John lay awake in bed. Ron snored in the bunk below him. Their parents had been surprised when he'd asked to sleep over at the Burrow, but hadn't objected. He shifted to his side.
Somewhere far outside the Burrow, an owl hooted.
He'd been surprised when none of his birthday presents contained the invisibility cloak, but he wasn't sure how to ask about that without having to explain how he knew about it.
He slipped the covers off and slipped on his indoor shoes.
Not having the cloak made him feel naked. He'd have to learn the disillusionment charm as soon as possible.
He crept out into the hallway.
Either that, or he'd have to figure out where the cloak was. Maybe one of the elves could help him. Damn. He wished he'd thought of that earlier.
He descended the stairs, careful to step over the one that always squeaked.
The more he thought about the hairpin and Ginny's strange behaviour, the more he thought back to second year, and to a Ginny who'd been distant and jumpy. Who'd seemed to be a completely different person. And to a cursed object that'd been possessing her — controlling her.
He arrived outside Ginny's door. He opened the door, carefully, quietly, expecting shrieks of hatred and indignation at every inch of progress.
Not that, that would stop him. It was painfully obvious something was wrong with Ginny. And he was going to save her.
He padded to her bedside and gazed at the peaceful angel, fast asleep, one leg stuck out from the covers. A line of drool ran down her elegantly freckled cheek.
He dragged his gaze from Ginny to the side table. Ahh. There. He picked up the tiny broomstick and pocketed it. If this was what was wrong with her, then he knew just who'd be able to tell him.
...
Early next morning, John zoomed by the vast numbers of floo connections until a familiar sitting room filled his vision. He stepped out into the ancestral home of the Blacks. A most unwelcome sight immediately greeted him.
"What are you doing here, Potter?"
Alexandra Black, winner of his personal award for most-frustrating-Slytherin, and fellow Tri-wizard champion, sat in a high-back chair, reading a thick and ancient-looking tome. The last time he'd seen this witch, they'd been trading curses in the maze. As much as he hated admitting it, it had only been by luck that he'd won that little skirmish.
"Alex." His tone was cool.
She narrowed her eyes. "Don't call me that."
"I'll call you what I want."
She looked surprised by the retort. Then her eyes narrowed. "What's got you so full of yourself? Not that it matters. Almost all Potters are pathetic."
"Whatever, I'm here to see your Dad. Where is he?"
"Why?"
"That's not your business."
"Maybe I want to make it my business. After all, you want to know where my Dad is."
He clenched his teeth. "What do you want?"
She smiled. "How about a book swap from the Potter library?"
"Are you out of your mind!" he all but screamed. He got a control of himself. "All I want to know is where your Dad is. How about a box of chocolate frogs?"
She stared at him for a whole two seconds, before laughing. "Wow, I really don't know how you two are related. You have all the political understanding of a typical Gryffindor brick, Potter."
He hated this. Even when she was ten—or almost ten—she still had that sharp tongue and unerring ability to get under his skin. Seeing her this young again made him wonder where the little girl who'd played 'wizards and witches' with him, Ginny, and Ron had gone.
"What's all this shouting?" Lord Sirius Black marched out of a side room, wearing full auror uniform.
Oh, thank Merlin.
Alex huffed.
"Oh, morning, John. You're here early. I was about to head into the office."
"Padfoot, I've got a problem. Can I talk you about it? It's kinda to do with your work."
Sirius eyes turned sharp and flashed him a questioning look. "Sure thing. This an at-the-office kind of thing? Do your parents know?"
"Yeah, and no. It's kinda sensitive. I need the input of my favourite Godfather."
"Hah!" Sirius barked. "Alright then, Pup. See you there." He hesitantly turned to Alexandra before stepping into the floo. He cleared his throat, and tugged his collar. "Err. Be good, Alex."
Alex lowered her head. "Yes, my Lord Black."
Sirius grimaced and turned away again.
He waited for Sirius to floo away, before stepping in, turning, and smirking at the doll-like dark witch.
She growled back.
....
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