Ancient Prophesy

Chapter Eight

Our world has no right to know it, and the world beyond will tell naught,
The oldest of Gods are invoked there, the great work of Magic is wrought.

If the Portkey felt like a roller coaster, this felt like the scrambler; but where the scrambler slows down and gently stops, the Floo Network just drops the traveler at the requested location. And drop she did. Stumbling and coughing, Raven lurched forward and careened into a display rack. That in itself would not have been so bad, but knocking over an entire rack of Weasley's Wicked Whizzing Balls only added to the confusion. Golf ball size orbs were bouncing of their own accord, a riot of color and motion everywhere.

Two identical stares of fury caught her attention before she threw up her arms to ward off an assault of bouncing balls. Harry had no such luck, having just arrived in the wake of Raven's calamity. Before he knew what he was doing he had caught a ball in each fist, ducking his head to miss the third. A fourth managed to slip through, catching his glasses and knocking them crooked on his face.

"Great catch, Harry!" shouted one of the two men. He had leapt over the store counter, cloak in hand, and was attempting to smother another dozen or so of the colorful little demons. The second man held the door open for a woman as she escaped the frenzy within the shop. The balls had their own ideas about being caught and several of them bounced through the storefront window avoiding capture. The woman, now outside, ducked as balls, glass and several curse words flew toward her.

As soon as the balls were caught they lay still, and Raven watched in amazement as Harry deftly plucked ball after ball from the air around him and then threw them to the waiting hands of the second man. The first had continued the job of casting the cloak like a fisherman casting a net, each successive toss dropping several balls at a time to the floor.

Raven, not knowing what else to do, proceeded to gather up the stationery balls and replace them in their now righted display rack. Several minutes later, with the chaos captured and returned to its normal resting spot, Raven managed an apologetic grin toward the two men whose shop she had thoroughly managed to trash. Glass lay everywhere, merchandise knocked from shelves lay scattered on the floor, and several strangely colored pools of fragrant liquid were sending vapors floating into the air. Biting her lower lip in frustration and embarrassment, she tilted her head at Harry and announced sheepishly, "Blame it on him, he made me do it."

With introductions over and the task of cleaning up the shop completed, Raven found herself in the back workroom of the twin's shop. They were as colorful a pair as she had imagined and she found herself instantly liking them, regardless of the threats they threw her way.

"I don't know, George, it might be of some help having someone who knows the odder uses of plants on the payroll. We can deduct the repair costs from her first check!" Raven glared at him over the rim of her teacup.

"Harry fixed the window," she said, knowing full well they were teasing her.

"I don't know, Fred, she did spill three bottles of Love Potion #9 on the floor. Thanks to the smell of that stuff I think you're just in love with her now and want to keep her all to yourself."

"You got it in one, George, but I think I'm going to have to duel our silent partner here for her hand."

Raven turned her gaze on Harry sitting silently through the banter. "Are you going to help me or just sit there?"

"Oh nooo...I learned a long time ago what the silent in partner meant."

"You're really in business with these two?" she asked in amazement.

A single finger came to his lips and he whispered--"Shhhh. Don't tell anyone. It would ruin their business."

Raven snorted at this and looked Harry squarely in the eye. "And just what's wrong with being associated with you Mr. Potter?"

At this a shroud dropped over Harry's face, the clowning replaced with a seriousness that worried her. Even Fred and George's posture altered perceptibly enough that Raven noted it.

It was George who broke the silent tension first. "You're one lucky lady if you`ve got Harry Potter as part of your family." This said he walked over and clapped Harry on the back. "All of the Weasleys are."

~*~

If Raven's trip into Hogsmeade showed her rural witches and wizards, then Diagon Alley showed her their metropolis. Busy, crowded and noisy, Raven felt right at home, even though she couldn't be farther away from New York--she found herself two centuries past and half a world away. The manner of dress didn't make much of a difference-- she'd seen far stranger garb in New York--but the city itself was not possible in twenty-first century London.

"Harry? You said Diagon Alley was in London. This can't be London."

``We're in London all right, Muggles just don't know where to look," he said.

"I see. There are places in New York like that. They don't exist unless you know where to find them." This said, Raven winked at him and continued. "Not that I'd know anything about such places."

"Just like I don't know my partners are making illegal love potions," Harry shot back.

Looking around her in wonder, she took in as much as she could while Harry steered her through a maze of cobbled streets packed with activity. Everywhere witches and wizards, up for the day's shopping, strolled about. The streets were lined with the most fascinating shops Raven had ever seen. Well, almost, she laughed to herself.

"Our shop would fit right in here, Harry. I never realized the uniqueness of Cedarwood until now. I just thought Mum had read too much Dickens as a child. Bizarre decorating tastes aside; she really just made it a home away from home for us, didn't she?" Raven didn't expect an answer. How could Harry understand what it was like growing up on the edge of something so grand as magic and not being given the chance to fully understand it?

"At least she showed you a bit of who she was," Harry said looking down at his feet as he walked. "I got dropped into the middle of this when I was eleven. Came as quite a shock. The people I lived with did everything in their power to keep magic from me. Sometimes I wonder if they weren't doing me a favor. I could handle Dudley, Voldemort's been a bit more difficult." Shrugging he continued. "You're lucky though, no one knows who you are; I've had to live up to the name Harry Potter since the day I realized who he was."

"And just who is Harry Potter?" Raven asked with a questioning look so intense it startled him. Shrugging again, he didn't answer her.

Stopping in front of a small shop, Harry pointed to the display of gowns and robes. "We can get you the basics here, and some Muggle clothes in a London shop later."

Both the gowns in the window display were black, and Raven noted with distaste that the little witch helping them had selected every dark shade imaginable for her to try on. She wrinkled her nose once again in disgust, making Harry laugh at her as she glided around the room in the latest functional but shapeless robe.

"I hate black, Harry. When I wear it everyone thinks I'm some Goth teen wanna-be out to cause trouble. You have no idea how many girls came up to me wanting the name of my hairdresser. Oh, that color is just to die for. It looks so natural," she mimicked sarcastically.

Harry smiled at Raven's imitation of a depressed youth fawning over her own natural color. "There is no rule that states professors must wear black, Raven, and technically you're not a student either, but you will be working with Snape. I just thought..." At this he stopped. The gleam in Raven's eye told him more than he wanted to know.

"Miss Malkin," said Raven, her voice dripping with sweetness. "What do you have in pink?"

~*~

Three work robes, one winter cloak and a pair of shoes later, Raven found herself sitting quietly with Harry in a shop called Ollivander's. The old wizard's pale eyes had darted over to them as they entered the shop and bore intently into Raven's own before returning to a witch he was already advising from behind his counter. A ripple of energy washed through her the moment she walked through the door. She felt drained and tired and just a tad bit unnerved.

"Harry, I can use my Mum's wand," she whispered to him. "I don't want to spend any more of your money. Let's just get to a phone and I'll make arrangements to repay you." She wanted to leave the shop as quickly as possible, unsure why she felt as she did.

Harry noticed the unease in her voice. The pale blush of her face had drained away to be replaced by an ashen look. But before he could question this, Mr. Ollivander stood looking down at them.

"This is an unexpected visit, Mr. Potter." He spoke to Harry but his gaze fell on Raven. His eyes hardened and he turned to Harry, continuing to speak. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Ah...not me Mr. Ollivander. My friend, she will be working at Hogwarts with Professor Snape and she needs a new wand." Harry continued to hold Mr. Ollivander's narrowed look. Something was definitely odd about his behavior toward the two of them and Harry was now feeling as uneasy as Raven looked.

"Dumbledore is allowing her to work with Snape?" Ollivander straightened in surprise and turned to boldly stare at Raven. "Did he also suggest you come here for a wand?"

"No, Mr Ollivander," Harry said as he stood up and faced him. "I suggested it. But if you have a problem..."

Mr. Ollivander dismissed Harry's comment with a wave of his hand and his expression softened slightly as he spoke. "So Dumbledore didn't send her?"

Harry puzzled at this strange question but answered with a simple "No."

"Very well then, we shall see what I have for her." Looking skeptically once more at Raven, he reached behind his counter and pulled a box from beneath. Opening it, he withdrew a simple wand, no more than ten inches in length, and handed it to Raven.

Harry looked in disbelief at Mr. Ollivander. What was going on here? No measurements, no selection, and no thought as to what wand he should give her. This was not like Mr. Ollivander, and he didn't like it at all.

Reaching tentatively for the wand Raven took hold and raised her eyes to Harry for further instruction. Clueless how to proceed, she felt herself growing angry at her treatment. This man was intentionally giving her a hard time.

"Well go ahead, give it a try," said Mr. Ollivander.

She had two choices as she saw it, start a fire in the shop or start opening wand boxes. As tempting as lighting a blaze under the old curmudgeon's arse was, she decided for once to behave herself and try for some boxes. Turning in her seat she faced the counter and concentrated on the small pile of wand boxes upon it. Focusing as Dumbledore had told her she pointed the wand at the top box and spoke: "Alohomora." Her heart beat painfully in her chest and her fingers began to burn where they touched the wand but no light issued form its tip and the box did not open.

"Curious, don't you think?" Snatching the wand from her hand, Mr. Ollivander walked to the closest wall and pulled another box down from it. Withdrawing a second wand he handed this one to Raven and with skepticism said, "Try again?"

This time her anger got the best of her. Pointing to the counter she pursed her lips in concentration and cried out "Incendio." This time a stab of pain filled her chest and radiated down her arm. It felt like someone was squeezing her breath from her lungs.

"Harry, please, let's go!" She stood quickly and found the room sliding away from her vision. Her hearing dulled and she reached out in an effort to right herself before she fell. The arm that balanced her returned her to her seat but continued to hold her shaking hand. Mr. Ollivander stepped forward, taking his wand back just as Harry placed himself between the two in and effort to shield Raven.

"What the hell is going on?" Harry took a step toward Mr. Ollivander before he realized what he was doing. Only Raven's hand pulling him back stopped him from advancing further.

"Harry, wait. I'm all right now. I just want to leave."

"That may be for the best," Mr. Ollivander responded. "I don't make wands for your type. My father did, but they were destroyed twenty years ago along with half this shop and him."

Raven bristled. "What do you mean my type?"

"The stars have proclaimed your arrival for some time now." His look intensified, pale eyes assessing Raven. "I must say I didn't expect you to come here for a wand, though. You can't use these wands, but you should know that. They felt you come in just as I did. You could destroy each with a touch and they fear you for it."

At this Harry interrupted. "Mr. Ollivander, Raven was raised in America. She only wants..."

"Raven? `Empress o'er the strange woods, o'er the great sea, over spirits on the Raven's wing´-- you're the White Raven, are you not?"

"I...I don't know. How do you know that? He just said that to me yesterday. How do you know who I am?" Raven asked, every word filled with apprehension.

"Dumbledore never said anything like that to you, did he?" Harry said his face lined with confusion.

"Snape. When I was in the woods with him yesterday."

"In the Forest? When did he take you into the Forest?"

"Yes, I find it quite strange," Ollivander said, "that Severus Snape should be handed the very thing that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wants even more than you, Mr. Potter. Very curious indeed, don't you think, that Professor Dumbledore would not do all he could to keep her and that Death Eater apart."

Too confused to even comment, Raven just shook her head. What was it about Severus Snape that everyone reacted to? Even Harry and Snape had a past as yet unknown to her. "Look, I'm not here to hurt anyone or anything," she finally said. "Including your-- wands? I've used a wand and it didn't affect me at all like those two did. It felt to me like they were doing a pretty god job of protecting themselves!" She rubbed her arm in memory and scowled back at Mr. Ollivander.

"The wand that you speak of. May I see it?"

"No, I had no place to put it in these clothes," she said, tugging down on her sweater.

"Do you know who made it?"

Shaking her head no she held out her right hand. "It's one my mother had with a set of robes and this ring."

Ollivander stepped forward and lifted Raven's hand into the light of the window.

"You wear the band of the Ravenclaw family. The wand you speak of would be its companion. The core inside will be the mate to this stone. You see," he continued, his silver eyes flashing with knowledge, "a White Witch needs an earth element to focus her magic. The magical cores I use would all be drained of their energy in the hands of the geal sorcie're."

"The White Sorceress," Raven repeated for Harry's benefit. "But what are earth elements?" she inquired, looking at Ollivander.

"Air, Earth, Fire, Water, and Spirit. Your ring is water; an aquamarine of that size is hard to find these days. Fire would be a Ruby, Earth an Emerald and Air an Opal. Spirit is the hardest to obtain of all--an Adamantine or black Diamond. The core of the wand you speak of is no doubt an aquamarine. If you have used that wand it is the only possible answer." He paused and look at Raven again with such focus that she felt the hairs at the nape of her neck tremble. "Know this--a White Witch can control much with an Elemental Wand, but those very same elements are the only thing that can control a White Witch."

~*~

As he and John Levine walked through the corridors of the Ministry, Ron could feel heads turn and eyes follow them. With indigo uniform robes billowing behind and polished black boots striding purposefully over the white Ministry marble floors, the new generation of Aurors made most heads turn. Certainly the female ones.

New recruit applications came in daily for review, but it was `The First´ class, his class, that was the chosen elite of the new Aurors of the Ministry.

Yes, Aurors were the stuff of legend, Ron reflected. The problem was most of the Aurors left at the Ministry were twice as old as the legends themselves. Over the years a false sense of complacency had occurred within the Ministry. Voldemort was thought to be gone. Most who had fought him had also fought Grindelwald. Many retired, few were replaced, and those left were hardly battle-ready. With Moody as a driving force, a new generation of Aurors had been recruited.

At 26, John Levine was the oldest with the most field experience of `The First.´ He had spent time in both Romania and Stateside in the city of New Orleans hunting Vampires. Ron himself had more practical experience fighting Voldemort than Levine did, but for a partner he couldn't ask for a better man. And right now his partner was about to come unglued.

They had cleaned up, changed from their field gear into issued robes, and presented the latest recon info to the board of adjudicators. It should have been swift, sweet justice. Or so they thought.

"How did they do it? Those low life codless scuts! Did he pay them all off?" he asked Ron incredulously. Not waiting for an answer, he continued. "Malfoy's got enough money to do it, but I didn't think they were all in his back pocket. How much more proof do we need to bring them? He's supporting the Dark Lord!

Levine was practically shouting by now, but Ron did not answer, choosing instead to walk with deliberate, paced steps. Away from the meeting room and away from the Malfoys. If he opened his mouth now it would be to hurl an unforgivable straight at Draco Malfoy's smug face. He had controlled himself throughout the meeting, a control learned after years of facing down Draco at school. Ignore him, just ignore him rang in his ears, the high soprano voice like fingernails down the chalkboard. He either would hit Hermione or kiss her the next time he saw her.

Levine had continued to rant on, reciting the list of facts they had presented to the panel in an effort to bring the Malfoy family up on charges. "I can't believe Lucius Malfoy had an alibi." With a flick of his wand he upended the potted plants framing the archway through which the two thundered. "And Fudge--supporting his alibi! What was Fudge doing at a party hosted by the Malfoys in the first place? Gentlemen, I spoke with him myself. I would have seen him leave his own party!" He mimicked.

Ron responded with one word--"Polyjuice."

"That just proves our point. How long does it take to make that shit anyway?"

"Twenty-eight days."

"Then they had to have it ready. If Malfoy helped to take Potter..."

"Malfoy did take Potter."

"Then everything was planned out. Even down to the party at Malfoy Manor as the alibi."

"Yep."

"That's all you can say?"

"Nope." Slowing, Ron turned into the next corridor and walked straight through a group of wizards, scattering them like hens.

"And how do you get a permit for Dragons?" Levine continued, not even turning at the disgruntled comments thrown after them. "They've been impossible to get since the Warlocks' Convention of 1709."

"I don't know, but I intend to find out." Reaching the end of the hall Ron opened the door to the office of The Department of International Magical Cooperation and stormed straight through into the interior office without knocking. Walking to the fireplace, he grabbed a jar on the mantle and without a second glance at the man behind the desk threw the entire jar into the fire, scattering powder and porcelain everywhere.

"Charlie, damn it! Where the hell are you? CHARLIE?!!

"Ronald Weasley! What do you think you are doing storming into my office like this? I don't care who you are, this is my office and I won't have you..."

"Can it Percy, I out rank you--Charlie are you there?"

"Certainly he would have answered you if he was. Now stop bellowing before I..."

"Before you what, Perce? Call Dad? He's still fighting with Fudge."

"Fighting with the Minister of Magic is not the way to get things done around here. I wish he would realize that," Percy said before Ron could interrupt him again.

"Oh and just how are things done around here, Percy? How Malfoy orders them? Or--hey, here's an idea--let's just let Voldemort have your office--after all, it is the office of Magical Cooperation!" he shouted.

"Ron." Levine reached out, putting a calming hand on his shoulder. "Ron! We will find a way to prove our case."

"You didn't see Harry. Neither of you were there when they brought him in the last time. I swore I'd get Malfoy and make him pay."

Percy walked around his desk to stand before his youngest brother. Looking up at him he realized for the first time just how fast Ron had been forced to grow up. The man standing before him was no longer the scrawny, gangly youth forced into his older brothers' hand-me-downs. The man standing there now was a force in his own right, forged in a war that no one believed would come. But come it had, sending shock waves through the entire wizarding world. The battle had just begun and Ron was leading the charge. The vendetta against the Malfoy family was personal, though, and Percy worried that Ron's zealous pursuit of it would cost him everything he had gained so far.

"Ron, I appreciate everything you have done in the battle with You Know Who, but you can't make it a personal battle at the expense of your career here," Percy said.

"And that's where you and I are different, Perce." Ron took one step closer to his brother, planting a finger squarely into his chest. "Voldemort made this a personal battle for me a long time ago. Our family and friends are all in more danger than you or any of Fudge's flunkies around here are willing to admit, and until you do admit it Percy, then it is my personal job to protect you!"

From the door a voice spoke quietly behind him. "Ron?"

Whirling around with reflexes bred by fear, Ron found himself facing Harry. Lowering his wand he spoke. "Good way to get yourself stunned, mate. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you, too, Ron," Harry said sarcastically, looking around at the scene before him. "Now put your wand away and tell me what's going on."

"I knew you were coming to Diagon Alley to meet with Lupin, but why are you at the Ministry?" Ron asked, looking around Harry nervously. If the Malfoys were anywhere close right now, Harry was bound to see them. Moving quickly, wand still drawn, Ron moved into the outer office to close the door. Recognizing two of the three people there, Ron turned to the third and asked in a voice that rivaled a drill sergeant's: "Who are you?"

Folding her arms in front of her, Raven fixed him with a condescending stare that caused him to stop dead in his tracks. Ron hadn't been stopped that effectively in years.

"You know, Weasley, Fred and George should teach you some manners. I trashed their shop and they at least offered me a cup of tea."

"She's with me, Ron," Harry spoke behind him. "We were next door getting some documents from the Antiquities Department. Charlie was in a meeting with Moody when we left." He tilted his head to the wall and continued. "Your voice carries."

"Harry, I'm sorry."

Shaking his head Harry stopped him. "Ron, Percy is right. You can't let this become a personal vendetta against the Malfoys. It's not worth your life and it wasn't worth Hagrid's either."

As Raven watched Harry, the shroud she had seen before covered him and she realized for the first time what this shroud was: the depth of fear he carried for the safety of his friends. Both men stared at each other, neither knowing what to say next.

"Malfoy had an alibi," Ron said, breaking the silence first. "We just left the judiciary panel." He walked past Harry as he spoke and returned to Percy's office where John still stood, watching the scene unfold.

"Hello, Harry. It's good to see you up and out," John said offering him his hand. "They also have permits now to keep, maintain and train six dragons. I'm guessing that's what Moody and Charlie were discussing."

"Percy," Harry nodded. "Sorry about commandeering your office."

"I'm not." Raven heard Ron mumble. She suppressed a smile and continued to glare at him.

"You're always welcome here, Harry, you know that," Percy said glaring at Ron as well. "But you must introduce us to your lovely friend?" He smiled winningly at Raven, took her hand, and bowed in a most charming manner. "Percival Ptolemy Weasley at your service."

Her smile cracked as she recognized him to be another member of the Weasley clan and she responded with her best stage curtsy, hampered greatly by the short skirt. "Raven Klause. I'm please to meet you, Mr. Weasley."

Percy's chest puffed noticeably, and a now familiar look of confusion flashed across the three faces but she did not elaborate further, finding she rather enjoyed the reaction.

Ron caught Harry's eyes and years of silent communication told him not to question anything further. Especially in front of Percy.

"Do you need to return to the field right now, Ron or can you join us for lunch? We're meeting Lupin." Ron knew there was more than lunch on the menu and silently shook his head in acknowledgment at Harry.

"We're meeting at noon. A friend of his opened a new restaurant called Canis Meus Id Comedit."

Raven grimaced. "What do they serve, dog food?"

"No. Wolf," Harry answered matter-of-factly.

~*~

Professor Lupin greeted Harry with a wide smile and a warm hug. Raven could see Harry's fondness for him from the moment they sat at their table. In his late thirties, with a kind smile and gentle eyes, Raven suspected this man was a still river that ran very deep. Even his hair, light brown streaked with gray, spoke of a calming wisdom that settled Harry the second they touched.

"Harry, I'm sorry we weren't there when you woke. I was under a time restraint then and it hardly would have done any good with me there. Dumbledore offered me a place to stay, but I thought it best to be where I was comfortably away from everyone. Sirius left to check up on things and evidently that's when you came around."

"Yeah, I had to wake to this ugly git staring down at me." He jerked his finger at Ron who smiled sheepishly at both men. The camaraderie between the men clearly showed. As young as they were, they had seen a lot together, Raven thought. How much had they been through that she herself had been sheltered from?

"Professor. Ron. I'd like you to meet Raven Ravenclaw."

"I see. Ms. Ravenclaw, I am pleased to meet you. Though I must admit it comes as a bit of ahh...surprise," Lupin said, casting a questioning glance at Harry. He may have calmed Harry, but Raven found herself a bit uncomfortable. Lupin's gray eyes assessed her from top to bottom with a familiar look of recognition. The wheels were turning in his mind. She didn't think she looked that much like her mother that a stranger would note it.

"Excuse my rudeness, but Headmaster Dumbledore has met you and I'm assuming now believes Ezmarelda Ravenclaw not only lives but has a daughter as well?"

"Yes, I'm her daughter. Yes, she did survive what happened at Ravenglass." Raven took a deep breath and continued. She owed this man no explanation but found herself talking anyway. "Mum and I lived in New York. She never told me a thing about here." Stopping, she looked at the cast of characters around her in the restaurant. Only in her wildest dreams could she have imagined eating lunch surrounded by players from a Grim Brothers' fairy tale. "Somehow they found us. Mum's dead now and two days ago I ended up in the middle of a dungeon on the wrong end of Snape's wand."

At this, Lupin's eyes narrowed and Ron leaned forward. At the same time both men spoke--"How did you get into the castle?" Ron asked. "Severus has seen you? I would have loved to have seen that." Lupin added after.

"He blasted her through the wall," Harry said.

Raven interrupted, grimacing at the thought. "Not really. It was the cauldron I knocked over. He just flung me down the stairs and broke my wrist."

"I'm surprised that's all he did. Must have come as quite a shock seeing you. After all, he was at Ravenglass." Ron paused and reached for his drink, "A toast to Hogwarts' Death Eater!"

"Ron." Lupin leaned forward. "Lower your voice. Dumbledore knows all about..."

"Yeah, and I know all about it, too. Been keepin' company with Moody of late remember?"

"And you'd do good to remember that Moody is a bit jaded in his opinion of Severus Snape and others." The stress on the word `others´ was obvious.

"For good reason," Ron shot back "Snape's killed on Voldemort's orders, and you know it Professor. He was at Ravenglass and Godric's Hollow. You tell me why we should trust him!"

"Because Dumbledore does."

It took a moment for Raven to realize the implications. "Professor Snape was at Ravenglass as a Death Eater? He helped with that? Then he was there when they tried the first time to murder Mum and find me!" She felt ill at the thought. For all she knew he could have also been in Cedarwood the very night of her death--God, I let him touch me. Help me.

Harry interrupted, shushing them all. "Ron, Dumbledore believes Snape tried to stop Voldemort going to Godric's Hollow. We've talked." At this his attention turned to Lupin and apologetically he continued. "He trusts Professor Lupin, and he believed Sirius just on our word. He has reason to trust Snape. The man's an arrogant ass, but he would never do anything to betray Dumbledore's trust." A vision of a hooded Snape surrounded by his fellow Death Eaters came unbidden to Harry conscious memory. Blinking to clear the vision, a negative image of a blinding flash issuing from Snape's wand shone bright on Harry's eyelids. His scar began to throb and his eyes ached from the brightness.

"Harry. Harry? Are you all right?" Lupin's voice broke through the light and brought him back to the table at which he sat. Ron, Raven and Lupin stared at him, each with looks of concern on their face.

"Just tired." Rubbing his eyes once more, Harry reached down to the satchel at his feet. Lifting the bundle of paper from within it he placed the entire packet down in front of Lupin. "We just left the office of Prentiss M. Brown. Dumbledore asked him to retrieve all the files in the Antiquities Department pertaining to the Hufflepuff Prophecy as well as the birth charts the Ministry attempted to compile." Harry stopped here and looked quite sternly at Lupin. "Now I get to be rude. Just how much more is there to tell me, Professor? It's my life to control now. Not the Dursleys', not Dumbledore's, and not you nor Sirius'."

"I see," Lupin said. Looking at the three of them. "And Ron, does he know yet?"

"No," Harry said grimly as Ron looked over his mug between the two men, foam from his drink looking all the world like an amber mustache. "I think we better feed him first."

~*~

With the meal finished and the plates cleared, Raven noticed Ron's anger had subsided to some extent. Either a full stomach had calmed him or the knowledge of his place in the prophecy put him in shock. She hadn't spoke much during the meal, instead preferring to remain quiet and learn as much as she could of these three men. That, and something about the restaurant intrigued her. She knew she should expect the unusual in such an extraordinary place as Diagon Alley. But some of these people were just downright bizarre. She truly felt surrounded by a Grim Brothers' fairy tale.

Making up just a few of the very odd assortment within were hags, dwarves, goblins and what she thought just might be an enchantress. Long hair, so fair it seemed white, flowed behind her and as she walked by the heads of most of the men in the restaurant turned to follow her. Ron, Raven noted, seemed to flush considerably as he turned his attention back to Harry

The restaurant itself wasn't unusual, rather the patrons. This one was very stylish. She had eaten in her share of restaurants over the years. More than she cared to admit. There was not a botanical mixture in the world her mother could not make and then sell in their shop, but God help them both if she used the kitchen stove. Looking at the menu she realized she would have preferred her mother's cooking to some of the food selections here: Raw Liver and Onions, Haggis, Cullen Skink--whole haddock with mashed potatoes, and Gralloch--disemboweled entrails of fresh forest kill. Surprisingly the chicken she ordered--cooked--tasted delicious. Even the service deserved praise. The plates, glasses and eating utensils baffled her the most. Made of cut crystal, every piece seemed like it belonged at a table of a king. Only magic could explain their delicate beauty tempered with strength.

"Ron's chart is as complete as Molly could make it," Harry had continued, pointing to the documents before them. "After giving birth five times prior, the details of Ron's birth were a bit sketchy in Molly's mind. Voldemort's is as complete as Dumbledore could make it. Raven's chart is the problem. Without the missing information we have no way to apply these four charts to the master chart prepared by Helga. Dumbledore hopes that once the correct information is gathered we will have a true prediction of Voldemort's future movements. To date, every prediction Helga recorded has in fact happened but the Ministry could only identify this on the composite chart after it occurred. So you see," Harry said gravely, "our main reason for wanting to locate Raven's father is to complete her chart and then attempt to predict Voldemort's next move."

Ron shook his head. "My mum and dad have known about this for how long now, and never bothered once to mention it to me."

"Welcome to my world, Ron," Harry shot back, the frustration clear in his voice. "At least we had the benefit of learning magic. Raven's nineteen and only in the last two days has she had a chance to take all this in."

"But I don't get it. Weren't there any signs that you were a witch?" Ron questioned her, not quite fully understanding all Harry had told him.

"From what I see now, Mum did the best job she could teaching me the basics without actually teaching me witchcraft. I've only managed two spells since I've been here and those were with the wand my mum had--Rowena Ravenclaw's wand."

"And Rowena Ravenclaw was a White Witch, who together with Godric Gryffindor defeated Salazar Slytherin? But I thought only a White Witch could use an Elemental Wand."

"Very good, Ron. An A for this lesson," Lupin smirked, waiting for Ron's brain to catch up with what his mouth just said.

"Oh...OHHHHH!" His eyes grew large and his head snapped around to stare directly at Raven. "She's the White Witch of the prophecy! Oh, this is not good."

"Bit slow on the uptake isn't he?" Raven smirked.

"You know...I didn't ask to get dragged into this!" Ron shot back defensively. There's nothing special about me. I'm not a Parselmouth; I'm not a White Witch."

"And I did?" she roared back at him. "My mother just got murdered because of that prophecy. You think I'm happy being something I know nothing about!? This isn't my world. Things like this just don't happen to me."

"Well, they don't happen to me either." Ron replied just as tersely.

"Oh, I don't know about that, Ron," Harry interrupted. "After all, how many Aurors do you know who get to eat lunch with a Parselmouth, a White Witch and a werewolf at the same time?"

"Very clever. Do you know what Moody will do to me if he ever finds out about this?" Ron groaned.

Neither of the men noticed Raven as she turned to stare into Lupin's eyes. Deep reflective pools of gray met her pools of aqua without flinching. Neither Raven nor Lupin blinked and Raven realized he awaited her reaction to the revelation. Well, she wasn't going to be a paranoid ass like Weasley. As near as she could figure Parselmouths and White Witches seemed just as mistrusted as the legendary werewolf. Apparently they weren't legend either.

"So this restaurant serves the alternate crowd I take it?" Raven asked Lupin.

"You might say that."

Raven scanned the restaurant once more, several questions answered. "And werewolves rank right up there with White Witches in the bad guy department?"

"You might also say that."

"I don't feel like a bad guy," she quipped, hearing the tension in his voice.

"Neither do I."

"I'm sorry, Professor Lupin," Harry interjected. "I had no right to let it slip like that. You should have had the choice."

Lupin waved aside his apology. "I think she would have figured it out herself in a few more moments. In case you two haven't noticed, this place is a bit odd."

"I did wonder about the crystal silverware. Not just bullets then?" she joked hoping to lighten the mood. "You're not the only one in here are you?"

"No as a matter of fact, the owner and several of the wait staff are werewolves. Silver, no matter what form, causes us pain. So, you can imagine the difficulty eating with silverware." Lupin waved to the owner, signaling him over. As the man approached, Raven realized he seemed almost hesitant to join them at the table. He stared pointedly at Ron as if daring him to say something.

"Mr Potter, nice to see you again. And you, Lupin, have caused quite a stir. Half my staff and several of the patrons tried to run out the back door when they saw you show up with an Auror." He directed another stare at Ron who looked startled at the implication.

"I am so dead when Moody finds out," Ron grumbled massaging his brow with his thumb and forefinger.

"Aurors support the Ministry just like we do in the effort to find and defeat Voldemort," Lupin interjected. "The sooner everyone realizes that, Michael, the better things will be for all of us."

"Bah--the Ministry's full of fools. You know Voldemort has approached all those classified as beasts, promising them the world for their support. The only thing the Ministry gives us--Werewolf Support Services right down the hall from a Werewolf Capture Unit. Our respect for Dumbledore and all he's done for us--that's what keeps us from joining the wrong side."

"And he'll continue to do all he can for us, my friend. Of that I'm sure." Remus clapped him on the back and turned his attention once more to Raven. "Michael, this is Raven. She will be working closely with Professor Snape while at Hogwarts. If I'm not available to act as the go-between, you can trust her with any deliveries."

With a sly look, Michael appraised Raven, and again she felt that her reaction to Lupin's words would gain her a strong ally or a ferocious enemy. Though she had no clue what Professor Lupin meant by this remark, his faith in her clearly held sway with Michael.

"I'm not too thrilled about the job either. Snape is not my idea but Professor Dumbledore's," she said, keeping her face as vacant as possible. "I even bought a nice pink robe to work in." At this she allowed a mischievous half smile to play across her face in hopes of winning Michael's confidence. The gamble paid off as he snorted at the thought of Snape's reaction to a pink robe, nodded in approval, and then left the table.

"Now I just need regular clothes and a phone. If I don't let Roy know where I am he'll have the FBI looking for me soon."

~*~

When Lupin suggested placing an international call from the Hotel Savoy, Raven practically jumped up and kissed him. She never dreamed Diagon Alley sat so close to the Theater District of London. Harry brought her out into Muggle London through a tiny inn called the Leaky Cauldron. Sandwiched between a bookshop on one side and a record shop on the other Raven suspected the people on the street didn't even see the tavern at all. Once she thought about the location it only made sense. Her Mum often said New York was a great place to hide for those who didn't want to be found, and this place was so much like the area she grew up in. She was certain of one thing--when she got back to New York she would look much closer at some of the back street pubs off Broadway.

Raven sprinted up the street practically dancing with anticipation, only to realize seconds later that Harry did not share in her enthusiasm. "Raven, I haven't a clue how to find the Savoy from here. This is Muggle London, not Diagon Alley, and I'm not all that familiar with the area."

"Oh, come on, Harry; everyone knows the Savoy."

"No, some of us don't."

"The Savoy Grill is the rendezvous for leading stars, impresarios, critics and anybody who's royal," she informed him. "Maharajahs have take up residence there and the Archbishop of Canterbury attended a cabaret at the Savoy Theater. If you're eccentric this is the place to be! Look--over there," she said, wiggling like a dog with a new toy, "that has got to be the Thames. The Hotel is right on the banks. You can see most of the major sights from the better rooms. The Tate Modern, the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben and the Millennium Wheel are all within sight of the Savoy--perfect if you want to explore! You can't tell me you haven't seen Big Ben!"

"Raven, I don't know how to explain my relationship with the Dursleys." Harry looked frustrated as he struggled for a way to express the distrust and abuse he had grown up with. "They never took me anywhere if they could help it. On the few occasions I was permitted to go with them to London it wasn't a pleasurable experience."

"Then we'll see them together. Oh, come on Harry, let me show you. I've read all about it. This may be our only chance to play tourist. Though how you've lived here all your life and they never bothered to take you to see any of it is beyond me."

"If you met them you'd know."

Grabbing his hand she pulled him after her. "You ever hear of Gilbert and Sullivan?" His blank look told her no and she continued. "The Savoy was built in 1889 by Richard D'Oyly Carte as the home of Gilbert and Sullivan's Savoy Operas; it was the first theatre in London with electric lighting and private bath rooms. The first production I ever sang in was Pirates of Penzance by Gilbert and Sullivan; I was Ruth the Piratical Maid-of-all-work."

Harry nodded. "I can see you as a Pirate maid."

"An old maid," she rolled her eyes. "Not that glamorous of a part I assure you. But I was hooked on theater from then on."

Harry realized they were still walking hand in hand toward the river as she explained the opera. He wondered if she was even aware of it. He certainly was. She was so full of life, full of energy that Harry found himself feeling the effects of her in more ways than one. Quickly withdrawing his hand he realized how long it had been since he had felt as carefree as he had at the moment she touched him, pulling him with her toward the Thames.

"You'd like the character Fredrick," she continued. "He was an orphan too. Ruth, his nursemaid, messed up and apprenticed him to a pirate instead of a pilot. He doesn't want to be a pirate any longer and tells Ruth that he has done his best for the pirate band simply because it was his duty, and he is `the slave of duty.´ What he really wants to do is get his hand on Mabel, the daughter of his enemy, and make love to her again." At this she stopped, sighed heavily and placed her hand theatrically on her heart. "Typical romantic fairy tale with the man and woman living happily ever after."

"And you believe in the happily ever after of the fairy tale, do you?" he asked, not even sure why. He knew he didn't.

She fixed him with a look that went straight through the walls he had erected around himself, deeper than he thought was possible. "Harry, your world is a fairy tale to me. And I'm here with you, aren't I?"