Cherchez La Femme

CHERCHEZ LA FEMME PART 1: Strangers in the Night

Harry Potter walked quickly along the darkened country lane, intent on reaching the Burrow and escaping the chilly autumn evening. He'd just flown to the edge of Ottery St Catchpole following a visit to the Diggorys, with whom he'd tried to stay in touch ever since Cedric's death ten years ago.

The visits always made him feel guilty, though, like he should have donated his Triwizard prize money to a charity such as the Squib Job Training Trust, or the Home for Aged Aurors. So Harry liked a walk to clear his head and to remind himself that giving Fred and George seed money for their now-thriving business had brought more pleasure to people's lives than a Cedric Diggory Memorial plaque on a wall would have done.

Harry tried to shake off his gloomy thoughts. He'd come off what felt like an extremely trying week in town and was looking forward to a weekend with the Weasleys. Ginny was the only Weasley offspring still living at home now, but Ron was down for the weekend, and Sirius had become a sort of long-term houseguest, so almost all Harry's favourite people would be waiting for him.

The walk turned out to be further than Harry had remembered, and the vision of the Weasleys' warm, bright kitchen proved very appealing. The night was quiet, with the only noise the sound of faint owl hooting. Harry smiled, thinking of Hedwig and wondering if she was enjoying a night hunt.

A flash of motion captured his attention and he reached inside his robes for his wand. A pale young woman stood at his side, an almost translucent quality emanating from her slight form. Harry judged her to be in her early twenties. Her silvery-blond hair hung limply down her back and her eyes darted nervously like those of a hunted creature. She grasped Harry's arm and asked, "Is this the way to London?"

Harry started involuntarily when the woman touched him. Her hand was so cold he wondered if she could be a ghost. His fingers tightened around his wand, and after uttering a quick 'Lumos' he turned the light in her direction.

The woman cringed at the light and withdrew into the shadows. "I have to get to London."

Harry peered at her. "Why? What's wrong?"

"I haven't done anything wrong. Why do you think I did?"

Harry reached into the darkness and drew her forward, wincing again at the coldness of her skin. "I don't think you've done anything wrong - more like someone did something wrong to you. Are you okay?"

The woman appeared relieved once she understood his meaning. "You're right. Someone has treated me badly. But they won't treat me like that again, not once I'm in London."

"Is that where you're from?"

The hunted look returned to her face. "I was there once, years ago. How far is it?"

Harry did not respond immediately. He rarely encountered anyone near the Burrow, especially not Muggles. But if this woman was a witch, she should have been able to Apparate to London. Then he remembered something Mr Weasley had told him years ago, that many wizards disliked Apparating. Still, there were other means. And this woman didn't seem to know any of them - not even how to flag down the Knight Bus - leading Harry to conclude she must be a Muggle.

"It's too far to walk," he said at last. "You might be able to catch a train at the village. Or if the last one's gone, you could call a taxi."

"No, no trains." The pale girl shook her head. "I've got to go now, before they come."

"Who?" Harry tried to look at her more closely in the darkness. "Who's after you?"

A fierce look crossed her face. "I'm not going back."

"Okay, take it easy. If you come with me, I can take you somewhere safe."

"Thank you," she said, an apologetic tone creeping into her voice. "You must imagine what it is like for me, alone on this dark road." She watched him steadily and Harry could feel her gaze linger on his scar. "But perhaps you can't imagine. It is much easier for a man to travel alone at night."

Both of them paused suddenly as the distinct sound of popping filled the silence. In that split second, Harry reached into his pockets, extracted his Invisibility cloak and tossed it over the girl. "Don't move," he ordered and shoved her behind him, just as three wizards appeared in front of him.

Wand still at the ready, Harry stared at them. "What's going on?"

The men hardly seemed to have noticed him. Rather, they were peering about in the bushes, wands drawn.

"Have you seen a young woman, blond, disoriented?" the nearest wizard demanded of Harry.

"Why?" Harry stared at the man and noticed his grey robes had 'St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries' embroidered on the upper left front corner.

"A patient has escaped from St. Mungo's Hospital," the man informed him in clipped tones. "She is a danger to herself and others and must be returned immediately."

Harry paused for a moment, considering. The girl under his cloak was surely the patient in question, but something held him back and made him say, "I haven't seen anyone."

The man did not seem surprised. He nodded, indicated to the others he was ready to leave, and with another pop, the group Disapparated.

Harry stepped backwards and hissed, "Okay, you can take that off now."

When nothing happened, he reached out a hand behind him, expecting to feel something, but found nothing but air. He stared about, looking for some evidence of the girl and his eyes fell upon something shimmering across a tree branch - his cloak. He strode over to the tree and swiftly grasped the filmy material. The girl had vanished.

"Good of her to leave my cloak," Harry muttered, further confused. If the girl was a witch - and Harry couldn't think of too many other people who could vanish at will - why hadn't she kept something as valuable and rare as an Invisibility cloak? And while she had seemed disoriented, she'd hardly seemed dangerous. Harry had seen the truly insane - he recalled his encounter with the unfortunate Mr Crouch years ago, when he was still at school - and his work as a member of the Ministry's most elite Auror unit brought him into contact with a variety of people, not all of whom were in total possession of their wits.

Shaking his head, Harry stuffed away his cloak and wand and began walking briskly towards the Burrow.

**

Inside the Weasley house, Harry was welcomed by Mrs Weasley, Ron, Ginny and Sirius Black.

"Harry! At last - where have you been?" Mrs Weasley fussed and began bustling about, taking his travelling cloak and handing him a steaming cup of tea.

"Thanks. I, er, decided to walk home after seeing the Diggorys and -" Harry stopped abruptly. Suddenly his actions around the unknown woman seemed absurd. Instead of mentioning her he said, "- and I always need a little time after talking with them."

Mrs Weasley put a motherly arm around him. "Of course, dear."

Harry took a seat in front of the fire and stared moodily into the flames. Sirius pulled up a seat next to him. "Something on your mind, Harry?" he asked in a low voice.

"Several things."

Sirius said no more, but simply sat beside Harry as both drank their tea. In the other room, Ron and Ginny bickered lightly, but Harry could not join their carefree mood. For some reason he kept feeling he had let the stranger down, yet he also felt he should have turned her over - it was what any sane wizard would have done.

Pulling himself back to the present moment, Harry reminded himself how much he'd been looking forward to seeing Sirius that evening. Although Sirius had been formally cleared of murder charges four months ago - thanks in part to the law firm for which Ron now worked - the decision had not been without controversy, and Sirius remained unwelcome in much of the magical community. Decades of suspicions and fear died hard.

"Why don't you go and chat with Ron and Ginny," suggested Sirius, noting Harry's distracted air. "They've been waiting for you. We'll have all weekend to talk."

Harry ambled into the kitchen. For a moment, neither sibling registered his presence and he observed them freely. Even though they had been out of school for several years now, Ron and Ginny looked more like their teenage selves than adults. Perhaps this was due to the fact that Ron had just put a tickling charm on his younger sister, who now ran shrieking from the room and smack into Harry.

"Finite incantatum," he said and she fell against him, still gasping with laughter.

Ginny straightened, bounced her palms off his chest and took a step backwards. "Thanks." Then she glared across the kitchen at Ron.

"You make me tremble for our safety, you really do," Ron said to his sister, obviously relishing this opportunity to engage in some older brother teasing. "What kind of Auror are you if you can't block a simple tickling charm? You'll never get promoted at this rate."

Ginny tossed her head and stalked towards Ron. "Do you really want to see what kind of Auror I am?" she said menacingly.

Ron merely crossed him arms and raised one eyebrow at her. "Going for the indoor record on late come-backs, are you?"

Harry caught Ron's twinkling eye and, raising his own wand, was about to aim another practical joking curse at her when Ginny whirled around, shouted "Expelliarmus" and caught Harry's wand in her left hand.

Without bothering to notice Harry's open mouth, Ginny addressed herself to Ron. "That is the kind of Auror I am." She swiveled back to face Harry. "Here's your wand," she offered and tossed it to him.

Both Ron and Harry eyed her with new respect. As she sauntered towards her brother Ginny added, "Looks like you just set a new record for complete lack of comebacks. But you already held that one, didn't you?" she teased. "And you, Harry - I expect more from someone who has a national magical holiday named after him."

Harry groaned. Harry Potter Day was a continual source of intense, agonizing embarrassment for him. In this case, a memorial plaque would have suited him just fine. Even a large piece of statuary placed at the site of Voldemort's defeat would have been preferable.

"Let's see if your analytical skills are as good as your dueling," he offered, changing the subject slightly. The three of them took seats at the well-scrubbed kitchen table and Harry outlined his strange encounter on the way to the Burrow.

"She must have been part veela," Ron declared on hearing the tale. "That would explain a lot."

Ginny smirked. "You'd know, wouldn't you?"

Ignoring his sister, Ron continued. "Maybe it was Fleur Delacour."

"Just because she failed to notice your existence ten years ago you think she belongs in an asylum?" snorted Ginny. "And you call Percy Mr Bighead."

"It definitely wasn't Fleur." Harry was silent for a moment, then said, "Well, I expect the St Mungo's mediwizards will find her soon enough. If she's as ill as they say, she can't have got far."

**

The next day passed quickly. With Mr Weasley now a Deputy Minister of Magic and special attaché for Muggle Relations, his job duties frequently took him away from home. Harry knew Mrs Weasley was anxious about this, and while she would never come out and say it, she did mutter quite a lot about how Arthur should be thinking about retirement at his age, not taking on more responsibility. Harry was glad he had some time to spend with her and knew Sirius' presence also made a difference.

His was not the only company Mrs Weasley appreciated, however.

"I know it's been frustrating to you this year, living at home, but I think your mum really appreciates it," Harry told Ginny one sunny afternoon. She and Harry were de-gnoming the garden together, Ron having returned to town to see Hermione.

"It's not so bad," Ginny panted, flinging a gnome across the hedge. "Anything to make her feel better about my being an Auror." Ginny placed her hands on her hips and imitated her mother's voice, "Of all the things to do, Ginny! Think how I'll feel when your hand of the clock is always on 'mortal peril' - why would you ever choose such a career?"

Ginny dropped her hands to her side and forced a laugh. She had never answered her mother and sometimes still asked herself the same question. Ginny hadn't been through situations like Harry, who had seemingly been born an Auror. Except for the Chamber of Secrets incident in her first year, she'd never come close to an evil as powerful as Voldemort. But she'd always done extremely well in Defence Against the Dark Arts; none of the strange creatures Professor Lupin or the others had presented disturbed her, and both learning and deflecting hexes came easily.

She turned to Harry, a streak of dirt showing across her cheek. "Anyway, Ron comes down as often as he can, and where you find Ron you usually find Hermione. And now there's Sirius, and you - it's a full house."

"Right." Harry grinned at her, swinging a gnome above his head. "And I don't suppose Seamus has anything to do with your being so cheerful?" He let go and the gnome sailed to the field beyond.

"Maybe a bit." Ginny admitted with a smile. "Still, living at home does put a cramp in one's love life. Mum still waits up for me. Honestly, the first two months we were together, every date was like some chaste, third-year, hand-holding thing. It took forever before we finally hooked up." Blushing at her own confession, Ginny busied herself with another gnome before adding, "Of course, as far as Mum's concerned, everything is still completely chaste."

Harry merely raised his eyebrows at her and grinned. He'd been surprised when she and Seamus had started seeing each other - Seamus had a bit of a reputation as a ladies' man - but he seemed completely smitten with Ginny, and she with him.

"How about yourself?" she asked, taking a break to wipe her face, an action which merely added a dusty smudge across her nose.

Harry shook his head. "I don't have time for a social life."

"Too busy de-gnoming gardens? Honestly, Harry, for someone who's been voted Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor seven years in a row you could get out a bit more."

"I think that's got them all." Harry gestured at the garden.

"Don't try to change the subject."

"Ah, come on Gin. You don't expect me to challenge Lockheart's legacy, do you?"

With an exasperated groan, Ginny punched Harry on the shoulder and trudged back to the house. "Seamus and I are going out later. Why don't you come with us?"

"Thanks, but I need to spend some time with Sirius."

They had reached the back door, where Ginny tugged off her wellingtons before stepping inside. "Okay, but next time you're not getting off so easily," she said, then dashed upstairs in her stocking feet.

Harry wandered into the sitting room, where Sirius sat reading the Daily Prophet. "Not still reading letters to the editor are you?" he asked lightly, glancing over his godfather's shoulder.

Sirius folded the paper and set it aside. "Got to keep up with my fan mail," he joked, but his expression was glum. "Even though I resigned that Ministry post after only one week, people are still writing letters denouncing me. Lot of good that acquittal did me. I couldn't get a job as demon-catcher these days," he sighed.

"Er, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh? Got a job for me with the demon pound?"

"No, not exactly." Harry outlined his meeting first with the mysterious stranger and the men of St Mungo's, as well as his and Ron's hunch that the woman was part veela.

"Could be," Sirius agreed. "But what's this got to do with demon catching?"

"Nothing. But I want you to help me find her."

"Don't you think the St Mungo's mediwizards have found her already?"

"I suppose. But I feel responsible for her somehow. I told her I'd bring her someplace safe and I didn't." Harry stared at the fireplace.

"Because she ran away," Sirius pointed out.

"Maybe. Or maybe someone else got to her." Harry stood up and began pacing. "I thought she was a Muggle but if she was in St Mungo's, there's something else going on. Listen, all I'm asking is see what you can find. If anyone knows how to live underground it's you."

"Sure you're not just succumbing to that old veela charm?" Sirius smiled.

"Maybe," admitted Harry. "All the same, I'd like to know."

Sirius stretched. "Seeing as I'm free, I suppose I could help you out."

"Thanks."

"On the condition you get out a bit more. Ginny's right - you should have a social life at your age."

"Were you eavesdropping? She told me that outside!" Harry cried, alarmed.

Sirius smiled again. "Dogs have very good hearing, my boy."

Harry scowled back at him. "Don't see you getting out, meeting the ladies."

"Harry, nobody in the wizarding world will give me a job or rent me rooms, and only a handful will even invite me to their homes. Somehow this doesn't seem the time to make my move into high society."

Their attention was diverted by a sudden whirling in the fireplace. Moments later, Seamus Finnigan stepped out, dusting off ash and running a nervous hand through his sandy curls.

"Ginny around?" he asked.

Harry and Sirius both sat back and grinned at Seamus' obvious nervousness. Even though they'd been seeing each other for almost a year - a personal record for Seamus - he still seemed amazed at his good fortune in capturing Ginny's attention.

"She's getting ready," said Harry. "Have a seat."

"Thanks." Seamus settled himself at one end of the sofa.

"How's Gringotts?" asked Sirius, from the other end.

"Good, good." Seamus had recently distinguished himself by becoming Gringotts youngest fund manager.

"So where are you and Ginny going tonight?" As soon as he asked, Harry realised he and Sirius were doing a perfect imitation of Mr and Mrs Weasley. All he needed to do now was inquire about Seamus' intentions.

But Seamus didn't seem to notice. Instead he groaned, "Some experimental theatre group performance up at Diagon Alley. A bunch of her friends from the feminist witches collective are putting it on. She sat through an eight hour Quidditch match last weekend, so I agreed to this."

"And compromise is the essence of every lasting relationship," joked Ginny as she sashayed into the room.

All three of the men turned and looked at her. She wore short, funky robes and dangly silver earrings. "You look great," said Seamus, standing up.

Sirius also stood, and glanced from Harry to Ginny to Seamus. Harry didn't notice; he was still seated, staring at Ginny. She had let her hair loose from its usual ponytail and it cascaded past her shoulders against the deep blue of her robes. She looked older than he usually considered her. And sexy, he realised, noting with alarm that her hem barely skimmed past her thighs. Good thing her mother wasn't around at the moment.

Sirius cleared his throat and said, "Have a good evening, you two."

"Thanks." Ginny smiled at Seamus as he helped her into her cloak, then scattered Floo Powder into the flames before them. As she took Seamus' arm, Ginny sneaked a look at him. When Seamus was in a good mood, his eyes seemed to have a perpetual little twinkle in them, as if he'd just heard something both naughty and funny and hadn't yet decided whether to tell anyone else.

"See you later." With a little wave, she stepped into the fireplace and disappeared with Seamus.

**

Ron and Hermione were having an argument. Neither of them was taking it very seriously, mainly because both knew Ron was destined to lose. They leaned against the tall pub table where they stood, their glasses before them, and bickered over where to spend the rest of the evening.

"Didn't we just go to some performance art thing?" asked Ron.

"That was over a month ago. Besides, this is to support Ginny's friends," Hermione said.

"Isn't it enough I go to your things?"

"She's your family. Of course we have to go."

"But Ginny's not even performing. She just organised the thing."

"We're going," Hermione said in a final tone. "Besides, I think you'll like this. It's a witch-positive, revisionist staging of Macbeth."

"That sounds interesting," ventured Neville. Ron and Hermione turned to look at him. They'd both forgotten he was with them. "We read it in Muggle Studies one year," he added with an apprehensive look at Ron.

"Fine." Ron rolled his eyes. "Let's just go now so I can get a seat at the back. The last time you dragged me to one of these things we ended up front and I had to do audience participation, remember?"

"I remember." Hermione smiled over at him as they walked out to the street. "And you looked really cute in that tutu."

Halfway to their destination the trio met up with Ginny and Seamus. Hermione, Ginny and Neville walked together, chatting about the play. Seamus and Ron hung back so that Seamus could provide Ron with the final score of the Chudley Cannons match that had ended earlier that evening.

"Heard it on Wizards Wireless Network, right before I went to pick up Ginny," Seamus offered as Ron groaned on hearing of his team's loss. "Close one, right until their Seeker missed the snitch."

They walked along in silence for a moment, watching Ginny talk animatedly to Hermione ahead of them. With a slight frown, Seamus said, "Ron, I hope you don't mind the fact that Ginny stays over at my place when she's in London?"

"Seamus, I don't care. It's none of my business." Ron walked a bit more quickly.

"Yeah, but she's your sister, and I know your mum is a little old-fashioned and it's not like she stays in the guest room -" Seamus broke off with a grin when he saw Ron's horrified face.

"Too much information, Seamus! I really, really didn't need to know that," Ron grimaced, placing his hands over his ears. "Besides, if there's anyone whose approval you need to worry about it's Percy's. Fortunately for you he's in Albania for eight weeks, trying to help them meet British cauldron-bottom standards. Apparently when You-Know-Who was there he was extremely lax on cauldron thickness. Naturally, Percy is just sick about it."

Ginny and Hermione turned around. "We're here," they announced brightly.

Ron held open the door for them, and as he and Seamus followed the group inside, Seamus said, "Look at that, Ron. I reckon you might get to wear buttercup yellow tonight," and nudged him in the direction of a display of Elizabethan gowns.

Even Neville laughed as Ron did a slow burn, and none of them noticed the pale young woman who pulled back into the shadows just outside the door.

**

Sirius loped along the deserted country lane. It had been a long time since he'd adopted his dog form; after living as a dog for so many years he enjoyed being human far too much to transform very often but in this case he needed the speed, anonymity and sense of smell his animagus self afforded. Finding the spot Harry described, he searched for some scent that would help him track the woman. Yet after a thorough search of the area, Sirius popped back to human form. He couldn't smell a thing except Harry.

Puzzled, Sirius illuminated his wand and searched the area carefully for visual clues, but this proved another dead-end. Not even a leaf seemed disturbed, so if someone had stolen her away from under the Invisibility cloak, they'd done it without leaving so much as a footprint. Knowing the woman was headed for London, Sirius Apparated straight to Knockturn Alley, which seemed the likeliest place to go if you wanted to avoid being found.

Whereas pubs in Diagon Alley and elsewhere were closing down by the time Sirius arrived, life in Knockturn Alley was just getting started. Sirius glanced around him as he strolled down the street, giving a menacing look to anyone who approached him, particularly the heavily made-up hags in revealing robes. He ducked into Borgin and Burkes. If the girl had been at St Mungo's, Sirius was guessing she didn't have any money and might have visited the shop to sell something.

"Sirius Black," greeted Mr Borgin with a crafty smile. "So honoured you're visiting us. What can I show you this fine evening? A chain collar, perhaps? Or a replica of Peter Pettigrew's finger - they're selling like hotcakes now, you know. The young people like to wear them as pendants."

Sirius sighed very noisily, more like a growl, really, and approached the counter. "I'm looking for a girl."

Borgin's smirk increased. "In that case, I suggest you look to the street beyond. I deal only in collectibles."

"She may have come in here recently," continued Sirius. "Early twenties, long blond hair, dressed in grey?"

Borgin's eyes never blinked. "Sorry. I'm afraid I don't recall a young lady of that description. But then, my memory is notoriously poor."

Sirius grunted. "Right. That help refresh it?" he asked, sliding a gold Galleon across the countertop.

"I'm sorry, Mr Black, but nobody - "

Sirius slapped down another coin. Mr Borgin stroked his chin.

"Now you mention it, someone might have come in, yes. If only you'd told me straight away you wanted a locket I could have been much more helpful," Borgin said. He stepped around the counter and slid back the door of a glass case. Reaching inside he withdrew an engraved pendant.

"She sold this to you?"

"Claimed it was a family heirloom. Very tearful at parting with it, I can assure you. Useless bit of rubbish. It hasn't shown any signs of Dark Magic," Borgin said with irritation. "The most I could coax it to do was snap at my finger."

"How much?"

"One hundred Galleons."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "One hundred Galleons for a useless bit of rubbish?"

"I need to recover my costs. Paid the girl far too much. But that's me, always one to fall for a beautiful girl's hard luck story."

"I'll give you ten."

"Fifty."

"Fifteen," growled Sirius, with a look that would make most men pale.

Borgin, having had years of experience with a shifty clientele, merely said, "Done," and snatched up the locket. Striding over to the main counter, he completed the transaction and wrapped the necklace in tissue. "Hope to see you again, Mr Black," he said. "Always a pleasure."

Sirius exited without a word, the small parcel grasped firmly in his hand. It was now nearly midnight. So she was in Knockturn Alley. That didn't bode well, but feeling he was hot on her heels, Sirius continued down the street to the Cleland Arms, which served as both a pub and an inn of the less reputable sort.

He made his way past hags, the odd leprechaun and several grizzled warlocks gripping drained shot glasses. Just as he was about to repeat his inquiries to the bartender, a young witch in bright make-up clattered down the stairs from the rooms above. She wore very little but seemed insensible to her state of undress or the effect it had on the pub's patrons. Instead, she was shrieking with the kind of fright one rarely heard from a Knockturn Alley regular. When she reached the landing that looked out onto the bar, she stopped running and screamed, "He's dead! Dead! It was a vampire done it! Somebody come quick!"

Sirius flattened himself against the wall as pandemonium broke loose. A large part of the population fled for the front door, while an interested minority bolted up the stairs after the young witch.

The bartender hadn't done anything during the preceding confusion, just continued filling the glass he'd begun and placed it in front of where Sirius had been standing. "Eight sickles," he said and began polishing a glass.

Sirius paid, picked up his drink and asked, "Mind if I take it upstairs?"

"Please yourself."

Once upstairs, Sirius stood at the back of the small crowd that clung to the open doorway. A few had ventured inside and were bent over the bed. Even from his distance, Sirius could see the splatter of red and saw that it came from the man's neck, where two small marks continued to ooze blood. The witch sat on the only chair in the room, sobbing. An older hag draped a cloak over the younger woman.

Anything to do with bite marks made Sirius feel he'd best get out of the way. All he needed was for someone to decide he had done this in his dog form. He placed the pint glass on the balcony railing and went out the back way. On the streets, people were rushing by with new urgency and muttering about the murder that had just occurred. Sirius ducked into an alcove, checked to make sure he still had the locket, and Disapparated back to the Burrow.

He arrived with a pop in the Weasley's sitting room. Harry was still awake, staring drowsily into the fire. He sat up straighter when Sirius appeared and pushed back his glasses. "What'd you find?"

Sirius crossed the room and sat next to Harry. "Started out pretty well. Found out she'd sold this to Mr Borgin," he shoved the small packet into Harry's hand, "then thought she might've looked for lodgings down the street."

Harry busied himself unwrapping the tissue. The necklace dangled from his hand. "And?" he asked, looking back at Sirius.

"And everyone was a bit distracted there on account of a vampire biting some unlucky punter."

"Vampire?" Harry frowned. "Don't get many of those nowadays. Are you sure?"

"Well, I didn't perform a close inspection, but from what I saw it looked like it. Anyway, I think your mystery lady is in London. If you've got some time tomorrow you might check things out."

"Thanks, Sirius." Harry tried to make out the forms that were elaborately engraved on the silver disc. "Anything inside?"

"Careful," Sirius cautioned. "Borgin said it snaps."

But Harry had already opened the locket and it appeared as harmless as the jewelry owned by his Aunt Petunia. He did jump back, however, as something glittering and soft slithered out and landed on his lap. Reaching out, he picked it up. A lock of blond hair shone against the light of the glowing fire embers.

"Don't you find it kind of weird to carry around a lock of your own hair?" Harry asked, examining the ringlet with both fascination and distaste.

"What makes you think it's hers?"

Harry replaced the hair and snapped the locket shut. "It's the same colour. But you're right, I guess it could be anyone's. Can you figure out what's written on the front?"

Sirius examined the engraving. "No. The etching is so elaborate, and unfortunately it's seen better days. It's all a little faint." He handed it back to Harry. "Let's take another look tomorrow."

"Sorry." Harry looked guiltily at Sirius sprawled out on the sofa. "I guess I can be a little single-minded when I get onto something."

"That's okay." Sirius smiled tiredly at him, then stood and headed upstairs.

Harry listened to Sirius' heavy footfalls receding but remained by the fire, turning the silver circle over and over in his hands. It had a nice weight to it, and the patina that comes with pure silver. Ginny and Sirius had told him to get out more, he thought to himself with a smile. Maybe he'd finally found a woman worth pursuing.