Will You Ever Return to Me?

Chapter 14.

September 2002, Salem, Massachusetts.

Harry stared at his arm--or rather, what his arm turned into. It was not a pretty sight. the lower arm looked normal, but it was sticking out of a large mass covered with black feathers. This was his third attempt at an Animagus transformation. It always ended the same way, no matter how much he tried to force the completion.

Harry took his wand, and turned his arm back to normal. He looked at Diana Clarence with disappointment.

"You're not concentrating sufficiently," the Salem Headmistress said.

This frustrated Harry to no end. "I don't see how I can concentrate more." When he first started learning this, he thought it would be like learning a Patronus. Now, the Occlumency lessons seemed a better parallel. Clarence was certainly a better teacher than Snape, but that didn't help.

"There's nothing that can be done about it--you're forcing your body into a shape it wasn't designed for. It has natural resistance, and you need mental powers to overcome it."

"I know. I just..."

"All right, Potter. What's on your mind? You were doing very well--you even know what your from will eventually be--and then, all of a sudden--"

Harry knew she was right. "Cincinnati," he said. "Voldemort's attacks always made sense. This..."

"You haven't been in the first war against him," Clarence said. "He didn't do much in America, mostly recruiting Death Eaters, so I wasn't in the thick of it. But Minerva and I corresponded a lot. She said that attacks were often for nothing--in some cases, truly random, with the victims decided by a roll of the dice."

Ginny entered the room. "Oh, sorry," she said, and made to leave. Ever since Harry started dating Megan, his and Ginny's relationship dwindled to nearly nothing. Once, he spent an evening in the infirmary with Ginny saying not a word while she worked on him.

"No, Ginevra," Clarence said. "We were just talking about Cincinnati--"

"Huh?" Harry asked.

"The Charms teacher of Cincinnati Magical Academy quit after the attack," Clarence explained. "Principal Wilson sought my advice for a quick replacement, an Ginevra asked me to recommend her, which I did."

"And he accepted," Ginny said. "Not like there was a flood of applications after--"

"Ginny--" Harry began, and cut himself off. What could he say? That there could be another attack? That was true anywhere. That he wanted her close by? She'd immediately ask why--a question he wouldn't be able to answer. That he wanted to protect her? Considering what that urge cost him last time, he wasn't about to try it again.

She looked ready for a challenge, but said nothing.

"Sit down, Ginevra," Clarence said. "We were talking about possible reasons for the attack."

"Oh," she said, and sat down.

"Ginny, are you trying to lure Hund out? With yourself as bait?"
"Of course not!" she said angrily. "I'm trying to gather information. I want to get Hund--and I don't see you having much success on that front."

That was cruel. That was even more cruel because it was true. Harry opened his mouth.

"Ginevra, apologize," Clarence ordered. "No one succeeded there yet."

Ginny sighed. "Sorry, Harry. As for the bait idea, I don't see why Hund would want me. I rejected his offer to work for him once, I'll do it again--"

"Professor, you told me that he views knowing his name as an honor--a sign that he respects that person."

Clarence nodded.

He turned to Ginny. "And he did give you his name."

"True," Ginny admitted. "I still don't know why."

"You're a powerful, smart, talented, attractive young woman," he said, smiling.

Ginny smiled back. "Thank you. Maybe. But somehow, I don't think it's that. And I want to learn more about what happened. This attack made no sense."

"That's what I was saying, Professor," Harry said. "The attacks you mentioned differed in one aspects--they were constant. Day after day, week after week--people were afraid of their own shadows. That was the purpose. Not that it isn't a good thing, but the Cincinnati attack was the only one recently." The only one since what happened to Xenophilius Lovegood and Augusta Longbottom, anyway.

Clarence nodded. "True--although, look in the Muggle world. 9/11 was also isolated."

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I was still in Azkaban when it happened. But with that attack, the shock came from sheer scale. If the death toll at Cincinnati was several hundred people, that'd also change things. As it is..."

"Well, if it was Hund behind it--and I think it is, but the MLEA is very quiet about it, so we don't know for sure--then it did have a purpose. Hund never does anything for no reason," Clarence said.

"I know," Ginny said. "I'll try to find out what that reason is, Professor."

"You're leaving tonight?" Clarence asked.

Ginny nodded. "Thank you Professor." She stood up and hugged the old woman. "Harry..."

He looked into her eyes. "Ginny... I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't... I didn't..."

"What're you trying to say, Harry?" she asked, softly.

"I..." He didn't quite know what to say himself. "I care about you, Ginny."

"I know," she said. "That was never the problem."

Harry didn't want to tell Ginny to be careful--well, he did, but he didn't want her to take that the wrong way. "Take care of yourself, Ginny," he said. "Good luck."

"Thanks," she replied, and, surprising Harry, hugged him tightly. "You too."

"I'll miss you," he said, honestly.

"We'll see each other again," she assured him. "And we could write--which reminds me. I got this this morning by owl," she said, and took out a large envelope out of her back. She reached inside it and pulled out a smaller, letter-sized envelope. It was addressed to him!

"Here you go," she said. "Apparently, someone decided to contact you through me--I have no idea why he'd think I'd be able to, though."

"Thanks, Ginny. I'll have to open and find out, won't I?"

She smiled. "Good-bye, Harry," she said and hugged him again. "Good-bye, Professor." She left the office.

Out of the window, Harry watched as Ginny left the building, crossed the grounds to the edge of the SWI territory, and Disapparated. He then turned back to Clarence.

"I wonder who, after all this time, would contact me through Ginny..." He picked up the envelope.

"Potter, that could be dangerous," Clarence warned him. He waved her wand over it. "Hmm..." she said. "It's magical, but not dark. That doesn't mean much, however."

"We were just talking about living in fear, Professor. If an envelope can make us do this..."

"I know, I don't like it, but you can't be too careful."

Harry sighed. "Well, I'm not wasting months, like they did with my Firebolt," he announced, picking up the envelope and opening it.

And immediately regretted it as he was caught in the swirl of a Portkey.

XXX

Harry sat on the floor for several seconds, blinking, under bright electric lights. Then he stood up, still dizzy from the experience of Portkey travel. He was in a long corridor with uniform gray walls and a soft blue carpet. It was neither warm nor cold, and the air smell artificial. Harry saw nothing else--no doors, no windows, no furniture... an empty, featureless corridor.

He turned around, and corrected himself. He was facing the same corridor, but it was shorter, and a red exit sign glowed at the end. Harry walked towards it and opened the door.

He whistled. A dimly lit staircase headed down... for what seemed like forever. Leaning over the railing, he looked and couldn't see the bottom. He then looked back at the door. A large number 101 was printed on it. Looking at the staircase, he had no doubt that the number was telling the truth.

Harry went back into the corridor. He didn't fancy the idea of heading down 101 flights of stairs... the only good thing to say about that prospect was that it was better than having to head up 101 flights of stairs, thought not by much. If he could find an elevator, or better yet, if he could find whoever masterminded this in the first place and give him a few good hexes...

He headed down the corridor. It didn't change, didn't show anything. The only way harry measured progress was by periodically looking back. The exit sign was getting smaller. And then...

Harry stood in front of a solid wooden door. He reached for the handle, almost expecting to get stung, and, surprised that he wasn't, turned it. He stepped into a well-lit, spacious office. The chair behind the desk had its back to him, so he couldn't see if anyone was there.

Then the chair began to turn, and the man in it faced Harry. "Welcome to Chicago, Mr. Potter," Alan Hund said.