Love In Translation

When I landed in Paris, the sky was already dark, and I silently looked for a taxi to drive me to the city centre. I knew my way around Paris already, because I had been there several years ago with my parents.

I found a little hotel not far away from Mont Martyr, and I took a room for the night; it was very small, but comfortable, and for me and Crookshanks it was all right.

I came closer to the mirror and stared at my reflection with a deep sigh: I looked like the same girl, even if there was more worry in my eyes. I slowly passed an hand throught my bushy hair and thought that maybe, if I had cared more about my outer look, instead of just concentrating on schoolwork, Harry could have looked at me differently; maybe I could have felt more confident myself, and it would have been easier to open my heart to him.

I threw myself heavily on the bed, and a huge amount of thoughts started flow into my mind.

Unfortunately, I didn't know what Harry's mission was, since it was TOP SECRET, but for sure it was something about Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

At the time, neither Harry nor the other Aurors had managed to defeat the Dark Lord, even though in the past years they had done a great job to neutralize his evil plans and limit his attacks. The Ministry of Magic could now count on a very efficient international system to come to know exactly what the Dark Lord was planning, and also, there were many very well trained spies, who cooperated with the Aurors.

But the most important thing was, that the newly elected Minister of Magic had approved a very useful law, which enabled all the Aurors in the world to check the same secret information with a capillary international magic communication network.

It wasn't quite clear to me how this system worked, but I knew that it had always been really efficient. Thanks to all the united efforts, from the Magical World and from the Muggle World, everybody had managed to go on in relative peace, without too many strange disappearences or accidents due to Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Despite all this, the war wasn't over yet, and it was clear that the Dark Side would always be ready to strike in shadow, in its deceitful way, without drawing too much attention. A few little attacks here and there, a couple disappearences, always following a dark and straight logic, with the ablility to spread terror all around.

That night I couldn't fall asleep, and I didn't want to sleep either.

* * *

The following morning I woke up very early and went down the street to reach the meeting place, leaving Crookshanks alone in the hotel room. It was only 9 o'clock, but I hurried anyway, without looking at the little shops along the street, which were opening to their clients.

It took me a good half an hour to get there, and when I arrived at the bottom of the small hill, where the majestic Cathedral of Mont Martyr stood, I remained fascinated by it. It was a huge white marble tripudium, which was shining in the morning sun.

Slowly I climbed the many steps in front of me, and when I reached the top of the hill, I turned to see the view. The sight was so breath-taking, I had never seen something so wonderful. At my feet laid the whole city of Paris, with its buildings, its Boulevards, the Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower, and the Seine River.

I took a seat on a wooden bench and started to wait in trepidation, looking around to see if someone was coming.

I was feeling my heart beating faster, because shortly I would have met the love of my life, and I could have again given all my help and support. Then, another thought entered my mind with strength. What if the Death Eaters had already intercepted Harry's message? In this case, I should have been really careful.

Instinctively, I brought a hand to my wand, closed inside of my handbag, as usual: in case of attack, I would have been ready to fight.

Unfortunately the time was passing by, and nothing was happening: around me, many tourists were climbing and descending the stairs, or entering and exiting the Cathedral, but no sign of Harry or of Death Eaters.

Shortly 12 o'clock came and passed, and I was starting to worry. Maybe I had mistaken the meeting place! Maybe Harry was waiting for me far away from where I was... maybe he was wounded, or half dead, while I was sitting there like an idiot!

Suddenly panic grew into my heart: I got up and ran around the Cathedral, desperately searching for Harry, or at least, for a sign to make me understand.... but nothing... just tourists everywhere.

In total panic, I decided to have a look inside. When I entered the two huge wooden doors, I remained astonished by the beauty of the holy place. I started to look everywhere, and finally I reached the main altar, but Harry definitely wasn't there.

In that moment, desperation replaced panic. "Harry where are you?" I was asking myself over and over again.

I stopped in front of the main altar, and I sat heavily on one of the first benches: Rising my hand to my hair, I wanted to cry... then suddenly I heard a strange noise coming out from the sacristy: it was a kind of moan. I slowly got up and even more slowly I reached the sacristy; I opened the door and I started to search for the source of that strange moan.

The place was deserted, and the closer I came, the louder the moaning became. Then the moan became a sob. After a few seconds, I finally realized that the person, who was crying, was hiding behind a heavy golden curtain, hanging from the ceiling.

With trembling hands, I grabbed the curtain, and I pulled it strongly, and it fell to the floor.

"NOOO... PLEASE DON'T HURT ME..."

I remained shocked for a few seconds, looking at the poor girl squatted on the floor in front of me. She was looking at me with two large and terrified blue eyes; her face was completely covered in tears, and on the forehead, blood was coming out from a deep wound.

She was dressed in a dark blue robe, which was lacerated in more parts, probably due to an evident fight, her hair was long and clear blonde, but all ruffled and dirty.

I felt an incredible pity for her, and I tried to talk in a very sweet and reassuring voice tone.

"Please don't be afraind... I am not going to hurt you..."

I stretched my hand to her, but she stared at me doubtfully.

"I just want to help you... please trust me..."

"Are you a witch like me?"

I remained astonished by that question, and it took me a few seconds to be able to speak again.

"Yes, you are right, I am a witch... my name is Hermione Granger, and which is your name?"

"My name is Angy... Angy Pureheart..."

It looked like the girl was starting to calm down, even if she didn't wnat to take my hand yet. I tried to ask her a few other questions.

"May I ask you what're you doing here?"

"No, I can't tell you.... I'm on a Top Secret mission for the Ministry of Magic.... "

Suddenly I realized that maybe she knew something about Harry.

"I'm on a mission too... I have to meet a wizard, and maybe you could help me... His name is Harry Potter... maybe you saw him somewhere... maybe you..."

Abruptly she covered her face with her hands, and burst into a desperate crying.

"Did you see him? Do you know something about Harry Potter? Please, please tell me! What's happened to him?"

Angy cried even more, and my worry was starting to grow.

"Those damned.... those damned Death Eaters.... how could they have done it? How?" She cried.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? PLEASE TELL ME!"

I was losing my temper and started to scream at her. Then I sat down next to her, grabbing her hands and staring directly in her eyes. I wanted desperately to know the truth.

She looked at me desperately, with her eyes full of tears, then slowly spoke.

"HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!"