Nothing Gold Can Stay
It was a cold morning. Harry's jog around the grounds could attest to that. The automatic coffee machine had just activated when he walked through the doorway. Harry stared at the coffee machine interested, he didn't remember setting it; the curiousness of the situation was the fact that he hadn't set it to go off.
"Do you like coffee in the morning?" Ginny asked walking into the room brushing her teeth.
Harry shrugged, "It doesn't matter. I don't like coffee that much." He sat down wiping his face, "It's getting warm out."
Ginny said nothing handing a mug of coffee to Harry.
"How did you get hustled into this?" Ginny asked as she sat down across from Harry on the long table. Harry said nothing as he put two teaspoons of sugar and a bit of cream into this mug.
"My superior a week before we moved in told me I was being transferred. I asked around, you know asked sources, heard this is really a safe house. That is why I bought lots and lots of interesting reading."
Ginny said nothing as she lifted the mug to hid her smile; she didn't even have to press about his sources.
"These sources," Ginny asked, "Are you still in contact with them now?"
"If I wanted to be I could come into contact with them. Why?"
"I need to find something out."
"And your own contacts? Everyone in the ministry has some, what happened to yours."
Ginny's smile turned upside down, "They haven't come up with anything. I don't usually like using other informants but I'm desperate."
"What do you want to know, maybe I can help."
Ginny looked at Harry. When she was younger she worshipped him, as they both got older Ginny stopped seeing him as a man who could do no wrong but a teen who made mistakes. Now, she preferred to leave those of her childhood alone, she liked to keep people at arms length, people only brought you down never brought you up. She didn't trust people, when she was young it was instinct but after the chamber, it became her creed. But she needed to tell somebody.
***
Hermione in times of stress found relief in books. So when she finally dragged herself out of bed, after her morning routine, and finally finding the extensive library, Hermione found herself spending most of her waking hours there. The answer to her problems, the dreams, she was so close but so far away. She needed to understand why such disturbing images kept coming to her. Normally she would've gone to Harry with the problem but she was reluctant to go to him. She didn't want to seem like a childish bookworm when all she wanted him to see her as was an intelligent grown woman. She wanted to solve this by herself. So when she finally got into the library she was shocked and dismayed at Blaise sitting in an armchair close the window, engrossed in the novel she had set aside on the side table the previous evening.
"What are you going here?" Hermione asked. Granted it wasn't the most polite thing to say but she hadn't been around people for about a week. That along with the stress she was under, her manners were not going to be the best. Luckily Zabini didn't seem to mind. He set the book down on the little side table and focused his full attention to Hermione.
"I don't really mind this house. In fact it's quite beautiful."
Hermione felt herself get frustrated. First he entered her own private place and when she asked him a simple question; he pulled the foulest shit out of his ass!
"Answer my question." Hermione demanded.
"I was." The Zabini answered coolly. The way the sunlight hit his face suddenly making him appear paler and harsh, "But then you interrupted me."
Hermione sighed and sat down.
"I'm sorry." She gestured with her hand, "Continue."
"I often have a hard time sleeping. I usually have an easier time sleeping when I'm not alone." Hermione's eyebrows shot up but she said nothing as he continued. She watched Zabini turn his gaze out the window, "But I am having more trouble than usual sleeping."
"My question?" Hermione queried.
"I was looking for a sleeping potion with little side effects." Zabini turned his attention back to Hermione, "I was surprised to find a book on the meanings of dreams, lying neatly on the table." He stood up and put his hands in his pockets. He paused waiting for Hermione to say something.
"It's research." Hermione said. Being the silly woman that she could be sometimes Hermione did not want Zabini, a Slytherin, to know what she really wanted with the text. Of course it was silly, years out of Hogwarts, a person shouldn't allow a person's specific house determine the person, because there always was exceptions to the rules. Hermione was also a strong believer in a person's strength to change, she weighed her options carefully. Zabini, was a well known Wizarding Scholar renowned for his approached to the facts, could help her figure out her dream. But the logical part of her brain was still reluctant to trust her old schoolmate. When she was about to tell him to piss off an essential thought went through her mind; if Blaise was as indifferent as his reputation suggested, he wouldn't bother to learn something unless he was asked or the subject truly mattered to him. Blaise was going through the same thing she was!
"You are dreaming it too." Hermione meant it to be a question but it came out as a statement. Hermione didn't bother to rephrase it either letting her intention clear.
"Getting what?" Zabini asked.
Hermione went on the defensive; he was going to answer her damn question!
"If you are referring to the dreams when I am a wolf…then yes I do what you refer to."
Hermione narrowed her eyes, "Then what are we going to do about it?"
Hermione knew if Zabini was experiencing the same type of dreams as herself that he would understand her compelling desire to understand the dreams. Without answering Zabini picked up the book, opening it back to the place he left off. He looked back at Hermione and said, "There is a book on a shelf towards the back of the room. The title is "Mystic Omens and Signs: The Sources". That should help."
With that said, Zabini turned his attention back to the book but Hermione understood. They would figure this out.
***
Ronald Weasley was one of the best players in moderation. And that wasn't even his ego screaming the headline; it was on the front page of the Daily Prophet. The Wizarding newspaper had given a poll and it turned out that Ron was voted to be the best Wizarding player in the past season. This headline was big news, considering how horrendous his first year at professional Quidditch at Hogwarts to now being the current best in the league; it blew his mind. It was a dream come true! And it wasn't just his break, the Quibbler, now owned by Luna (his fiancée) was now an actual competition to the Daily Prophet. To celebration of both their success were going to The Glass Slipper, they both decided to go for dinner and dancing, and Ron could hardly wait. There was only one thing that bothered him.
He hadn't seen or heard of certain people in a week. He hadn't heard from his two best friends, sister, and according to Neville his fellow researcher Blaise hadn't been seen or heard from in a week; about the same time his friends and sister were last seen. But he was determined to not let his uncertainties ruin his night.
***
The Glass Slipper was the place to go. If you were rich, they tended to go every opportunity and if you were poor or middle class it was your dream to go do the same. Ron, not being used to his sudden wealth, enjoyed the thrill of going to the Glass Slipper which still immense and went whenever he had the chance. Even though the Glass Slipper was whispered amongst many people, never mattering what class, many people did not know exactly what the Glass Slipper was. The Glass Slipper wasn't one room but in fact many rooms, each one grand in its own right. There was the grand entrance which had three doors leading to three different locations. The one on the far right led to a small exclusive club with a more than fully stocked bar and overly extravagant bar, and the best mix of both Muggle and Wizarding music. The entrance on the far left, led to the gardens used for outdoor parties and corporate affairs. The middle hallway led to the five brooms (the rating only belong to three best restaurants in the Wizarding world; brooms ranging from two to five) had the best chefs who made the best foods, the best live bands, and the room's design mimicked the design of the grand restaurants from the 1950's with the high ceilings, bright colors, beautiful glass chandlers, and excess of every kind placed wherever their was the chance.
***
Luna Lovegood may not have changed much on the outside; longer hair and a more mature face, most of the changes consisted from her personality. She stopped being more spacey and showed her intelligence to the world and that with the combination of her being more outspoken and less of a pushover Luna Lovegood had emerged as one of the most successful women in the Wizarding World. Ron was just proud to be her fiancée. She was the love of his life and he was glad to have not pushed her out of it.
"I was thinking about the wedding." Luna replied as she set her wine glass down, "How about a summer wedding."
"Will we actually be able to get everything done by this summer?" Ron asked as he set his knife and fork down. The Filet Mignon was especially good that night and he was glad that he ordered it that night. He reminded her, "Don't forget the media coverage that will be there."
He could already see Luna's mind trying to fathom a way to make the wedding work while she went back to her salmon filet, the determination still gleaming in her eyes. Ron knew when she had found a way when a smile found a way to her face. She was about to say something when someone entering the room caught her eye and her smile wavered.
Ron turned around and saw a beautiful couple being led to their table by their waiter. The man was in a black tailored suit, with pale skin contrasted by long black hair held back in a low ponytail; a red ruby on his right ring finger catching the light from the chandler. He had broad features to match his broad shoulders and an air of pride saturating the air. It wasn't the man who had Luna's attention but the woman with him. She had light brown skin, long black hair down to her back, what could only be called noble features, and her most startling feature were the sharp grey eyes. She looked stunning in tight low cut dress her feet in high heels the only type of jewelry on the strap around her ankles flashing with every movement.
"Who is she?" Ron asked as he turned around. He watched Luna as Luna watched them walk to their table and sit down before she turned her attention back to Ron.
"I didn't know they were in London."
"Who is she?"
Luna shot a quick look to the couple before answering, "Maxwell Stantion and…." She trailed off before concluding, "That can't be her."
Ron heard all he needed to hear. "Maxwell Stanton, from the Stantion, Stanton's?" Ron asked almost chocking on his wine.
"Yes."
"Okay what about the girl? Isn't she kind of young to be hanging around such a older man."
"Age won't matter with her. She graduated school at age fifteen. Was an auror by age eighteen."
"So why wouldn't she come to England?" Ron asked.
Luna smiled her thanks to the waiter who served her chocolate cheesecake and answered, "She was released about a year ago."
Ron looked at the girl who was smiling at something Maxwell had said.
"It takes a lot to be released form the service. What happened?"
Luna leaned over and smiled. "Well," She said her tone seeping scandal, "That's just it no one knows. She was supposed to go undercover as a death eater. Young, I know, but death eaters seem to be going after the young and impressionable. Coming from a rich family only helped lure the scouts. She brought them down but two aurors died; a month later after an investigation she was released from the service."
"Why?"
"There were rumors she really is a death eater and killed the two aurors herself."
"Who is she Luna?"
He saw Luna's hesitation and that surprised him because Luna was known for her forwardness. He had a bad feeling about all of this.
"Luna?" he asked grasping her hand from across the table.
Luna took a deep breath before answering, "Kaida Drake."
HA! Do you like, do you like? SPECIAL THANKS to Kirixchi for letting me use her idea of the Glass Slipper featured in Chapter Nine of The Pleasure of Your Company. Great, great, great, fanfic! If you haven't read it yet, go read it! I promise it will not let you down. Thanks also to Natalia (you look so cute/hot with the dark hair; leave it like that! ^_-) for beta reading and editing. I hope this was as good for you as it was for me. It took forever to get this out of my head. Thanks for everyone who reviewed, they mean so much and I hope to get the next chapter out soon!