The Secret Magic Of Potions And Daggers

Chapter Nine

Harry couldn’t find Genevieve over the next few days, though he checked her wardrobe every time he came or went from the common room. He would have worried but the amount of homework he had to do as well as Quidditch practices often pushed her out of his mind. Saturday morning while eating breakfast he looked up to see Nearly Headless Nick floating by the table. Harry and Ron looked at each other, both realizing they hadn’t seen him since the ball.

“Where have you been Nick?” Harry asked, feeling guilty for not having noticed until now that he’d been gone.

“Nowhere in particular,” Nick stopped and surveyed Harry’s breakfast of bacon and hash browns. “I’ve been looking for that friend of yours, Morgain, have you seen her.” Harry looked around and not seeing her just shrugged his shoulders. Nearly Headless Nick floated away, jolting the memory of Genevieve and his promise to Sirius back into his mind.

“Ron, let’s see if we can find Genevieve today.”

“Alright Harry, but we’ve looked for her before. She could be anything, anywhere. How are we supposed to find her?”

“She didn’t feel up to magic when we saw her last week, maybe she’s herself. It’s worth a look.”

“Or find a really cold place full of ghosts,” Ron suggested. Harry stood to leave and saw over the heads of the other tables Morgain talking to Nearly Headless Nick. They were whispering, though so animatedly one would think they were yelling but the sound had been muted. Ron stood and saw them too. “If you want to find Genevieve, those two probably know.” Ron nudged Harry and they walked to where Morgain and Nick stood. Harry piqued his ears to hear what they were talking about but the whispers were too muffled. Morgain saw him approach out of the corner of her eye and broke off the conversation before he could get any closer.

“Hi, Morgain. We’ve been looking for Genevieve. You wouldn’t by chance know where to find her?”

“Where have you looked,” she said angrily.

“Her closet mostly,” Harry replied sheepishly.

“Maybe if you look in more than one place, you would have a better chance of finding her.” The hostility fuming from Morgain was not only uncharacteristic, but unwarranted, thought Harry.

“Is there something wrong Morgain?” he asked sheepishly.

“And I thought my sister could be aggravating.”

“What was that about,” Harry asked Nearly Headless Nick.

“I shouldn’t really tell you, but…,” he leaned close to Harry’s ear, “her sister wants her to go home. She thinks it’s too dangerous around here, with the Death Eaters so close, for Morgain to stay.” Nick then straightened his shoulders and looked from left to right, to make sure no one had seen him whispering. “I believe you will find Genevieve on the back lawns now that the snow has melted.” Nick then strode through the wall and out of sight.

“Shall we,” Harry invited Ron, extending his hand toward the door.

“After you,” Ron replied with his hand out. The two walked together into the Entrance Hall and out the front doors.

The snow may have melted but the air remained crisply cold. Small shoots of grass poked through the dark earth which squished noisily beneath their feet. Harry and Ron walked to the back of the castle, but stopped suddenly when they heard noise coming from the direction of the forest. A soft hymn floated toward them from which Harry could see Genevieve laying on the soft soil staring at the gray sky. They approached cautiously, not wanting to surprise her.

“Genevieve,” Harry yelled still some distance from her. She turned her head slowly in their direction then looked back at the sky. As Harry and Ron got closer they could see coins littered the ground, while one floating above her head began another song. Harry and Ron sat cross legged a few feet away from her listening to the music. When the song ended the coin fell and landed on her forehead, but she was too lost in thought to notice. The wind through the trees was the only sound they heard now. Suddenly Genevieve rolled to her side, leaning her head on her hand, her elbow sinking slightly into the earth. She looked directly at Harry who stared curiously back.

“Do you know what I learned from Fudge last week?” She said abruptly. Harry and Ron sat in silence shrugging their shoulders. “I am the monster every child fears is in their closet.” She took a deep breath and lay back down. “Funny, my husband’s name was Harry, bless his soul. He was so good and kind. He didn’t care what I looked like or about my past you know. Best Muggle I ever met. When I was first pregnant and discovered my child was to be a Muggle I cried.”

“How could you know your child was a Muggle when you were pregnant?” Harry interrupted curiously.

“Simple. I could not take the form of anything inanimate, and those things I could change into he wouldn’t change with me. He was always just a beautiful human child.”

“I’m sorry for the interruption.”

“That is quite alright.” Genevieve sat up, no longer idly rambling but involved in the story. “I cried because my dreams of a child I could raise as I was raised were shattered. After a while I consoled myself with the thought that he would never be hunted or undergo the same struggles I did. But it still happened, he’s dead and I couldn’t save him.” She picked up a coin at random from off the grass and flipped it playing Pachabel’s Cannon in D. “I always liked this song.” She said sinking to the ground again drifting away mentally.

“This is going to take drastic measures,” Harry said in a low voice to Ron. “Follow my lead.” Harry stood up and grabbed the coin out of the air.

“Genevieve, it’s time for you to do something.”

“Like what.” She looked at him curiously.

“Anything, but you’ve got to get out of this slump. Go help a ghost, or do research for the trial.” She sat up, her face set very serious.

“Haven’t you heard Fudge is prosecuting? The ministry doesn’t care if I’m guilty or innocent. Three months after my execution when they realize that Voldemort has not been hindered in the least they will not regret what they did to me. Rather they will continue to feel as though a great public service has been done by way of preventing children’s nightmares. I don’t matter to them, and quite frankly I don’t matter to me anymore either. Almost everyone I’ve ever cared for is dead and by the end of this mockery they’ve termed a trial I will be joining them. In the meantime, I think I’ve earned the right to be a little depressed.” Harry stood over her as she spread out on the ground sulking.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He took one hand and Ron grabbed the other. Together they pulled her up to standing. “There are a lot of things for you to do around here, a lot of ghosts to help like you did with Nick, right. You can’t give up now.” She took a few steps away from the boys and spoke with her back to them, hanging her head. “I can’t help them, or anybody anymore. I’ve been taking stabilizing solution since Fudge left and promised to continue it until the trial so that he wouldn’t ship me off to Azkaban. I’m just too tired.” Harry considered her for a moment until he finally came up with an idea.

“You can’t give up now. You are the last person alive who knows my family’s history, you can help me by recording it all.” Genevieve raised her head and turned to look at him with a hint of a smile. “It would be a pleasure to remember those again and to make sure they are not lost to antiquity. Let’s get started right away.” Sparks shown in her eyes and she purposefully walked toward Harry, grabbing his hand. “We will record it onto coin disks, do you have your wand?” She led Harry and Ron to the side of the castle and kneeled down facing the sloping lawns, in the shade of a small tree.

“Yes, I have it here.” Harry extracted his wand from the folds of his robes.

“Perfect.” Genevieve reached into her bag and pulled out the glass case of coins Harry had seen before. She dumped them into her lap sorting through them to pull out an old corroded coin with a hole in the middle shaped like a star. Harry and Ron watched with interest as she placed in into her palm and slowly closed her fingers over it. Then, palm up, she unfurled her pinky finger, then the ring finger, middle and index slowly in succession. When her thumb fully extended the coin spun, but made no noise. Next to it she flipped into the air a shiny new disk. Then, she touched the base of Harry’s wand to the old coin and pointed it toward the new. A very old voice croaked the word “recodre” shooting a small light from the old disk to the other. When the beam was finished the old coin landed softly in the grass and she placed Harry’s wand next to it. Genevieve recognized amazement on the faces of her young friends and laughed out loud.

“That is the easy way to make these. What we are saying now is being recorded onto this one.” She pointed to the shiny new coin. Harry reached for the old coin but Genevieve stopped him. “I wouldn’t touch it if I were you. It is probably still hot.”

“But what just happened.” Ron looked from the spinning coin to the one on the ground to Genevieve. She smiled, and Harry thought it was nice to see her do so.

“Thousands of years ago a wizard made that old coin, placing in it the proper words and mental force. When Harry’s wand came close it cast the spell to make a new disk, which is spinning and therefore recording right now. Speaking of which, you two had better run along. You can listen to the stories later, go enjoy your Saturday.”

“But I want to listen now,” Harry protested.

“You’ll make me nervous,” she wrinkled her nose in a big smile. “Besides, some of these stories will make more sense when you’re older. Off you go.” She waved them away, but before they turned the corner to the front of the castle Harry looked back to see Genevieve leaning against the wall speaking with such enthusiasm she could not contain her hands.

“That was quite the transformation,” Ron recalled with a low sigh once inside the castle.

“Sirius, I mean Snuffles, said that she needed something to keep her busy or she would lose hope. He was right on there.” Harry and Ron picked up their bags from their dorm room to join Hermione doing homework in the library.

Weeks flew by in what seemed like minutes, and it was a rare occasion that anyone saw Genevieve. She spent most of her time either in her wardrobe or on the edge of the forest talking to her self, or so most students thought who saw her thus engaged. Harry hadn’t bothered to set them right and after a while no one saw or spoke of her. One Wednesday afternoon Dumbledore excused Harry from Charms to talk with him.

“Harry, Genevieve told me what you did for her and has asked me to give these to you.” Dumbledore handed him a long, thin wooded box. Harry opened it to find twelve coins, neatly arranged and separated by slots. “That is a valuable and irreplaceable gift containing a wealth of knowledge.” Dumbledore looked admiringly at the case of coins. Harry nodded, also in awe of what he held.

“Where is she? I’d like to thank her.” Harry said, closing the box carefully.

“Genevieve left this morning for the ministry buildings with Hagrid. The trial starts on Friday.” Harry looked up surprised.

“Already. She is going to be alright isn’t she?”

“If Sirius meets us there in time, she will have a chance. You ought to pack your nicest robes. Meet me in the entrance hall tomorrow morning.”

“But what can I tell them?”

“The truth, but we can speak more of it on the train. It might be best though, to leave those disks here.” Dumbledore left him to feel the gravity of Genevieve’s position until Harry quietly went to the common room to pack.

“I can’t believe you are going to miss the last Quidditch match. Since Ravenclaw beat Slytherin it should be pretty cool to see Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff go, and we don’t have to worry about Malfoy gloating.” Ron told Harry while helping him to pack a small suitcase.

“I know I want to be there. But this is more important.”

“I guess you’re lucky Harry,” Ron said, helping Harry carry a suitcase down the stairs. “You will miss the Herbology test today.”

“Luck,” Hermione huffed at the base of the stairs. “He’ll just have to make it up later.”

“No he won’t,” Morgain stepped forward to pull Hermione out of the way so the boys could get off the staircase. “Dumbledore fixed it with the teachers, he won’t skip a beat.”

“How do you know that,” Harry said putting down the case.

“I have a few sources,” she smiled. “I made this for you.” She pulled a leather bound book out of her pocket and handed it to him.

“Thank you, but what for?” Harry replied flipping through the blank pages.

“So you can write what happens, that way your descendents won’t have to depend on oral traditions.” He watched her smile with the knowing expression she so often took, and put the book in his pocket.

“Look in the spine.” Morgain added. Harry pulled the book out of his pocket and flipped the book around a few time confused. Morgain took it from him and pressed in the middle of the spine. Harry heard a small click and a secret spring loaded compartment revealed a miniature silver pen. “That way, you don’t have to worry about spilling ink on the train.” She replaced the pencil into the book and gave it to him again. Harry accepted it in greater appreciation and smiled at her before picking up his load and heading through the portrait hole.