appointment that he could refer to.
"Mrs. Hendricks," she beamed, looking like everyone's cookie-baking, jumper-knitting grandmother. "But please call me Nana."
The name rang a quiet, tinkling little bell that wasn't quite loud enough to jog Harry's memory. "How can I be of service?" he asked.
"I've been living in London for a number of years now since my great-grandson was killed. I'd like to go home to Copenhagen, Mr. Potter, but not without my grandson's remains. We have a family plot and I have it in mind to give him a proper burial."
Harry frowned. His date book emerged and he thumbed through it. Bugger. He saw that he was booked until noon, at least. That didn't leave much time to try and coax Ginny out for a mid-morning coffee. "I'm not sure I understand," he replied, still distracted.
She never lost her genial expression. "Well, you have his eyes, you see."
Startled, Harry glanced up. "Come again?"
"You have his eyes," Nana Hendricks patiently repeated. "My Arne was killed in Knockturn Alley five years ago and his eyes were taken. I believe they were entered as evidence in the prosecution of his murderer?"
Recollection swarmed like a flood. Harry removed his glasses and blinked at the stooped old woman, noting for the first time that she had one blue eye and one green eye, rendered slightly cloudy from age. He realized he was staring.
"That was you! You were the Fida Mia practitioner that put the spell on Malfoy and Hermione!"
"I do not cast Fida Mia, young man," she corrected. "I merely allowed for it to take place."
Harry was floored. "I know the case, but I wasn't working with the Ministry at the time it occurred."
"Oh, I am aware of that," she nodded. "I could have made my appointment with the person who was in charge, but I thought you might be able to expedite the situation now given your personal involvement with the case?"
There was a glint of pleading in those old eyes.
Using Floo Fire, Harry summoned the appropriate staff member, which happened to be Zacharias Smith. Smith was less than pleased to be sent to the other end of the Ministry, to trawl through five years worth of evidence to locate the item in question, but Harry had a knack for persuasion.
"They're back together, you know. Malfoy and my friend, Hermione," he told Nana Hendricks, while they waited.
She didn't seem surprised. "I considered myself just about retired from the moment my boy was killed. I had not the heart, nor the will to keep going without my dear Arne. It was fitting that our last job together was on that particular young couple. It turned out to be true Fida Mia. Can't guarantee that happens very often." She beamed at him, her face a sea of wrinkles. "Ending on a high note, you see? The young man and his lady, they are still acquaintances of yours, are they not?"
"Friends," Harry corrected. "What do you mean when you say there isn't a guarantee that Fida Mia happens often?"
"Not all love is the same, Mr. Potter. It is like that old Muggle saying, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't force it to drink, yes? Hearts and minds are stubborn things sometimes. Souls on the other hand, well now, they tend to know what's what."
A heavy, dull feeling settled at the bottom of Harry's stomach. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to apologize to Ginny
Almost as if she was reading his mind. The old woman's milky gaze lowered to Harry's desk, where a picture of Ginny was currently scowling at him with her arms folded.
"Wife?" Nana Hendricks asked.
"Er, no. Girlfriend."
She reached into her carpet bag and rummaged for a while. Out came a walking stick, a copper kettle and what looked to be a set of steak knives. She eventually drew out a slightly scrunched up business card, with a pleased "ah, there you are," and smoothed it out before handing it to Harry.
The bright purple text was a series of squirming squiggles. They only started to take shape into words once the translation spell imbued into the card recognized the need to display the text in Harry's native English.
Tired of the same, old 'I do' s' ?Looking for something private, meaningful and permanent?
Why not try a Marriage Tattoo?
Ask for Nana at the Snake & Stone,
Knockturn Alley, Magical London.
Free souvenir mug for the month of May!
Permanent, alright, thought Harry, clearing his throat. His memories of the trials and tribulation of Hermione's personal experience