Spring had been cold so far this year, which had rendered the progress into April almost imperceptible. The sun had nonetheless become an early riser and a pink glow brightened the horizon over the gloomy city of Destersbridge early this Good Friday morning of Easter.

A tall woman wearing an ankle-length coat appeared out of nowhere in the middle of a street bordered by small, grey buildings. She looked at the numbers of the houses and seemed to scold herself before she set off with determination and in long strides in the dim morning light, along the uphill street. She chose to keep close to the houses on the left side and her gaze flickered constantly back and fro while she simultaneously adroitly avoided to step on bottles and junk on the ground. In her left hand she held a stick that she moved subtly in different directions. At last she stopped in front of a house that in all respects was identical to the adjoining houses, with the number 221 in bleak black numbers on the door. She backed up the stairs and knocked, since there was no bell. She jumped when the door opened more readily than she expected.

Snape stood at the door, wand drawn, peering at Mrs Steadfast with heavy eyelids as if he had just been waken up, although he was dressed in his usual black attire. Mrs Steadfast made a gesture to be allowed to enter, but Snape pointed his wand at her and asked:

“Where in the bookcases in my office at Hogwarts did I, on your demand, pick up a tome to show you the particulars on the side effects from overdosing Relieving Incantations?”

“The third... no... the fourth bookcase from the left, second shelf from the floor. Good to see you up to security measures despite the early hour, Severus. I apologise for intruding on you.” Mrs Steadfast was let inside and, in one gaze, took the small room in.

“Do you sleep in an armchair?” she said, raising one eyebrow as she noticed a blanket thrown aside over an armrest and the glowing remains of a fire still in the fireplace.

“At times,” muttered Snape. “What happened? Shall I come with you?” Mrs Steadfast’s tone was light, but Snape had read her face which was grave.

“Yes, please, I think you’d better. I’m sorry I have to claim you at one of your few days off,” said Mrs Steadfast.

Snape made a gesture as if to say that it was of no importance.

“Do I have time to change? Will there be battle?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think there will be. I need you for advice at my office,” retorted Mrs Steadfast.

“I thought you had found the last Pleasure Temple...” Snape frowned at her.

“Unfortunately, no. This is about something else. I’ll tell you later,” said Mrs Steadfast vaguely.

Snape looked puzzled, but hastened upstairs and came back in less crumpled clothes before they went out.

“It’s not a good idea to go to this area on your own. You must let me check the place before you come here in the future. What if they decide to ambush you?” said Mrs Steadfast as they turned around the corner into the nearby lane.

“It’d be a waste of time - theirs and yours alike. I’m at Spinners End very seldom. And I have my own ways of securing a house. No one’ll get me inside,” answered Snape.

Mrs Steadfast shook her head. She stopped Snape with a hand on his arm before they were to Apparate.

“First, we’re going outside Ottery St Catchpole,” she said. “We need to intercept Mr Weasley when he leaves the Burrow for work. I’ve been told he’s coming in to his office, despite of the holiday. I don’t want him to arrive at the Ministry without being informed...”

“Informed of what?” Snape narrowed his eyes with a flicker of apprehension, for the first time since Mrs Steadfast showed up on his doorstep. “Will you tell me what has happened, Audrey? Why are we to intercept Arthur?”

“Let’s go there first so that we won’t miss him. An early riser, Mr Weasely... Guide me, please - you know the place better than I.” Mrs Steadfast laid a light hand on Snape’s arm and they disappeared from the lane.

They Apparated on the gravelled road that led past the Burrow, just outside the gate from where they could see the green entrance door of the Weasleys’ residence, between the apple trees in buds. Birds were chirping around them with happy intensity and the sun that had risen above the horizon had begun to radiate some warmth. Snape was deaf to the bird song, however, as he turned with a determined expression on Mrs Steadfast.

“Will you tell me, or what?” he said threateningly. Mrs Steadfast sighed and looked down.

“We’re not sure yet what has happened,” she said, “but it looks serious.” She hesitated. ”Do you know of anyone who might be in Paris, right now?”

“In Paris?” repeated Snape, incredulous, and stared dumbfounded at her. She held his gaze steadily while Snape seemed to make an effort. “Mr Burgess has a connection to France if I’m not mistaken,” he said with a frown.

“So he does. He went to Magical School at Beauxbatons,” answered Mrs Steadfast. “But this isn’t about him...”

Snape was at a loss and made an impatient gesture.

“So you didn’t know then, that Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter had left for Paris?” Mrs Steadfast asked cautiously.

Snape looked at her in confusion.

“No, I didn’t…Paris? Why? Surely there’s no need for them to... to elope? Their relation is approved of here...” He gestured at the Burrow. “Potter’s already like a son to the Weasleys… And he doesn’t have a family of his own...” He stared at Mrs Steadfast as if it did not make sense to him. Her mouth twitched the least little bit, but otherwise her face was impassive.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Severus,” she said calmly. ”They haven't eloped. They’re in Paris on an ordinary vacation trip.”

Snape gaped at her until it dawned on him.

“Sanctioned... by you?” he said in a dangerous tone. “And why...?”

“Here comes Mr Weasley. Now, don’t upset him by starting to yell at me,” Mrs Steadfast hissed at him.

Mr Weasley stopped dead when he saw them.

“Mrs Steadfast... and Severus... What...?”  The red-haired, slightly balding man looked faint.

“We don’t know much as it is, Mr Weasley, but there has been an incident in Paris. They’re trying to find out more about it at my office right now. I thought it better to come and meet you so that you wouldn’t arrive at the Ministry and start wondering what all the fuss is about and find out that it might... just might have to do with your daughter.” Mrs Steadfast spoke gently.

“An incident, you say... What kind of...? And they haven’t been in touch!?” Mr Weasley pulled a panicked face that Snape found similar to the expressions Ron Weasley showed in class from time to time. “Molly will kill me if something has happened to them and... and I allowed them to go.”

“In concert with me, Mr Weasley. You’ll blame me,” said Mrs Steadfast firmly. “Moreover, I believe that the death threat from Miss Ginny had you not allowed her to go on that trip, would have been just as imminent as the one your wife might bestow on you for doing the same.”

Mr Weasley acquiesced weakly.

“Now, to answer your question - they’ve not been in contact and that’s what worries us,” continued Mrs Steadfast. ”They’re not at their hotel - we’ve checked that out and they don’t answer the security watches I gave to them.”

“Humph… Potter will simply have decided he wants some personal space and put it away,” snorted Snape. ”He has always been disregarding of other people’s concerns for him and flouted security measures. His own comfort and amusements – it’s all that counts.”

“There might be some truth in what Severus says, Mrs Steadfast, although I wouldn’t put it as harshly. They’re young after all... and might forget to...” Mr Weasley made an exculpating gesture. “I know my daughter, and it’s not unusual for her to stay awake all night... and in Paris... they can be anywhere... She’ll have persuaded Harry to join her at the clubs. The poor boy can’t say no to her. Why, even last summer when he was ill, he tried to the last to comply with her cravings for amusements. Never seen a bloke so much in love... but then she’s Molly’s daughter... They might not have noticed your messages if they were in one of those noisy, sparkling and glittering places, or they might just be on a romantic stroll on their way back to their hotel right now and don’t want to be disturbed, like Severus said.”

“Let’s go to my office and find out some more, shall we?” said Mrs Steadfast noncommittally. Snape looked at her. There was obviously more to it than she let on to Mr Weasley at the moment.

They Apparated into the regulated area of the Entrance Hall at the Ministry and hastened through the wand control. They took the elevator down to the second floor where the Auror office was situated. In a large common room, several people had gathered around a big box that showed flickering images.

“A Muggle televention!” exclaimed Mr Weasley and shone up. “You’ve got hold of one of those. Aren’t they amazing? But the chubby ones are outdated, I believe, in the Muggle world. I try to keep up with their assortment of technical inventions.” He stopped to admire it. The screen showed a man and a woman seated on a pale blue sofa, interviewing a dazed artist who had difficulties keeping his eyes open.

“Was there anything on the six o’clock news?” Mrs Steadfast asked her Aurors who shook their heads.

“Exactly the same as earlier,” one of them answered.

“There will be a new broadcast in fifteen minutes, then we’ll learn some more, perhaps,” said Mrs Steadfast. “Ophelia, no word from the French Ministry of Magic yet?” She turned to a middle-aged, rubicund witch who answered:

“We’re trying to contact the Security Office in Paris, but there’re only clerks in the office this early in the morning. I believe we’ve managed to stir them up, but to drag some information out of them in return is a lie... My French is not what it used to be, and they’re full of bureaucracy...” She gesticulated like she might have been French by birth at least.

“What slow skrewts!” exclaimed Mrs Steadfast. “Don’t they supervise the Muggle world at all? That’s how we were alerted. The Muggle television reported a suspect terrorist attack in a Parisian night club tonight.”

Mr Weasley gave a start.

”But maybe the French security squad prefers to work in silence until they’ve sorted things out,” continued Mrs Steadfast. “It’d be easier, though, if they stopped insisting on formality and started to cooperate instead. Such a waste of time!”

“Fleur...” said Mr Weasley suddenly.

“It means flower,” the witch called Ophelia filled in helpfully.

“She’s my daughter-in-law,” explained Mr Weasley. “She works at the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Married to my eldest son, Bill. I’ll ask her to come over, shall I? She’s French and a very convincing young lady. She might get something out of them. A terrorist attack, you say - do you think that Ginny could be…?”

“Call your daughter-in-law by all means,” interrupted Mrs Steadfast. “Ophelia, assist Mr Weasley and give Mrs Fleur Weasley the means to contact the French Security Office when she arrives.”

Mr Weasley followed Mrs Steadfast’s secretary out of the office and Mrs Steadfast turned to Snape who was looking at her with a deep furrow between his eyebrows. At the television the young sleepy artist performed a song with a pained expression on his face.

“Soundy, did you make a replay of the news this morning?”

“On the desk, in your office, Mrs Steady,” he said. Mrs Steadfast gestured for Snape to follow. An empty frame lay on the dark wooded surface of Mrs Steadfast desk. She suspended it in the air and directed her wand at it as she muttered a spell.

A vertical, compressed slice of a Pensieve appeared inside the frame and as if watched through a window flooded with rain, it showed slightly blurred images of a street filled with vehicles with blinking blue lights. The pavement was crowded with people, some of them lying on the ground, some sitting slumped against the wall of a grey stone building, with other people bent over or kneeling beside them. Their faces showed shock and fear.

“Those images were first broadcasted at four o’clock in the morning on the American Muggle channel which covers world news twenty-four hours a day,” explained Mrs Steadfast. “At three thirty something happened inside this Parisian night club which made people panic and rush out of the building. Several persons were squeezed and trampled in the panic. At first, they thought there was a fire, but it couldn’t be confirmed. There was no smoke although some people spoke of flashes of green lightning...” Snape narrowed his eyes. “At the time the Muggle press got there, the firemen had just started to search the building. Now, watch them come out of the house...” Mrs Steadfast gestured towards the frame.

Snape leaned forward to scrutinise the scene. Two men carrying a stretcher went over to one of the French fire brigade’s vehicles stationed in the street. The stretcher was covered with a light-blue blanket so that you could only see the contours of a body with its face hidden. Remarkably enough, the firemen seemed in no hurry.

“A death,” stated Snape.

“Yes,” confirmed Mrs Steadfast. ”Listen to the American translation of what that firefighter has to say to the reporter.” Mrs Steadfast gave a flicker with her wand and the sound was turned on.

“We’ve found five bodies so far.”

“Are they dead? Burnt or trampled to death?”

“They’re dead, but there’re no visible injuries, no wounds. And there’s no fire inside that building. The corpses were found in a room on the top floor in the club. It’s all very strange. People talk about a fight, with explosions and lightning, but nothing can be seen on these bodies. There’s not one drop of blood. They look like they died in their sleep which, of course, is impossible.”

Snape drew his breath.

“They were killed by Avada Kedavras,” he said and moved closer to Mrs Steadfast. “Now tell me the reason why you don’t believe this is a controversy between members of the French underground wizard society and why you believe Miss Weasley and Mr Potter to be involved,” he said in a tight voice. Mrs Steadfast looked at him gravely and sighed as she confessed.

“I had an Auror trail them. Without their knowledge, of course. You don’t want someone to spy on you when you’re on a romantic week-end in Paris... The French Auror, whom I know personally, reported to my security watch tonight that Ginny and Harry left their hotel at midnight for the Trocadero night club to have a late dinner. That’s the last report I had from him. Since the disaster at the club, the Auror hasn’t answered my repeated summons, nor has Harry or Ginny.” As her words sank in, Snape started to pace the room.

“How on earth could you let them go? Leave the country? With the death threat so clearly pronounced against the boy only a few weeks ago!” Snape raised his voice, his eyes flaring dangerously. Mrs Steadfast remained calm, however.

“He’s not a boy any longer, but a young adult, Severus. And he’s had a tough winter... after a tough summer... He and Miss Ginny had earned some vacations. He did just the right thing - he came to me and asked if it could be arranged. My judgement was that France was as safe, if not safer than England at the moment. He’s not recognised by the public abroad to the same extent as in Britain. He would be left alone. And no one knew the destination of their journey except me, them and Mr Weasley... and Roger of course. Not even Miss Ginny’s brother or his girlfriend, nor Mrs Weasley knew. They were only told the same day they left that Harry and Ginny were going away for a few days.”

Snape stopped pacing and pondered for a few seconds.

“And who’s this... Roger? Do you trust him?” Snape asked aggressively.

“Roger and I worked in the US together for several years. We saved each other’s lives on a number of occasions. I trust him without doubts,” answered Mrs Steadfast.

Snape continued to look at her.

“He’s completely trustworthy,” continued Mrs Steadfast a little impatient. “He would do anything for me. He’s a... personal friend...” she said at last to Snape’s mute insistency. Snape turned away and started to pace back and fro again.

“You said Harry didn’t know about the surveillance. What if he debunked your Auror - this Mr Roger - and decided to get away from him, or worse, to attack him? That might be the explanation why they haven’t been in touch. They’re occupied trying to outwit each other? Don’t think that Potter’s not sharp enough to put up a fight with an Auror. He’s developed a lot this past year and he did after all... you know.” Snape made a vague gesture.

“Kill Lord Voldemort - yes. You usually don’t like to speak of it, do you, Severus? And why won’t you owe your good opinion of his capabilities to Mr Potter’s face? Students appreciate a bit of praise now and again,” retorted Mrs Steadfast sharply.

Snape only grunted in answer.

“If that was the case, Miss Weasley, at least, would have had time to alert me if they thought they were threatened, don’t you think? If they have unmasked Roger, they might feel betrayed by me because I forced an Auror upon them, but they still wouldn’t hurt him, I’m sure, and naturally he’s experienced enough never to hurt them. And Roger would have contacted me, even if Ginny and Harry were too cross to do so. What I’m saying is that it’s been more than five hours since the last report - three hours since the attack at the club. Someone should have been in contact if something had happened between just the three of them. As it is, they’re all silent at the same time. And they entered that building just a few hours before the panic broke out. It’s clearly a bad sign,” said Mrs Steadfast with the least little bit of tremor to her voice.

Snape ran the fingers of one hand through his hair and shook his head, as if he still did not want to take in what she was implying.

Someone knocked at the door. It was time for the six thirty news. Fleur had arrived together with Bill Weasley who stood at his father’s side, eyes riveted at the television screen. He did not even look up to greet Snape or Mrs Steadfast. The Muggle anchorman started with a summary of the most recent news, accompanied by the same images as those broadcasted earlier. 

At three thirty am, panic broke out in one of Paris’ largest night clubs, located between the Champs Elysées and the Eiffel tower. More than one hundred visitors were transported to nearby hospitals with injuries. Most of them had been squeezed or trampled while they tried to make their way out of the club.

The origin of the tumult is unknown. The police are secretive. Witnesses speak of flashes, which would indicate the use of a fire arm, but on the direct question from our reporter, a police officer refutes that there are any traces of illicit arms being used at the club. Le Trocadero Club, which prides itself for its security measures, subordinates their guests to X-rays before entering the club and no weapons will pass, says the security manager, Pierre Fourrier, to our reporter this morning.

Nevertheless, five bodies have been recovered from one of the smaller inner rooms of the club. The bodies are without traces of violence according to a fireman who took part in the rescuing action, and the cause of death is unknown.

What passed in the inner room of the club where the bodies were found is an even greater mystery. Several eye-witnesses give astonishing and strange accounts of what happened.

A doctor we have contacted speculates as to a collective hallucinosis, probably caused by some kind of gas in the room. But which is this unknown gas? Did it kill five people? Is this some kind of exceptional terrorist attack? Listen to Doctor Ian Wallace and to the terrorist expert Nigella Wan who will join the studio at eight o’clock. But first listen to one of the very upset and obviously delirious witnesses that our reporter spoke to tonight.

A young girl with long dark hair appeared on the screen. She wore a silvery necklace and glittering earrings to a sleeveless top. She was shivering and cast scared glances right and left. Someone should give her a blanket and put an arm around her, but the reporter only shoved his microphone forth. The translation text was missing on the screen as the girl looked straight into the camera, her eyes widened with fear and spoke quickly in French. The common room of the Auror department was completely silent.

Then Fleur started to sob. She covered her face with her hands.

“Little Ginny,” she exclaimed. As the newscaster apologised for the missed translation and moved on to another topic, gazes were all turned on Fleur who tried to compose herself under the urging questions from her husband and father-in-law. “Aaaa’ll doo a trrrransla-tioun spell for yoo...” she said. “Mai ack-cent deterrrriorrraitts when I’m upset. ’EEear for yourrr self.”

Soundy brought the Pensieve frame forth again and the magical replay of the broadcast jumped back to the point when the face of the young girl appeared on the screen. The translation spell made her speak in Fleur’s voice. The accent and the emotiveness of Fleur matched the terrified young French girl in a way that made it highly realistic.

I was at the club with two friends. We were partying and having fun when suddenly... But before this started I had noticed a couple who had been dancing in the same room for some time. They were not French... The boy had black hair and the girl was a redhead. She danced beautifully, you see, that’s why I noticed her. A lot of people were attracted by her and wanted to dance around her. But she was with the black-haired guy - that was very clear to me. She only danced close to him. They were beautiful together and were obviously in love...

What happened then was… Oh, it happened so quickly I’m not even sure… But all of a sudden, green lights began to flash. I heard the black-haired boy yell something at his girlfriend. He sounded afraid. The man - if he was a human, he looked so strange - the man who shot the green lightning stood at one end of the room where there was a podium so that he looked down on us... He... he had green hair and makeup in his face that made him look more like an animal than a human... and he was terrifying... At first I thought this was some kind of a show, that it was a party event of the club...  But then people started to scream, because at one corner a man had fallen down as if dead...

The doors of the room were all shut and couldn’t be opened. I don’t know how that could have happened, but the fact was that we were trapped. So people began to crouch and to crawl around the walls. There were more lightning and other people fell. I had the impression that the attacker aimed at the black-haired guy.

I saw him with a stick in his hand and he sort of spurted some light back at the attacker that made the attacker freeze for a while but then... and this is so creepy, no one will believe me... the green-haired guy sort of melted away, slowly… I’m not lying... and appeared at another corner of the scene and now his hair was scarlet and I’m quite sure that his eyes were red as well...

I heard the black-haired guy yell something at his girl about the doors - ’door’ in English that is ’porte’, no? - and... and you won’t believe me, but it’s true… the black-haired guy rose in the air...

The attacker continued to aim at him and the black-haired guy sort of rolled about under the ceiling, in the air, without any support... I can’t imagine how he did that. In the meantime his girlfriend managed to open a door to let people out. She, too, had a stick in her hand. She looked so scared for her boyfriend... I think she wanted to join the fight but he would not let her, he wanted her to evacuate us and keep away.

I don’t know what happened after I got out. The stairs were packed with people who wanted to flee. The elevators didn’t work. I think a fire alarm had been set off and I hardly know how I took myself outside without being trampled to death… I don’t know where my friends are, if they’re hurt… I’ve lost them...

In the common room of the Auror’s office people reacted with dismay and horror. Mr Weasley drew several hacked breaths before he hid his face in his hands as he stifled a wail - “Ginny!” Fleur put her arms around him and sobbed against his shoulder as she repeated:

“Ay’m so sorrrry, Arthur, Ay’m so sorry!” Bill was on his knees by his father’s other side and tried to find comforting words in a stifled voice. Mr Weasley raised his head to meet his son’s eyes.

“Molly!” he said “Your mother won’t survive this, if Ginny’s... if she‘s...”

Snape turned slowly to Mrs Steadfast.

“For seven years - seven years! - I fought together with Albus Dumbledore to keep that boy alive... And now you come... you come... and he just might be...” he whispered at her in a hoarse voice. Mrs Steadfast met his eyes without blinking, although her face was a little pale.

“We don’t know yet how the fight ended,” she said in a steady voice. “Don’t think that I have been trying to undo the work of yourself and Albus Dumbledore on purpose.”

“How can you stay impassive and callous in this situation?” Snape hissed at her, fury twisting his features.

"It’s my job to stay calm, Severus, and I advise you to do the same with regard to them...” She gestured with her head at the three distraught Weasleys. “This could just as well have happened in London. The difference between you and me is that you and your late headmaster were guarding an underage boy that you could toss about like you found fit, whereas I have been trying to protect a grown-up young man with respect to his own wishes. Now, we must endeavour to find out some more. Please Ophelia come, and Mrs Fleur Weasley, please, compose yourself. I need your help.”