By the Pricking of my Thumbs

"By the Pricking of my Thumbs"

By Penpusher

Chapter Five: Beginning the Quest

Ron staggered slightly and blinked several times as the effects of the Port caught up with him. He felt someone grab his arm hard and looked up to see Harry shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts.

"Oh, that was not good," said Ron feelingly. "I wouldn't like to do that with a hangover."

Harry took out a handkerchief to wipe his forehead.

"It's given me a hangover," he growled, "and I didn't even do anything to justify it last night. Come to think of it, I didn't do anything last night!"

Ron gave Harry a snide, sidelong look.

"Still taking it badly, was she?" he asked sympathetically. Harry was spared the necessity of answering as somewhere nearby a throat was cleared ostentatiously. They looked around to see an efficient-looking witch smiling brightly over the top of a clipboard. She strode briskly towards them, wielding a scarlet quill.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Wesley? You have arrived safely?"

"Weasley," corrected Ron automatically. "And yes, we've arrived. 'Safely' might be a bit of an exaggeration though."

"Yes," agreed Harry, massaging the kinks out of his neck. "I must admit, I've had better."

The little witch ignored their comments, checking a list on her clipboard.

" ... Wax, Waycombe, Welwyn, Wesley - no, I'm afraid you're definitely down as Wesley," she informed him with an even brighter smile. Ron sighed.

"Why does it always happen to me?" he groaned, quietly.

"Your car is waiting for you outside," the little witch announced, with magnificent disregard. Ron stared.

"Our what?"

"Your car, Mr. Wesley. It has been parked in a No Waiting Zone for 10 minutes."

Ron looked at Harry.

"Did you order a car?"

Harry shook his head, mystified. Ron shrugged.

"Nor did I. Let's go take a look."

The two wizards shouldered their rucksacks and took off for the door, frantically pursued by the little witch.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Wesley! Please, you must sign here before you go. To verify your safe arrival."

Ron waved an impatient wand at the clipboard.

"Have a nice day!" he smiled as he and Harry disappeared out into the street.

"I doubt she will though," he confided to Harry in a low voice. "I signed us as Tom Riddle and Severus Snape."

Harry looked about him then made confidently for an insignificant-looking off-white saloon, parked almost insolently by a 'No Waiting' sign. He flung open the passenger door and climbed in, gesturing for Ron to get in the back.

"Hello, Neville," Harry said with a cheerful grin. He pulled hard on the brim of the driver's baseball cap. "It's great to see you again!"

Neville spluttered in a muffled sort of way as he yanked the cap back on to his head, then he beamed all over his plump, honest face.

"Can't you two ever keep out of trouble?" he demanded, mock-fiercely. "Ye Gods, Ron, marriage certainly agrees with you. You're looking healthier than ever! And how's the gorgeous Ginny? Set a date yet?"

Harry's smile slipped slightly as he shook his head.

"Still trying to persuade her, Neville," he replied lightly.

Ron gave him a sharp glance but forebore to comment. Neville let in the clutch and moved off.

"You're staying with me tonight," Neville grinned as he drove. "Gringotts/Ministry co-operation means I get to ferry you around while you're in LA. But you'll only be here as long as it takes for briefing. Probably around twenty-four to thirty-six hours."

"Is Sirius here?" Harry asked quickly. Neville nodded.

"My instructions are to take you to him now," he told them. "Sirius will be briefing you today, but you won't see much more of him until you get to Mexico."

Harry sat back in the air-conditioned car, watching the familiar sights flash past. It seemed a very short time before they drew into a long driveway facing a pleasant, modern house. As they climbed out of the car, faint sounds of laughter and splashing drifted from behind the building. Harry looked enquiringly at Neville who grinned happily.

"This is where I'm living at present, yes," he told them, "but I'm certainly not on my own. Come and see!"

They trooped through a small iron gate into a large garden that, despite its size, was dominated by a vast swimming pool. At the shallow end, two bikini-clad girls ganged up on a hapless young man, splashing and ducking him despite his increasingly desperate cries for help. Finally, the youth sighted Neville and vaulted quickly out of the water.

"Thank Merlin!" he exclaimed. "The cavalry has arrived. Come on, Nev! Get suits for your friends. I'm out for revenge!"

Neville laughed and waved him away.

"Deal with the girls yourself, Harvey," he replied. "You're more than capable. What have you done with Sirius?"

Harvey shook his head with a mock-mournful expression.

"He's no fun at all," he replied. "He's in the study Firetalking. Val tried to get him in the water, but he said he had to work. I'll go tell him you're here."

The young man loped easily into the house.

"Wise man," was Neville's succinct reply, but whether he was referring to Sirius or Harvey remained unclear.

Squeezing water out of their hair, the two girls approached with friendly smiles. They were both remarkably pretty.

"Not bad, Neville," Ron remarked quietly out of the corner of his mouth, eyes firmly fixed on them. "You seem to have fallen on your feet."

Neville grinned broadly.

"Valerie, Sabrina," he began, "meet Harry and Ron, a couple of English wizards over here on business."

The girls shook hands with the newcomers.

"Along with Harvey, we're all housemates," Neville continued complacently.

"Hi!" said the blonde twisting her hair into a very wet ponytail. "Would you two like some Sangria? We've just made a fresh jug."

Ron smiled broadly.

"I couldn't think of anything I'd like better," he replied gallantly, throwing down his rucksack and making for a sun lounger. Harry, feeling rather overdressed in chinos and a baggy shirt, followed rather more slowly, gazing around at the enormous garden and wondering how on earth Neville had managed to land so firmly on his feet.

"The house belongs to me," said a voice to his right, "and Sirius will be with us just as soon as he's finished Firetalking."

Harry turned sharply to see Harvey holding out a long glass of Sangria.

"Don't worry, it's very weak," he said, grinning at Harry's perplexed expression. Harvey shook his head.

"In case you're wondering, no I don't have a mind-reading talent," he said. "In fact, I'm not even a wizard. Your face just gave it away!"

Harry's eyebrows rose even further. He held out a hand.

"Harry Potter," he said, by way of introduction.

"Harvey Kinkle," the other man returned, giving a firm handshake. He took a long pull from his glass.

"Valerie and I are Muggles," Harvey began conversationally. "Sabrina's the witch. Neville and I met up when I needed a financial adviser. I'd just come into an inheritance and, apart from buying and equipping this house, I didn't have an inkling what to do with it. Sabrina's Aunt Hilda recommended Gringotts - I'd never even heard of them before - and I became one of Neville's clients. When he and Sabrina met, they hit it off immediately, and after that it just seemed logical for him to move in with us."

Harry nodded and looked around the garden admiringly.

"I'd say Neville's been incredibly lucky to have found a home like this," he replied. "It reminds me a little of my house in St. John's Wood, although they have nothing in common architecturally."

Harvey shrugged.

"The house is under a Benevolence Charm," he said, and shrugged, "so Sabrina tells me. I wouldn't have a clue. Perhaps yours is too."

Harry smiled wryly.

"It's certainly under a number of charms, yes," he replied, but was prevented from further explanation by the sudden appearance of a grinning Sirius.

"Harry!"

The big, dark-haired man strode across the patio to envelope his godson in a bear-hug.

"At last! I seem to have been waiting for you for weeks!"

Harry returned the embrace, slapping his godfather on the shoulder. Sirius greeted Ron in much the same way, enquiring kindly about Hermione and the Weasley parents. He accepted a glass of Sangria from Harvey, but seemed unwilling to settle for a congenial chat. As soon as he could, he cornered Harry.

"I've just been Firetalking with Tiberius Johnson, one of Fudge's assistants," Sirius said in low tones. "I'm more than a little concerned at the amount of attention your trip is attracting. It's not usual for something like this to cause Ministry Officials to jump on my coattails quite so frequently."

He paused to sink half of his drink in a single swallow.

"I'm under instructions to get you and Ron into Yucatan as soon as possible, preferably within the next two days," Sirius continued. "I've told them in no uncertain terms that I'll get the show on the road when and if I consider it to be ready, but they're not letting up. Harry, I'm going to have to begin the briefing this evening; now, in fact. At least then Ron can be fully apprised on what we're after and why, before we leave for Uinal."

~oo0oo~

"Ron, has Harry told you about the artefact you'll be searching for?"

Regretfully, Harry and Ron retired into Neville's study at Sirius' request. Ron shrugged at the question.

"Other than its name, Leandra's Ewer, and the fact that it's a scrying device, well no," he replied, scratching his head. "Why is there so much high level interest in it, Sirius?"

The older man pursed his lips.

"To be honest, I'm really not sure," Sirius replied. "If it's all it's cracked up to be, it's certainly a useful tool, but it's not going to single-handedly rid the world of Dark Magic, or anything of that nature."

Harry stirred.

"Why don't I give Ron a very brief description of the thing?" Harry suggested. "After all, I've been chasing it for years and I've read all the reports from Fred and George, plus anything even vaguely connected with its whereabouts over the last year or so."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully and gestured for him to go ahead. Harry paused, gathering his thoughts, then turned to Ron.

"Leandra's Ewer is described as a small, shallow basin intricately carved from a single piece of marble which, when filled with water, can be used by a Seer to accurately predict the future. Under certain circumstances," he began. Ron gave a low whistle.

"Well, it's not surprising there's a lot of fuss about it," he replied. "An accurate divining tool? I don't think there's ever been such a thing before, has there?"

Harry held up a hand, a faint smile on his face.

"I only said it was accurate under certain circumstances," he explained. "In order to obtain a precise forecast, the motives of the would-be Seer have to be totally without guile or self-interest." He grinned at Ron's disappointed expression. "Leandra herself was one of the ancient Mayan wizards who lived in Mexico before the invasion of the Toltecs. She had the assistance of a number of others, but in the end she used her own power to endow the artefact. The effort of creating it drained the magic out of her and she died not long afterwards, but the Ewer remained in her family's possession. According to our information it still survives."

"But how?" asked Ron, "I mean, this isn't just hundreds, but thousands of years ago. Very little has ever come to us from so far back in history." Harry was nodding.

"I know, Ron, and that's partly what makes this so exciting," he replied, his eyes alight with interest. "Now, it's well documented that before Leandra died, she used the Ewer to scry the future of the Mayan wizards. Consequently, they had warning of the coming Toltec invasion (around 800AD) and could make provision for the crisis. They had some success in warning the Mayan Muggles (evidently, relations between Muggles and wizards were much more tolerant than today) and some groups chose to become nomadic, moving south into Quintana Roo and on through Central America. The small tribe of wizards and Muggles who had charge of Leandra's Ewer made other arrangements to avoid the invaders: they built an entire city in the virgin rainforest."

Harry's face was rapt. He continued to speak, the words tumbling over themselves in his excitement.

"They began construction in a matter of months, Muggles and wizards working together," he said, almost reverently. "They designed the city to be self-supporting so that they would need no connection with the outside world. They wanted no contamination from the invading Toltecs, you see."

Ron shivered slightly.

"Sounds a bit like You-Know-Who's creed regarding purebloods," he commented, but Harry wasn't listening.

"Think of it, Ron!" he exclaimed, his eyes blazing. "A city, built by Mayan wizards in the rainforest. Just imagine the secrets it might hold!" Ron was puzzled.

"How can we be so sure that Leandra's Ewer was ever taken there?" he asked. Sirius leaned forward in his chair.

"The information that our operatives, including Fred and George, have managed to amass over the years points conclusively to a place known as Chinga'an as the final destination of the artefact," Sirius began. "It translates literally as "broken" in the ancient Mayan language. All our information kept bringing up this name over and over again. No one knew what it meant, until the final evidence from George connected it indisputably with a Mexican legend of a hidden magical city." Ron still looked puzzled.

"So we're going in search of a legend? Sirius, I thought you said we had a definite destination?" he protested. "And if it's so ruined as to merit the name "Broken", what are we likely to find there? It sounds like a wild goose chase to me."

Sirius exchanged a glance with Harry.

"We had a windfall." Harry took a deep breath before continuing. "An enormous piece of luck, Ron. Not only did George's evidence identifying the place turn up at just the right moment, we also happened upon some vital information concerning its position from the locals. A group of Uinal natives came upon the hidden city quite by chance whilst on a completely unrelated venture in the forest. One of them happened to be not only a skilled woodsman but also magically oriented: we'll meet up in the morning and you'll know the rest then."

Ron frowned and chewed his lip thoughtfully.

"I need some time to mull over all this," he replied slowly.

"Okay." Sirius rose to his feet. "I suggest we break here and get some sleep. Neville's arranged a room for you and there's food in the kitchen. We'll be off early tomorrow to meet a couple of people, check on equipment, etc. We'll Port to Merida for that, and then on to Uinal the following day."

Ron remained seated, his expression pensive.

"Harry, Chinga'an is the ancient name for the city, right?" he asked. Harry nodded, "So why call a new city something that means "broken"? It doesn't make sense."

"Broken, not as in ruined, Ron, as in unfinished." Harry took up the tale. "All the Maya abandoned their cities around 850 AD, Muggles and wizards alike, and Chinga'an was simply deserted half-built. The sudden exodus has never been fully explained. There is no evidence for disease or genocide. The Toltecs were an invading force, yes, but in many cases they didn't even need to fight at all. They simply walked in and took over completely deserted cities. It must have been weird."

"Weird," Ron echoed, shaking his head doubtfully. "Weird, and more than a bit iffy, to my mind."

~oOo~

Harry sipped ice-cold cola as he sat at a street café watching locals and tourists stroll by. Merida was something of a conundrum, he reflected. It was a Spanish-style city built on Mayan ruins, and unlike tourist-dominated Cancun, had retained much of its Euro-Mex flavour. However, it was still a modern city with excellent communications, and was well and efficiently governed, despite having more than one million inhabitants.

Harry smiled as Sirius paced the pavement, looking at his watch for the thirtieth time, and exchanged a glance with Ron. His red-haired companion gestured towards the street with his glass.

"Nice place," he commented. "They call it 'The White City', you know. Because it's so incredibly clean."

Harry nodded and was about to reply when Sirius gave a quiet exclamation.

"About time!" he muttered, rising from the table to abruptly disappear into the busy street. Moments later, they saw his black head weaving and bobbing through the crowd until he stopped by a tall, equally dark-haired figure. A moment or two later, Sirius turned back towards Harry and Ron accompanied by a tall, black-haired figure whose extreme femininity even her loose-fitting fatigues could not hide. The two men automatically rose from the table.

"Tell me this isn't our guide, Harry," murmured Ron, his eyes popping out of his head. "Tell me I'm hallucinating."

Harry had no time to answer, for Sirius and the unknown woman had already joined them at the table. Sirius gestured to her.

"Harry, Ron, this is Katia Valentin, the best professional guide in the business," he told them in a flat tone. "Katia - Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."

They shook hands briefly. Ron's eyes widened slightly at the strength in those slender-looking fingers.

"Katia is a native of Uinal," Sirius explained. "She is very well known as an explorer and hunter, with the added bonus that she knows the land around the town like the back of her hand."

"I grew up in the forest, my family has always lived in Uinal." The dark woman spoke for the first time. "I was the first to leave for the city, but I return regularly. Once the forest is in your blood, it will never let you go."

Her voice was low and husky, her accent heavy, but her English was smooth and idiomatic. Harry was later to learn that she spoke a number of languages fluently, including several ethnic dialects, but at that precise moment he could focus on nothing but the exotic music of her voice, and the dark vibrancy of her eyes.

"Harry? Harry!" he became aware of Ron nudging him sharply and looked up to see that Sirius had risen from the table.

"What?" Harry shook his head in slight confusion.

"We're going to Katia's office," Ron explained. "Weren't you listening? She needs to check over the list of our gear and make a few additions. Let's hope it's all been delivered in one piece."

"Let's hope it's still there!" added Harry fervently, pushing his chair under the table and following the others.

As they walked the attractive streets of Merida, Harry found himself staring uncontrollably at the guide, Katia. Striking she certainly was, with high cheekbones, smooth brown skin and a full, mobile mouth, but there was something else about her. Something that Harry, had he been in any state of mind to be analytical, might possibly have recognised as familiar, a long time ago, at a certain notorious Quidditch match ...

They reached Katia's office in a very short time. It was at the top of several flights of very stuffy stairs; a tiny, single room full to the brim with equipment, maps, a Spartan desk and chair, and a huge filing cabinet. A closed door off to the right led, Harry assumed, to some kind of living area. A few dusty photographs adorned the walls. Glancing at them, Harry was astonished to see a very young Minister Fudge, accompanied by a dour-looking Tantalus Brown, beaming into the camera, standing next to an unsmiling Katia. Fudge's figure waved furiously at them out of the photograph and smiled even more widely; Brown's stared stolidly into the distance, ignoring them completely.

A number of metallic sounds alerted him that business had begun. Katia closed the top draw of her filing cabinet, deposited a number of large objects on the desktop and sat down, motioning the others to pull up chairs. There were only two; Harry elected to perch on the edge of the desk.

"Okay," she began. "These are all types of gun you could find in the hands of Mexican outlaws, some of whom we may very well run into in the forest. Do either of you know how to use firearms?" Harry and Ron exchanged glances then Ron nodded slowly.

"I took a course about a year ago," he admitted, reluctantly. "I didn't enjoy it much."

"You're not supposed to," she replied flatly, and pointed to the shotgun. "Do you know how to used that?" Ron nodded again. "Show me."

He gasped.

"What, in this office?"

"I don't mean you to fire it, just show me you know how to use it."

Dubiously, Ron picked up the weapon, keeping the muzzle pointed firmly at the floor. He broke open the action and gasped on finding a cartridge still in the chamber. Carefully he removed it, checked the bore to make sure there were no more surprises, and then closed the weapon, making sure it was on safety. The eyes he turned to Katia were outraged.

"Was that some sort of test, or are you just a careless owner?" he demanded. "If I'd been a rank tyro like Harry, I could have had us all in hospital!"

The dark woman smiled ironically at his discomfiture, picked up the cartridge and threw it into the filing cabinet.

"A blank," she explained. "Not even primed. You could shoot on that all day without disturbing anyone but yourself."

Ron flushed with embarrassment. She took the shotgun from his unresponsive hands, her bland face completely undaunted by the anger and mortification in his face.

"Okay, Sirius," she continued, with a small half smile. "What about this one?" She gestured to another shotgun. Sirius examined it but made no move to grasp or touch it in any way. He shook his head.

"You know very well, Katia, that I have a passing acquaintance with weapons of all kinds," he began. "And that one I will not touch under any circumstances. I advise anyone else to do likewise."

For a moment their eyes locked, then she shrugged.

"That is your loss," she replied, "but at least, all of you, make sure you recognise it should you see it again. This is a sawn-off shotgun. Similar to the first one but, as you can see, the barrel is a lot shorter. All you need to know about this weapon is, if you see it pointing at you, start saying your prayers." She picked up the gun.

"That weapon is illegal."

Harry spoke for the first time. Katia continued as though she hadn't heard.

"Where did you get it?"

Harry's voice became more insistent. Slowly, the woman looked up.

"These weapons are not common," she began quietly, "but the scum who prey on travellers in the forest have a number of them. A year ago, this one was pointed at me from behind a tree."

"What happened?"

She shrugged.

"I was quicker."

Calmly, she put the two shotguns back into the draw of her filing cabinet and locked it.

As Katia started on handguns, Ron began to feel as though he was in some strange alternate universe where cowboys and Indians were still shooting at each other, and law and justice were matters of opinion.

"What is the purpose behind this exercise?" he finally found himself asking. Katia stopped speaking and looked at him questioningly.

"I mean, we're wizards, right? And I'm assuming that you're a witch, although I confess I don't remember coming across you at school."

Katia's eyes glittered, but she let him finish.

"Why is any of us going into the forest armed with Muggle guns when all we really need is a wand?"

The woman laid down the handgun she had been demonstrating and leaned over the desk towards Ron.

"We are studying weapons for two reasons," she began softly. "Firstly, it is important to know what you will be facing if we run into any trouble. I can assure you that however fast your knockout curse is, it won't save you from a point blank shotgun blast.

"Secondly," Her eyes glittered again. "If we are obliged to leave any casualties or fatalities behind us, it is best if they are clearly attributable to Muggle origins. I know the law enforcement around these parts. A dead man with signs of cursing, or even without a mark on him, would have them jumping up and down with excitement. A man with a bullet in his back would be lucky to get buried."

~oo0oo~

The briefing completed, the strangely assorted quartet spent what was left of the evening together discussing their forthcoming trip over a surprisingly excellent meal in their hotel restaurant, followed by post-dinner drinks in the crowded and rather gloomy bar.

The air, thick with cigarette smoke and the day's heat, was oddly soporific. Harry found his eyes closing of their own accord. Ron kept a weather eye on the enigmatic Katia; she appeared to be well known wherever she went. This evening, she cruised her way around the various tables and knots of conversation, tuning in on the latest gossip, renewing old acquaintances. Ron did not know what to make of her. He could not trust her, of that he was certain, but she seemed to know the business.

Earlier on, she had examined their equipment list, nodding at the additions from Tim Cyu, but had laughed at their clothing.

"These will be worse than useless," she told them, crumpling the list and dropping it carelessly into a waste-paper bin. "I will have more suitable items delivered to your hotel."

"Why is this stuff no good?" bristled Ron. "Bogsworthy & Trunks told me it was state of the art."

Katia made a derisive noise.

"Wizards should know better," she told him. "English gentlemen's outfitters? Pah! A relic from the days of the Muggle Empire. The boots are well enough, as far as they go, but you need a good Anti-Blister potion in the leather. It's too late to treat them; we'll have to get new ones. Your fatigues we can do something about, if you prefer. I will put a Thermostat charm on all of them; that should see to it. You only have the standard Insect-Repelling Potions; I will provide you with the local supplements."

Various other items followed, then she turned to them with the first real smile they had seen.

"I am relieved to see that you have left your broomsticks at home," she told them. "You English wizards still use such things - it's hard to believe! Still, your motorised raft is more efficient than anything I could suggest, so you can't be all bad."

Ron clenched his fists at the memory. Why did the woman's obviously superior knowledge rankle so much, when it was just what they were paying her for?

Ron looked over to the bar. Katia was standing in the nearby doorway scanning the large room, obviously looking for someone. As he watched, Sirius approached her from behind and spoke briefly, close to her ear. She turned sharply to give him a brusque response but, despite having good lip-reading skills and a passable knowledge of Spanish, Ron could not catch the drift. He suspected she was using a local dialect unknown to him. Sirius frowned heavily and spoke again, this time more insistently. Katia's face twisted in anger. She spat something back at Sirius, turning abruptly to walk away, but he caught her upper arm and pulled her to within a few inches of his face. Despite the difference in height and his menacing attitude, the girl stared him down with an expression of the utmost contempt. Finally, Sirius relaxed his hold with reluctance. Katia slipped quickly away from him, out of the door and into the night, like a cat.

What just happened there? wondered Ron, drumming his fingers on the table. He glanced at his watch, yawned then shook Harry by the shoulder.

"Come on, mate, time for some proper shut-eye."

Harry prised open his eyes, gazed at Ron uncomprehendingly, and then abruptly came to. He stretched his shoulders, wincing as sore muscles protested the movement. Blearily, he followed Ron upstairs to their room, more than ready for an uninterrupted night's sleep.

~oo0oo~

Harry was trying to Firetalk with Ginny, but her image kept flickering and losing definition.

"Come through," Harry was saying to her. "Take my hand and come to me. No one will miss you for a few hours."

The Ginny in the fire smiled and extended her hand, but Harry did not take it. He found himself kneeling on the hearthrug looking up towards a door that slowly opened. Katia slid into the room, dressed in a black cloud that hid her body and made her glide a little way above the floor.

"Come with me, Harry," she said, holding out a hand. "Sirius is waiting. We need to go." Harry looked back into the fireplace, but Ginny had disappeared. He put his hand into the flames...

...and sat up abruptly in bed, eyes wide open. There was someone in the room!

Quickly, he looked over to Ron's bed and was relieved to see his red-haired friend still slumbering peacefully. Harry swung his legs over the side and padded softly to the door; locked. He tried the bathroom - nothing, window secured. Thoughtfully, he investigated the balcony door and discovered that although it was secure, the catch was so flimsy as to be almost useless. With the uncomfortable feeling of locking the stable door after the horse had packed, turned off the water and had the removal men in, he produced his wand and tapped the door whispering Cancelliatus, instantly creating a barrier to entry. Harry got back into bed and tried to compose himself to sleep again, but it was a long time before his eyes closed.

"Sleep well?" was Ron's first good-natured greeting of the day. Harry furrowed his brow.

"Well, no, not exactly."

His friend smiled sympathetically.

"No, I never do on the first night away from home," Ron agreed. "Night before last was absolutely miserable, but last night was okay."

Harry paused then took the plunge.

"You weren't - disturbed by anything last night then?"

Ron stared in surprise.

"No, I told you," he replied. "I slept like a log. Why? Were you?"

"I'm not sure."

Harry rubbed at the stubble on his chin, debating whether or not to shave. He told Ron as much as he could remember about the dream and his subsequent suspicion that an intruder had entered their room. Ron listened with patience, but smiled knowingly at the end of Harry's recital.

"Auror-training gives one incredibly taut reflexes," he explained. "If anyone were actually, physically in the room, I would have known about it, don't you worry."

Unless you were ensorcelled or drugged mused Harry, yawning reflectively. But how to tell? Some of the more subtle enchantments were specifically designed to escape detection. Still, there was little they could do about it now.

Breakfast over, dressed in the Coolcharm-impregnated fatigues, they waited outside the hotel for Sirius who arrived a few minutes later on foot.

"We'll go straight to Katia's office," he told them. "I've got a Portkey for us, but we should really all travel together."

However, when they arrived, they were greeted by a fiery message in the air over her desk to the effect that she had already Apparated ahead of them to Uinal to assemble the gear, and would meet them at HQ. Sirius shrugged, smiling grimly.

"She's a law unto herself, I'm afraid."

He gave an awkward little cough and a strange expression crept over his face.

"Katia and I go back a long way," he told them awkwardly. "On a professional level, she's just as good as she says she is, probably better. She's totally reliable; dependable in a crisis; well able to defend herself and others; intelligent, clever and streetsmart. However, I'd caution either of you from getting, well, close to her in any way."

Ron grinned wickedly.

"Oh? Done some time with her, have you Sirius?" he enquired with raised eyebrows. "Oddly enough, I wouldn't have put you as her type."

Sirius didn't smile.

"It's not funny, Ron," he replied. "You don't know what she's capable of. I do. I'd advise both of you to keep her at a distance, if you know what's good for you."

Ron patted Sirius's shoulder.

"Keep your hair on, nothing like that's going to happen," he said, only semi-seriously. "Besides, we're both married - well, I am and Harry's as good as. We're not in the market for crumpet, just for getting the job done."

Sirius took a long, slow look at both of them, still not entirely satisfied. Then he sighed.

"Okay, don't say I didn't warn you," he said, finally. "Just, please, don't underestimate her, that's all."

And with that, Sirius produced what looked like a mobile phone from his pocket: the Portkey. He gestured them into a quiet street.

"Let's get out of sight before we use this thing," he said quietly. "These people are a superstitious lot. I don't want to attract any more attention than we already have."

He took out his wand and gestured to them to take hold of his arms.

"Brace yourselves."

His words echoed confusingly in their heads, and the world abruptly changed...

Katia leaned nonchalantly against the side of a large jeep, chewing a piece of grass. On seeing them materialise after the jump, she threw the stem aside and tossed two bundles at Ron and Harry.

"Boots," she said tersely. "You can leave your old ones in the house."

They glanced around at what looked like a petrol station, but on closer inspection was merely a private dwelling.

"At least they fit," commented Ron, stamping his feet in approval. "Now all we need is for the Anti-Blister charms to actually work!"

Sirius came over to give them their final instructions.

"This is HQ for the duration of this mission," he said, gesturing to the house. "I'm going to be here round the clock for contact by whatever means you care to use, magic or Muggle. I'll have backup of sorts from the local network, and I'll be in constant communication with the Ministry in London. Oh, and just one more thing."

Sirius fished in his pocket and pulled out a small black object with a clip on the back. This he handed to Ron.

"It's a Homing Beacon," he explained. "Pin it anywhere on your gear, activate it with the charm Consequor and you can be traced anywhere within a fifty mile radius. There's one for Harry too."

The two wizards pinned the items on to their clothing, shook hands with Sirius and, throwing their rucksacks into the back of the jeep, swung aboard. Katia slid into the driving seat and put the keys in the ignition. Ron frowned.

"You're not driving this thing, are you?" he said and immediately wished he'd kept quiet. She turned scornful eyes on him and laughed derisively.

"Have you ever driven in the forest?" she demanded, without waiting for an answer. "I will get us many miles further in the right direction than either of you ever could. You will thank me for that when you realise how hard it can be to walk in the forest."

The jeep took off along the dusty road leaving Sirius standing alone, shading his eyes from the sun.