Ginny said dryly. She took the paper from him and turned to the rest of the story on page five. There was a large picture of a group of Gryffindor students jumping around in celebration, including Deirdre, the twins and several Weasleys. "That's an interesting picture."

"Did you talk to Professor McG?" Maura asked, skimming over the article.

From what the Potters could tell, a parent had taken the pictures during the game and then sold them on to the Prophet. Now they were congregated at Harry's Bar with their friends as they debated what to do about it.

"My children were not put on this earth for those people to sell newspapers!" Harry shouted, pacing up and down, knocking a couple of chairs out of the way as he did.

"Harry, you need to calm down," said Sirius reasonably, although he looked almost as angry.

"We had an agreement with the press, didn't we?" asked Hermione in a low, controlled voice. "They would lay off the children. All of them. The twins, Ritchie, Deirdre, Rain, Flynn, Jamie... all of them."

"They said that the children of the Diamond and their friends would be left alone for the duration of their education," said Narcissa. "I was there when the editor said so."

"Well... the Prophet has a new editor," said Hermione. "After Benvolio resigned last week. I met her a couple of days ago. She must be behind their questionable policy change."

"Does she have a name?" asked Maura. "Address? Allergies? Weak points?"

"No violence," Hermione told her rather reluctantly. Maura slumped in her chair.

"Spoilsport," she grumbled.

"Well," Sirius said with a wicked smile. "There are more damaging things to do to the paper than kick the editor's head in."

"Like what?" Ron asked. Sirius smiled angelically. Hermione nodded, having cottoned on quickly.

"Which column in the Prophet has the highest popularity?" Sirius asked them. "Which column gives the Prophet a 25% circulation boost on the days it runs?"

"The Modern Witch, by one Hermione Granger," replied Ginny with an understanding smirk.

"Hand me a sheet of parchment," Hermione said firmly. "She leaves our children alone or she loses revenue. When it comes to them, it's as simple as that."

***

Kitty noticed the extra attention she was getting the moment she walked into breakfast on Sunday morning. Almost everyone at the four house tables was staring at her, while the teachers at the head table were looking at her with concern. Searching her brain, she couldn't remember doing anything wrong, stupid or plain insane, so dismissed it and sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"You're in the paper, Kit!"

Kitty turned to see who had called to her. Kiki Bathurst, Danita Weasley's best friend, was waving something at her.

"What's that?" she asked, grabbing the chocolate syrup for her toast.

"The newspaper," Paul chimed in. "You're front page news."

"You what?" she blurted out dumbly. "You're having a giraffe!"

"Giraffe?" Paul asked, brow furrowed with confusion.

"Giraffe, laugh?" she said. "Never mind. Why am I in the newspaper?"

"Someone took pictures of the Quidditch game yesterday," said Ella. "Apparently Mum and Dad have gone totally loopy over it."

"Well, it was a good game," Kit bragged.

"That's not why," Ella replied sternly. "You know they had an agreement to leave us all alone while we're still in school."

"Not to mention," Robert Weasley suddenly cut in "that studies have shown that the children of famous people are much more likely to be kidnapped or abducted if they have a high profile themselves."

Kitty sighed loudly and rather dramatically and said, "You both always look to the very worst case scenario. Aside from the fact that nobody could get to us here, who would want to kidnap me?"

Everyone at the table seemed to share an amused look before Paul said, "She makes a good point. I mean, who'd want to put up with Kitty?"

***

"Interesting," mumbled Katerina to herself on another visit to Diagon Alley. She'd bought that day's Daily Prophet: "POTTERS: PROPHET SAYS SORRY" and managed to track down the previous day's 'Kitty Edition' by the dustbins in the Leaky Cauldron's backyard. It would, she decided, be filed away with her small-but-growing archive of information about Maura and her circle of friends. You never knew what would come in handy. After all, a random moment in a Salem library had changed her plans and her life completely.

Her extensive research into magic had garnered her a fair amount of stolen magical power, mostly taken from ancient sources quite easily tapped if one knows how. During the day she travelled on a broomstick stolen from the Leaky Cauldron's backyard, using that stolen power to help her fly and navigate. She spent almost every hour of every day trying to watch Maura and the Diamond, as well as their friends and family. Katerina was a detail-driven perfectionist by nature and this new scheme suited her down to the ground.

She watched journalist/writer Hermione Potter go nearly every day to Diagon Alley and visit Obscurus Books, the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly at 18a, b and c Diagon Alley respectively, to hand in various parchments to her editors. She then usually shopped briefly at Dee & Gin's and much longer at Flourish & Blotts. Hermione almost always ate lunch on the Alley with Harry/Ron/Ginny/Deanna/Maura/her editor. Katerina watched as Hermione spent hours cloistered away in her study writing, breaking occasionally to cook dinner, talk to her husband or help her son with his homework. Hermione, she discovered, was not the most active of subjects, but provided Katerina with plenty of information for her archive.

Under the pretence of being an ornithologist bird-watching on the banks of Lake Windermere, she watched Harry at his bar. He had a very specific routine on arriving at work. First: unlock the doors. Second: turn on the lights. Third: open the few windows in the bar. Fourth: a brief check to make sure that there was enough stock at the bar for the lunchtime trade. After all this, he would disappear into the stockroom, she presumed to stock-take and do paperwork. He did this until the chef Rodrigo arrived to start preparing food and the bar staff arrived. Harry always then came back into the bar and discuss with the staff his plans for the day as far as his presence there was concerned. They'd then usually talk about any functions at the bar that day before moving onto personal and family news. From what Katerina could deduce, the head barman Sterling had just become engaged and Lilyella Potter was doing very well in her Arithmancy classes, while Kitty hadn't lost a Quidditch game yet.

She discovered that Ron rarely got out of bed before nine am, and only then if his son needed his attention or his wife woke him up. He usually dropped Romeo off at his mother's house if he had clients, before returning home to meditate for at least an hour every morning. Only after his meditation did he tackle any shaman work he had. Once his work was done, he'd retrieve Romeo (often, Katerina noted, staying to have lunch with his ever-attentive mother) and come home. Ron's life was so easy because shamanism paid well- especially when said shaman was also a famous war hero. He could easily get several hundred galleons for one trance and even had a few regular clients. Katerina noted that he charged corporate clients considerably more than small private clients. He was so sickeningly good, she thought nastily. She hoped to eventually pose as a client, but was concerned a trance might reveal her plans, and that wouldn't do at all.

She had a much greater challenge spying on the children of the Diamond. Hogwarts had left most of its wartime protection magic in place and she had no desire to reveal herself this early. Luck was on her side, however, as a Hogsmeade weekend came along and she was able to watch the children all day without anyone noticing. She was disappointed that they split up part of the way through the day- even with all her borrowed and stolen magic she couldn't be in two places at once.

She was left with some first impressions that anyone could come up with. Deirdre Richards looked a lot like her mother but seemed more like her father in demeanour. Kathleen Potter was the spitting image of her father and seemed like a more boisterous version of him. Lilyella Potter looked and seemed like her mother. Rain Weasley was more like her twin uncles (of whom Katerina knew only a little) than either of her parents.

However, Katerina knew that it couldn't possibly be this simple and that she needed to do much more work and research. She had found an obscure branch of Legilmency that a Muggle such as herself could probably manage that involved getting inside people's dreams. She would try that on the children first and if it was successful she'd move onto the Diamond itself.

She wasn't really too concerned with the Potters or the many Weasleys, although her perfectionism led her to study them in detail. The person she was concerned with was Hogwarts' adored and respected Head Girl Deirdre Marie Richards. She was the walking, talking, smiling, spell-making embodiment of all that was wrong with the world. In the proper world (had Maura not interfered) Katerina would be her mother. She would not be called Deirdre Marie but Bette Catherine Richards. She would be blond, not auburn-haired, and she would be much lovelier than the spawn of Maura Kennealy could ever hope to be. Yes, she thought darkly, Bette would have been quite wonderful. If it weren't for Maura. Life itself would have been quite wonderful if it weren't for Maura.

Katerina spent the bulk of her time watching Maura. The grand stately pile Maura had inherited from the heirs of her whorish queen ancestor had very little in the way of security that Katerina could see. It would be typically arrogant of Maura to think that she didn't need any security beyond her most excellent self. She could not though, believe the changes that time had wrought upon Maura. She still looked almost exactly the same as she had eighteen years ago (Katerina didn't get close enough to look for wrinkles or grey hairs) but this was not the Maura she remembered. Last time Katerina had seen Maura she had been cold, distant and cruel. The Maura she remembered had once hit a schoolteacher for suggesting she not wear trainers to school.

This Maura... This Maura smiled! This Maura had friends and family! Katerina had been watching her long enough to have seen the woman called Narcissa drop in several times. A cursory study showed that Narcissa Black was a cousin of George. Maura was family with George's family. This made Katerina angrier than anything else possibly could. Narcissa Black should've been visiting her for coffee and stories of George. She should be the one to receive handsome, well-dressed blond men with an odd name that sounded like dragon. She might need to investigate him some more.

Maura had friends. She had people that really cared about her. Katerina had never imagined that the Diamond was ever anything more than a technicality. Maura had friends. She had family. How could she have all of that after destroying Katerina's life? How could Maura possibly be happy? It was not fair that Maura should have everything and she, Katerina, should have nothing at all.

It was now not enough to put her amulet plan into action and then kill Maura. First, she had to destroy the bitch's life. She headed straight for her books.

***

After sixteen hours reading without any pause, Katerina found something that would suit all her plans. A simple potion found in one of the textbooks she'd stolen from Diagon Alley that would destroy Maura's life and get that famous Diamond out of her way while she carried out her other plans. Perfect.

***

To be continued.....