Cherchez La Femme

Further Acknowledgements: As always, big hugs to my beta-reader Wotan.

 

CHERCHEZ LA FEMME 4: Reunions and Revelations

"Lucky thing I finally recognised you," Harry had joked on opening the door to his flat and ushering in Gabrielle. "I always like to know a girl's name before I take her home."

But Gabrielle hadn't understood his joke, and Harry had refrained from saying much else that evening; his many questions would have to wait until she'd caught up on her sleep.

Harry stayed up most of the night, dozing off occasionally in the chair by his bed where Gabrielle slept. He kept replaying the night's events in his mind, going over their conversation and hoping he'd done the right thing bringing her here rather than straight to the Auror offices. Somehow that had seemed too impersonal.

After rehashing all the details he could recall from his Leaky Cauldron encounter with Gabrielle, Harry’s thoughts turned to the time of her disappearance, near the end of his sixth year at Hogwarts. That would make Gabrielle just about ready to start at Beauxbatons, Harry realised. But rather than begin studies that would have allowed her to develop her rare talents, she had received an unwanted education in the Dark Arts.

Wishing it were a decent hour so he could consult Hermione, who would doubtless have better recall of the Daily Prophet coverage of the Delacour kidnapping, Harry tried to remember what he’d heard or read. He recalled with a smile that Ron had been excited about Fleur’s scheduled visit to Hogwarts; she’d been working as a liaison between the French and British Education Ministries and had been about to address the school regarding study abroad opportunities. Ron had showed him the photograph in the Daily Prophet of Fleur, Dumbledore and the Education Ministers from both countries. But before Fleur had even reached Hogwarts her younger sister had disappeared. The case was big news, and the Delacours had offered a handsome reward should Gabrielle be found. But then school had ended for the year, Harry had returned to the Dursleys and he hadn’t seen wizarding news until the next school year. And by then, other things came to occupy his attention…

The last time he’d seen Fleur had been a couple years after he left school. She’d finally given up searching for Gabrielle, had assumed she was dead, like so many others.

Shaking off those memories, Harry roused himself from the chair and went to the windows, scanning the grey dawn skies for a sign of the delivery owl bearing his morning newspaper. Eventually it came and he settled back in his chair, unrolled the paper and tried to read, but his tired eyes could do little more than scan headlines.

When Gabrielle woke up, Harry was leaning back in the chair, the paper spread across his front.

"I was dreaming about you," she said, shaking back her hair and raising herself on one elbow.

Harry kept his eyes closed. "I bet you say that to all the guys who find you on a roadside and take you home."

"Harry!"

At this he reached up, tossed the newspaper aside and looked at her with an apologetic smile. He kept forgetting about Gabrielle’s impaired sense of sarcasm. "Sorry. Joking. How do you feel?"

"Okay." She tried to smile but Harry noticed the anxious look returning as she glanced around the room. Everything, even his simple flat, seemed to fill her with dread. "What happens now?"

"Technically I should take you directly to the Auror offices. Well, if we're being technical I should have taken you there last night."

"Thank you for bringing me here instead."

Harry nodded. "We still have a lot to talk about. How much, exactly, do you remember?"

"About what?"

Harry waved both his hands in an impatient gesture as he said, "About anything. Do you remember being kidnapped? How did Malfoy know you were a Seer? What did he want you to do for him?"

Last night Harry had thought Gabrielle's glassy-eyed expression was a combination of exhaustion and amnesia. Yet even now, after a long rest, the same expression settled over her features like a mask. "I don't remember much about that at all," she said finally. "My childhood memories are very…scattered."

She closed her eyes and spoke quietly. "I remember visiting England once, with my mother. I don't know where we were. Not London."

"Hogwarts," Harry interrupted and couldn’t help smiling. "That's when we first, er, met. But you probably don't remember that, either. I pulled you out of a lake."

Gabrielle opened her eyes and looked at him amusedly. "You did?"

"Yes."

"Why? What was I doing there?"

"Long story. Let's get back to yours," he said hastily, not wanting to think about the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

"That was when I met the man with the eyes?"

"Dumbledore," Harry provided.

"Yes. I don't know how much longer it was until he came for me - years, perhaps. We were visiting London. I had seen the - seen Dumblydorr again, he gave me the pendant. I think it was supposed to bring good luck."

Harry interrupted again. "Not exactly. It’s a protective talisman. Dumbledore must’ve known something was up and was trying to protect you."

Gabrielle regarded him thoughtfully. "I didn’t know. But it would explain something."

"What?" Harry leaned forwards eagerly.

"When I was first at the hospital that Malfoy man saw my necklace and tried to take it, but he couldn’t. When he touched it, he let out such a scream I could never forget it. He never tried to do it again, didn’t even lay a hand on me."

Harry stood up and paced the room. "You must have been at the Ministry of Magical Education offices when you saw Dumbledore again – Fleur was about to visit Hogwarts. Dumbledore went down to London, gave you that talisman – what happened next?"

"We were in a crowded street, we were in a hurry." Gabrielle squinted, trying hard to remember. "Mother was calling to me to hurry up and then…"

"And then?" Harry prompted gently.

"I don't know." She looked at him blankly. "I don't remember."

"How did Lucius know you were a Seer?" Harry tried a different tack.

"I have no idea. The first few years at the hospital are such a blur. It was so awful - I remember not being able to speak to anyone because I didn't know English. He forced me to learn. It is ironic," she mused, smoothing back her hair. "Now I do not remember my own tongue. Only his."

"Do you remember things he would ask you to do?"

Gabrielle shook her head. "No. Really, all I remember is sitting in my room for hours, for days, always alone."

Harry nodded sympathetically. He had anticipated Lucius Malfoy would have taken a number of precautions to cover his tracks. "I'll be right back," he said and disappeared into the next room.

Digging through a box, Harry pulled out an album containing all the cuttings from the year of the Triwizard Tournament. Hagrid had kept it and given it to him, but Harry never looked at it if he could help it. Now he flipped through the pages, looking for a photograph of the champions and their families, taken right before the third task.

"They look familiar?" he asked, returning to Gabrielle's side and thrusting the aged cutting at her. Fleur stood flanked by her mother and by a very young Gabrielle.

He watched closely as Gabrielle inspected the photograph. Her face was at first puzzled, then amazed. When she looked up at Harry, tears stood in her eyes. "My mother! My sister!" she exclaimed in wonder, and Harry covered his mouth to hide the smile her words had provoked. If only Seamus could have been there.

"This is me?" she pointed to the little girl version of herself.

"Yeah."

"Are they - are they still alive?" she asked tentatively.

Harry nodded. "Yes. They looked for you for years, it was a big story here."

Gabrielle couldn't tear her eyes away from the waving images of her mother and Fleur. Watching her, Harry was suddenly reminded of when he had first seen images of his family in the Mirror of Erised, and then later in the photographs Hagrid had collected for him.

"You can keep that," Harry offered. Then he dug into his pocket and held out the pendant. "And I think this belongs to you, too."

"My necklace!" Gabrielle reached for it eagerly and promptly slipped it over her head. "I should never have sold it, but I hadn’t any money – it was the only thing of value I owned. You bought it from that awful man?"

"No. My godfather did. Sirius Black. After I saw you that first time, I asked him to help me track you."

Gabrielle bounced across the bed and engulfed Harry in a hug. "Thank you," she said, then sat back. "This Sirius Black - he must be a wonderful man. I must thank him."

Harry smiled. Gabrielle was one of the few people in the magical world who would respond with such glee at hearing Sirius's name. "He is. You can."

"Listen, Gabrielle," he began, placing a hand on her shoulder and regarding her seriously. "I know you've been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours, but I really do need to get you to headquarters. Your family should be notified, and we have a number of experts who can help you begin to recover your memory."

Gabrielle shrank back from him. "Do we have to go now?"

"I think it'd be best." Harry realised she was wearing nothing but one of his tee-shirts, which while suitable as a nightgown wasn't exactly appropriate for going out. "Um, I guess you might want a change of clothes."

Gabrielle looked over at her ragged robes. "It would be nice, yes, but I hardly think you will have anything suitable."

"Not me. Hang on," said Harry, and disappeared again from the bedroom. Settling himself before the low fire, he tossed in some powder and called Ginny. No answer at her fireplace, so he tried again and got Seamus' tousled head.

"Seamus, is Ginny there? I need to speak to her - it's urgent business."

"Just a minute." Seamus was replaced by Ginny, who looked considerably perkier than her boyfriend.

"What's up?"

"Are you alone?"

"Yes." Ginny's expression grew worried. "Harry what's wrong? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I just need you to do some things for me and I need them done quietly. Meet me at our office in twenty minutes and bring some extra robes with you. And don't say anything to anyone - not even Seamus."

Ginny stared. "Harry, you're starting to worry me. Are you positive you're okay?"

"Yes," he nodded impatiently. "Just do what I told you and meet me right away. You'll understand when you see me."

Ginny's face had just disappeared when Gabrielle strolled in. "Who are you talking to?"

"My partner. She's going to bring you a new set of robes to the office. But we need to hurry."

He could tell Gabrielle remained reluctant to leave the comfort and quiet of his flat, but she simply returned to the bedroom and emerged a few minutes later fully dressed and looking remarkably beautiful, he noted, given the circumstances.

* * * * *

Ginny was already waiting for them. "Harry, what is going on -" she broke off on spying Gabrielle and clapped a hand to her mouth. "Oh my god, is that - it can't be - you're the one we've been looking for?" Ginny finally concluded, staring at Gabrielle.

Harry grinned. "Gabrielle, meet my colleague, Ginny Weasley."

Gabrielle had been looking puzzled during their exchange, but now smiled and extended her hand to Ginny.

"I brought you something, just like Harry asked," Ginny babbled, shaking out green robes. "They might be a bit long," she added, sizing up Gabrielle.

"I'm sure they'll be fine, thank you," said Gabrielle.

"You can change in my office." Ginny offered, and they all proceeded down the corridor, Harry stopping at his office.

Ginny leaned a hand against his doorframe and raised her eyebrows at Harry as Gabrielle continued walking ahead. "I trust you've notified the director?"

"Should be here any minute." Harry glanced down at his watch. He hoped she would be so pleased and possibly even dumbfounded over his locating Gabrielle Delacour that some of his more unorthodox decisions would be overlooked.

* * * * *

Fleur and her mother Apparated to London immediately. Harry had a job of it, trying to keep the two women in his office. Their sole aim was to see Gabrielle as quickly as possible and they pulled out every Veela charm they possessed in an effort to do so.

"I’m sorry, Fleur," Harry said, more firmly than he felt. "Gabrielle herself requested you not be shown back to her rooms until she has completed the official debriefing. We have to recover as much information as she can give us, and as I’ve explained, her memory remains severely altered. She won’t really know you."

Fleur slid off Harry’s desk and smoothed her robes down over her thighs with a noisy sigh. "I do not believe my own sister would refuse to see me."

"She’s not refusing. You don’t understand how exhausted she is."

"Are you telling me I do not understand my own sister?"

At that moment, Ginny walked in and Harry felt immensely grateful. "Harry’s saying nothing of the sort," she said crisply to Fleur. "Now if you’ll come with me, ladies, I’ll fill you in on the information we have at this time."

No sooner had they departed than a secretary announced Sirius was waiting for Harry in reception. Harry had owled him to come in to give his account of events at Borgin and Burks and the Cleland Arms.

"How is she?" Sirius asked when Harry came out to meet him.

"They’ve been evaluating her all morning." Harry sighed, then added, "I think she’ll be happy to see you. She was very appreciative when I told her you’d rescued her necklace from Borgin."

They were halfway down the corridor when Harry saw Gabrielle’s attending mediwitch, and asked, "Any more news?"

"We’ve completed our preliminary analysis. Of course, a complete recovery will take months."

Harry sagged against the wall, suddenly feeling very tired. "Do you think she will recover?"

"Oh, certainly enough to lead a normal life. But there may always be gaps in her memory and there’s the fact that she has had no magical education. That will have to be attended to somehow, especially given her particular abilities."

"So what’s the problem?"

"Harry," she began, using the gentle tone one assumed for breaking bad news to someone, "when I first examined Gabrielle, I said the charms were too strong to break through right away. Many of them are. But what’s odder is that there are several sections of memory which show little to no modification."

"So she’s been lying?" Harry asked, puzzled.

The mediwitch shook her head. "She may have simply repressed the memories. The areas deal with times when she was forced to use her divination abilities for the Death Eaters’ purposes. She’s witnessed – and participated in - some terrible things yet she cannot recall them. I’ve collected these memories in a Pensieve, but she has no first-hand recollection of the experiences herself."

Harry frowned. "That doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t she remember? Those must have been some of the few times she was allowed to be completely lucid."

Sirius spoke up. "It makes sense to me. Who would want to remember the most horrible parts of their life? I was in a place for a dozen years where that was the sole purpose – to force you to have nothing but your worst memories. Shut up in St Mungo’s like that she’d have to block such memories if she wanted to stay sane. And I’m sure her captors were betting on that."

The mediwitch agreed. "It's possible, yes. Since Seers are so rare, we know little about how their magic works. I do know the Seer’s mind must be absolutely clear in order to perform advanced divination work. That means the Death Eaters would have had to relax the memory enchantments and stop using obscuring potions before having her work for them. It’s possible they were unable to completely modify everything to do with her divination work."

"How likely is that?" wondered Harry.

"I don’t know. This is only one theory. As I said, we don’t know much about Seers and this is a very unique situation." The mediwitch continued. "Another possibility to consider is that she was somehow complicit in working for them. Perhaps she struck a deal with them."

"But she was only a child! Surely she couldn’t –" Sirius interjected, but was silenced by the witch raising a hand.

"I’m merely considering all possibilities, Mr Black. It’s what we have do to here, no matter how unpleasant or unlikely, right Mr Potter?" She looked to Harry.

"I suppose," he agreed reluctantly. "I’d have to agree with Sirius, though – based on what I know about Gabrielle, I can’t believe she would willingly have helped Voldemort."

"How well do you know her?" asked the mediwitch.

"Well enough." Harry’s jaw was set at a determined angle and he appeared to be considering something. Finally he asked, "What sort of things did you see that she'd done?"

She put several rolls of parchment into Harry's hands. "It's all in my report, along with the other medical assessments she's been through. You can view the Pensieve too, if you like. As you might imagine, we’re keeping it under extremely tight security. Once she’s stronger, and has been able to break through the modifications placed on childhood memories, she’ll need to view the repressed memories herself."

Harry nodded. "So you're finished for today?"

"Yes. She's too exhausted to push her any further."

"Can her mother and sister see her now?"

The mediwitch smiled. "I think that would do her a world of good." Then she glanced at Sirius. "But for now, she should see only her family. As I’ve said, she’s exhausted."

Sirius nodded. "I’ll wait in your office, Harry."

"Thanks." Harry moved down the corridor, stopping to usher Sirius into his offices, then continued until he reached Gabrielle's door, where he gave a tentative knock.

"Come in." She smiled as he entered. "My family is here," she said, before he had even opened his mouth to tell her this news.

"They are. And they’re practically beating down the door to see you. I’ve been holding them off as long as I can and now Ginny’s got them."

"She will be more effective, I’m sure."

"Thanks a lot."

"You know what I mean." Gabrielle stretched a hand out towards him. "Come here."

Harry obliged. He’d had enough of resisting Veela today.

"Thank you for all you’ve done for me, Harry." She took his hand lightly in her fingertips. "I know you have experienced added difficulties because of me."

"Don’t worry about it."

"It is serious. I owe you my life."

"Don’t get melodramatic. I was just doing my job."

"Were you?" she looked into his eyes and Harry suddenly felt uneasy. Abruptly, she dropped her gaze and said, "I am ready, whenever you can show my mother and sister back."

"Right away." Harry edged near the door and began to open it. "Gabrielle, even after you’re released from the infirmary here, you know you’ll have to stay in England? There’s treatments for you and the more memory you recover the more my office will need to take down that information. It may be quite some time before you can return home."

"What is home to me now?" she asked with a characteristic Delacour shrug. Harry didn’t say anything, just walked down the corridor to retrieve the Delacours. Then he walked more slowly back to his office, locked the door and began to read Gabrielle’s medical report.

* * * * *

When Madam Delacour and Fleur were informed of the fact that Gabrielle would have to remain in England indefinitely they did not protest, but merely began discussing housing options.

"She will not like ze ‘otel for such a long stay," worried Madame Delacour, pacing around Gabrielle’s room, which was feeling quite small that day, filled with three Delacour women, Sirius and Harry. "Perhaps we should look for a house?"

Fleur nodded.

Sirius, who had been watching and listening throughout their extended negotiation, finally cleared his throat and said, "Or you could come stay at my house."

"Your ‘ouse!" Madame Delacour looked as if Sirius had just invited her to sleep in a cattle shed. "I was under the impression you 'ave no ‘ouse."

"Not exactly." Everyone’s eyes were on Sirius, even Harry’s. "I just haven’t had access to it until now. Ownership was tied up in the courts, pending my acquittal. Now that I’ve been cleared, the Ministry has returned the property to me."

"Sirius, when did this happen?" asked Harry.

"Just a few weeks ago. It’s very large," he added, "although I’m not sure of the condition. It’s been a few years since I’ve been there."

"More than a few," added Harry, astonished. He also felt curious, having wondered since he was thirteen what Sirius’ house looked like.

"If your house has been shut up all these years there is no way we can move Gabrielle to such a place. It will be full of dust, it will not be pleasant. She is very sensitive." Fleur stood in front of her sister’s bed.

"I have amnesia, not asthma." Everyone jumped at the sound of Gabrielle's reproachful voice.

"We have disturbed you," worried Madame Delacour, hurrying to her daughter's side.

Gabrielle shook off her mother's fluttering touch and looked at the small group with bright eyes. "I want to go to Sirius's house," she announced. "Anywhere to get away from here."

Harry nodded. "Assuming we can protect it with the proper enchantments, Sirius's home may well be the safest place for Gabrielle - outside of here, that is," he said, gesturing to the Auror offices. "And this is no place for long-term convalescence."

"I have no doubt it is obscure and remote," said Fleur tartly, arms still crossed as she addressed Sirius. "But if you ‘ave not seen zis house in so long, what makes you think it is even standing, let alone in livable condition?"

"The Ministry looks after its property," Sirius explained, a note of bitterness creeping into his voice. "I think they were looking forward to auctioning my place off – would have brought quite a few Galleons to the Treasury."

"How accessible is your house?" Harry asked. "In this situation, the more remote the better."

Harry moved towards the door. "I’ll start making the arrangements right now. How long before we can move her?"

Sirius looked from Gabrielle back to Harry. "Give me a week."

* * * * *

Ginny had been putting in significant overtime since the discovery of Gabrielle, and as the situation began to settle down she happily took advantage of the added time-off she’d accumulated. Ever since Harry had contacted her and she’d rushed out of Seamus’ place, they’d hardly had any time together. Ginny intended to change that situation starting tonight. She picked up her copy of Witch Weekly to pass the time waiting for Seamus to arrive back from work.

The cover article immediately captured her attention. Harry Potter isn’t the only famous graduate in his year, the article began. We’ve identified some of the brightest stars who are already making their mark in the magical world.

Gryffindor was well represented, with Hermione featured for her work in Runes, Ron for his legal work. And Seamus smiled handsomely from his photo taken at Gringotts. It was this last piece that troubled Ginny. At the end of the feature on Seamus, the article stated It is widely anticipated that Finnigan’s next move will take him to Hong Kong, where he will reportedly take over Gringotts’ Asian investments division.

Shocked, Ginny let the magazine slide to the floor. Hong Kong? He’d never even mentioned this possibility. Although Ginny knew better than to trust Witch Weekly for complete veracity, this wasn’t a sensational piece. There was no reason for them to invent details about Seamus’ professional life. So why hadn’t he told her?

When Seamus returned home, Ginny was sprawled out on his leather sofa, a crumpled copy of Witch Weekly on the floor.

"Miss me?" he asked, swooping down by her side and giving her a kiss.

"Oh, it’s you." Ginny turned her face from the wall to Seamus.

Drawing back, he said, "Who else were you expecting?"

Ginny shrugged and sat up. "Have a good day at work?" she asked. "Any exciting new developments I should know about?"

"Um, nothing much." Seamus had been in the process of pulling off his tie but Ginny’s tone made him look at her more closely. "What’s with you today?"

"Nothing," Ginny lied, examining her nails. "I just like to keep up with you. It’s been a while since we had much time together."

"You’re telling me." Smiling again, Seamus sat down next to her and put his arm round her waist, but to his surprise Ginny inched away at his touch. "Gin – what is going on?"

"When were you going to tell me?" she asked wearily, picking up her magazine and smoothing the bent pages.

"Tell you what?"

"About Hong Kong. Or did you think it better for me to read about it instead?"

"What are you nattering on about?"

Ginny didn’t say anything, just shoved the magazine into his hands and watched as he sat down and read. "Well?"

As soon as she saw his face she knew it was true. "Ginny, I was going to tell you, I was. I have no idea how they got this information. It hasn’t even been confirmed yet, that’s why I didn’t tell you."

"Waiting for that perfect moment? I suppose it is difficult to find just the right way of saying ‘I’m leaving you,’" said Ginny.

"What? Who said anything about leaving you? I could never leave you!" Seamus looked up at her, alarmed.

"Seamus. That job is in Hong Kong. If you go, you’re leaving me."

"Why don’t you come with me?’

Ginny snorted. "And do what? I just got the promotion of a lifetime. I’m not going to give that up."

"Couldn’t you get transferred overseas? I hear there’s lots of crime in Hong Kong, dark wizards running triads and such," he suggested hopefully.

"I just told you. This job is a once in a lifetime opportunity. No witch my age has ever held this kind of position. I’m not giving it up."

Seamus flushed angrily. "But you think I should give up this opportunity?"

"All I said was you should have told me so we could talk it over."

"We’re talking about it now, aren’t we? And you think I shouldn’t go."

Ginny felt her anger melting into sadness and a kind of panic. Everything seemed to be happening very quickly all of a sudden and the conversation was running away from her, somewhere she didn’t want it to go.

When she didn’t respond, Seamus spoke again. "It would only be for one year, two tops. It wouldn’t be forever."

"Long distance relationships don’t work."

"They can. Lots of people make them work these days. The floo network is pretty extensive now – I could talk with you every day."

"Fine. Then why not just commute every day, too?"

He shook his head. "It’s too far to travel by floo or to Apparate. You have to fly or use a Portkey. But we could visit each other during our holidays. They’d give me pretty generous leave time."

"Don’t make me have to choose like this, Seamus," Ginny said quietly.

"Choose what?"

"Between my job and you."

"You’re asking the same thing of me."

"Not really. You’re already established. This would just be another feather in your cap. If I give up my job I’d have to start over. I’d completely lose credibility in the profession – and they’d all say it was because I was too young, or because I’m female and couldn’t handle it. Nobody would say that about you."

"Yeah, because I’m not female."

"This isn’t a joke!" she replied sharply. "You know what I mean."

Seamus sighed very deeply. "Ginny, the only thing I know is I want you in my life. I care about you so much and the distance won’t make a difference to me. It doesn’t matter where in the world you are, I’ll always feel connected to you. I’ll still love you just the same."

"Sometimes love isn’t enough." Ginny pressed her mouth inward and bit down on her bottom lip, hoping the pain would distract her from crying.

"What’s that mean?"

"I don’t know." Ginny brushed at the corner of her eye and turned away. "I have to go," she whispered and ran out the door of Seamus’ flat.

* * * * *

"So that's it? You have a fight and it's over?" Hermione swirled her spoon in her teacup and peered across the kitchen table at Ginny, who had just poured out the details of her most recent encounter with Seamus.

"It wasn't just any fight. I don't even know what happened," Ginny confessed. "I was angry, but then everything turned somehow, like we'd suddenly agreed things were over without even discussing it. Everything just dissolved on me."

"Nothing's dissolved yet," pointed out Hermione. "You haven't even talked to him since."

Ginny sighed heavily. "There's nothing to talk about. One of us has to give up something, and at this point neither of us is budging."

"If you just talked to him -"

"It's not going to happen, Hermione." Ginny's words came out more brusquely than she'd intended and she sat back for a moment, frowning at her untouched cup of tea. "I'm not going to be around. Harry is moving Gabrielle and her family to an unplottable location and I'm meant to join them as soon as everything is in place."

"So go and see him right now," encouraged Hermione. "You have the time."

"It isn't that simple."

Hermione pushed back her chair and carried her cup and saucer to the sink. "Fine. Talk to him, don't talk to him - " she stopped running water and turned to face Ginny. "I just thought you valued this relationship enough to make more of an effort."

Ginny rolled her eyes and her mouth settled into a stubborn expression Hermione had seen many times in Ron. "The choice is his. I'm not the one contemplating a move to the other side of the world. If he's serious about the relationship, he'll stay here."

Hermione looked at Ginny for a long minute and then abruptly changed the subject. "So Harry tells me Dumbledore made that talisman for Gabrielle."

"That's what she says."

"Don't you believe her?" Hermione cocked her head in surprise.

Ginny corrected herself. "I didn't mean that. It's just…her memory isn't the most reliable. She does seem very insistent that Dumbledore gave it to her. But that doesn't mean he made it."

"Who else, then? That's a very complex, powerful protection spell. Only someone like Dumbledore would have had the power and the knowledge to create something like that."

"Well, it probably was him," Ginny shrugged, unable to enter into Hermione's interest in runes at the moment. "I'm just saying, nothing is certain right now. We’ll know more once she starts memory therapy."

Hermione nodded and looked thoughtful. "It's going to be very difficult for her, I'd imagine. And Ginny," Hermione again looked doubtful, then continued, "I've been thinking - once her memory is restored, she'll finally have complete access to her Seer abilities. But she hasn't had any magical education. That could be a very dangerous combination."

"I know." Ginny agreed. "It's a real problem. The memory blocks restrain her magic to a degree, but the blockage also protects her from her own, untrained power."

"But she's not some young kid who finds she can make odd things happen. For one, she's an adult and for another, she's going to be dealing with some intense emotional damage. Intense emotion doesn't mix well with undisciplined magic."

Ginny stood and brought her full cup of cold tea to the sink. Pouring it out she said, "You volunteering to be her private tutor?"

"No. I'm just worried that's all."

"Don't be. The Ministry has every expert involved. She's going to be okay, eventually."

"I meant about Harry."

"Harry?" Ginny started to laugh then saw Hermione was serious. "Why would you worry about him?"

Hermione flushed and moved away from Ginny. "Well, I'm worried about you, too. You'll both be in close proximity with her. An untrained Seer can be really dangerous – I’ve read about cases where people went mad because they couldn’t tell the difference between their visions and reality. Hurt themselves, attacked those around them."

Ginny regarded Hermione skeptically. "I've handled dangerous people before. What are you getting at?"

Hermione didn't answer immediately and while Ginny's question still hung heavy between them, Ron poked his head in through the kitchen door.

"Okay to come in?" he asked.

"Of course," answered Hermione, moving towards him.

"You okay, Ginny?" he asked, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder and feeling privately thankful Hermione had taken charge of the earlier tearful scene.

"Fine." But Ginny wasn't looking at him, she was looking at Hermione, who refused to meet her eyes. "Thanks for the tea and sympathy," she said and at last Hermione turned, giving Ginny an automatic smile.

"Anytime."

Ron saw Ginny out, then pulled Hermione to the living room sofa. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know. She and Seamus can both be very stubborn."

Ron smiled. "Wouldn't know anything about that."

"You wish." Hermione punched him lightly on the shoulder. "So I've been thinking about the Hogwarts job."

"Oh?"

"And I don't think I want to go."

"Hermione, you don't have to decide right now. I don't want to hold you back. Unlike some people, I can be very flexible." He smiled at her encouragingly.

"I appreciate that Ron." She returned his smile. "But I'm not convinced it's the best place for me right now. For one thing, I'm not sure I want to abandon all my own research for the sake of teaching. Then there's the reality of Hogsmeade life - after living in London it may be dull. I mean, there's no theatre scene -"

"And that's a bad thing?" joked Ron.

Hermione continued as if he hadn't spoken. "You'd be Apparating back and forth all the time, and we'd be away from all our friends."

"They could come and visit. One of the advantages of being magical - you can Apparate most places."

"It wouldn't be the same. Ginny couldn't come over like she did today."

"Sure she could."

"Well, maybe, but it wouldn't be the same." Hermione refused to be sidetracked. "And how would you feel about being so far from Harry? He's your best friend. Surely you'd miss him."

Ron appeared baffled. "I guess. But like I said, he could Apparate up whenever he liked. And he's pretty quick on a broomstick, too."

"I just don’t think you realise how much you'd miss not having him nearby. You have drinks together all the time, we do things together so often - it would be a big change."

Ron fell silent. "A big change for whom, exactly?" he finally asked, his expression wary. "I already told you it doesn't bother me."

Hermione coloured and twitched her shoulder. "I'd miss him, too, of course. And Ginny."

Ron was silent again for a long moment. Speaking slowly, he asked, "Hermione, are you telling me you're turning down this job because you don't want to leave Harry?"

"No, don't be ridiculous. That's not what I'm saying at all."

"Uh-huh." Ron studied her in the half-light of the darkening room. "Lumos," he commanded, absent-mindedly flicking his wand at the lamp nearby.

Hermione remained partly turned away and after a few moments of silence, Ron stood up. "I'm never going to win with you, am I?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

He shook his head. "I think you know. Is this why you never want to get married? Worried you're still in love with him?"

"Ron!" Hermione now turned her full attention to him. "How can you say that? I just gave you a list of reasons why I don't want to move, the foremost being I like my job here. Why do you assume it all turns on Harry? Isn't it about time you got over this jealousy thing you have?"

"I'll stop being jealous when you stop giving me a reason for feeling that way."

"I thought we settled this years ago. Harry is one of my oldest friends. He understands me better than almost anyone. Except for you." Hermione glared at Ron and added, "Of course right now I have to wonder."

But her sarcasm was ill-timed. Ron retorted, "Maybe you should go and talk to Harry, then. Since he understands you so well, I'm sure he'll know the right thing to say."

Before Hermione could respond, a figure appeared in their fireplace. She got up and moved closer, only to see Harry’s face in their fire. "Hi, Hermione. Is Ron home?"

Without returning Harry’s greeting, Hermione turned and walked back to the sofa. "It’s for you. Harry."

"Speak of the devil," muttered Ron, sliding off the sofa and crossing the room to take a seat before the fire.

Harry looked at Ron’s stormy face. "Is this a bad time?"

"No, it’s fine. Just, um, Ginny’s been having some problems," Ron equivocated, glancing over his shoulder at Hermione. "What’s going on?"

"I’ve just been reading the statements my office has obtained thus far from Gabrielle. There’s some very interesting information here regarding Lucius Malfoy. Just what kind of deal did the Ministry strike with him?"

"What do you mean?" Ron frowned into the flames, quickly shoving his argument with Hermione to the back of his mind.

"What sort of immunity does he have, Ron? Because I don’t think he’s been quite the model citizen lately. Can you come down here? If it’s convenient, that is. I think you'll want to read this yourself."

Ron jumped up. "I’m on my way."

As he prepared to Apparate, Hermione approached him, arms crossed. "Where are you going?"

"Work – something important’s come up," he replied shortly, pulling on a cloak.

"Ron, we haven’t exactly finished our conversation," began Hermione, but soon realised she was talking to the air. Ron had left without another word.