Chapter 8
Over the next several weeks, information did make it's way from the continent to the Ministry and then to Harry. Unfortunately, it wasn't all that informative. Gerhardt Falkstein was indeed a member of the German magical community. He was a respectable wizard of moderate means with no known connections to any activity, legitimate or otherwise, that would explain his need to come to Great Britain, let alone try to make contact with Harry, or anyone else at Hogwarts. So the mystery only deepened.
For the time being, Harry concentrated on the day to day routine of being a Hogwarts Professor along with the longer term issues of being the Deputy Head. The two overlapped when one evening he was sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table going over the list of potential first years for the next term. He sensed someone's approach and looked up just as a diminutive figure came to a halt in front of him.
"Yes, Miss Chao, is there something I can do for you?"
Kai looked into those striking green eyes and blinked and then said,
"Um, Sir, Professor Potter, I was wondering if you had a moment? I need to talk to you."
"Certainly, Miss Chao, that's why I'm here," he said, gesturing for her to take a seat across from him.
When she was settled he continued,
"Now, what's on your mind?"
"This is a question about Quidditch," she began, "I hope that's alright?"
"Of course, it happens to be one of my favorite things to talk about."
"Well, sir, it's just that people are starting to expect a lot from me because it seems that I have a talent for flying. And please don't misunderstand, I love flying on a broom and playing Quidditch but with my being so small, the other team always seems to want to try and rough me up. It's getting kind of scary out there," she said.
Harry nodded.
"Yes, Mrs. Potter was talking to me about that after the match she came up to watch. I understand Mr. Lupin had something to say about it as well."
Kai grimaced and nodded.
"Yes, sir. He suggested either I make sure the beaters watch my back or get you to teach me some tricky maneuvers. Vee told me later that he was really concerned about me but it was still kind of unsettling to hear."
Harry leaned forward as he rested his forearms on the table in front of him. He looked at the youngster across from him and took notice of the dark eyes and how they radiated her concern. He thought about Abagail for a moment. Whereas her eyes tended to pull you in, with this girl the tendency was to push outward, communicating whatever it was she was feeling.
"To be perfectly honest with you, Miss Chao, your fears are not unfounded. Quidditch can be a very physical game, both in terms of the amount of effort required as well as the likelihood of sustaining various injuries. If you are unprepared to deal with that, I'd have to suggest you stop playing. If, however, you want to continue to play, and from what I hear you'll likely end up on the house team, and soon, you'll need to work at toughening yourself up, both mentally and physically."
Harry began to explain some ideas he thought might help the girl. He especially emphasized the need to attend the Quidditch camp where she could receive some specialized instruction.
"And if I think you're up to it, I'll see what I can show you about evading unwanted attention. I tended to come up on the short end of it when it came to size."
"Does that mean you'll show me how to do the Potter bootleg?" she asked with some excitement. "Vee told me about that."
"Hmm, I'm not sure about that, Miss Chao. That move requires some very advanced flying skills and a certain mental ability. I won't say no, but we'll have to see about what you can handle."
"Yes, sir. I understand. I'd appreciate anything you could show me. I'd really like to take advantage of my ability, but not at the cost of repeated injuries," she said with a nervous smile.
"Wisdom, indeed, Miss Chao."
"Um, sir, do you mind if I ask you another question?"
"Please do," Harry replied.
"Why are you out here, Professor? You have an office, right? None of the other Professors sit out here."
Harry smiled and leaned back a bit.
"It's a hold over from when I was first here on sabbatical from my job at the Ministry. I didn't have an office then and there was all this room. It also made it easier for my students to come see me. Going to a Professor's office can be a bit intimidating, even if it is just to ask for some help. It got to be a habit."
"Oh, I see, well, thank you. And thank you for all the Quidditch advice."
"My pleasure, Miss Chao. Do you have a match coming up soon?"
"No, sir. The chaser I was filling in for is able to fly again, so I'll have a chance to try some of what you suggested in practice. That should help," she replied.
"Let me know how it goes. I'm sure Mrs. Potter will be interested as well."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
With that the girl got up and walked away as Harry went back to his paper work. Kai was deep in thought as she made her way back to the tower and her room. When she walked into the common room she saw Vee and Estelle sitting off to one side of the hearth.
"Hey, Kai, how'd the talk go?" Vee called out.
She smiled a bit as she approached her friends.
"Pretty well. He kind of backed up what Ted Lupin said, although not quite so bluntly. He gave me some ideas to try and he was very encouraging about Quidditch camp and his willingness to show me some things. I even asked him about the Potter bootleg and he didn't say no."
"You want him to try and teach you his most famous move?" Vee asked. "Wow, but just because he didn't say no, doesn't mean you'll be able to do it. From what my father has said, Uncle 'arry has a special talent that makes it work."
"I think he said that in a way, but it was nice of him to even consider it," she said with a grin. "I even asked him why he was out at that table the way he was."
"Don't spend too much time trying to figure him out, Kai," Vee said with a laugh. "There's so much going on under the surface, I doubt even he can keep up with it."
The following morning Victoire had a chance to discuss their favorite topic with Ted.
"Still nothing?" Ted asked.
"No, James' last message said the Ministry hadn't found out anything more. They know who the wizard was and where he was from but that's all. Nothing that would tell them why he wound up dead in the forest," Vee said.
"And we can't ask Abs anything because she'd likely tell Harry we were poking around. I don't suppose we know anyone else who's a psychic, do we?" Ted asked, half seriously.
"Well, there's Aunt Lavender, but I don't think she'd be willing to help."
"Probably not, but let's not count her out completely. I took some divination with Professor Firenze but I didn't get the idea the stars could be that specific. I guess we just wait," he said.
"Do we have time to wait?" Vee asked.
Ted shrugged and said,
"Who knows, since we don't know what we're facing."
By the greatest of coincidences or perhaps by magic, as Victoire and her roommates were heading back to the tower after lunch, she spotted Lavender being let in the front door by Stan Shunpike.
"Aunt Lavender!" she called out as she hurried forward.
"Hello there, love. How wonderful to see you," Lavender said as she opened her arms to receive a hug.
"What brings you here?"
"Oh, I've come to speak to Professor Firenze. A few things to discuss," Lavender said.
"Aunt Lavender, do you have a moment? I need to ask you a question," Vee said, deciding to take a chance.
"Certainly, dear. Let's just step down the hall a bit," the older witch said, her gait suggesting only a bit of the difficulty walking used to bring. "Now, what can I tell you?"
"Is it possible to tell specific things about someone, I mean in telling their future?"
"Oh, my, well it can happen, my dear, but only very rarely. And it also depends on what you mean by specific. Why do you ask?" Lavender inquired, looking very seriously at Vee.
Victoire looked a little uncomfortable.
"Um, well, it has to do with Uncle 'arry. We, I mean I, am very worried about him, with what happened at Christmas and I just thought if we could get a look at what might be coming, we, I could help him."
Lavender fixed her 'niece' with a stern glare that caused Vee to take a step back. But then it softened a bit as she reached forward and placed both hands on the younger witch's shoulders.
"Now listen to me, dear. Whatever may or may not be going on concerning Harry is not for you to involve yourself with. You have more than enough to worry about with your studies and the extra work you've taken on. Leave these things for Harry and his colleagues to deal with."
"But, Aunt Lavender..."
"But me no buts, my girl. The things your uncle gets himself tangled in are not for youngsters to meddle with. Let it lie."
Victoire seemed to shrink in on herself a bit and Lavender's expression softened further. She pulled the girl to her in another hug and said softly in her ear,
"You are a smart, brave, and above all else, very caring young lady. I know how much you love your uncle. So many do, in their own ways. But don't let that push you into doing something that you'll come to regret."
Lavender then pushed Vee back to arms length and with another fixed gaze said,
"You have classes this afternoon? Yes. Alright, then off you go."
Lavender watched as Victoire walked back towards her friends and then she continued on her way to Firenze's unique classroom. She knocked on the door and heard,
"Yes?"
"Lavender Brown, Professor."
The door swung open and the stern face of a Centaur regarded her. She looked up into that face and said,
"There are some things we need to discuss, Professor."
Firenze nodded and stood back to allow her entry.
"We have some complications," Lavender said over her shoulder.
"Yes, I have seen hints of such, Lavender Brown."
Anything else said was cut off as the door closed. One of those complications was getting a thorough dressing down by his mother as he stood in the appropriately named mud room. James stood there stoically enduring his mum's dissertation on his shortcomings as his thoroughly muddied clothing was peeled off and tossed in a basket.
"What in the world were you thinking, James? That meadow is a quagmire. No one knows how deep the mud goes. You could have been swallowed up," Ginny railed.
"Not a chance, Mum. I was wearing my mud shoes."
"Your what?"
"Mud shoes. They're like snow shoes, only you use 'em for mud. Made 'em myself," he said proudly.
"Oh, really. And where are these marvelous shoes?" she asked.
"Um, well, they kind of got stuck there near the end. I had to untie them. That's how this happened," he said, indicating the mud.
"And may I ask just what it was that you were doing walking around in the mud with your mud shoes?"
"I was looking for tracks of the gardeners. They've been out there every night taking care of the fallen trees. I figured they must have left at least a few tracks in the mud."
About this the boy was correct, at least as far as the nocturnal gardeners working was concerned. Since the second night after the 'Boxing Day Incident' fallen trees were disappearing from the woods around the meadow and neat stacks of cord word were appearing on the back side of the property. No one heard the sound of chopping or cutting but the trees were being turned into a significant amount of firewood. Some was even finding it's way to the Burrow and Shell Cottage. James was on fire with curiosity about just who was doing the work.
"Sweetheart, I realize you want to find out who, or what, is doing the work. We all do. But that field is still far too dangerous for you to be traipsing around out there, especially by yourself. Now promise me, no more exploring until we are sure the ground is dried out."
James let out a long sigh and said,
"Alright, Mum. Besides, whoever they are they must be flying. I haven't seen a single track."
"Thank you. Now, wrap yourself in this towel and go take a bath. A good one."
"Yes, Mum," James said, wrapping the towel around his waist like a sarong, although he would be the palest Polynesian ever seen.
As Dinkle, who had been patiently watching, picked up the basket full of mud caked garments. Ginny sighed to herself and said absently,
"Dinkle, whatever you do, don't have children."
The little elf watched her retreating back with those big liquid eyes, shook his head and then carried his load down to the laundry room to begin the overnight soak. As he piled the clothes in the water filled tub he considered the three Potter children to be something of a lark when compared to an entire house full of Hogwarts students. But it was not his place to say.
Another of the larks was sitting on his bed reading a book when his older brother, freshly scrubbed with still damp hair, walked into the room and flopped onto the bed.
"Still nothing?" Albus asked.
"Nothing. Not a sign of anyone or anything. It makes no sense, Al. Some of those trees were really big. But there's no sign of them being moved or dragged or cut. No sawdust or chips or even broken branches or twigs. And not a single track. How is that possible?"
"Don't know, James. I guess it must be magic," Albus said with a straight face.
James looked at his brother in exasperation, the kind only a boy of nine could manage and then said,
"Of course it's magic, you ninny, but what kind and by who? That's what I want to know."
"What about staying up all night and keeping watch out the window?" Albus asked.
"I tried that. Twice. And both times, Gran Lily showed up and told me to get to bed."
"Maybe you should have asked her to look."
"I tried that, too. She said some things were better left a mystery. How do you like that? Can you imagine if Da decided to leave things a mystery?" James said in disgust.
"He'd probably be in better shape," Albus said, looking at his brother over the top of his book.
"Maybe," James admitted. "Do you think he's ever going to get better?"
"Not the way Vee and Rose go on about auras and stuff," Albus said thoughtfully. "But if they just left him alone he'd have less aggravation."
James looked away from his brother, his expression a little guilty. When he first discovered the places where he could overhear what was being said, he had been so excited. Now it was a chore, an unpleasant task with serious implications. And he couldn't tell anyone outside their little conspiracy.
After a few more minutes with his brother, James rolled off the bed and went down the hall to his own room. He stood staring out the window into the fading winter light. The muddy field was still there and a few downed trees remained to be cleared. As he watched for what he knew he wouldn't see he felt a soft touch on his shoulder.
"Hi, Gran."
"Hello, dear. Still looking for the gardeners?" Lily asked.
"Not really," he said.
"What are you looking for, then?"
James turned away from the window and looked at the very substantial looking image of Lily Potter. One raised eyebrow indicated she was waiting for an answer.
"I guess I want someone to tell me I'm doing the right thing."
"What are you doing, dear?"
James looked around the room and then back at his grandmother.
"I'm spying on Da."
"Ah, that," she said, nodding and then gesturing for her grandson to sit on his bed while she 'sat' in the one chair in the room.
"What, you know?" he asked.
"Of course I do, dear. Just because you can't see me doesn't mean I'm not there. I imagine the big question is, why are you doing it?"
"Something bad is going on, Gran. A dead wizard in the forest, Da tearing up the meadow. But nobody knows what it all means. We can't help him if we don't know. So I've been listening when the Aurors come to talk to him," he concluded.
Lily nodded once more, her lips pursed. Then she smiled a bit.
"James, it's wonderful that you want to help your father. But you need to ask yourself just what do you think you or any of the others, can do. Yes, your father is dealing with some very serious issues right now, but do you think having one of the children hurt or worse will make it any easier on him?"
"No."
"The best thing you can do for him is not to give him any more trouble than he already has. Alright?"
"Yes, Gran," James said, a bit crestfallen.
As Lily stood and turned toward the door she said,
"And one other thing to consider, James. Whether you see me or not, I'll be watching, as always."
After his grandmother left the room, James flopped back on the bed, his arms outstretched. He stared at the ceiling wondering how he was going to tell Victoire and Ted that his cover had been blown.
As it turned out Victoire was having some issues of her own in that respect. The day after her encounter with Lavender she received a message that Harry wanted to talk with her and would she stop by his office after classes were done for the day. As hard as she tried she couldn't imagine any scenario where this was going to be a good thing. At the appointed hour she stood in front of his office door and then knocked.
"Enter," came Harry's voice from the other side.
She pushed the door open and stepped into the small office.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes, please close the door and sit down," Harry said.
When Victoire sat down, Harry looked at her across the desk and said,
"Since we have some privacy here we can drop the sir and professor. So, Miss Vee, just what is it you're up to?"
"What do you mean, Uncle 'arry."
"What I mean is why are you asking Lavender about peeking into my future?" he asked, his expression bland.
Victoire looked scandalized. Her eyes were wide and her expression reminded Harry of her mother more than a little.
"She told you that? Why would she do that?"
"Yes, she told me and why do you think? Look, Vee, if you have any plans of trying to involve yourself in whatever is going on, you better forget them. This is not something for first year, or fifth year, witches and wizards to stick their noses into."
"How can you say that, Uncle 'arry? You don't even know what's really going on. How can you know that there isn't something we could do to help? Look at all you managed to do right from your first year and then all that brilliant DA stuff," she said excitedly from the edge of her chair.
"Yes, and look at how many people died and how many of those of us living have memories we wish we could forget. Perhaps I need to rephrase this. You and Ted, and anyone else you've enlisted to help you, are expressly forbidden from taking any action, no matter how simple or well intentioned, that has any bearing on the situation currently under investigation."
"But, Uncle 'arry, why won't you let us help? What about all that business about family and sacrifices?" she pleaded.
Harry leaned forward with his elbows on the desk. He pointed a finger at his niece and in a tone of voice that told the girl she had pushed too far, he said,
"If you won't listen to your Uncle, perhaps you'll listen to the Deputy Headmaster. You will concern yourself with your studies and with your work with Madame Pomfrey. If I catch so much as a hint of you or Ted poking your noses where they don't belong, I'll send you both home. Am I making myself clear?"
A much deflated Victoire said,
"Yes, sir."
"Fine. You can go now."
Victoire slid off the chair and turned toward the door. Harry said,
"Vee, you know I'm doing this out of love, don't you?"
She paused as she reached for the door handle and said over her shoulder,
"Yes, Uncle 'arry, so am I."
When the door closed and Harry was alone he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He wondered if his actions as a student had caused the adults around him this much anxiety. Of course, some of them were counting on it. Their discussion also brought the question of what Lavender was doing here back to mind. He knew that she had visited Firenze several times each term over the last couple of years but she didn't offer any details.
He also knew better than to ask Firenze. Technically he was the Centaur's superior and he could insist on an explanation but he knew enough about Centaurs to know that would accomplish nothing of any value. And quite likely ruin their friendship. It was also apparent that whatever Vee and Ted were up to involved at least one individual from home. Vee's morning mail delivery was from a mix of owls. Usually it was a smaller one he recognized from his own owlry and on at least one occasion his own barn owl that dropped a rather large sheet.
So, conspiracies at home, and possibly abroad. And to think he left the Ministry in the hopes that life would be simpler. With that thought he opened his eyes and went back to the list of potential first years, ticking off another candidate for assistance. Meanwhile, Vee was having a low and very difficult discussion with Ted.
"What the bloody hell did you think you were doing? None of the adults are going to keep secrets from Harry. Not ours at any rate. If you felt you had to ask Lavender something you should have made it general."
"Don't you use that tone on me, Teddy. And mind your language. We have to find out what's going on and that means taking a few chances."
"Well, you can forget about finding anything out now. Harry will have everyone on their guard as far as the kids are concerned," Ted responded with obvious frustration.
"Please, Ted, don't be angry with me. We need to stick together if we're going to help Uncle 'arry."
"Are you daft, Vee? Harry threatened us both with expulsion if either of us steps out of line. I have five years invested and if you think I'm risking my shot at becoming an Auror by getting tossed out of here, think again. I suggest you walk the straight and narrow path until the end of term," Ted said as he turned to head for his room.
"You know, Teddy, where Harry was concerned I thought you'd be more concerned, and a bit braver."
With the last words, Ted spun on his heel and glared back at Victoire.
"Would you care to repeat that last bit?"
The last of Vee's resolve crumbled and tears began to well up. She took a few stumbling steps forward and took hold of Ted's arm.
"Please, Ted, I'm so frightened. I don't know what to do."
Then she put her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. Fortunately the common room was nearly empty this close to dinner but a few faces did turn in their direction. Ted assumed a knowing expression and said,
"First year nerves," while he patted her back.
When the others turned back to their own tasks, Ted pried Vee away from him and walked her to the furthest point in the room from any of the others. In a low voice he said,
"What are you going on about? Isn't all this a bit much for something we know next to nothing about? This isn't some girl's trick is it. Get all teary eyed to put me off?"
"Oh, Teddy, how could you think such a thing," she replied, the tears flowing more heavily.
"Then what is all this about?"
It took a couple of sniffles and the use of his handkerchief to get her settled down and then she said,
"Do you remember late last Spring when I was sick for those few days?"
"Yeah, your Mum was in a state because you had that high fever but it only lasted for less than a day. What about it?" he asked.
"When the fever was bad, I was asleep because they gave me something. I think that strange American lady made it. Anyway, I had a dream. A nightmare really," she said with a sniff. "It's kind of hard to remember it. It sort of jumps around but it was about Uncle 'arry. He was in a forest, then in a castle, or maybe it was underground somehow, but there was lots of fighting, spells all over the place. He might have even been the dragon for some of it. Then there was a huge explosion and the last thing I can recall is seeing Uncle 'arry, laying on the ground, his clothes all burnt and torn. It's so horrible just to remember it, Teddy," she said, holding on to him again, her slender frame shuddering.
Ted put his arms around her shoulders and tried to calm her down. He finally managed to push her down into a chair and he knelt by the side of it and said,
"Isn't it possible that it was just a fever dream and doesn't mean anything at all?"
"Yes, I though so at first, but with the things that have happened recently I'm thinking it's more than that."
"Alright, but if it is something really serious, just what do you think you can do about it?" Ted asked.
"You know that Uncle 'arry hasn't been all that well these last years. His strength changes as the year goes on. What if all this happens at a time when he's not his strongest? What chance does he have of surviving?"
Ted looked at Vee and saw the teary eyes and the quivering lip and thought whoever caught her fancy was in for a tough go of it. He'd never be able to say 'no'.
"Alright, look. If our fella's health is your biggest worry, fine. Keep up with your studies. Maybe that Mrs. Dubois or whatever her name is can teach you some things. Abagail might be able to help there. Maybe if there's something that she can whip up we can get the house elves to slip it in his food, I don't know. But whatever you do, don't go nosing around trying to find out what's going to happen. Leave it be for now. Alright? Who knows, maybe we'll come across something that'll help. Don't forget, it took Harry seven years to bring ol' Voldemort down. Try and be patient."
"Okay, Teddy. Maybe your right. And thank you," she said, managing to smile around the tears.
Then she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek and then hug him around the shoulders. As she held him tightly like that he thought to himself,
"Yeah, the poor bugger won't stand a chance."