Edgedancer of Madness

By: Enygma1920

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters you recognize. The ones you're familiar with are from the wonderful mind of J.K. Rowling. Any others are from my own overactive imagination.

Chapter 3: A Hard Day's Night

Tucked deep into the bowels of the Ministry of Magic, the stillness of the Auror locker room was shattered as a throng of dirty, tired Aurors stumbled in. Between the cursing, mud-covered persons, there was a bright beacon of red hair leading path towards a set of lockers. In stride next to him, was a head covered in messy, raven locks decorated with bits of twigs and dirt. The redhead winced as he sat down on the bench and began to rub his shoulders. "That was bloody awful," Ron muttered as Harry nodded in agreement.

The last three hours had been horrible, atrocious even. They and the other Auror's in their unit had spent another gruelling training session at the hands of Tonks and her self-made 'Gauntlet of Misery' - as the Aurors called it. In Harry's opinion, it had to be the most brutal yet efficient Auror training module around. The only one that even came close was the infamous 'Eliminator' run by an elusive, American Auror. Harry moved his hand gingerly in attempt to stop the painful, throbbing in his right shoulder.

"Are you all right?" Ron asked.

"Yeah." Harry removed his glasses and wiped the specks of mud from them. "Nothing that a nice, long shower can't cure."

Ron nodded glumly and slowly limped towards the showers; Harry followed suit, gathering his belongings and finding an available shower. The feel of the hot water rushing over his sore body soothed his tortured muscles. He knew that any other day that a Stinging Hex wouldn't have had a chance in hell of touching him, but his mind hadn't been focused on the tactical defense techniques he was supposed to be using. Instead, it had meandered off against his will. But when Harry felt the heat from the hex burn his shoulder, he knew he would be cornered and receive the inevitable talk from Kingsley or Tonks on his substandard performance that day.

Harry closed his eyes and let his mind wander to the phantom woman that haunted his everyday thoughts. Harry felt his stomach slightly recoil as the events of Friday night replayed in his head. He didn't know how to approach the situation or even if there was a situation with Ginny. The girl he remembered would've retaliated in some way by putting on a perfect display of the notorious Weasley temper; instead, the woman that had stood in front of him that night just leaned against her car and remained silent.

Harry honestly didn't know how to act or speak around her after so many years apart, and the mere thought of running into her and things becoming even more strained were enough to make him nauseated. I've got to do this he told himself. I can talk to, Ginny, right? She's the same girl I remember, right? I can do this, can't I He could feel his confidence slowly gaining strength under the mental accolades. You do realize that all this could've been avoided if you hadn't waited for five years his conscience pointed out. Harry groaned as the strong, fortified confidence he had built up over the years faltered slightly with the thought of actually having to talk to Ginny. Since his body was no longer feeling the soothing influence of the shower, Harry turned off the water and exited to the locker room.

As he reached his locker, he was surprised to see Ron sitting down and waiting for him. Usually after a hard session, Ron would be the first in line at the canteen, piling food on his tray. To see him sitting there, waiting, was a bit suspicious, in Harry's opinion.

"Looks like you've got a lot on your mind," Ron said.

"You have no idea," Harry muttered and pulled a shirt over his head.

"Having problems with your intern, eh?" Ron asked cheekily.

Harry shot a glare at his friend. "No, she's fine."

Ron's steely eyes studied him quietly before speaking, "Good, Harry. I was wondering, could this sudden spell of inattentiveness be linked to a certain sibling of mine that you've had the pleasure of recently working with?" he grinned.

"If you're speaking of Fred or George, then no." Harry noticed that Ron seemed to be getting too much amusement out of this conversation.

Ron drummed his fingers against the locker. "I noticed you didn't come over for dinner yesterday. Mum was worried about you. I told her you were a bit under the weather and decided to stay home."

Harry glanced over and saw Ron smirking at him. "You missing dinner had nothing to do with Ginny, did it?" he asked.

"No," Harry lied. "I guess I just forgot," He knew it was a bad lie; he always made it a point to be at the Burrow every Sunday for dinner, regardless.

"Uh-huh, right. Harry, is there a reason you're avoiding Ginny?"

"No, and why are you interrogating me?" Harry was growing increasingly irritated with Ron's odd queries.

"Well to tell you the truth, mate, your intern has a big mouth. I overheard her telling another witch about Friday night."

Harry stopped lacing his boots; he was dumbstruck. He attempted to say something, anything, but could only manage to open and close his mouth several times until Ron finally spoke, putting a stop to Harry's futile attempts to speak, "Listen, I don't believe that cock and bull story she was telling but, if any part of it is true, you might want to talk to Ginny."

Harry was curious as to what exactly Adriana had told people. He didn't think the encounter was worthy of Ministry gossip, but then again, when had anything involving him not been fuel for gossip. "Did she mention it to you on Sunday?" Harry asked.

"No, Ginny didn't talk much yesterday."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she was tense about something but wouldn't talk about it. During dinner, she would sit and listen to the conversations around her, but she hardly spoke. Of course, this isn't odd behaviour for anyone else, you know, but we are talking about Ginny, who never shuts up, especially at meals, unless you count your first visit at the Burrow. But still, it's pretty odd," he reflected.

"Fred and George pulled out all the stops at dinner - trying to make her laugh - but nothing worked. They mentioned to me afterward that even her eyes didn't have that mischievous glint to them anymore. Do you know that they turned Percy into a canary twice and all they got out of her was a half-arsed giggle?"

Harry peered at Ron. Harry had noticed the difference in her eyes while in the lab. The vibrant, amber radiance that could make his knees weak had long since been extinguished for him. "Maybe she has a lot on her mind, Ron. She has just moved back. Maybe she needs time to adjust."

Ron shook his head. "I don't think so, Harry. This weird behaviour has been going on for years." He turned and faced Harry directly. "It began two years ago when Ginny stopped coming home for the holidays. Mum would invite her, but she would give work as an excuse. Even Percy would leave work for Christmas. Last Christmas, she only sent an Owl."

Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for Ginny's increased absence at the Burrow over the years. He always blamed it on the way that things had ended between them, and the fact he was her brother's best mate didn't help, either. It was easier for her to stay away from everyone altogether than to try to avoid just him. When Ginny first arrived back in England, he had expected a detached attitude towards him, but it didn't occur to him her family would be on the receiving end of it, as well.

"I have a feeling Hermione knows more than we think," Ron rubbed his chin, "and I can't figure out what's it's about. I have my theories, though."

Harry groaned and slumped against the lockers. "Theories? Not this again, Ron." Harry knew it had been a mistake to give Ron the book: Conspiracies, Cults and Cover-ups for his birthday last year. Ever since then, Ron was a self-proclaimed, professional conspiracy theorist. Ron spent weeks proclaiming outrageous theories to anyone within earshot. Time and again, Harry would find Ron with his nose firmly buried in the newest conspiracy book, instead of working on the idle stack of reports on his desk. Initially, Hermione was pleased to see Ron take up the hobby of reading, especially since this was one of her own favourite hobbies. Unfortunately, the bliss was short-lived after an explosive row about Ron's current theory on the reasoning for the protection, or 'enslavement' as Hermione put it, of house elves because of the feeding tendencies of the crumple-horned snorkack.

Needless to say, after a threat of hexes and curses from Hermione, Ron was more tentative about sharing his theories around her; however, that didn't stop him from sharing them with Harry. Ron ignored Harry's remark and appeared to be gearing up to divulge his newest theory about Ginny, but thankfully the locker room door opened and a thatch of pink hair popped in.

"Wotcher, Harry."

"Hey, Tonks."

Tonks entered the empty locker room and stood in front of them. "I was wondering what was keeping you two. Are you both okay?" The Auror eyed them carefully.

"Of course."

"Never better."

"Good." Tonks turned on her heels, and began to walk towards the exit. She stopped. "Oh, and Harry," she looked over her shoulder at both of them, "stop by my office sometime before you leave today."

Harry resisted the urge to groan, "Right." Tonks smiled and left the locker room. Harry closed his eyes, and gently banged his head against the locker.

"Come on, mate." Ron pulled his friend to his feet toward the exit. "We've missed lunch already and I'm starving." Harry reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged towards the exit. As he ascended the stairs behind Ron, Harry couldn't shake the feel that this was just the start of a long day.

Both men managed to scavenge something from the canteen for a quick lunch and were on their way back to the office they shared. Harry inspected the chip butty in his hand; it was not exactly what he had in mind for lunch, but it would have to do. A painful elbow jab broke through Harry thoughts. "Ow! Damn it, Ron!" He rubbed the sore spot. "What was that for?"

"Who is that Hermione's talking to?" Ron pointed.

Harry's eyes roamed over to where Ron's had gestured. He had never seen the woman around the Ministry before. She stood a little taller than Hermione, with a tan complexion. They were huddled in conversation, oblivious to everyone around them.

"And it looks like she's wearing Muggle clothing," Ron noted. "That's a little odd for the Ministry, don't you think?"

Harry watched as both women threw back their heads in laughter. The mystery woman ruffled her short brown hair roughly, which caused Hermione to laugh harder. "Maybe she's one of those consultants Hermione works with from one of the other Ministries," Harry offered.

"Yeah, you're probably right." Ron folded his arms and then leaned against the wall. "It's just that something seems oddly familiar about her."

Harry looked back over at the duo; he couldn't differentiate her face from any of the other Ministry witches he was familiar with. "If you say so, mate." Harry patted his friend's shoulder. "Come on; let's get back to the office so we can get some work done before my meeting." Ron reluctantly left his stance and both men set off down the hall towards the lift.

"Yeah, you should attempt to close some of those files on your desk and get them to Tonks. No need to add more petrol to the fire, because Tonks is going to flambé your arse for this morning's performance," Ron laughed.

Harry shoved his hands deep into his pockets and muttered a string of curses. This did indeed look like the beginning of not only a long day but also an arduous week.

Ginny sat behind her desk, absently humming to herself as she thumbed through an old case file for the millionth time that afternoon. She had been at it since seven that morning, searching for that ever-elusive clue which could trigger a chain reaction of conclusions and change the entire investigation. After she drew up empty once again, Ginny threw the file down in disgust and closed her eyes with the hope that the headache that she was developing wouldn't get any worse. She winced in pain from the intense, rhythmic throbs pounding at her temples. She tightly fisted the quill in her hand, which caused it to snap in two.

"Damn cheap quills," she muttered, as she studied the splinters. "I don't know how in the hell I used to use these things," she said as she chucked the quill aside and then reached down for a Muggle pen. The office door slowly creaked open; out of habit, she reached for her wand, but stopped when she recognized the presence. Ginny ducked her head and listened to the sharp footsteps approach her desk.

"What if I were to tell you I left three days ago and no one seems to know where I've gone? Really, I'm on my way home."

A smile sneaked across Ginny's face. "I would respond; it might not be such a bad idea if you never went home again." She eagerly glanced up, ready to be greeted with, Wait - what happened to her eye She wondered. The guest fidgeted under Ginny's bewildered stare and hastily sat down in a chair.

"How are things, Pyro?"

Ginny snapped out of her trance and rolled her eyes. "You will never let me live that down will you, Zeddie?"

"Don't intend to," she replied, with a grin. "And don't call me that."

"How are you, Phoenix?" She looked at her friend with some trepidation.

"I'm okay, how about you?" Phoenix asked.

"Good." Ginny focused on the appearance of the woman in front of her. "I see you clean up nicely," she cracked, with the change of subject.

Phoenix looked down at her simple business attire. "Ah, yes so fresh and so clean-clean," she laughed. "But, considering this is the Ministry of Magic, I can't traipse in here looking like I just finished a field mission."

"By the way, how did you know where my office was?"

Phoenix laughed again, "Did you forget who you're talking to?"

Ginny rolled her eyes sardonically. "How long are you here for?"

"Just a few hours; we're en route to an assignment." She gazed around the office. "Nice accommodations, by the way."

Ginny frowned. "It's not like my old office... this one is too..."

"Stuffy?"

"Exactly," she giggled. "And who exactly are we?"

"Just Rapture and me. There have been reports of suspicious activity involving the trafficking of illegal potion ingredients," Phoenix answered. "The usual."

"Hmmm, that sounds like fun."

"Oh, yeah, tons of fun, can't wait," Phoenix replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "How goes the Godric Investigation?"

Ginny picked up the thick folder and handed it to her. "See for yourself."

Phoenix opened it and began to read, her eyes widened, "This is... What's your opinion on it?"

"I think there is a possible relationship between this investigation and the Leviathan Case."

"Shit," Phoenix whispered. She sat the file back down on Ginny's desk and then let out a low whistle and met Ginny's eyes. "That's pretty damn significant, have you told-"

"Yes," she answered, cutting off her friend. Ginny knew exactly what thoughts were running through Phoenix's mind; they were the same thoughts that had haunted her for the past few days.

Phoenix leaned back in her chair. "I need a drink," she muttered.

Ginny smiled empathetically and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of Captain Ogden's Rum she had stashed in her desk drawer. She filled both glasses generously and pushed one over in front of the other witch.

Phoenix snatched the glass, then proceeded to drain it in one go. "Which Aurors were working the case before you?"

Ginny finished off her own glass and then refilled them both. "My brother and Potter were, but now it's just Potter's case."

Phoenix paused mid-sip; she removed the glass from her lips, setting it down gingerly. "Potter? You don't mean Harry Potter, do you?"

Ginny threw a quizzical glance at the witch. "Phoenix, how many Aurors do you know with the surname Potter?"

"Actually, smart-arse, for your information, there is an American Auror named Steven Potter." She winked. "But how is that going? Working with the famous Harry Potter?"

"It's fine," Ginny automatically answered.

Phoenix threw back her head and cackled. "Are you playing nice, at least?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Yes, I am a professional, Phoenix."

"Cut the bullshit. Since when did you get all professional? You're sure as hell aren't with the rest of us. So why start now?" she laughed.

"Oh, just shut it, Phoenix," Ginny groaned in exasperation and flopped into her chair and then glared crossly at the other woman.

"Well, besides being civil to the boy, have you talked to him at least?" Phoenix asked.

"As a matter of fact, last week we had a civilized conversation." Ginny crossed her arms triumphantly.

"You do realize, Ginny, that a real conversation isn't one held in an examining room discussing the case," Phoenix leered.

Ginny's thin eyebrows arched. How in the hell did she know "Guess you know me too well, eh? So no, I haven't had a real conversation with him."

"You know you're going to have to, eventually, especially with this new evidence you've discovered. You are working with him."

Ginny was aware that she would have to speak to Harry, eventually; she just wasn't sure that she was ready yet. "Yes, I know."

"Promise me one thing, Gin."

"Sure."

Phoenix leaned back in her chair and studied Ginny closely before speaking. "Well, it's just... don't allow your issues with Potter to sidetrack you during this investigation."

What the hell did she mean by that Ginny speculated. As far as she was concerned, any 'issues' with Harry were a dead subject. "Regardless of whatever issues you believe I have with Potter, be assured that I won't let it affect the case," she replied disparagingly.

Phoenix nodded her head slowly as she removed her glasses and began to clean them.

She does seem to have a point she finally admitted; she would never allow anything, especially the past, threaten the integrity of this case or any case for that matter. Even if it was the complicated, emotional, almost trivial past she shared with Harry. Ginny had to keep a level of professionalism at all times; the last thing she needed would be for old emotions to cloud her judgment. Ginny's gaze slowly wandered over to the hunched figure of Phoenix, who was carefully cleaning her glasses when she remembered what had distracted her about Phoenix's appearance in the first place. "Phoenix, what happened to your eye?"

Phoenix fumbled her glasses before she returned them to their perch on her angular nose. "Oh, is it that noticeable?"

"Well considering you have one brown eye and the other is half brown and half blue, I'd say 'yes'."

"We'll it's been gradually changing since I was released from the hospital last year." Phoenix shifted in her seat. "It started off as a small blemish and spread from there. I didn't really notice it until last week, probably because I didn't want to," she muttered; her eyes shifted downward and away from Ginny's. "So Pyro, what do you do for fun around here?"

Ginny recognized Phoenix's topic evading tactics and knew better than to probe the subject any further. "Well, I come in early sometimes to train with the other Aurors, and then I sit behind this desk for hours, comparing cases. Then I spend my evenings in the lab performing diagnostic spells on evidence. After a few disappointing hours of that, I drive home to an empty house and collapse into my empty bed, only to wake up and start the vicious cycle all over again the next day." She smiled sarcastically. "You, of all people, should know we have no time for fun in our occupation."

Phoenix's eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you doing it, again?"

"Doing what?"

"Becoming absorbed in your work, that's what." Phoenix crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "You're spending all your time among these files and not going home. You've picked up exactly where you left off from in D.C." She cocked her head to the side. "I know you refused to celebrate your birthday last week. Care to explain that?"

Ginny felt her anger simmering. "So, been talking to Hermione, have you? What else has your little informant told you?" she asked scathingly.

"Hermione, my informant? Ha! Hermione simply mentioned it in conversation, earlier, and is only looking out for your best interests. She is right to worry about you; we both are."

"How many times do I have to tell you all that I'm fine!" Ginny cried and slammed her fist on the desk. She was growing tired of the endless prodding about her wellbeing. Can't they just leave me alone "Tell me, Phoenix, why is my wellbeing any concern of yours?" Ginny knew immediately after statement left her mouth that she had struck a nerve with Phoenix.

Phoenix's steely glare made Ginny shiver; Phoenix's wrath hadn't been personally directed at her in years.

"First of all,don't catch a damn attitude with me," she hissed, leaning forward in a menacing manner. "Second of all, the only reason we're concerned is because we are your friends, Ginny." Phoenix gestured her hand towards the haphazardly stacked files on the desk. "If you surfaced from your work once in a while, you would know this!" she snapped.

Ginny leaned forward, matching Phoenix's battle stance. "You, of all people, should know how important this case is for me!" Ginny retorted. "I have to make sacrifices for this investigation!" Again, she slammed her fist on the desk, which caused the stack of files to shift and tumble to the floor.

The fierce gleam in Phoenix's eyes sobered. "I know that, Ginny, I just don't want you to forget to live." She threw herself into the chair and ran both hands through her short brown hair. "Listen, I'm sorry I snapped at you. It's just the missions are leaving me fatigued, and then this shit starts up again..." she trailed off.

Ginny's anger retreated. "I know, Phoenix, and I'm sorry, too. I'm just-"

"Overworked… stressed too much?"

"Of course, all the time." Ginny smiled wistfully. Phoenix broke the tension when she started cackling in her distinctive laugh.

"I guess we're both a little tense," Ginny laughed and patted Phoenix's hand, "That's why we make a good team. Who else would allow me to blow off some steam and not take it personally?"

"Keep telling yourself that, Pyro," Phoenix chuckled. "The only reason I don't take offence is because, half the time, I provoked it and you know as well as I do that no one of sound mind will stay around for one of i your /i tirades."

Ginny's red eyebrows arched. "Oh, really? If I remember correctly, your tirades easily surpass my own; why, I remember the time-"

Phoenix threw up a hand. "Please, let's not go there today, Gin."

Ginny snickered at Phoenix's evasion of her own past.

"Hey, I have an idea; if this mission goes well, I should be back in the area sometime next week." A sly grin crept across Phoenix's lips. "Let's go and release some steam, like old times,"

"It has been a while since we had one of our outings." Ginny smiled; there was no telling what an evening could hold when it involved them. The idea of experiencing a night of debauchery like old times was very tempting. Ginny hastily wrote a note, which left the office through the open door hatch. "Hermione," she had said.

Phoenix grinned. "And if I know Hermione, she needs a night out just as much as you do."

"Besides that, she would hex us if we didn't include her."

"I have a good idea of where we could go. We have connections, of course." Phoenix grinned deviously.

"Of course," Ginny giggled.

"You could invite your brothers and friends too; the more the merrier. Do you think they are up for it?"

"Maybe," Ginny shrugged. "I know they couldn't handle how we use to be, Fred and George maybe, but not Ron. They still all view me as 'Ickle Ginniekins'." She rolled her eyes.

"Ickle Ginniekins?" Phoenix broke into a loud fit of cackles. "Oh, that's classic." She wiped away the stream of tears rolling down her laughing face.

Ginny giggled at her hysterical friend. "So, what have you got planned for tonight? What are you doing before you leave?" she asked.

Phoenix's laughter slowed down enough for her to talk. "Nothing… I hadn't planned on anything. Rapture is at the Citadel and I assumed I'd go back there to kill time, before we move out. Why?"

Perfect Ginny clapped her hands together. "I know a good way to kill time and soothe your nerves." A huge grin spread across her lips.

"What? And why do you look like the cat that caught the canary?" Phoenix commented.

"You can cook me, I mean us dinner."

"What do you mean by 'cook'?" Phoenix asked warily.

"Well, I haven't had anything besides my mum's cooking since I arrived," Ginny hinted.

"And what exactly are you asking me to cook, Pyro?"

"Oh, just some chicken and sausage jambalaya, fried catfish, okra, and tomatoes, maybe some black eyed peas, sweet potatoes, a few oyster shooters, and maybe some praline bread pudding. Oh, and a pan of cornbread… but that's all," Ginny rambled as she smiled sweetly.

The multi-hued eyes of Phoenix widened at Ginny's request. "That's all?" Phoenix repeated. "Gin, that's enough food for at least eight people!" She crossed her arms smugly. "Besides even if I do cook this feast, where will I get the ingredients? I highly doubt the grocers around here keep what I need in stock."

Ginny waved her hand to dismiss Phoenix. "That's the least of your concerns. I'll take care of it. So, when is dinner?"

"Damn it," she playfully huffed.

Ginny grinned. Even though she knew her friend would complain, cooking always helped ease Phoenix's nerves before missions. "Well, I guess since it is agreed that I'm cooking tonight," Phoenix rose and walked towards the door, resting her hand on the knob, "I should actually attend to the business I have here. Can I meet you at your house around seven?"

"Okay, that's good; I'll have all the ingredients by then," Ginny replied. Phoenix nodded her head and strode out the office door. Ginny couldn't help but smile. For once, she looked forward to going home.

Harry's shoulders slumped as the large wooden door closed behind him. "It could've been worse," he mumbled as he dragged his hand through this hair, causing it to look even more dishevelled than usual. Thankfully, 'The Talk' had been with just Tonks and not Kingsley. Tonks had held a soft spot for Harry since his fifth year at Hogwarts. She hadn't exactly been lenient, but it hadn't been the arse roast Ron had predicted. If it had been Kingsley, it would have been a totally different story.

Harry shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, causing them to tense a little as he walked down the hallway. When he reached the lift, a soft conversation floated past his ears. He looked around for the source of it, and his eyes landed on the office at the opposite end of the hallway. Ginny's… I wonder if she is in there. Before his mind could comprehend what he was about to do, he was standing in front of the closed door with his hand outstretched, ready to knock.

The faint murmurs he had heard were more distinct, now; when curiosity got the best of him, he flicked his wand to open the door hatch above her office a smidge more. He heard Ginny's voice rise to a loud, ear-splitting pitch before a loud bang brought silence. Instinctively, Harry pointed his wand at the door ready to intervene, but the sound of the second voice stopped him. He couldn't distinguish it. It wasn't the baritone of a man's voice, but it was low and raspy, almost feminine in certain aspects. They spoke so low that the conversation was barely audible, until a distinctive cackle startled him.

Harry instantly pinpointed the melodious laughter that intertwined with the raucous cackling. The innocent sound of Ginny's jovial laughter stirred long denied emotions deep inside him as the memories of dark times of war darkened his thoughts. He sighed and ran his hand over the door as he recalled old memories and decided that Ginny's visitor had more important business than he did. Harry's eyes caught sight of a memo darting through the slightly open hatch and watched it disappeared around the corner.

"Harry?" Adriana walked up to him from the side. "Did you hear me call your name?" Harry looked down into her concerned brown eyes as she led Harry away from Ginny's office. "Ron told me about the meeting you were in; how did it go?" she asked.

"It was fine." Behind him, he could hear the door creak open and her voice carry down the hallway.

"Harry?" Adriana placed a hand on his chest. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just have a lot on my mind," he muttered.

"Care to share with me?"

"Not really, sorry." He smiled weakly. Adriana nodded and tightened her grip on his arm. As they walked away, the phantom nymph that Harry had driven away years ago now teased his thoughts with her bright amber eyes and fiery mane. It was all that he desired in the world, but knew he would never have.

Phoenix exited the lift and strode with a purpose towards a back row of offices. She was intent to tend to the business that required her to be at the Ministry that day. She turned the corner and noticed the lone figure that stood in the hallway; the person only a few feet away did not acknowledge her presence; with suspicion as her guide, she swiftly ducked into a one of the many darkened alcoves of the dim hallway. Phoenix pushed her glasses firmly on her nose and focused on the figure.

The mop of raven locks was a dead give away of his identity. She bit back a chuckle and watched as Harry spoke to someone hidden in a doorway. The conversation held was hushed and undistinguishable. Phoenix was about to leave her hiding place, with the assumption that her instincts had been wrong. But when the second person came into view, Phoenix stopped dead in her tracks as an icy chill washed over her.

She had seen this woman before; she couldn't place her face, but there was something about her that did not sit well with the American witch. Phoenix continued to spy as the woman laced her arms around Harry's shoulders and started to nuzzle his neck. Harry's body stiffened slightly but it didn't deter the woman's affections. The woman leaned towards his ear and whispered. Harry grinned sheepishly and lowered his head to kiss her.

Phoenix's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits; an instinct she hadn't felt in two years screamed at her. "I need to get back to the Citadel," she hissed and pulled out her wand and Disapparated from the Ministry.

Ginny barrelled down the stairs to the blare of her doorbell. Her bare feet skidded across the floor and nearly caused her to crash into the door. "Oi, why didn't you answer the door!"

"Because," Phoenix yelled from the kitchen, "It's not my house and I don't know what type of wards you have up. Plus, I'm in the middle of cooking. Who the hell am I, Jeeves?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and adjusted the hastily wrapped bath towel that clung to her body. "I'll show you 'Jeeves'," she muttered darkly and then removed several locking charms and opened the door slightly to peer at her visitor.

"Hey, Ginny, it's me. You can open the door now."

Ginny began to close the door but paused. "Wait, how do I know it's you?" she asked.

"Oh, honestly," she huffed. "It's me, Hermione."

"Tell me something only you would know."

Hermione cocked one hip out and tilted her head. "All right, when you get pissed, you fancy playing connect the dots with the freckles on your legs," she revealed.

Ginny's face flushed on the other side of the door. "You promised you would never tell anyone!"

"I had, but you asked for it," Hermione replied with a grin.

Ginny flicked her wand at the closed door and opened it to allow Hermione in.

"Is that a new ward?"

"Yeah, only works if the visitor knows something about me and I acknowledge it."

"Did I develop that?" Hermione asked as she hung her robes up.

"Probably." Ginny shrugged as she reapplied the security spells and wards. She readjusted the slipping towel. "Zeddie's in there." She pointed to the kitchen and then turned and dashed back up the stairs. "I'll just be a minute," she yelled over her shoulder.

Hermione stood in the small foyer and quietly studied her surroundings. She had only visited the house once, after Ginny announced that she was moving back to England. Hermione was idly tracing her finger along the intricate cedar carvings on the wall when a familiar aroma wafted under her nose that pulled her towards the kitchen. Hermione stepped into the kitchen and barely missed being cleaved in two when a knife zipped by.

"Oh, shit!" Phoenix dropped the tomato she had been cutting. "I'm sorry; I wouldn't have summoned the knife if I knew you were coming in. Did I nick you?"

"Almost."

Phoenix smiled apologetically. "I didn't expect to see you here, Fox." She turned away to add a piece of breaded fish to the hot oil.

"Neither did I," a dressed Ginny said as she leaned against the doorframe. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

"Ron has been assigned to patrol Hogsmeade tonight. I didn't want to stay in the flat alone, so, I thought I'd stop by and see if Phoenix was here."

"Night watch?" Ginny turned to Hermione. "I didn't know that was still in affect; how did he manage to be given that assignment?"

"Night watch isn't how it used to be; they more or less use the shift to give the rookies experience and service hours. It's a tame assignment compared to how it was during the war." Hermione sat down at the table. "But he was assigned by circumstance. Apparently Harry performed poorly in this morning's tactical exercises and is being reprimanded with night watch. Ron, being his partner, got shafted, too."

"Shafted?" Ginny laughed. "Since when have you started using words like that?"

"I think we're beginning to corrupt the girl," Phoenix chimed in from over her shoulder.

There was a slight pause before Ginny and Phoenix broke out into laughter. Hermione looked back and forth between the two witches. "What? It's not like I haven't talked like that before!"

"Hermione, that was in the States; this is here. I don't think my brother would appreciate two rogue women corrupting you," Ginny laughed. "You'll always be his sweet, innocent 'Mione!" Ginny doubled over in laughter at her own joke while Phoenix started to choke from laughter at the sink.

"Innocent?" Phoenix chortled. "Pyro, remember that one time-"

"Oh, shut it, both of you!" Hermione huffed and then softly giggled.

Both Ginny and Phoenix continued to laugh while Phoenix shook her head and finished mixing the corn bread batter. Ginny opened the refrigerator, pulled out two butterbeers, and handed one to Hermione.

Ginny settled down next to her at the small table and proceeded to watch Phoenix whirl around the kitchen. "You know you would think I'd be a pro in the kitchen with having a mother like mine," Ginny said as she sipped from the bottle "Technically, I should be able to whip up anything like that!" She snapped her fingers.

"You probably have more skill than I do; I still have a tendency to burn things," Hermione replied, finishing her butterbeer.

Phoenix stopped what she was doing. "Ladies, I hate to tell you this but, Hermione, the only reason you burn dinner is because you don't pay attention," Phoenix pointed out. "I've seen you cook, Hermione. You'll start it, get distracted, and then forget about what you were doing."

Ginny nearly choked on her mouth full of butterbeer and started to laugh at the scowl that had formed on Hermione's face as a result of Phoenix's remark.

"And you, Pyro," Ginny stopped mid-laugh while Hermione smirked. "You seem to be the only witch I know who can burn a pot of water and ruin one of my good cauldrons!"

Hermione doubled over in laughter after she caught the three-shaded blush that had descended upon Ginny's face. Phoenix turned away from the stove and greeted both women with a grin, "Dinner is ready."

"Now I remember exactly why I dislike night watch," Harry muttered and then kicked a rock as he strolled down the main avenue of Hogsmeade.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, but at least were not duelling Death Eaters every five minutes." Ron looked up at a darkened Honeydukes. "I like how things are quiet, now. Feels like I'm doing my job."

Harry sighed; he appreciated that things had settled down, finally. After having fought in a war for so long, peacetime was both a gift and a curse. Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something was brewing, just waiting to strike. "How many more hours?"

"A lot, so quit asking."

Both men trudged towards the road that led to Hogwarts. When they reached the crest, they stopped and looked fondly at the majestic castle. "When was the last time you visited?" Ron asked.

"It's been years," Harry answered. The grounds still held too many painful memories for Harry to venture there willingly. "What about you?"

"Only a couple of months ago," Ron answered. "Hermione asked me to pick up a bag of mooncalf dung from Neville."

"How is Neville?" Harry asked as he leaned against a tree.

"He's good, been doing real well since he took over Herbology after Professor Sprout retired." Ron pushed off from the tree he had leaned against. "I think he and Luna are expecting."

Harry eyes brightened at the news, yet he felt a distant twinge. After the war, their friendship had suffered, and now Neville barely spoke to him. He forced a smile. "Really? That's fantastic; did you hear this from Neville?"

"Er, no," Ron muttered; his ears went pink.

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Then who?"

"Lavender."

"Lavender Brown-Finnigan?" Harry started to laugh. "You ran into Lavender? How did that go, Won-Won?"

Ron scowled. "Fine."

Harry continued to laugh at Ron's expense. He hadn't thought about the Won-Won and Lavender fiasco since sixth year. He wiped the tears away as he remembered the whole hormonal ordeal and the never-ending snogging sessions. Harry continued to chuckle until the phantom began to tease him with the memory of the last Quidditch match of that same year. His laughter slowly died with the faded image of her eyes as they twinkled with amber lights.

A slow smile teased at his lips as he stared off into space and remembered the joy he felt when Ginny had barrelled into his life and heart that day. Harry glanced up to see Ron staring at him. "Come on; let's walk the outskirts of town and stop by the Three Broomsticks for a cold butterbeer," Harry suggested. Ron agreed as they both turned to head back towards the heart of Hogsmeade.

They quickly reached the fence that bordered the Shrieking Shack and were in the middle of a lively discussion on the upcoming Quidditch match. "There is no way Puddlemere can beat the Cannons next week!" Ron argued. "Wood barely saved those goals when they played Portree last week."

"Ron, I don't know which match you were listening to, but Oliver is having his best season yet. Unless the Cannons' new Chasers step up, they'll have to rely on Hawthorne to catch the Snitch early!" Harry rebutted.

"But Harry, how can you say that! Chudley is having their best season yet! They haven't played this well since-"

Harry came to an abrupt halt and looked at the desolate path behind him. Ron stopped and turned to look back. "What is it?" he asked.

Harry glanced over his shoulder at Ron. "I thought I heard something," he muttered.

"Lumos." Ron took a few steps further down the path, away from Harry, and began to sweep the area. "What did you hear?" he whispered.

"It was a rustling," Harry replied as he searched the area with his eyes. They stood in silence and listened to the unsuspicious night sounds around them. "Nox," Harry muttered. "The day must be getting to me." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah." Ron extinguished his wand, which had blanketed them in a dim light. "Let's go get that butterbeer you mentioned earlier."

Harry took two steps and heard a branch snapped behind him. He whirled around and yelled, "Stupefy!"

Except he didn't hear the sound of a stunned body falling; instead, a low groan answered him. "Lumos!" Off to the side of the path, a bare foot stuck out a few metres away from where he had stood only minutes before.

"Ron, we need help!"

Ron shot several red flares from his wand into the air, summoning all nearby Auror teams to Apparate to their location. Harry could hear Ron barking out orders to the steady stream of Apparating Aurors in the background as he approached the site. Harry had witnessed many terrible things during the war and his years as an Auror, but the scene in front of him brought a tidal wave of nausea that made him feel ill for the first time in years.

He kneeled next to the mangled form and reached out to remove a branch that obscured his view. Just as he wrapped his hand around the branch, a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. Harry screamed and desperately tried to break the grasp of the wide-eyed, ragged-breathed body in front of him. "They're alive!" he yelled. "We need an emergency team here, now!" The commotion of Aurors' feet running towards him fell on deaf ears. Harry could only hear the horrible, anguished screams of the battered witch lacerating his mind.

The three witches that sat around the table could all be described with one word: satisfied. Hermione sat back in her chair and patted her full stomach. Ginny had slowly begun to slide down the chair, her eyes shut, at peace. Next to her, Phoenix sat with her head resting in the crook of her arm with a contemplative expression. Phoenix's gently kicked the dozing Hermione and nodded her head towards Ginny.

"Hey, Ginny." Phoenix gently shook her arm until Ginny groggily opened her eyes. "Do you by chance have the pictures from Trinidad?"

"The Soucouyant mission?" Ginny mumbled as she stared bleary eyed at Phoenix.

"Yes, I've been looking for them; I need them to close the file."

Ginny stood up with difficulty and left the other two women at the table. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Phoenix held her hand up. When the sound of soft creaks from the floorboards above answered them, Phoenix dropped her hand and then beckoned for Hermione to speak.

"Soucouyant?" Hermione whispered. "Was that one of your diversions?"

"Yeah." Phoenix glanced up at the ceiling. "Ginny's been drinking her special butterbeer all evening. I know she has drunk enough to do almost anything." Phoenix looked away. "But that's not the point; I haven't talked to her about it, Hermione."

Hermione eyebrows shot up and nearly disappeared into her hairline. "What? I thought we agreed it would be best if she knew or at least had some warning!"

"I couldn't do it."

"But why?"

"Because, Hermione, after she told me about the Godric case, I felt she didn't need to know about some crazy vision I had."

"How can you say that, Phoenix? What if your vision means something? It could be the key we need."

"It could have also meant nothing, Hermione." Phoenix wrung her hands. "Hell, I'm not even sure if the vision was real; it could've been some bad mushrooms I ate as far as I know. Besides, I thought you didn't believe in the art of Divination?"

Hermione sighed. "That's beside the point. Have you told anyone else?"

"No, no one knows but you and me." Phoenix hesitated before she spoke again, "Besides, I saw something today that bothered me."

Before Hermione could question her further, they heard the light shuffle of Ginny's feet on the stairs. "Look, Fox, I just want to be sure about this, and I need help doing the research before I tell anyone else. Will you help?" Phoenix pleaded.

"Okay, I'll help," Phoenix gave a grateful smile, "but I still think you should tell her," Hermione added.

Ginny entered the kitchen and put an end to the conversation. "Nick, exactly what pictures are you talking about?" she asked sleepily.

"Never mind, I thought you might have them."

Ginny shook her head. "Sorry."

Phoenix pushed back from the table. "Aw, well, screw it. I'll file it without them." She picked up her leather jacket from the back of the chair. "Well, ladies, it's been real, but I must return to the Citadel and get some sleep." Phoenix placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "Are you going to be all right tonight, Pyro?"

Ginny nodded her head sleepily and yawned. The dinner and alcohol had begun to have their sedative effect.

Hermione rose from her seat and followed Phoenix. "I'm going to leave too, Ginny. I need to beat Ron home. Stop by my office at work tomorrow?"

"Sure." Ginny led her guests to the front door and watched Hermione Disapparate on the front lawn and Phoenix ride down the street on her motorcycle. Ginny inadvertently rubbed her full stomach and let loose a long yawn. After she closed her mouth, she disappeared into the house and soon afterward fell into a dreamless sleep.

A/N: Sorry about the delay in updating but I'm very detailed and meticulous when I write so you have to excuse me for that. Thanks to all those that reviewed I greatly appreciate and all those that are still reading. I know my updates aren't the fastest but I hope they are at least worth it. Special thanks to Phoenixlls and ChaoticK for their beta skills and reigning in my overzealous comma use.

Title of this chapter was inspired by the Beatles song after a comment Laura made about this chapter. Hopefully more chapters are on the way after they are edited again for grammar mistakes.

Please Read and Review because I truly do appreciate it and I DO answer them.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter and up next: more mystery shrouds exactly what the Godric Investigation is really about.