Chapter 15. Time To Start Again.
On the far side of the car park away from the research station, Tonks was checking the line of trussed up security guards. From inside the building the sound of running feet preceded the main doors bursting open, an elderly man in a considerable state of disarray dashed out and almost fell down the steps in his haste to get away. Two Aurors neatly immobilised him and picking him up off the ground dragged him unceremoniously toward the pile of incapacitated humanity.
"Who have we here then?" said Tonks. The man was jabbering incoherently and twitching despite the spell that was on him.
The Auror holding him looked down at the badge on the man's coat. "Says here that this is Julius Magus, you want me to shut him up as well Tonks?"
"Wow that's the boss man, isn't it Julie?" Tonks called over to Julie Burford, standing with her husband who was trying to make sense of the babble on his police radio.
"Magus? Yes that's him, looks in a bad way. Something has given him a scare that's for sure." Julie replied. "What is he rabbiting on about?"
Tonks had the Aurors sit the old man down and she bent her head the better to hear him.
"Keeps going on about wizards, spells and darkness, and …oh he knows dear old Draco, just mentioned him by name." Said Tonks, listing Magus' ramblings. "Not to worry if I know Harry and his band they'll have this all sorted out in no time."
Then the ground started to shake and all the lights in and outside the building went out. A deep penetrating rumbling sound from far below their feet became louder and louder, windows shattered, the glass flying in all directions and then there was the crash of falling masonry. The rear half of the building was crumbling to dust and the rest of it was being shaken as the ground heaved and warped under some invisible and immense stress. Using the light of their wands to guide them, Tonks, Julie and the Aurors ran around the building. They had to fight their way through the dust and rubble that rolled off the pile of bricks and twisted steel, that was all that was left of the back of the research station. The ground bucked and twisted and then bulged upwards until it looked like a bubble ready to burst.
They all managed to retain their footing, but were swaying back and forth in their attempts to stay upright. The uplift in the earth grew and grew and as it expanded cracks appeared as the ground, stretched beyond it limits, began to fail and disintegrate.
"GET BACK!" yelled Tonks, they all turned as one and retreated the way they had come.
And as they turned and ran they bumped straight into John who had given up on his radio and was coming to see what all the fuss was about.
He found himself grabbed under the arms and dragged backwards towards the car park again, but because he was facing the direction that everyone was running from he was the only one who could truly say that he saw what happened next.
The bulging ground burst open and for a fleeting second he thought he could see thousands upon thousands of creatures that his worst nightmares would have been proud of creating, leaping and writhing, as if they were trying to reach a central point. Then there was an instant of darkness, so dark that John swore even the stars had stopped shining, and a silence so profound that all he could hear was the rapid beating of his own heart. The others turned to look now and the silence was shattered by the most tremendous roar as a column of white fire erupted from the ground, soaring into the sky and racing away along the ground, burning out an enormous trench as it tracked across the countryside into the distance. The noise was painful to the ears and it rolled on and on as the flame widened one hundred yards, two hundred yards, wider and wider, burning the ground away as it went. Stretching away for miles and miles the destruction continued, the roaring flame scoured the earth to a point which the observers in the car park couldn't see.
………………………………………..
In that second of total darkness Nat drew her shield down to surround her family and friends, their fate was now in the battle that was raging above them. Light and dark were fighting for the whole of creation and they would soon know who had won. Then the light returned and with an unimaginable roar the cleansing fire burst forth, and swept all before it. Nat quickly closed the short distance between herself and the Tyr, and through the wall of the shield they could see the destruction of the cavern and those within it. Nat concentrated on her magical power and all those held in the shield with her disappeared from the base of the pinnacle, which flew apart when the ground around and beneath it was gouged out by the white flame.
Harry had drawn Hermione and the two children to him, protecting them as best he could, Dobby was crowding round their legs shivering and shrieking in fear. Ron and Luna, Ginny and Neville had struck a similar poses each protecting their loved one, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Only Nat stood alone, her eyes aflame, and the power coursing through her very being was making her shine so brilliantly that she seemed to be made of light itself. Then the noise and confusion were gone and Nat let the power and her shield dissipate, the group found themselves standing once again in the fresh, cold, open air, and the quietness of the night.
Far away to the east a bright light was shining, like a ribbon of searchlights it reached into the sky beyond the world where it was born, out to the infinite reaches of creation, it was powerful enough to touch the stars, and was as a beacon to bring hope to the souls of all.
Harry looked around trying to work out where they were, the night sky was full of stars and way below them were the twinkling lights of a village, but only when, in the gentle glow from Nat's staff, he saw the large block of stone she was standing on, did he make all the right connections.
Nat, looking out to the east, raised the staff of Avalon and brought its metal capped end down sharply on the stone. As the staff, with a noise like a hammer blow on the gates of Hell, raised sparks from the stone, the light in the east vanished, it was over.
The Tyr, the children and the house elf stood around the stone on the top of the Tor and stared in wonder at the young girl as the light in her eyes faded and died. Nat was aware of her father helping her down and of her mother and brother warmly wrapping their arms about her. The silent walk down to the village under the light of wands passed without her noticing, and the welcome by her grandparents to The Refuge was as nothing, because deep inside Natalie Potter was as empty and lonely as could be.
They were all far too tired to talk about anything yet, and they collapsed into chairs and sofas and some of them even drifted off to sleep. Harry left and returned with Tonks who was ready to tear a strip off her daughter, but when she saw her Jenny and James fast asleep on a chair each cuddled in each others arms, she was so happy to see they were alright that she forgot about the telling off almost immediately. She didn't stay, but had Harry conjure a 'cloudy doorway', saying that she needed to get back to the Ministry. The mist of her nimbus limen was dispersing from the lane at the front of the cottage, as the others settled down and waited to see what the morning would bring.
…………………………………..
Somewhere in the village of Avalon the cry of a new born baby broke the quiet of that long, long night. Lady Niniane woke from her sleep and rising from her bed walked quietly to the nursery that held a single cot, and gently pulled the covers back from the baby lying there. The infant smiled and gurgled as babies do, then closed his eyes to sleep.
He was a good strong boy, with sandy hair and hazel eyes, and his legs propelled him at considerable speed as he tottered from room to room, yelling out with joy at the top of his voice. He often sat at the window and stared out into the perpetual night, he longed to go and see, for he knew she was waiting for him.
His mother praised him for his cleverness, the puzzles she had set him were not easy, but with a single minded intensity he had mastered them. His thirst for knowledge drove him on, to learn the secrets that others never really bothered about. Yet all the time he wondered if she would remember him.
The power of his magic was considerable, he never bothered with a wand and it never restricted him. In the minutes when time passed normally he found he could use his mind to search for the thoughts of others, good and bad, and although distance made little difference to the strength of his probing, he was always very careful not to abuse it. He never looked to see what she was thinking but he could feel the sadness and the loneliness that she was suffering.
He had known about his gift from the moment of his awakening, he was like his mother and his grandmother, he would live as long as was necessary, the gift would see to that. It had been this way before, and his life had been a curse, but this time it would be different this time he had someone to share the long years that would roll out before them, this time it would be forever together.
The time was getting close, his perpetual world of night and the starlight was lightening as the dawn approached, and the sun returned. He had walked the silent village, he knew every lane and house and he knew the Tor and the crystal caves, and he knew that she hadn't slept at all through that long, long night. For he had seen her, sitting as still as a statue, the tears frozen on her face, her face so beautiful that he found it hard to tear himself away from the window of the cottage and when he did he wished that this night would end and the dawn bring a new day.
His mother watched as he packed his bags, he was tall now, and well grown, she knew the timing was right soon the enchantment would break, soon the world would turn again. She stood at the door and he bent to kiss her goodbye, then as she kissed him back, there was a the sound of breaking glass and a breeze that had not moved in nineteen years lifted some old, fallen leaves and blew them into the hallway.
"Mother?" he asked, for there were many questions bound in that one word.
"Yes, they are all here, and they are all well," she looked deep into her son's eyes,
"And yes she is well too, but remember what she has seen. She may not understand to begin with, be very gentle."
"Thank-you Mother, thank-you for everything." The young man said and walked out of the house into a bright morning that was full of promise.
………………………………………
No one was talking much as Mrs Granger and her husband prepared a breakfast for the exhausted witches and wizards lying in various states of disarray in the lounge. As the kettle boiled and the toast cooked under the grill, the pair of muggles so used to living with all this wizardry were struggling to come to terms with what little they had been able to get out of Harry and Hermione. All they could really comprehend was that Harry's old enemy Draco Malfoy was dead, and so was Solomon Aegis.
The loss of the old wizard was a great shame; the Grangers had come to know him well, but like with Dumbledore before him, these battles between good and evil took their toll and his life had been payment.
What had them totally confused was the change in their youngest grandchild, the little girl they had seen briefly over Christmas was gone and a young woman had taken her place. She was still their Natalie, there was no question over, that but a girl so changed, aged in a way they couldn't comprehend, and so sad that it broke their hearts to look at her.
Harry and Hermione had talked quietly to the girl for most of the night and she had made a few replies but her voice was expressionless, their bright lively daughter was reduced to a young woman who realised that all hope had gone. Eventually even her parents had fallen into a fitful sleep and Natalie had remained seated, unmoving, staring into the distance her eyes focused on nothing at all. In her solitude the tears came and they fell silently on to her hands that were cupped together on her lap. Her upturned palm caught the drops that ran unashamedly down her cheeks and she wept for a love so recently rekindled and so savagely extinguished.
Towards dawn the tears had stopped and as the sun began to lighten the morning sky Nat had risen from the sofa and walked out into the garden to welcome the new day. There was little cheer in her welcome, though the day was doing its best to get off to a good start. The few clouds that scudded across the sky were light and fluffy and the gentle breeze that wafted them about was warm and carried with it the promise of spring and new growth. Nat drew in breath after breath of the fresh new air and slowly, ever so slowly, her resolve began to return. She knew she would never completely throw off her feeling of loss, that would be with her forever, and she began to understand the centuries of pain and sadness that Solomon had carried with him that would now be hers to bear.
David Granger gazed out of the kitchen window as he set cups and saucers on his tray. Nat was out in the garden at the moment, walking slowly in the brightening light of the early morning. He could not help but compare this sight of his granddaughter with the one vision that he had of Hermione in a similar situation, but on that occasion his daughter's depression had been lifted by Harry coming back home and they had been able to share their troubles, but Nat had no one to turn to in her hour of need, no young man to be at her side. The emotion that welled up blurred his vision of his granddaughter, but not so much that he couldn't take in every detail of her appearance. She had outgrown her robes, and she was doing her best to stand straight and tall, which made them look even shorter. Her face was strong and denied the hurt her Grandfather knew she was feeling, it made her look older, her eyes held something that aged her even more. Her hair was long and dark as it had always been, blown by the morning breeze it fanned out in a wild profusion around her head. The sunlight caught the filaments of three white strands that now ran the full length of her hair and made the whiteness glow almost into incandescence.
The young man walked down the narrow lane that ran around the base of the Tor, it was so strange to see it in sunlight and there was a breeze and movement; it was almost like seeing everything for the first time again. He waved cheerily at the witches and wizards he passed on his way to the cottage and they smiled back in the happy understanding that at least that young lad was having a good day. Then as he drew nearer he began to get a little nervous, he wasn't sure why his uncertainty was growing, for had known everyone in that house since he was an old man. Maybe it was the fact that now he was only nineteen that had something to do with it, and he hadn't spoken to any of them in his whole life, perhaps it was excitement at the thought of meeting them again after all this time. He pondered this problem as he walked down the lane, he couldn't decide, he would have to talk to Eleanor, playing with time could be convenient, but was very confusing.
He reached the garden gate and glanced at the sign which proclaimed The Refuge, remembering the first time he had seen that name board. He had been an old man then, it was the year Harry became seventeen, troubled times but long in the past now. He took a deep breath and walked up the path, when he reached the front door he was about to ring the bell when on an impulse he turned and followed the path round the house to the gate that lead to the back garden.
His heart leaped as he saw her, her solemn beauty enhanced by the radiance of the white strands in her hair, the mark of her power, and her position as one of the four. He noticed that she was still wearing her Gryffindor robes, they were definitely a bit on the short side for her now, the red facings and hood lining stood out in the pale sunlight, the bright colour in contrast to that of her face, which was pale and drawn. She was certainly no school girl any longer, she looked sad and alone, and he knew that feeling well.
"Hello" he said just loud enough for her to hear.
She looked up, standing in the gateway was a lad of eighteen or nineteen, he was tall and was dressed in brown, not a drab colour but one that had suggestions of autumn in it. He wore wizards' robes which ended at his knees showing trousers which were tucked into calf length boots made of soft leather. His shoulder length hair was sandy in colour and it had a curl in it which could have given her mother's hair a run for its money. The young man smiled at her and then Natalie felt her world begin to spin, he was by her side and caught her before she hit the ground.
Her grandfather shouted out as he saw Natalie begin to crumble, then from nowhere a boy appeared caught her and gently lowered her down. David's cry jerked Harry back to his senses and he arrived in the kitchen in time to see the final piece of the drama out in the garden. Rushing out of the backdoor Harry saw a young man kneeling on the grass supporting Nat who seemed to have fainted.
"What is going on!" said Harry concerned for his daughter and wondering who this stranger was.
"Sorry Harry," said a tantalisingly familiar voice, "I didn't think she would recognise me as easily as that, I am afraid she has had a bit of a shock …sorry," he said again, and the young man raised his head to look at Harry.
"Oh my!" said Harry, he gazed with incredularity at the boy as his mind tried to come to terms with what he believed he was seeing. "I'm not surprised she fainted, let's get her inside shall we, and I think you, Hermione and I need to have a little talk."
The lad swept Nat up in his strong arms and followed Harry into the house. They passed David Granger standing dumbfounded in the kitchen and Harry led the way up the stairs. They laid Nat gently on her bed and the youth knelt down by her side. Harry sat on the end of the bed shaking his head at the sight before his eyes, and he heard a familiar step hurrying up the stairs, then Hermione appeared at the door.
"What's happened to Natalie?" she brushed passed Harry in her haste and squatted down by her daughter, irritably pushing the stranger's hand away. Hermione smoothed Nat's ruffled hair back and out of her eyes, the girl was pale but breathing normally and she was showing signs of coming round again. With a mother's concern she scrutinised the young man who appeared to be the cause of all this trouble and then she drew in a sharp breath of surprise.
"I don't believe it, it isn't possible, is it Harry?" the words tumbled from her lips, breathless, incredulous and questioning.
"It would seem that it is," Harry said calmly, suggesting that at last his brain was accepting what his eyes were telling him.
"I am sorry…" the young man began, but stopped as a quiet voice from the girl on the bed asked the question both she and her parents needed answering.
"Solomon?" the question was almost a sigh.
"Yes Natalie, I am here,"
"Don't leave me again," she pleaded in the smallest of voices.
"Never," he said.
"Never," she repeated with a satisfied smile, and then her eyes closed and the sleep which had tried to claim her all night finally won.
The three of them moved away from the side of the bed to the window in the room with its view out over the garden to the meadows beyond. They stood in silence for a moment not knowing what to say, then Solomon reached into his pocket, retrieved something from it and held a closed fist out to Hermione.
"Here," he said, "I ought to let you have this back, thank-you very much." Into her open palm he released the necklace with Hermione's Tear suspended on it. The jewel was still and dark but as it touched Hermione's skin a small blue flame ignited in its heart and then it flickered and began to pulse with the strange double beat that it had always carried before.
"Oh …Solomon," Hermione cried and threw her arms around the young man's neck and the tears that fell from her eyes were tears of joy.
A rustling sound from the doorway made them all turn towards it, and standing there was an old stout witch, possibly the oldest witch there has ever been. She looked Solomon up and down, mumbled to herself, then nodded as if she approved of what she saw.
"You'll do," Eleanor said, "only your mother and I have seen you looking like that, there will be suspicions but no one will be able to prove who you are."
"I don't think you will be able to keep his identity secret," said Harry, "if that is what you are intending. Both Hermione and I knew who he was almost immediately; he doesn't look all that different."
"That is true, but then he wasn't trying to hide from you, and you two probably know him much better than all the others." Eleanor gave Solomon the once over again, then confirmed her satisfaction. "No, he will do just fine."
"Thanks," said Solomon, dryly, "thanks awfully."
"You have things to talk over," Eleanor said to the three as they crossed to her. "I will be here when she wakes; she and I need to talk too. Go down stairs now, I will call if she wants you." And with that she shooed them out of the room. "Oh by the way, you can't call him Solomon any more, call him…." she searched for a name… "call him Ambrose." Eleanor gave them the briefest smile, then closed the bedroom door.
Waiting down stairs were a group of very anxious people, who rushed forward all asking questions as Harry, Hermione and young Solomon - Ambrose reached the bottom of the flight.
Harry forestalled all the questions. "Nat is fine, she didn't sleep last night, and what with everything else, she just fainted." He said, smoothly. "Fortunately this young man was on his way to see us and found her in the garden."
Ron was looking suspiciously at the lad that Harry was gripping by the shoulder, he looked very familiar and Ron was beginning to have some very strange ideas. Then suddenly for no reason, it occurred to him that maybe the young man didn't really look all that familiar after all. "OK then," he said, "and you are?"
"Ambrose." said Solomon; he held out his hand, "Ambrose Semper, pleased to meet you Mr Weasley. I am sorry to butt in on you all; I know things are a little difficult at the moment. You see the Merlinium sent me, Lady Niniane was too upset to come herself, but she wanted you to know what happened to my uncle."
"I thought you looked familiar," said Ron, "but then I didn't, confusing isn't it?" he laughed, "So you are related to Solomon?"
"I was Sir, yes." replied Ambrose.
"Oh," Ron looked crestfallen, "sure… was."
A depressing silence descended and was in danger of getting out of hand. "Into the lounge everyone," said Harry, breaking the darkening mood. "Then Ambrose here will tell us what he can."
When they were all seated again, the young man began to explain what the council thought had occurred, as he spoke his manner changed from a lowly official delivering a message and became that of a teacher talking to a class. Ginny listened to the lecture and she was sure that she had witnessed this style before, she glanced at Hermione and raised her eyebrows, but her friend would not meet her gaze. Then as Ambrose continued Ginny's suspicions slipped away and she was amazed at how much like his uncle this young lad was.
"It would appear," said Ambrose, "that the moment the Dreamwraith took over my uncle's body I suppose you could say that he was dead, it's not entirely accurate but it is close enough. You see nothing with a human mind could hope to defeat the Infundus; it has always been able to turn anyone who tried to control or attack it."
"Is that what happened to Voldemort?" Harry interrupted.
"Possibly, err…Professor Potter, we don't know when or how the Infundus invaded his wand, Voldemort dabbled in so much of the darker side of existence it is impossible to tell." Ambrose admitted. "What is clear is that whenever it was that Voldemort touched the wand inhabited by the Infundus, from that moment on he was doomed."
"You mean that he could never have won against us?" Hermione asked.
"Oh no, Professor err… Potter err…Granger." Ambrose gave a nervous laugh. "Sorry I'm not sure how….. perhaps Mrs Potter?" He looked to her for guidance.
Hermione smiled, "Hermione will be fine, Ambrose."
"Oh if you're sure, thank-you. What I intended to say Hermione," said Ambrose trying it out and finding that it fitted ok, "Was that if Voldemort had beaten you then the Infundus would have had a free rein, it would have instantly subdued Voldemort and then there would have been a world ruled by It, infinitely worse than anything Voldemort could have come up with. Your victory put a stop to any plans the Infundus may have had of working through Voldemort, it had to start all over again."
"Anyway," Ambrose continued with the story, "The Dreamwraith had no mind, at least nothing the Infundus could work with, my uncle's soul was clouded in death but his body was still functioning despite the actions of the muggles. So the two of them in combination, with the help of that wonderful stone," he said pointing to the jewel hanging once again around Hermione's neck, "were able to form a singularity and that is where they sent the Infundus, it is isolated, it will never be able to escape, and it has nothing to feed on. No emotions, no minds, no souls."
"So is it dead?" asked Ginny.
"Can't be well." said Ron, earning a giggle from Luna.
"That is something we will never know," said Ambrose seriously. "Unless someone finds out how to unwrap a singularity and that takes a lot of power, exploding sun sort of power."
For the Tyr as a whole that explanation had to suffice. It wasn't complete and maybe the destruction of the Infundus was not as final as they would have liked but it would have to do, they had all agreed that unless Solomon came back from the land of the dead they would never know any more.
"That would be a first," said Ron, "but you know if anyone could do it I would bet it would be that old man." He smiled sadly. "I'm going to miss him."
Harry and Hermione dared not look at each other at this point, nor at Ambrose who sat between them, youthful innocence shining in his face.
After saying their goodbyes Ron and Luna left to return to the Burrow to collect Wulfric and Ginny and Neville disappeared back to Thrubwell's to relieve Poppy Pomfrey and Minerva McGonagall from their babysitting duties and claim Rose once more.
Harry and Hermione were alone once again with Solomon, at least they thought they were alone for in the corner of the lounge the two youngest participants of the drama of the night before sat curled up together silent and unnoticed.
"OK." said Harry, "You and the Dreamwraith dealt with this Infundus, why is it that you look like you have just finished your final year at Hogwarts rather than its Headmaster."
"Ah! well it is very simple," said Solomon. "you both saw what occurred; my body was completely consumed, so I had to start again."
"That's not much of an answer Solomon, why didn't you die?" Harry looked a little embarrassed to ask. "Not that it isn't nice to have you back, but it isn't normal is it?"
"I think I can answer that for you Harry," said Hermione, "If you try to remember all the stuff we learned about our souls, you know that dying isn't the end of it."
"Yes, I know that we can come back," said Harry "but when we do we are someone else, and we don't remember what happened before. I didn't think you could come back for a re-run or pick how old you are when you return," he remarked looking pointedly at the disgustingly youthful Solomon.
"No that's right," said Hermione thoughtfully, "as far as it goes. However I spend far more time reading old books and scrolls than you do…"
"When didn't you." Harry said quietly.
Hermione ignored him and continued, "… and it goes a bit further that that. I found a very old scroll which explains it. Whatever happens to us, there are four souls who remain here all the time to …I don't really know how to put it… look after the rest of us I suppose," she said looking to Solomon for confirmation.
"Good approximation," he said.
"So," continued Hermione, "basically Solomon and his mother, and Eleanor and Merlin cannot die. If anything happens to their physical form then they would have to regenerate a new body… you know… start again as a baby."
Solomon nodded slightly in agreement. "OK," said Harry, "I get that, but if you were born last night, why aren't you still a baby?"
"Eleanor held my mother and I in a temporal conundrum for nineteen years, she released it this morning," said Solomon, sounding so much like the teacher he didn't look like any more. "Hermione is almost correct, there are four of us, and we have been given a gift, we remain while others pass on. The old Solomon was gone, and a new Solomon grew to nineteen years old in the time it took you to pass one night. Same person, different body," he said finishing with a flourish.
"OK I buy that," said Harry, "I am not sure why, but it does make some sort of sense."
The one subject neither parent had touched on was the change in their daughter and Solomon decided that if it wasn't to come unannounced he had to take the initiative and deal with it now.
"Your understanding of the four eternal souls was excellent Hermione." She smiled in appreciation of his praise. "The only thing is," Solomon said with trepidation, "is that you were wrong on one account. Merlin is no longer one of the four eternal souls; he gave his gift to another." He paused, uncertain as how to go on. "Oh dear, …looking back I have always known there was something special about Natalie, let's be honest both your children are special, but for some time I was convinced that Natalie has layers to her personality that she has been hiding."
Hermione was looking at him in shock, remembering the old man who had shown her the future, the old man that she had seen when in truth she had expected to see Nat. The young Solomon was still talking. "I didn't know until the last few seconds before the Dreamwraith took control, but I saw something in Natalie's mind that I thought I would never see again, not in this world anyway."
Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes as the realisation hit her. "My baby." She said quietly, as Harry slipped his arm around her.
"There is no doubt Solomon?" said Harry as calmly as he could.
"I don't think so," he said earnestly, "I clearly saw Natalie's past lives in her mind, you aren't supposed to be able to do that, and there is something else…" This was very difficult, it was something that they should know but despite all his years of knowledge and memories, he didn't know how to say what he so desperately wanted to tell them.
In the uncomfortable silence, while Solomon searched for a way to tell Harry and Hermione that he was in love with their daughter and had been for over a thousand years, came a voice full of concern that his family was about to be terminally disrupted.
"Tell me Solomon, Ambrose, who or whatever it is you are; what have you done to my little sister?" James' question wasn't quite shouted out, perhaps if he was sure that he should have been listening to the conversation it would have been.
"Solomon has done nothing," said a voice from the top of the stairs. They all turned to look at the speaker, and Natalie stood there looking every inch of the young woman she had become. Dressed now not in her Gryffindor robes but in flowing robes of emerald green which exactly matched the colour of her eyes.