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"Whose idea was it for Quidditch to be played all winter anyway?" one of the beaters complained. "When I hit the Bludger that last time, my hand was so numb, I nearly lost my bat!"

"I bloody well couldn’t hold on at all," the other Beater growled. He’d dropped his bat twice before practice was over.

Harry looked at Ron and grinned. Ron had saved nearly every goal today, and Harry had caught the Snitch three times. Harry didn’t know if their success today was due to the Snitch as well as the other team members simply being slower in the cold, or to pure, golden luck. It was a lot more fun to give luck the credit.

The team captain called for everyone’s attention. "Since the weather’s so foul, and supposed to continue the same way all week, we’ve decided to cancel practice the rest of the week." A ragged cheer rolled through the locker room. "Now, lads," the captain continued, "don’t be like that. We just want everyone to be in top form with our match against the Tornadoes coming up in two weeks. While you’re off, study your playbooks. I want all the new plays memorized by our first practice next week. And remember to exercise even when you aren’t flying! Right, then! See you lot next week."

Another weary-sounding cheer filled the locker room, along with some ribald jokes and a good bit of laughter.

"I expect you’re off to Hogwarts with all this free time, eh, Potter?" the captain said as he passed Harry and Ron.

"I wish," Harry said with a wistful sigh. "We have a project to work on for Auror School. The extra time will be put to good use."

"Never let it be said that the Lions got in the way of higher education," the captain teased. "Good work today, lads. And Weasley—you’ve improved tremendously in the last few practices. Whatever you’re doing, keep it up!"

Ron’s ears turned red, but he grinned. "Thanks." Since the scene with Harry and Hermione where she’d finally admitted what was bothering her, both Hermione and Ron were in better moods as well as being more productive in their school work, and in Ron’s case, in Quidditch practice.

After changing back into their street clothes, Harry picked up the book bag he always carried in case he had a spare minute to work on the analysis of the evidence against Ginny’s stalker. "You want to work on this stuff today or what?"

"Yeah, of course!" Ron said. "’Mione’s at Oxford, so we’ll have the house to ourselves."

"I thought it might be good to work at Remus’s, so we could pick Tonks’s brain. I’ve talked to her about the case several times already," Harry said, "but every time I think I have a handle on things, something else occurs to me. There are so many ways to look at the evidence. I’m still confused about some of the process."

"Hey, we’re only first-years, after all!" Ron said with a cheerful grin. "This stuff is supposed to be confusing at first. I think they design it that way, actually." He laughed. "Yeah, let’s go and see if Tonks can help us."

* * * * *

Harry sat with the sleeping baby cuddled in his left arm, writing in the margins of his notes with his right hand. Tonks had pointed out the errors in their analysis process and was now starting dinner while the boys finished making notes about her explanation.

Ron sat back and sighed. "Blimey, Tonks, if you hadn’t helped me with that last calculation, I never would have finished."

Tonks grinned at their praise, then shrugged as she tossed a handful of herbs into the pot bubbling merrily on the stove. "Hermione would’ve sorted you out eventually, ducks." Motherhood had somehow cured her of much of her clumsiness. The pots barely rattled as she cooked these days. "It was Harry’s idea of coming at it from a different angle that made all the pieces of the puzzle come together properly. But the best part is, your analysis shows that the same person sent all those things. That will be a big help to the Aurors."

"They probably worked that out ages ago," Ron said as he stuffed his books back in his bag.

"No, they haven’t," Harry said, surprising both Ron and Tonks. "I heard them talking in the corridor when I went back to get my book last night. They said they’re still stymied. With what we’ve worked out here, at least we know it’s one person. That’s something, anyway."

"The methods they have for tracking down who did a particular spell will amaze you when you learn them," Tonks said. "Take good notes! I want to know what’s new out there, since I’ve been off work for so long."

"When are you going back to work?" Harry said, holding little Matthew closer now that he’d finished writing.

"I don’t know." She turned and leaned against the counter, watching Harry with the baby. "I’d like to stay home with Matthew until he’s in school, but I don’t want my skills to get sloppy either. And of course, I need to get my girlish figure back!" She sauntered the length of the kitchen and posed like a catwalk model, making both young men laugh.

"We’ll drill you on things we learn, how’s that?" Harry offered with a grin. "And you look great. Nobody would know you’d just had a baby."

"You’re sweet, you are," she said, batting her eyelashes at him outrageously, "but I’ll be back in fighting trim soon. And as for drilling me on what you learn, that would be brilliant! You’re on!"

* * * * *

A few nights later, Harry and Ron were in class working on another aspect of the evidence analysis.

"More calculations," Ron grumbled.

"If it helps Ginny—"

Ron sighed. "Yeah. It’s for Ginny. I keep telling myself that."

They and their classmates were deep in mathematical hell, or at least it seemed that way, when the door of the classroom opened. Harry glanced up and saw Kingsley Shacklebolt enter the room. He grinned at the man, but Shacklebolt’s attention was on Professor Thurston as he strolled between desks supervising the class’s work.

"Kingsley! Nice to see you," Vance Thurston said.

"Vance," Shacklebolt said in his deep, slow voice. "A word, please?"

"Of course!" Thurston turned to the class. "Keep working on those calculations. I’ll be back in a moment." He followed Shacklebolt through the door and closed it behind him.

"What d’you reckon?" Ron said, staring at the door as if he could see through it.

"I reckon we should have brought some Extendable Ears to class," Harry said, chewing his lip. "Something’s up. Kingsley usually looks for us when he drops in."

"Yeah, that’s what I thought too." Ron turned to Harry. "Call Ginny on your ring. Make sure she’s OK."

"Yeah, good idea." Harry was about to press the stone on his ring when the two Aurors returned to the classroom.

"May I have your attention, please?" Thurston said, his voice much more serious than usual. "For those who haven’t met him, this is Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new head of the Auror Division. He has something to tell you."

All eyes turned to Kingsley, who stood quietly before him, his innate dignity shining through his eyes. "First, I want to commend you on the work you did on the evidence evaluation in the Ginny Weasley case. Your work saved us a good bit of time, and your conclusions were right on the money. We’ve gone over everything and incorporated your findings, and we’ve narrowed down the suspects to one. We’re going to apprehend her tonight. I’ve just spoken to your professor, and he agrees that you’ve earned the right to observe our capture of this witch."

An excited murmur ran around the room, but Harry didn’t feel the same excitement as the others. He wanted revenge. He wanted to hurt the witch who’d tried so hard to hurt Ginny.

His dark thoughts startled him. He couldn’t think this way if he planned to be an Auror! He had to be logical and keep an emotional distance from the case and the criminals so he could be objective and avoid making mistakes that could get guilty parties let off with no punishment because of legal complications. He blew out an impatient breath and forced himself to relax, then looked at Ron. He saw something in Ron’s eyes that felt all too familiar before Ron managed to master himself.

"Thinking of ways to get back at her, weren’t you?" Ron said after a moment.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

Kingsley was still explaining the process that had been used to determine which suspect was the guilty one. When he finished, he turned to Harry. "Mr. Potter, may I see you outside for a moment?" Harry got to his feet and followed Kingsley through the door.

With the door closed behind them, Kingsley turned to Harry. "Would you help us apprehend this woman, Harry?"

Excitement filled Harry. The Aurors were going to let him help arrest Ginny’s stalker! "Of course! What can I do?"

"Here’s the plan . . ."

* * * * *

The house was nondescript, a row house identical to all those around it in this section of East Finchley. It was two stories tall with a small porch and a tiny fenced garden in front. The Aurors, both professionals and students, were gathered in a sad, dusty park across the street, hidden in the shadows of the ancient beech trees there.

"You remember the plan, Harry?" Kingsley said, giving Harry’s shoulder a firm squeeze.

Harry blew out a nervous breath. "Yeah, I’ve got it."

"I still think it’s a bad idea to send a student," one of the Aurors, a small woman with mousy hair, said. "From all reports, she’s quite dangerous."

Kingsley gave the woman a withering look. "You weren’t at the final battle against Voldemort, Gladys. You didn’t see him fight."

"I saw the films!"

"The films were useful, but you had to be there. Trust me on that. Harry Potter can handle himself. After all, he killed Voldemort. He’ll be just fine."

Harry wished he had Kingsley’s confidence. He wasn’t comfortable with the plan at all. He knew he could do what was required, but he’d have to keep a tight hold on his emotions or he’d ruin everything.

"Ready to go?" Kingsley said, giving Harry a brief smile.

Harry blew out a nervous breath. "Yes."

Ron gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder. "You’ll be fine, mate. And Ginny’s life will be a lot more peaceful after this is over."

Harry nodded. Ron was right. He needed to remember Ginny . . . no, he needed to put her out of his mind and concentrate on the task at hand. Yeah, that was it. He took a deep breath and left the park, crossed the street and entered the shabby little garden. He stepped up onto the porch and knocked on the door, hoping everything would go as planned.

"Who is it?" a woman’s voice called through the closed door.

"Harry Potter from the London Lions. Is Nancy Warton in?" Harry said in his most polite voice.

"Harry Potter?" The curtain at the window nearest the door shifted aside, revealing part of a young woman’s face. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw him. "Harry Potter! Here?" The door flew open and she stood there panting with excitement. "Harry! What are you doing here? Oh, my manners! I’m sorry. Would you like to come in?"

About five foot four, long brown hair—she matched the description Ron had given of the woman who’d set Ginny’s robes on fire at Madam Malkin’s. This was it. She was the one. He swallowed hard, determined not to let his nerves show.

"Nancy Warton?" She nodded, her face bright and eager. He tried to give her a friendly smile. "I remember you. You’re at all the home games."

"You remember me? Wow!" She clasped her hand together so tightly, the knuckles were white. "That’s so cool! But why are you here?"

"You’ve won a contest the Lions were running. Can you come outside so we can talk? I’ve been cooped up inside all day studying our new plays. It isn’t too cold out. I’d love a walk in the fresh air."

"You’re inviting me to go on a walk with you?" she gasped. "Won’t your girlfriend mind?"

Harry crossed his fingers behind his back. "No. We broke up."

The girl clapped her hands gleefully. "I knew she was wrong for you!"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, well, it was something I had to learn for myself."

Instantly sympathetic, Nancy put her hand on Harry’s arm. "Oh, poor, dear Harry. Did she hurt you terribly?"

Harry decided to evade her question. "Could we just go for a walk so I can tell you about this contest the Lions were running?"

"Oh! Of course! Let me just get my cloak." She disappeared for a moment, then returned, swinging her cloak around her as Harry pulled the door closed behind her. She didn’t notice him casting a wandless spell that kept the door unlocked, nor had she seen him cast the spell that searched the house for other people. He’d just sent a quick Adfero to Kingsley to tell him the house was empty when the girl appeared with her cloak.

Harry adjusted the cloak on the girl’s shoulders and helped her pull her long brown hair out of the collar.

She beamed up at him. "Oh, you’re such a gentleman! I knew you would be!"

Harry shrugged, uncertain what to say. He was doing his best to be a good escort and keep her both intrigued and entertained while the Aurors entered her house to look for evidence. They had the necessary paperwork from the Ministry to search the premises, but, given the nastiness of some of the spells she’d put on the letters and packages she’d sent Ginny, the Aurors had decided sneaking in with her out of the house would be better than trying to enter by force. Who knew what kind of booby traps she might have in there that she’d certainly set off if she felt threatened.?

"So what is this about a prize? What contest did I win?" Nancy prompted. She also took his hand, which made Harry flinch involuntarily. "Oh, I’m sorry. Too soon after breaking up?"

Harry managed to extricate his hand from her clinging fingers. "Yeah, a bit soon. Thanks for understanding."

She shrugged and looked up at him with sparkling eyes. "No problem."

Harry smiled down at her, trying to look appreciative, but certain his smile looked sickly. It certainly felt sickly! He wanted to rub his hand on his robes to get the feel of her skin off of him, but, with a great force of will, he kept his hands relaxed at his sides.

"The Lions’ management chose a name from those who attend our home games regularly. The winner gets to spend a day with their favourite player. And the winner is you."

She gasped and clutched her hands to her chest, her eyes and mouth wide open in amazement. "Me? I never heard about the contest! I didn’t know—"

"Management wanted it to be a surprise. There will be a big article about it in the Daily Prophet."

"So I won you?"

"If I’m the one you want to spend the day with, sure."

"What will we do?"

"Whatever you want, within reason."

She laughed. "Define ‘within reason.’" She slipped her hand between his arm and his body, grasping his arm lightly.

Harry decided to leave her hand where it was for the moment. It seemed to make her happy and keeping her happy and distracted was his job.

"‘Within reason’ means whatever doesn’t make me uncomfortable or risk the reputation of the team," he explained.

"You’re a pretty tough guy, though," she said, flirting madly. "You defeated You-Know-Who and won the war. I’ll bet there isn’t much you’d think was beyond reason."

"You’d be surprised," he said, wondering how much longer he’d be able to keep up his end of the conversation without cringing. He thought he would’ve received the signal that the Aurors were finished with their search by now! He’d no sooner thought this than he heard "Incarcerous!" from somewhere behind him. He whirled around, wand in hand, but relaxed when he saw the people behind him were Aurors. Nancy, on the other hand, was screaming like a banshee.

"Harry! Help me! Harry!" She struggled against her bonds hard enough that she lost her balance and fell to the ground. Nobody bothered to try to catch her. Harry cast a Tongue-Tying Jinx on her to shut her up.

"Did you find what you needed?" Harry asked Kingsley.

"Oh, yes. She’s the one. Wait until the all clear is given to be sure it’s safe, and then you can go in with the rest of your class and look around. Just be sure not to touch anything." As Harry nodded and began to turn away, Kingsley put his hand on Harry’s arm, detaining him. "Good work, Harry. You were very convincing."

"Thanks."

"She did have some booby-traps in the house, but since we were able to go in carefully, we defused all of them. But I have to warn you, Harry. There are things in that house that will disturb you."

"I already feel as if I need a bath, just from her holding my hand," Harry said with an involuntary shudder. "If she’s really the one who’s stalking Ginny—"

"All the evidence points to it. You’ll see when you’re in there."

Harry glared down at the young woman now looking up at him with stricken eyes. "I don’t know what gave you the idea that you could bully Ginny enough for us to break up. All your bullying did was make us closer to each other. I’m marrying Ginny Weasley, and you are not going to bother her, or me, ever again." It took every bit of self-control he could muster, but he managed to refrain from kicking her, then turned on his heel and headed toward the house. He caught up with Ron in the doorway.

Ron clapped him on the back when Harry joined him. "Blimey, Harry, you had me convinced she’d won a date with you and you were going to cooperate with the whole thing! Bloody well done!"

"Thanks."

"Merlin’s knobbly knees, Harry, come and look at this!" one of his classmates called.

Ron looked at Harry, his mouth quirked in an amused grin. "Merlin’s knobbly knees?"

"Don’t let Merlin hear you say that," Harry said, feeling more cheerful than he had in months. They’d caught the stalker! Ginny was safe now! He felt as if his lungs were filled with clean mountain air, as if a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. It was a delicious, invigorating feeling!

He and Ron entered the room his classmate had wanted him to see. Harry stopped and stared around him. It felt as if his stomach was filled with hot lead, had dropped through the floor and drilled a hole many feet into the ground. He couldn’t breathe. His head was pounding, yet he felt light-headed at the same time. All around him, pasted to every square inch of the walls and ceiling, were photographs or newspaper or magazine clippings of him, many with Ginny at his side. But Ginny didn’t look like herself. Many of the pictures had Nancy’s face pasted over Ginny’s. In others, Ginny’s face had been shredded by spells or scissors or knives. Some were obliterated with red paint spelling out, "Die, Ginny Weasley! Die!!!" Dolls with long red hair lay in pieces around the room, destroyed in various ways—arms and legs ripped apart, heads torn off, hair shredded, bodies pierced with various sharp things ranging from straight pins to knives.

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured with an involuntary shiver. "What a nutter."

Harry couldn’t respond. His tongue seemed to be glued to the roof of his mouth, but he was certain every bit of food he’d eaten in his entire life was about to come back up. Harry turned and ran from the room, only stopping when he was outside. He bent over the garden wall and threw up behind the bushes lining the front of the house.

"All right there, Potter? Good work tonight," an Auror said as he passed by.

Harry tried to clear his throat. "F-f-fine."

The man stopped and looked at Harry. "No, you’re not. But it’s understandable. She’s a real nightmare. We have enough evidence to keep her in Azkaban for the rest of her life. She’s done this before, you know."

Harry wondered how many more shocks he could bear. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat again and shook his head. "No, I didn’t know."

"She killed the other girl. We found evidence in there that points to a case we’ve never solved. She killed the man, too. She kept souvenirs of the killings—photos as well as lengths of hair, a man’s ear, the girl’s ring finger."

Harry recoiled in horror, but the man didn’t notice, caught up in excitement over the evidence they’d discovered. "And guess what we found in her aunt’s bedroom?"

Harry swallowed hard and braced himself for more awful news. "No idea."

"Her aunt. Poor old lady’s been dead for months from the look of her."

Harry was shocked into forgetting about the roiling of his stomach for the moment. "Are there many cases like this? Or is this a rare one?"

"Not as rare as you’d think. Some people just fixate on a famous person and then everyone around that person is in danger. Celestina Warbeck had similar problems with stalkers a few years ago."

"How did she handle it?"

"She always has an army of bodyguards around her, didn’t you know?"

Harry shook his head. "How does she have a private life, then?"

"No idea, lad. At any rate, this is one nutter who won’t bother anyone else. Good work tonight."

Harry just nodded, his mind spinning. He felt ill again, but he swallowed the bile rising in his throat.

"Harry? You OK?" Ron said. "I looked everywhere for you. Have you seen the rest of the house?"

"No. Is it worse than what we saw in there?"

"More of the same, really. But her auntie! She’s like a mummy now. Disgusting!"

Harry swallowed again, hoping his stomach would stop rolling soon.

Ron stood beside him and pushed on Harry’s arm, turning Harry’s face to the light. "You look terrible. What’s wrong?"

"Rough night. I, uh, I need to go. Tell the prof for me, OK?"

"Where are you going?"

Harry just Disapparated without a word.

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