Author's Notes: I'm just utterly and absolutely amazed at the response this story has received. I love this baby; you all know that, but you just can't imagine how unbelievably astonished (and grateful. Yes, very much so!) I am that so many readers are writing in. How in heck does one get 1000+ reviews? How?!? By having awesome readers, that's how! Still, I can't begin to comprehend what aspect of this entire story compels readers to leave reviews, so I'm just going to pray that I keep doing whatever it is I'm doing. Thank you so much for the overwhelming response. ^_^
And, of course, special thanks to tome_raider who has been an awesome beta for Chapters 26 and 27. ^_^ Lady Diamond, too, who-in spite of very pressing matters in real life, beta-ed Chapter 24! Yes, betas are the angels of the writing world.
Chapter rating: R
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Chapter Twenty-Sixth: Ghosts
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Considering that there was a great possibility that Yasmin hadn't had any part in the attack of the Hogwarts Express, Harry upped the priority of the Auror Department-sanctioned investigation of it. It very well meant that there was a mole in the Order, possibly completely independent of Yasmin's influence.
In truth, he was getting a bit paranoid, and he began to understand why Mad-Eye acted the way he did. Harry could only take comfort in the fact that he wasn't so far gone on paranoia that he would suspect just anybody. Of course, that didn't mean Draco got to keep his memories of that night in La Senorita, but that was another story altogether.
He was now going through the file rather meticulously, making notes and marking pages as he went. There wasn't anything compelling, and his few interviews of the passengers contributed very little, but the fact that he was doing something obsessively was welcome at the moment.
Shacklebolt had asked for three days for him to procure an off-the-record Portkey to Bulgaria. The head of the Auror Department had accomplished such a feat once before already, but having experience didn't make it any easier the second time around. Still, Shacklebolt was dependable, and Harry patiently gave him the three days, now he just needed to focus all his attentions on the investigation so that he didn't have to deal with the issue about Hermione.
He still hadn't talked to Hermione about her relationship with Viktor Krum. He wasn't acting angry anymore. He didn't snub her or treat her badly, but he had been distant, and evasive. Every time she brought up something remotely personal, or even intimate, he would change the subject, tell her he had something to do or turn to talk to someone else. He just didn't feel like dealing with the angst right now.
Every so often, whenever he would look at her and forget for a few seconds why he had blown his top, he felt the urge to give her a grin and maybe a snog, but then the revelations in the board room would rush back to memory and he'd be annoyed all over again.
"Annoyed" was putting it mildly, but that's what he liked to call it, anyway. He got particularly "annoyed" whenever he remembered what happened in the balcony of Elena's lounge room. It had been foreplay, and they could have very well picked up from where they left off once they got back to Grimmauld Place.
And then Yasmin… ARGH! That bitch!
He'd stabbed quite a few sandwiches, dotted and slashed holes in his parchment, and beat the punching bag out of shape during the many times he'd thought about it.
At least Hermione didn't look too happy about any of it, either. While she didn't make a big fuss out of his evasions, she wasn't her usual pleasant self. Of course, "pleasant" was relative to her vampirism, but she seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time un-smiling, which to Harry was partly reassuring. It helped too that she kept wearing the ring, even when it made her an easy target for Draco's mockery.
Now if only Harry could get over his anger.
He was dying to ask Ron if he'd been talking to Hermione about it. After all, Ron seemed to have become chummy with her again. They weren't getting all kissy-faced with each other, because that would have been terribly strange, but their little spats weren't bitter anymore, if they even fought at all, and they seemed to have grown comfortable around each other again, like she could quite casually request Ron to hold the punching bag for her while they talked idly of little matters, probably to catch up on the things they should have talked about when Ron was being snappy and mean to her.
Harry would probably ask Ron about it when Ron's schedule permitted it.
Lucien, in the meantime, had been reduced to groveling. Now that the issue with Yasmin had gotten sorted in its own, gut-wrenching way, Hermione was slowly, but surely, applying punishment, which was, it seemed, in the form of damning kindness. She was so kind to Lucien that Lucien, in his devotion, punished himself. This was particularly vicious, because Hermione was doing it to make him feel horribly sorry. She made it perfectly clear that she was being extra nice to him so that he could very well drown in his guilt. Solomon, who was probably party to Hermione's schemes, ensured that Lucien remembered just how much Lucien owed her, and that she hadn't deserved his carelessness in the least. So Lucien, wrought with remorse, did everything he could to make up for his transgressions. He cleaned even when he hadn't been asked to. He polished her boots, and Solomon's, and even Harry's. He fetched take-away for the humans; told Draco off when he abused the others and let Draco abuse him, even if it was obvious he wanted to rip into Draco's throat. The only reason he didn't go ahead and kill Draco was because Hermione would always say, "Oh, stop teasing him, Draco. Lucien, you know you won't stoop to his level, yes? You're too much of a sweetheart for that."
Harry had to admit, this punishment was far more effective than any physical pain Hermione could have dealt.
So really, Harry had quite a bit to fill the void that once was the pleasure of being in Hermione's company. When he wasn't investigating Hogwarts and when he wasn't evading intimate talks with her, he practiced his Legilimens and did fight training. She was-it seemed-a most dependable instructor. And perhaps having realized that he wasn't going to let his personal feelings get in the way of Order matters, she taught him without bringing up the details of their rather shaky relationship.
If anything, this separation of emotions from work seemed to have done his training good. His Legilimens was seemed to have gained an improved accuracy, even if he was still making a lot of mental noise. His focus in his physical training had grown sharp and he was fast learning new fighting moves even if he still couldn't clearly make out the patterns to call the magic. At the third day, they were working with wooden swords, and in this, Hermione sparred with him herself.
She was brilliant with a sword; disciplined and methodical, and she moved with perfect grace. Her technique flowed like water, her sword going one way, then another, undeterred by blocks or deflections. Her body moved with her weapon, like a well-practiced dance. She showed him how, then she told him how, adding useful pointers and explaining why it hadn't worked for him when it had worked so well for her. She was stern, but patient; frank, but encouraging. He could have used a teacher like her at the Auror academy. Maybe he would've become a far better swordsman.
It was in that same night that the portkey's location was delivered by Shacklebolt himself.
Kingsley Shacklebolt was ushered into Grimmauld Place and he walked in with his usual, business-like briskness. He took one cursory look at Fawkes who had settled on the nearby coat rack, upon which the Phoenix began to preen his horribly clumpy feathers. He was probably about ready to burst into flames any day.
Shacklebolt then told Harry where the portkey could be found. "The Leaky Cauldron." He gave Harry the room number. "The portkey will work until ten tomorrow evening, after which its effect will wane and Tom would let the room again. You will make your own portkey in Bulgaria using this tin can." At this, Shacklebolt handed Harry a disgustingly grimy can in a box. "The tin can has a security spell on it. You should be able to set your place of destination without fear of getting ambushed. Safe enough for you?"
Harry nodded. "Thank you, Kingsley. I promise you, this is worth risking your rank for. I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't important."
Shacklebolt arched an eyebrow. "I don't doubt that in the least. The general meeting of the Order is coming up in a week or so. I hope you make it worth our while."
Harry shrugged. "We'll see. Care to stay for tea, Kingsley? Dobby made scones."
Probably realizing that Harry had blatantly tried to change the subject, Shacklebolt didn't insist, and he humbly refused tea, telling Harry that he looked rather busy, anyway, wielding a wooden sword and looking winded from a work-out.
Shacklebolt had said his goodbyes and left.
Harry went back to training and quite calmly told everyone present that he had the portkey to Bulgaria ready.
"Oh," Ron said, looking just a tad uncomfortable. "That's good. When are we going to use it?"
"We'll head out tomorrow night," Harry said, not really meeting Hermione's gaze. "I don't think we should stay in Bulgaria long. We should try to return on the same night. That's not going to be a problem for Viktor, is it?"
For a moment, Hermione didn't reply, and Harry realized it was because she didn't know he was asking her.
"Hermione?"
She blinked. "O-Oh! You're asking me if Vik-erm, I don't think… well, Harry, the truth is, I don't really know. I haven't seen him in a while…"
"Well, you were with him for six months. How could you not know?" It was the closest he'd gotten to in three days to bringing it up again, and now she looked at him, probably wondering if she should make a big deal out of it. He didn't really feel like talking about it yet, but the mean-spirited words tumbled out of him before he could think better of it.
She exchanged a very brief glance with Ron, who shrugged.
"I don't think he's going to be a problem," she said, going to the bokken mounts to hang the wooden sword she was holding. "I think I've had enough sword training for tonight. You should get some rest, Harry. Busy night, tomorrow. I'll be in the library if anyone needs me."
Solomon and Lucien scampered to follow her, casting Harry weary glances as they went.
Harry watched her go, feeling only the slightest twitch of regret that he had been a tad nasty.
Ron sighed, seating himself on one of the benches and chilling the contents of his water bottle with a wave of his wand. "Feel better for what you said?"
Harry stared at the closed door a moment and scowled. "No. I feel horrible. I miss her, but it's like I have to be angry at her, or else I'd have to consider that distinct possibility that circumstance hadn't caused her to leave, that there was something wrong with me-"
"Harry, I never thought I'd say this to you, but here goes: Sometimes, you over-think things. It's simple, really. You love her but you're angry. Happens to couples all the time. I suppose you just need time to get over this. Sure, accepting what she did is like trying to have one's tooth yanked out with a wrench, but I think I believe her when she said she didn't do it to hurt you."
"She was dating Viktor Krum, international quidditch player. Did she think I wouldn't find out?"
"Well, you didn't, did you? Not until Yasmin dropped the bomb herself. Hermione did say that she specifically asked Krum to keep a low profile of their relationship…"
"I commend her for her success," Harry muttered, dropping on the bench next to Ron. "Honestly, mate, how can she even-she doesn't even like quidditch!"
"Now that just sounds like something I would say. She never liked Viktor Krum for being a quidditch star. She liked him because he… well, fancied her for who she was; before any of us noticed her at all…"
"That was way back in fourth year, Ron. I don't think she pulled that incident out of her memories and said to herself, 'I think I'll totally forget about the profound but embattled relationship I had with Harry and take up with Vicky. He was really nice to me in fourth year, after all.' I'm just not seeing it that way."
Ron cocked a smile. "You know you're my best friend, right? And I'll take your side against Krum's any day. Heck, I've even taken your side against Hermione, but let's just say for this one moment I'm trying to make you rethink what you said. What do you think I'll say?"
"Screw love, have sex?"
"Inspired, but no. I'd say, 'Potter, maybe it was about you for all the wrong reasons and not about you for the right ones.'"
Harry stared at him, eyes widening. "Holy crap, Ron… that's some deep shite, mate. I mean, quite perceptive, if you're not just spewing out Agony Aunt drivel. Did you really come up with that based on what you and Hermione have been talking about?"
"Actually, I got it from a Muggle movie Ginny made me watch. I thought it was stupid when I heard it, but looking into this situation you have with Hermione, I realized that it really can apply to real life. Clever movie, that…"
Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, even if he was secretly intrigued by the complexities of Ron's opportune quote. "So explain it to me, then. What were her wrong reasons and her right reasons?"
"I can only guess, Harry. Right reasons, first. She went with Viktor because he was a friend and she desperately needed one. He knew something about her background, because she and Viktor were constant pen pals up until she died, so he has an idea about you and me, which was probably important given her situation. She knew he cared about her because he went to her memorial all the way from Bulgaria just to pay his last respects. He's relatively quiet, undemanding and perhaps comfortably boring. The only connection you had with Viktor, really, was your being in the Triwizards Tournament with him, and while you were competitors, it wasn't as if the two of you were bitter rivals. You and Viktor have no common friends that would subject either of you to uncomfortable run-ins or awkward situations. You and Viktor weren't friends enough to make anyone think that her dating him would be inappropriate. And most importantly-lets face it-you didn't exactly begin to dislike Viktor until you started going out with Hermione. You were perfectly fine with Viktor before you started shagging her-"
"Oy!"
"Er, sorry. As I was saying, Krum was A-OK with you, and the fact that she chose to date him after you and she had broken up-so to speak-means her affair with Krum has no bearing whatsoever on your relationship. She didn't cheat. She didn't lie. It just happened to be Krum."
Harry sighed. "That's not the issue here, mate…"
"Let me finish. Now… the wrong reasons are these: She needed to forget her heartbreak. She was on the rebound. She was likely still heartsick when she started seeing Viktor. Viktor was safe. Viktor was easy. Her word, not mine. Viktor wasn't someone she could devastate and he wasn't someone who had to worry about the world first before he worried about himself. Viktor wasn't a real healing potion; he just numbed the pain. Viktor was the guy who wanted to have children, and since she couldn't give him that, she let him have other women…"
That startled Harry. He didn't know that. "You have got to be kidding me."
Ron gave a noncommittal shrug. "It wasn't a spoken arrangement between her and Viktor, and he probably didn't talk about the women, either, but I find it hard to believe that Hermione didn't know about them when he was-well, sleeping with them. The fact that the affairs didn't seem to bother her all that much… well, maybe she decided she wouldn't make a big fuss over it. According to her, their relationship just sort of-"
"Withered away…" Harry finished, remembering Solomon's description of it.
"Something like that. Six months may seem like a long time, Potter, but maybe… maybe that's just it. There was hardly anything there to make it matter the way your relationship with her mattered, so it was just six months of companionship. It's not that she gave up on you so soon, Harry. It's just that with Viktor, it never got to a point where she really tried with him because she probably thought he wasn't worth much of the effort. He was just… there."
Harry had to admit that what Ron said made him feel slightly better. "And you figured all this from talking to her these last few days?"
Ron made a noncommittal gesture. "Luna worked it out with me."
"Interesting, that," remarked Harry, purposely keeping it vague that he found the idea of Luna and Ron talking just as intriguing as the theories they formed together. "So you think I should try to talk to Hermione now?"
Ron thought about it a moment. "Well, maybe not now. Give her a bit of a hard time. Teach her a lesson."
Harry had to laugh at that. "Lesson… yeah, that ought to turn Ms. Books and Cleverness on."
"Well, if you wanna get all kinky about it…"
Harry shot him a wry smirk.
They were just about agreeing to do some more sword sparring when Remus walked into the gym looking slightly agitated.
Harry was at immediate alert. "Something wrong?"
Remus blinked in surprise. "What? Oh, no. Nothing really wrong. Just… erm, Tonks and I were having dinner at the Leaky Cauldron, see…"
Harry's eyebrow arched and he looked at Ron questioningly. Ron shrugged, just as perplexed as he was.
"That's… nice," Harry replied uncertainly.
Remus reddened and Harry began to worry. "Yes, well… we ran into somebody. Or rather, she ran into us… she had questions and she sounded quite upset… Tonks didn't want to leave her there considering her condition…"
"Remus, what are you talking about?"
Remus muttered something under his breath. Harry didn't catch it.
"What?"
Remus's brows furrowed and he took a deep breath to speak louder. "Cho Chang. She's downstairs."
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Harry wondered what in the world brought Cho all the way from Hong Kong to London to being in his drawing room. Everyone had known she had gone to Hong Kong, of course, and every once in a while, Harry would hear that she had been in town, usually when she was back in Hong Kong again.
"I wasn't too keen on the idea of Tonks bringing her here but I did feel bad for Cho," Remus said as they headed down the stairs.
"Blimey, Harry. Your women have perfect timing, it seems," Ron contributed.
Harry frowned at him. "Could you please stop calling them my women?"
"Sorry."
Remus continued. "She was crying and we didn't want to leave her there, what with the baby and…"
Harry stopped on the stairs and Ron barreled right into his back. Harry felt his stomach drop; like a feeling of impending doom had clunked in his stomach. "W-What?"
"Harry, you dog," Ron hissed. He did not look the least bit amused.
"Oy, we were careful!" Harry cried. "I think…"
Remus seemed surprised then he seemed to realize what he said. "Oh! But the baby isn't Harry's. It's the first thing we asked her when we saw her…"
Harry felt a bit weak-kneed from relief. He released a breath. "Christ, don't be saying stuff like that without warning, Remus! Bloody hell… for a moment there I seriously-anyway, does she even want to see me?"
"Actually, that's… she seemed to have come upon the news of-erm-Hermione. About, um, the fact that she isn't-you know, dead."
"Oh, dear," Ron whispered. "This is a rather interesting situation."
Harry winced. "No shit."
They reached the first floor and hastily made for the drawing room.
Upon throwing open the drawing room doors, he was struck by a somewhat astonishing picture. Sitting side by side on the couch was Tonks and Cho, the younger of the two weeping into a handkerchief while the older rubbed her back.
To the side of them was an elegant baby carriage with a blue-eyed, dark-haired infant gurgling happily amidst all the angst.
What was surprising was that Cho appeared to be-well, quite pregnant. She wasn't huge by any means. She had always been an athletic person, to begin with, and she probably hadn't been pregnant long, either, but it was because she was long-legged and slim that it was so obvious that she was with child.
To say that watching a pregnant weeping woman with a baby was disconcerting was about the biggest understatement since Hagrid once called Aragog a "wee eight-legged critter".
"Harry!" Tonks cried, as if mightily relieved to finally have him there.
Harry saw it coming in an instant. Tonks had every intention of leaving him with Cho. He shot Ron a warning glance.
"Leave me with her and you're dead," Harry muttered to Ron from the corner of his mouth.
Ron seemed to be thinking about it, probably looking back on any favors he could call Harry on. There weren't any at the moment, mainly because Harry had saved his life more times than Ron had saved him. Ron spewed a soft oath but stayed put.
Tonks promptly stood from the couch and ushered him to sit beside Cho. "Harry, Cho here has some questions for you. Cho? You can address Harry directly and… well, Remus and I will be in the kitchen if you need us, alright?"
Harry glared at her murderously while Tonks forced a reluctant Remus out of the drawing room. Ron sighed and sat himself on a nearby sofa-chair just when they were closed in.
"Erm… cute baby," Harry said.
Cho looked up at him, teary-eyed and miserable. She still looked heart-wrenchingly sweet in spite of it all, with her glossy hair combed to perfection and her exotic almond eyes brimming with the damsel-in-distress look that seemed to drive all the blokes crazy. It was perhaps why Harry decided to give their relationship a second chance back then. He did, after all, have a "saving people thing."
"His name is Jie-rui. His father gave him his name. It means 'quick-minded', and when you shorten his name to Jie, it means 'outstanding'."
"I-er, can practically hear the Sorting Hat yelling, 'Ravenclaw!'"
Harry saw Ron rolling his eyes at the inanity of what he'd said.
Cho didn't seem to think it was very clever, either. She began to cry again with a pitiful wail.
"Ch-Cho!" Harry gasped, hesitantly draping an arm over her shoulders. "H-Hey, don't cry. What's the matter? Go on, you can tell us, right, Ron?"
"Yeah." It didn't sound very encouraging, the way Ron said it, but thankfully, Cho didn't seem to notice.
Harry glared at him for it but said nothing.
Cho cried for a quite a bit before she looked up again. Her eyes were suddenly blazing with anger, and the target of it was suddenly clear in the next few seconds. She swung and her palm connected with Harry's cheek just before she pulled away from his embrace. "You git!" She kept swinging, hitting his shoulder repeatedly at each word. "You good for nothing git! You lied, you bloody bastard! MEN! GRR!"
"O-Ouch! Ow! Cho, what the hell!"
Ron, for his part, seemed a lot more interested now. He was however, staring slack-jawed at the scene; that is, until Cho took up a pillow and threw it right at Ron's face.
"O-Oy!" Ron cried, getting a mouth-full of tassel.
Harry grappled with her to hold her by the arms, trying to be careful not to hurt her. She was pregnant, and she simply shouldn't be this upset. She had, however, picked up a vase and looked about ready to hurl it at him, or at Ron. No sense in finding out whose name was on the ammo.
"Ron, take the vase!" Harry cried.
"Lemme go!" Cho cried, struggling. "You're all the same, the lot of you!"
Ron scrambled to pry the vase from her grip and he mostly succeeded, but she kicked and caught Ron right where it hurt the most.
Ron dropped for the count and the vase rolled a safe distance away.
Harry gasped. "Shite! Ron! Mate, are you al-"
"No, you blithering idiot!" Ron rasped from the ground.
The baby started to cry.
Harry sighed as he grunted to keep Cho from swinging. "Jun's-"
"Jie!" Cho hissed. "I swear, you are so thoughtless! You lied to me, you great big git! You told me Hermione was dead! And now I hear she's been a vampire all this time and-were you seeing her while we were dating?"
"W-What? No! I never cheated on you!"
"Good for nothing, the lot of you! See this moron over here? He couldn't see a good thing if it hit him in the face!"
"I don't think it's his face he's worried about now."
"Don't get smart with me Harry Potter!"
"I'm not-Cho, for feck's sake, calm down! You can't be this upset in your condition!"
"You stupid-and you never called me back after I left you in the café, Harry Potter! You-"
"Blimey, that happened two years ago, Cho! Shouldn't you have-I don't know, brought this up then? Besides, I could've sworn your dumping of that hot tea on my lap meant you didn't want to have anything to do with me from thereon…"
"L-Lemme go!"
"Not until you calm down!"
She growled, swung her foot again and grazed Ron's ear rather viciously.
"OW! MERLIN DAMN IT, HARRY! Control you woman for feck's sake!"
"Stop calling them my women!"
"Oh, so there's lots of us, are there?" shrieked Cho.
Harry sighed with great exasperation. "That's not-Cho, please!"
"What the hell is going on here?"
The deadly voice cut through the chaos and all three of them looked up to find Hermione standing at the drawing room threshold, Solomon and Lucien watching the scene with shocked fascination, and Draco obviously stifling a grin.
Cho was the first to recover, glaring at Hermione malevolently. "You!"
Hermione's eyebrow arched in mild surprise, just before her gaze roved to the dark-haired baby and Harry's arms around Cho, stopping just where Cho's stomach protruded with obvious pregnancy.
Harry's mouth dropped and the words, "I can explain!" was drowned by Cho's fury.
"It's always you, isn't it?" Cho cried, tears brimming in her eyes. "You bitch!" She managed to wrench herself away from Harry, but she didn't attack anyone. She simply dropped back to the couch and wept.
"Bloody hell," Ron whispered from the floor, sounding relieved that they had at least gotten through the first leg of the storm, because Harry was quite sure they were up for a second one.
"Erm, cute baby!" Lucien squeaked. "What do you, um, call it, Harry?"
"First of all," Harry said hastily. "He's not an 'it'. Second of all, why are you asking me?"
"You know his name!" Cho moaned.
Harry bit back the urge to yell, "Shut up!" It was all so very wrong.
Hermione looked to Draco, hatred glinting in her gaze. "Well, Malfoy, obviously you were right. Harry is in trouble. It's just most unfortunate that this is a problem I couldn't help him fix. Harry, we'll be in the dungeons if you need us." She left, Solomon and Lucien following after her as they shot Harry indignant glares.
Harry's eyes widened. "Her-"
Draco grinned. "That was for all the abuses I suffered from the lot of you in the last-"
"Malfoy!" Harry growled, whipping out his wand. A beam shot out of its tip and caught Draco right in the face.
The transformation was instantaneous. Draco, the ferret, squeaked with rage, heading straight for Ron with fangs bared.
"Imobulus! Imobulus!" Ron screamed as he waved his wand.
Draco froze in mid-air, twirling idly as he blinked and made squeaking sounds.
"My God!" Harry yelled. "Did you all conspire to ruin my life? Where are Tonks and Remus? They started this! God help me, I have the deepest affection for them both, but right now, they are not on my favorite people list!"
Fawkes flew into the drawing room, alighted on his newly-installed phoenix perch and promptly incinerated himself to ashes.
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Harry wanted nothing more than to go to Hermione and explain to her everything that's happened, but Cho was miserable, Draco was a ferret and Ron was not going to be left alone with either.
He thought it best to settle it one at a time.
After dumping the rodent in the Mrs. Black "viewing" room and locking it in, Harry attended to Cho, who tearfully told him exactly what had brought her to Grimmauld Place.
She had started dating one Gilbert Fevers, Muggle, shortly after she and Harry broke up. Gilbert fathered Jie, but Cho had refused his offer of marriage, saying that she didn't want him feeling trapped in their relationship just because they had accidentally conceived. It was all fine and well until she gave birth, after which things seemed to have gone downhill. In a most unfortunate (and perhaps irresponsible) twist, she became pregnant again barely a month after Jie was born, still with Gilbert.
When Tonks and Remus caught Cho at the Leaky Cauldron, it was because she had taken herself and her baby out of their shared flat in Hong Kong. She had, apparently, answered his forgotten mobile phone and had, consequently, gotten told off by his other girlfriend. Being that her parents were out of town for the next couple of days, she had to take a room at an inn, thus her current plight.
Tonks, in her usual accommodating and tactless way, spilled the beans about Hermione somehow and Cho found that she needed to lash out at someone, preferably a man, and perhaps most appropriately the ex who had (she felt) led her into the arms of the man who would knock her up and cheat on her with another woman.
Harry felt so horrible for Cho that he very kindly offered to let her stay at Grimmauld Place until her parents could come over and pick her up the day after next.
She sniffled and gave him a grateful smile. "Really, Harry? You mean it? That's so kind of you…"
Ron had, at that moment, looked about ready to explode. "Excuse us, Cho. Give us one minute." He then took Harry by the arm and dragged him out of the drawing room. After he closed the doors, he turned to Harry and began to whisper fiercely, "Are you mad?"
Harry frowned. "What are you on about? She needs help! And it's only for a couple of days! Are you going to tell me you can coldly turn away a pregnant mother in need?"
Ron scowled then sighed. "Oh, fuck me. Alright! But I'm telling you… Cho and Hermione in the same house… you're playing with fire, Potter!"
"Oh, shut it, Ron. You know damn well that I have no more feelings for Cho! I just… I just have to explain that to Hermione, is all…"
"Ho, boy."
"Look, I… why don't you go and talk to Hermione for a while. See if she'll listen to you. I'll be down in twenty minutes after I get Cho settled into one of the rooms. Okay?"
Ron looked skeptical.
"Please?" Harry said.
Sighing, Ron nodded.
Harry thanked him and went back to dealing with Cho. He carried the baby things and magically pushed the baby carriage as he told her where to go. He settled her into a second floor bedroom and left her there to get comfortable, after which he flooed the Leaky Cauldron to send over Cho's luggage. Tom made no issue of the bill and neither did Harry, even knowing that Tom would probably send the bill to him.
With the Cho matter settled for the time being, Harry hurried to the dungeons where Ron met him a few caverns shy of Hermione's.
Solomon and Lucien were waiting with him and they seemed to have been briefed by Ron of the situation, as they didn't seem angry with him anymore.
"Hermione's in her coffin and she doesn't want to come out," Ron told him.
Harry groaned, resolving to push past them.
Solomon stopped him. "Maybe not, Harry."
"Well, could someone at least try to explain to her that I'm not the baby's father and that I haven't knocked up Cho?"
"I already tried that," Ron said. "She's not budging. Frankly, I think she's just asleep."
Harry shot Ron a look.
"She's not going to talk to you," Lucien said. "We've seen her in this mood. I don't think she's angry with you, Harry. In fact, she just said she was very tired and that she needed to get some shut-eye."
"But she's a vampire-"
"Hence the conclusion that she just needs to be left alone. She'll be okay. She already knows you haven't fathered anything."
"Anything?"
"Well, what else are you going to call the bleedin' critters?"
"How about children?"
"Whatever."
Harry sighed, feeling like the proverbial mortal being toyed-with by the Gods. "I suppose this isn't a good time to tell her that Cho's going to stay in Grimmauld Place in the next couple of days."
"Ho, boy," Solomon said.
Ron nodded. "My words, exactly."
"Harry's Harem," Lucien said. "I rather like the sound of that."
Harry scowled. "You're all bastards. She's got a child and she's pregnant. What is wrong with you people? What if it had been Hermione in her situation? Would you want her turned away? My heart breaks just imagining it!"
Solomon motioned to speak. "Well, Hermione can't have babies-"
"Nor will she let anyone knock her up if she can. Girl's too clever for that," Lucien added.
"That's not the point and it was a hypothetical question!" He sighed and turned to leave. "You know what? There is no point. This is, indeed, pointless. I think I'm just going to lock myself in the bathroom and drown myself."
"I tried that when I was human!" Lucien cried after him. "It's impossible. One just doesn't want to drown!"
The gods must have been playing with him, because it was the only way Harry could explain how he could have two ex-girlfriends (one of which was pregnant and the other undead), a ferret from hell, a suicidally-challenged vampire, and a werewolf whipped by his morphmagus-lupa all living in his grim old house.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The following day, Harry walked into his kitchen to the sound of a screaming baby and a mother who was trying to ignore the racket.
Cho was cooking, and since it was some time after noon, Harry had to guess it was a late lunch. It smelled quite good.
"Harry!" Cho said, smiling widely. Her mood from the previous night had certainly changed. "Have a seat! I've almost got lunch ready."
He resisted the urge to lift his eyebrow. "Erm… you do? Wow, Cho, you really didn't have-"
"I wanted to," she said in a more subdued tone. "I mean… I feel bad about-I lashed out at you last night, and I kicked poor Ron twice… I made Shepherd's pie for him. I promised him I would, this morning, and well… it's very kind of you to take me in until my parents get back in town…"
Harry sighed, transforming his surprised frown into a smile. She really was a very sweet woman. When she's not kicking Ron between the legs and throwing vases at us… "It's nothing, Cho. You know you're always welcome here."
He waved his wand and began to set the table. The baby shrieked and Harry peeked into the carriage of little Jie. "Won't his crying… I don't know, give him gas?"
Cho laughed, waving her wand at the miniature mobile hanging above the baby. The toy tinkled and turned with a soothing melody. Jie's cries dwindled to gurgles.
"Smart sprog," Harry muttered.
"At least!" She grinned and took the lamb chops from the pan, setting them on plates. She poured some sauce over the chops artfully and began to garnish the plates. "So… this thing with Hermione… you knew all this time that she was-you know."
"A vampire? Yeah. She did die, but she… well, she rose back up. We had to keep her secret, even after she exiled herself from the wizarding world."
Cho set the plates down on the table and unfolded the table napkin to put on her lap. "Exile? What did she do? Hide in Mexico?"
"Albania, actually."
She looked up, saw he was serious and winced. "Oh. So you really haven't been seeing her in the last five years?"
"I told you already, Cho. I never cheated on you, alright?"
She paused for a moment, looking ready to deny that she had been thinking along those lines before she sighed and nodded. "I suppose I believe you. It's just hard for me right now to think that not all men cheat." She sounded very depressed. "But for what it's worth, while we were dating, it was never my fear that you would cheat on me. Whether it was because I was horribly afraid that you would die on me to worry about anything else or because I actually thought you were that honorable, I'm not sure."
"That's-erm-nice to know, I think…"
She sighed, mustering a smile as she began to slice into her lamb chops. "Or maybe I just thought that with Hermione gone I had nothing to worry about."
"Now, do you really mean that?"
Cho nodded. "Yes. She was always around and she's so much a part of you. When she was your best friend, you listened to her first. Even when she was supposed to be dead, I contended with her ghost. And I suppose while she was your girlfriend, you dropped everything at a flick of her finger."
"Oy…"
"I'm just saying… it was always her. It would always be her. Natural order of things, I suppose, so when either of you resists it, nature seeks to restore the balance, or something like that."
He began to slice his lamb chops.
"I'm sorry I called her a bitch last night," Cho said all of a sudden.
Harry looked up and blinked, surprised.
"I didn't mean it," she continued. "Well… not so much, at least. It's not her fault you love her. Heck, she disappeared for five years. She didn't seem to want you to love her."
That really struck him. His brows knotted and he looked at Cho. "Right."
Cho reddened. "I-I didn't mean to say it that way. What I meant was… well, it didn't mean that she didn't love you, Harry. And knowing you, Ron and Hermione, she probably did it for you, anyway-disappearing, I mean."
Harry studied her a moment. "You think so? Is that what you automatically thought?"
She seemed surprised by his question. "Well, how else could anyone explain it? Everyone in Hogwarts saw how important the three of you were to each other, regardless of any romantic involvement the three of you had with other people or perhaps with each other. It makes no sense that either of you would do something for your individual interests, especially something as heartbreaking as leaving. It's a no-brainer, don't you think?"
Harry sniffed and gave his attention back to his lunch. "Yeah. I suppose you're right."
Jie giggled and waved his fists in the air, as if to say, "Of course she is!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry, having just come back from the Ministry, struggled with the last of the Hogwarts Express files and hauled them through the door of Grimmauld Place. This last batch would have to await examination, and as anxious as Harry was to read through them, their trip to Bulgaria was far too important to be put off.
There was little time to waste. Bulgaria was already two hours ahead and they didn't want to lose anymore dark than they already have.
He had already left half of the pile with Seamus and he could rest easy thinking that at least something was being done about it while he was busy with other things.
Hurriedly making his way through the house, he made line for his room.
He passed the kitchen but paused down the hall when, at the corner of his eye, he saw that Cho and Hermione were there, together.
His heart began to thud in his ears, and he didn't realize how awful the arrangement was of Hermione and Cho staying in the same house until he was faced with the reality of it, right there. He hung back behind the wall, doubling the masking of his presence as he carefully peeked into the kitchen.
Hermione was taking a box of chocolates from the chill box and Cho was standing at the corner of the counter, the baby carriage protectively behind her. Cho looked tense, probably a bit frightened, but she didn't have her wand out, which probably meant she wasn't that scared.
Harry, for one, wasn't afraid that Hermione would hurt them. She might not like Cho, but she wasn't a vicious murderer.
"I won't hurt you," Hermione said, slamming the chill box door shut.
Cho jumped slightly. "I-I didn't think you would."
Hermione nodded, plopping the chocolates on the table and seating herself. She opened the box and casually began to eat a truffle, offering none to Cho.
"Harry's not the father!" Cho squeaked.
Harry winced.
"Neither of these children are his," Cho continued, placing a hand on her bulging stomach.
Hermione just kept eating the chocolates and shrugged. "I know that. Why do you think you're still alive?"
Harry stifled a groan. Shame on you, Hermione, for frightening a pregnant woman.
Cho paled and Hermione chuckled.
"I'm just joking, Cho. I don't go around killing Harry's ex-girlfriends."
"O-Oh…" Cho said, laughing uneasily. "That's… good to know."
"Why don't you have a seat?" Hermione kicked a chair and it slid a bit in Cho's direction.
Cho looked like she'd rather not, but she did, just because Hermione was terribly intimidating.
Hermione gave the baby carriage a brief glance from her seat. "Cute baby. What's his name?"
"Jie-rui," replied Cho hastily, as if she was willing to answer all the questions for this interrogation so long as she survived it unscathed. "It means quick-witted."
"Jie-rui; Quick witted," Hermione repeated, trying it out. "Good name."
"Y-Yes… his father thought of it…"
"Well," said Hermione as she popped the truffle in her mouth. "He had to be good for something, right?"
At that, Cho gave a strained and painful smile. "I-I suppose so."
Jie began to cry.
"He needs to get changed," Hermione said instantly.
Cho hesitated before she scrambled back to the carriage, checked the child and looked up. "Well, you're absolutely right. How did you know?"
"I just do."
Cho began to bustle about with the baby things, her face flushed, probably from the effort of staying right where she was without bolting and running scared. "You've-er-taken care of babies before?"
"Long time ago… I haven't in a while."
Cho pulled the baby out and took a few minutes of silence to change him. When she was done, she put the baby back into the carriage. Jie laughed, utterly unaware of the strain his mother was in.
"I do actually love children," Hermione said.
Cho looked like she was going to pass out.
Hermione scowled. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Cho, don't be ridiculous! I didn't mean for dinner! I don't do that sort of thing."
"O-Oh! I didn't-I'm sorry, it's just-"
"Yes, I know. Never mind. Not your fault. I better go, anyway. I've a lot of things to do." With that, Hermione rose from her seat and headed for the exit on the other side of the kitchen. She passed the baby carriage along the way and she glanced into it briefly.
The split-second look Hermione gave little Jie broke Harry's heart. Hermione's eyes softened with affection, and she actually smiled, but she was careful. She didn't want Cho to see. Steeling her features, she shot Cho one last glare before stalking out of the kitchen.
When Hermione was gone, Cho let loose a breath as she slumped against the baby carriage in withering relief.
Feeling the slightest bit depressed, Harry left to get ready for their trip to Bulgaria.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bulgaria was going to be cold that time of year. They were headed for Srenda Gora, the central highlands, just outside Sophia. The wizard forecast spoke of snowdrifts, stiff winds and below-zero temperatures, so they needed to wrap up, but not before they got to the Leaky Cauldron, because while it was cold in London, it wasn't that cold.
Harry thought it best to keep the party small; limited to him, Ron, Hermione and her Shadow Kin. They would attract enough attention as a group and he didn't need people thinking they were up to something, enemy or friend.
As they converge in the hall, Harry and Ron hauled thick coats in bags while they clumped around in their thick and thermal hiking boots, brooms slung on their shoulders.
The vampires wore less bulky clothing. They didn't have to worry so much about cold weather.
Hermione threw a dark cloak over her snow-white winter outfit, which was regrettable. Harry could have stared at her figure-hugging ski outfit all night. "We ought to go."
Lucien and Solomon threw cloaks over themselves and instantly transformed into enigmas.
Tonks and Remus appeared with Cho to see them off. Draco, who had just gotten released from Mrs. Black and retransformed to his human self, was sulking something awful in his bedroom. There was still a slight, ferrety tilt to his nose that Harry said would wear off eventually. Harry didn't bother to give a guestimate of when.
Jie was very much awake, giggling and waving at all of them. His mother tried desperately to shush him.
"We'll be back as soon as we could," Harry said to Remus as he hefted his backpack and Firebolt. "If we're not back by tonight, don't expect us until early tomorrow night. If you need me for anything during the day, messenger spell me. Don't ever messenger spell me at night."
Everybody understood why.
"The Strigoi chamber and the potion will be ready when you get here," Remus said, clasping Harry's arm. "Harry, you know what will happen when we destroy that last one, don't you?"
Harry nodded. "I'll have to fight Voldemort and kill him."
Remus didn't look happy, but he patted Harry's shoulder. "Godspeed, my friend."
At that, they headed for the Leaky Cauldron.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They arrived in a small wizarding village at the foot of the Srenda Gora mountains.
Their appearance by portkey didn't really surprise that many people, as they were used to the occasional tourist come to enjoy quaint, little-town charms. It looked a bit like Hogsmeade, especially because of the snow, and because the streets were brightly lit.
"The Krum stronghold is two hours from here by horse-drawn carriage," Hermione said from their vantage point on a low hill. She pointed to the distance and Harry could see a flicker of light atop the mountain. "It's faster by broom, of course. A Firebolt would cut the travel time by more than half. Lucien, Solomon and I used to take high-powered snowmobiles up the slopes. I'm quite sure Viktor's storage shed at the edge of town still has the vehicles stored."
Harry still felt the distinct twitch whenever Hermione said Viktor's name, but he pushed back his jealousy and nodded. "Then lets get to the shed. We don't want to waste time."
They plodded through the snow a bit until they got to the streets of the village where most of the snow was cleared.
Ron lagged behind for a bit, pressing his face to a deli window as he stared at the colorful meats, cheeses and sausages. The pretty, dark-haired deli-girl, who was unwrapping a huge wheel of cheese, waved to him and giggled from behind the counter.
"Wow…" he breathed.
Harry rolled his eyes and dragged him by the back of his robes. "If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were looking at the pretty girl."
Ron blinked. "Pretty girl? Where?"
Solomon laughed.
Some of the townspeople waved at them warmly, just before turning to their companions and whispering.
Harry had to wonder whether they knew who he was. It wasn't conceit at all when he thought these things. It was, more than anything, paranoia. Even after all these years, he still wished he could turn invisible when people started to recognize who he was.
They passed a Quidditch store and pictures of Viktor Krum were plastered all over the window display. Most the items on display appeared to be autographed.
Well, of course it would be.
Further on, there were less and less people, until they reached a somewhat deserted area line up with what looked like warehouses. They stopped in front a rather plush structure, the paint over it fresh, the windows whole and the steel gates free of rust. It looked well maintained.
"Hope the locks hadn't been changed," said Lucien casually.
Hermione gave them a small, plaintive smile. She took out her wand, waved it at the locks before she sighed, rolled her eyes and said, "Tolko si debel che edinstvenite ti snimki sa satelitni," in what sounded like perfect Bulgarian.
The lock shimmered and clicked open.
Solomon and Lucien doubled over laughing.
"Well, that was brilliant, Hermione!" Ron said, grinning. "Was that a spell?"
"It was a password."
"Wicked. What did it mean?"
Hermione cocked a weary smile. "You're so fat that all your pictures have to be taken by a satellite."
Harry choked on a laugh.
"It was either that or 'Tvoiata mozuchna kletka se chuvstva samotna,' which means, 'Your brain cell is feeling lonely.' The first won the poll two to one, probably because it sounded meaner." She glared at Solomon and Lucien.
There was no doubt as to who voted for what.
They pulled the gates back and Hermione activated the lights with a Lumos. The shed was filled with all sorts of tools and thingamajigs with faded enchantments. At the center of the clutter, Lucien began yanking the canvas covering off three snowmobiles. Most of the dust was on the canvas and the vehicles still looked relatively shiny. They were black with gray and red stripes on the side. They looked sleek and sturdy enough to be serviceable.
Ron looked them over curiously but Harry actually crouched down to give the machine a closer look. He'd never really seen a snowmobile except on the telly and the occasional Muggle movie. He had always wondered how fast it could go. It was the speed junkie in him that made him so interested.
"Someone must be maintaining these," Hermione said, checking the meter readings. "It has gas, too. Sol, have you found the keys, yet?"
Solomon had opened a cupboard somewhere to the back of the shed and returned with three odd looking keys clinking in his hands. He distributed them and they slid the snowmobiles out of the shed. They closed the gates behind them and started their vehicles.
Harry watched Hermione curiously as she went through the process. She lifted a switch found somewhere at the top of the handlebars. She inserted her key and turned it. Nothing happened, but this didn't seem out of the ordinary, as she attached the key's chord somewhere near the steering mechanism. She clasped something on the side, braced herself and pulled. There was a slight sputter and she pulled again. This time, the engine roared to life.
Solomon and Lucien did the same thing with their machines and soon, they were all settled on their snowmobiles, feet secured in stirrups.
"Interesting things, those," Ron remarked as Hermione and her Shadow Kin put on helmets and lowered the visors over their faces.
Harry had to agree.
He and Ron mounted their brooms, spelling their faces impervious to the snow and wind. In the next few minutes, they were off, speeding up the mountain towards the castle of Viktor Krum.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry must have prayed for bumps in the snow so many times that by the time the castle came into view, he was about as devout a man as a non-religious man like him could be.
Flying behind Hermione had been a pleasure he hadn't expected in the least, because when the bumps came, Hermione lifted her perfect little arse to keep herself steady when the snowmobile jumped, went airborne, and landed back on the snow.
It was a wonder he hadn't flown into any trees, being so preoccupied with her delectable bum.
So when the perimeter gate came into view, Harry felt even more disappointed than he should have been, since getting to their destination that had promises of a warm fire thawing the chill in his bones.
Hermione rolled her snowmobile up to the guardhouse, idling the machine as she spoke. "Danail? Are you still there?"
For a moment, nothing happened, and Harry was already about to exchange quick looks with Ron, but something materialized through the stonework and a ghost, dressed in lush phantasmal furs and ornately set gold, peered at Hermione with a frightening grimace. An arrow was stuck through the back of his neck, its tip peeking out from where his Adam's apple was supposed to be.
Any Muggle would have been scared out of their wits.
"It's me, Danail."
Danail pulled back, eyebrows arching. "Ah, Lady Granger. The master will be pleased to see you."
"The master is in?"
"He is. Walk the path, Lady. Your mechanical beasts cannot cross these gates. Wizards may not apparate."
The gates yawned open and the torches along the path lit up with magical fire.
Harry could see that snow covered most of the front lawn, and that while the cobbled steps leading to the front doors were relatively cleared of snow, the walk was a long one.
The snowmobiles were pushed to the side of the guardhouse where there was yet another shed, just large enough to fit three vehicles. When the doors to the storage shed were sealed shut, they made their way through the perimeter gates.
As soon as they cleared the entrance, Danail disappeared back into the guardhouse.
They proceeded to head to the castle, and as they passed the torches, the lights went out behind them.
"Bloody hell, this place is huge," Ron said, finding that the castle was almost as massive looking as Hogwarts with stonewalls, parapets, towers and gargoyle carvings. Hogwarts was so much bigger on the inside, of course, but the Krum stronghold was still a rather imposing sight.
They reached the great doors after they climbed half a dozen steps. To the side of the door was a rope. Lucien pulled it and the dull thrum of a bell could be heard through the thick oak.
Moments later, a little ghost girl in rags and shoeless feet, wide-eyed with malnourishment and tangled hair, seeped through the wood and settled on the door step.
"Hello," said the little girl in a wispy voice. "Please state your name and business."
Hermione stepped back and Harry realized that she was letting him take the lead now. She had gotten them through the gates, now it was his job to get them an audience with Viktor Krum.
"Her name is Vasilka," Hermione whispered in his ear.
He nodded. "Vasilka, my name is Harry Potter. I came here to speak to your master, Viktor Krum, about a matter of grave importance. We have traveled far, from London. Tell him I am not alone, that I have brought Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Lucien d'Godenot and Solomon Hughes."
"Yes, sir," Vasilka said. She peeked shyly at Hermione and giggled. "Hello, Hermione."
"Hello, dear. Now go… give your lord Harry Potter's message."
Nodding, she melted back into the doors.
"What's with all the ghosts?" Harry asked.
Hermione shrugged. "I suppose all castles have them, the way most theaters do…"
The wait wasn't long. In a few minutes, the doors were pulled open by elves, and a butler in dress robes welcomed them in.
"My master welcomes you all and humbly requests a few minutes of your patience," said the butler to Harry with a respectful tilt of his head. "Shall I take your coats before I lead you to the drawing room?"
They relinquished their coats to him and Hermione looked even better without her bubble jacket.
Harry stifled a sigh. Why was he even putting himself through all this?
The butler led them to a large drawing room that was exquisitely decorated with a mixture of medieval and modern. It was a bit overwhelming, seeing as there were too many chairs set up. He simply didn't know where he should sit his arse.
He eventually decided he was going to examine the painting hanging over the humungous hearth while everyone else around him sat and waited. The portrait eyed him back, clearing its throat slightly as it sat dignified in what looked like an ornately carved chair. He was in luxuriant furs, his fingers decorated with heavy rings. He bore a beard and mustache. The nose and eyes had traces of Viktor Krum's features all over it.
The butler brought tea and Hermione thanked him, calling him Wenceslaus.
Harry felt a twitch again. That Hermione was so familiar with these people still made him feel wretched about the entire situation.
A bit later, the doors finally opened and revealed Viktor Krum.
Harry was a little surprised at how Viktor looked. He still looked stocky and prone to surliness, but he seemed better groomed, and he carried himself with more grace than he used to. He had his hair cut short and clean; his hard jaw was so closely shaven that it almost made him look younger and most interesting of all, he had a slight smile on his lips.
"Harry Potter," he said in his grave, unimposing tone. "This is a most interesting surprise." He extended his hand, and Harry took it a bit warily.
Viktor's English certainly sounded better. Maybe he had taken lessons, or perhaps Hermione had cured him of the worse of his accent.
Viktor extended his greetings to everyone else and Harry eyed him carefully when he greeted Hermione.
She gave Viktor a small smile as he took her hand, kissed it and smiled back. There was a brief moment of warmth as he squeezed her hand but he let her go easily. It wasn't nearly as bad as Harry expected it to be, until Viktor said her name and it sounded like, "Her-my-own."
Harry stifled a grumble. There was only one person who should be calling her that and it wasn't Viktor Krum.
Viktor sat himself on one of the sofa chairs near the fire and offered the seat nearest to it, to Harry.
"I feel this is not a social call," Viktor said as Wenceslaus poured his master some tea. "No one comes to this place for a holiday this time of year, I'm afraid."
Harry went straight to the point. "We've come here to find something."
Viktor's eyebrow arched. "Something?"
Harry nodded. "A staff. An old one. It's more of an artifact, really." He didn't want to be mentioning specifics. If Viktor had the staff and he didn't know it belonged to Gryffindor, maybe Viktor would have an easier time relinquishing it to them.
Viktor took a moment to stare at him, then at Hermione. Her expression remained impassive.
Viktor leaned back on his seat. "And do you know what this staff looks like? My family has kept a vast collection of artifacts, passed down from my ancestors."
Harry decided he was going to tell the truth. He racked his brain for the research he'd done in the past and remembered the more important details. "We're not sure what it looks like. None of us have seen it, but I might have seen pictures of it. It's made of wood. Holly. It looks more like a branch than a staff, and it has the face-not a head, a face-of a lion carved at the top."
Viktor smirked and nodded. "You are looking for Gryffindor's staff."
Harry's heart sank, wondering if he shouldn't have been too obvious with his descriptions.
"You are in luck, Harry Potter," Viktor continued, much to Harry's surprise. "I have it, and I am certainly going to give it to you."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gryffindor's staff was not, as Yasmin said, "hanging on the walls" of Viktor's castle. That would imply that Viktor wanted to show it off. The staff, in fact, had been placed in the very bowels of the Krum stronghold, within the thickest dungeon, where little to no one would find it. Several wards had been placed around it, in various forms of magic. It was surrounded by charms, magical items, circles and deterrents, all designed to keep people out and to keep something in.
As soon as Harry saw it, it became apparent why Viktor Krum wanted to get rid of it. The staff pulsed with power, pulsing luminescent lights of red and blue, and if the carcasses of the vermin surrounding it was any testament, it was really good at killing rats and cockroaches. But what shocked Harry was not that, it was what seemed to be going on inside the artifact. It oozed with darkness, yet Harry could detect strong traces of light, as if a war was being waged inside the staff; as if the piece of Voldemort's soul that was in it was trying to overcome the staff's natural identity as a bearer of light.
"Blimey," Ron gasped, moving back in repulsion. "You'd almost think Voldemort himself would jump out of it and kill us all."
Harry had to wonder if he was the only one could feel the warring entities; that he was the only one who knew that the staff wasn't going down without a fight.
"It came in a charmed case a few weeks ago," said Viktor. "Brought by owls. The message on the package said that it was dangerous to humans and creatures of light, that by all accounts, no mortal hand should touch it. We tried to move it with magic, but it… deflected all attempts. I had to enlist the help of vampires to put it here."
Harry frowned. "So vampires could…"
Viktor looked uncertain as he moved back. "They can, but not for long periods, and not the wizard ones. The vampires had to be muggle. I do not know why, but this appeared to be the situation. At any rate, the vampires who helped me install it here suffered extreme exhaustion handling it for only a short period of time. I wouldn't recommend that any of you hold it. It is the only reason why I have not disposed of the object, myself. I did not want anyone just stumbling into it and suffering its effects. The case it came in will certainly be very useful, but I would renew the charms on the case if I were you, just to make sure."
"That's some bad juju," Solomon said, cringing away. "Could barely stand to look at it."
Lucien shuddered but stepped cautiously towards it. "Never seen anything like it… a staff's like a wand, isn't it? But more archaic?"
Hermione nodded but stepped back, grimacing. "Y-Yes… ugh, I think I'm going to be sick. I-I can't stay here…"
"What makes it… like that?" Lucien asked.
Harry became acutely aware of the fact that Lucien, Solomon or Viktor knew nothing about horcruxes, even if the two vamps had heard Yasmin call it that.
Harry was also growing particularly concerned, not just because Hermione was looking worse than the others, but also because he wasn't feeling particularly repulsed by the object. He certainly knew that the object held something very bad, but he wasn't feeling any negative physical effects.
There was a humming sound, and it seemed to be coming from the staff. Harry's brows crinkled with worry as he stared at the horcrux intently.
A thrum, like the sound of a gigantic gong, resounded through the dungeon, and a wave of purple flame ringed outward, from the staff, towards all of them.
Before Harry could give a shout of warning, the light had waned and the sound dissipated.
Harry looked at his companions and saw that none of them acted like they had seen what he'd seen.
An odd localized warmth emanated from his scar and he rubbed at it lightly.
Ron saw him and looked at him worriedly. He'd been in enough instances when Harry's scar reacted when in close proximity to anything related to Voldemort. "Alright there, Harry?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Best we leave this place for now."
Nodding, Viktor led the way out of the chamber, placing the wards back up. Immediately, the staff's presence was muted, its malevolence contained.
They reached level ground in record time, all of them eager to leave the pressing aura of the staff behind them.
Harry looked at Hermione carefully as the bright light of candles and torches fell upon her face. He saw that she was looking rather flustered, but none the worse for wear. She would be alright.
Harry figured he had to think up a way to transport the staff without it killing anyone in the process. They might not be able to go back to Grimmauld Place as soon as he thought.
He would have to look the case over; examine it himself; see what he could do to strengthen its properties. He might have to contact Remus by floo, too.
"I don't think we're going to be able to go home, tonight," Harry told Ron in a low tone. "That thing's not going to go easy…"
Viktor heard him and told them he had rooms prepared for them. "Her-my-own, you and your Shadow Kin will be set up in the theater basement. Is that satisfactory?"
Hermione nodded wordlessly, still looking winded from their visit of the staff.
Harry didn't even ask Viktor how he happened to have spare coffins handy. He merely thanked their host. Harry asked if he could have a look at the case.
"I will send the case to you, later," Viktor said. "I-"
There was a clamor down the hallway and the sound of giggling children echoed. The children appeared at the corner; two blonde little ones, perhaps no older than three. One was in petticoats while the other looked like a miniature Bulgarian lord.
"Chicho!" cried the children, laughing wildly as they barreled into Viktor's legs.
Viktor laughed, speaking to them in Bulgarian as they clamored to hide behind him.
Two women, perhaps their nursemaids, soon followed, looking terribly winded and apologetic.
Harry cleared his throat. "Erm… yours?"
Viktor grinned and shook his head. "Ne. Niece and nephew. These are Stefanya and Gavril. Mine are too little to run about, just yet."
"Zdrasti, Stefanya, Gavril," said Hermione quite suddenly. "Priyatno mi e. Moeto ime e Hermione. Govorish li Angliyski?"
With mischievous eyes, they looked to their uncle and he nodded.
"Da!" they cried in unison.
"Cat!" said Stefanya.
"Dog!" Gavril said.
"Run!" they said together.
Harry had to wonder if they were twins.
They didn't look like it, even if they were both blonde.
"Very good!" Viktor said, handing them over to their nannies while he spoke more Bulgarian. He gave the children parting kisses, and as their nannies left with their precious bundles, the children waved to Hermione.
"Leka nosht, Her-my-own!" they called.
"Of course they talk like their uncle," Ron muttered beside Harry.
Harry had to grin at that.
"And are you going to show off yours, Viktor?" Hermione asked as she watched them go. "Or are Ani and Natasha jealous of their children?"
Viktor smiled quite happily. "Ani and Natasha like showing off the babies, actually. When we get the opportunity, da?"
It was a while later Harry realized that Hermione had been talking about the children's mothers, and that she had spoken of them without the slightest hint of bitterness or regret.
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A/N: So many ghosts, don't you think? ;)
I did not invent the Bulgarian Hermione spoke. Those are real Bulgarian words phonetically spelled. I got some help, of course. I couldn't speak the language to save my life. :P
Danail, as far as I know, is pronounced as "Dah-nile". With "nile" pronounced like "Nile River", but don't take my word for it.
Bulgarian translations for those with OCD:
Chicho! - Uncle!
Ne - No.
Da - Yes.
Zdrasti - Hi!
Priyatno mi e. Moeto ime e Hermione. Govorish li Angliyski? - Nice to meet you. My name is Hermione. Do you speak English?
Leka nosht, Her-my-own! - Good night, Hermione!
The words, "Potter, maybe it was about you for all the wrong reasons and not about you for the right ones," didn't really come from a movie. I made it up.
Next!