Across the Sea

*AN*

I would like to thank my most wonderful beta LydiaCarol. You are helping me do something that I never thought I would be able to do.

Also I would like to add the disclaimer...don\'t own anything but everything you don\'t recognize. JK Rowling owns it all, and I don\'t get a dime. I\'m just having fun!!!



Chapter 1: Disco Ball


The sun had long since set as Eloise settled into her cozy hotel room just outside London. The grand exterior of the older building had shocked her as she came off the tube. The Satin Inn stood out among the many bland buildings that surrounded it. Its many sparkling windows reflected the warm light within eloquently, allowing the emotion of comfort to radiate out to the street. Its pale brick structure was lined with strips of white, and flowers adorned every entrance and exit. Eloise had traveled to more exotic places, but never had she encountered such a grand example of simplistic beauty.
But if she held her breath at the exterior, she fainted from lack of oxygen at the sensuous splendor that awaited her inside. For her room was doused in rich fabrics in shades of red she had never seen before. Her bed was filled with soft, plump pillows wrapped in lengths of expensive Egyptian cotton. Her bathroom was made of white marble with platinum taps that shone and reflected in the large mirror running the length of the counter. But, oh, the most luxurious part of the room was the bathtub itself. It was made of white marble as well, but it was lined with perfect red rose buds too young to be in full bloom, but just old enough to emit the soft scent of an English garden. Eloise was in heaven, and wasted no time filling the large basin with warm water and hints of lavender and myrrh oils.
For hours she had relaxed in her bath, reluctant to leave even after the water had begun to cool. But she knew she had files to look over and faces to learn before her meeting, which was with the Headmaster of some school. So with a sigh she had wrapped herself in the free terrycloth robe and sorted through her suitcase to find just the right files.
It is now we join her, sprawled lazily across her bed enjoying the sweet spirits of good wine and soft music. The papers were spread haphazardly around the bed, each pile representing certain people she was meant to learn about. To her left was the minister, Cornelius Fudge; he was clueless as to her status with the American Wizarding Nation. He believed that she was there to pick up education cues from the renowned English institution that she would be visiting. To the left of that, but still on her right, was the file of Arthur Weasley. He was the head of the Muggle Artifacts office, or something like that. She needed to know the overall climate of the Ministry’s relations with the non-magical peoples of England, and how they compared to the Americans’. She also wanted to see if she could glean any valuable information about the who’s and what’s of the British government.
As if that weren’t enough information to remember, in the center sat a heavy file with documents gleaned as far back as Eloise could remember the AWN existing. This, of course, belonged to one Albus Dumbledore. No sense in remembering all those middle names. I won’t ever use them,’ Eloise had thought to herself as she perused the file. Dumbledore was the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had some clues about the true nature of Eloise’s visit, but only so far as helping the moderate wizards forge bonds with the AWN.
Then there was the oh-so-handsome Lucious Malfoy. He was the pureblood wizard extraordinaire and was believed to have strong ties to the radicals. He had no idea why she was there, but she was meant to leak some information to him. This would help the AWN gather information on the infrastructure of said radical cell.
Then last, but certainly by far the most intriguing, was Severus Snape. He was the potions master at Hogwarts as well as having rumored ties to the radicals and the moderates. Previous agents tailing him successfully had taken pictures of him rendezvousing with both sides of the fence. It was believed he was a free agent and very susceptible to bribes and protection bargains. He was the need-to-know person in this particular case.
From the picture provided, Eloise figured he would be a hard one to crack. He wore an all-black uniform that seemed to match perfectly the ebony color of his lank hair. His face, at least in this picture, was screwed up into the most evil of sneers, the edge of his lips battling with his nose for possession of his face. He seemed to be the typical brooder, the type that said nothing but saw everything. Eloise had run across more than one of these types in her line of work. But this man . . . yes, this man seemed to have a certain something to him. A certain flair for danger that could draw in any woman were she brave enough to get past the exterior.

Eloise remained lost in her papers until her watch beeped eleven at night. She rose from her bed and began searching her suitcase for a suitable dress to wear to her meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore. Damn, I wish they would tell you beforehand so you knew what to freakin’ pack, she thought to herself as she dug through her suitcase. She had to be waiting in the lobby at exactly at 11:30, but at the rate she was going she would be lucky to make an appearance by 12:00!
Finally she decided on a simple white dress that fell to her knees. It was, as she called it, her virgin’s gown. It made her seem younger in years and somewhat pure in body. For it revealed very little, and clung only where a proper woman would allow a dress to cling. Well, there and a few other places, but that was only because she had grown since she had bought it. Sure, she hadn’t become an inch taller . . . but there were other ways to expand oneself. A lazy year spent in the midst of a somewhat happy romance, eating Valentine’s chocolates and indulging in the sweet tastes of his excellent cooking, was just one way to accomplish this.
She sighed at the thought of her chubby Thomas, whistling and singing in the kitchen. He had loved to cook, especially for her; he always said it made him feel good. Like he had “other ways of pleasing a woman than just being a stallion in bed,” he used to say. He always did distort the truth just a little when it came to bed. The food alone would have kept her coming back, but if he hadn’t known how to cook. . . .
Yes, he sucked in the sack. Do you remember that? Intimacy became a chore in the end, she reminded herself. It was time for you to go. You belong here in this room - well actually you belong downstairs in the lobby. Either way, this is what you live for. You don’t belong in a house with a white picket fence, you don’t want 2.5 children, and you want everything you shouldn’t have. This is how you get it.
“A means to an end,” she whispered to her reflection. “This is how I get it.”
Eloise turned quickly from the mirror and set about organizing her papers and room before she went to the lobby. She placed each stack into its folder and concealed the information with the “Abdere” spell. Where once the information about the five men had been, now were computer jargon and maps. Anyone who should happen upon the papers would know nothing of what lay between the words now displayed so plainly. She would destroy the papers in the morning before heading to Hogwarts, but for tonight she needed to keep them close. She still had people to memorize and learn. After all, she thought to herself, it is the seemingly ignorant but truly knowledgeable that are the most dangerous.

He sat in the lobby, the local paper splayed in front of his face. His palms were sweating, and his heart was pounding. Spying wasn’t something Remus Lupin usually did. That was a job for Severus Snape, the lying weasel that he was. However, Dumbledore had asked him to come along, to take note of the woman he was here to meet. She was from the American government, not here to help, simply to learn.
He glanced down at his watch, which now read 11:22 pm; it wouldn’t be long now. Albus was supposed to meet her in the lobby at 11:30 pm. They would talk, finalize her teaching status, and make arrangements for her journey to Hogwarts. Albus thought it best that he try and befriend her, be a friendly ear for her to speak into. “She will need help if she has come to play the game that I think she is intent on playing,” he had said.
Remus tried to look inconspicuous as he gazed over his paper. No one else had entered the lobby, the main entrance bell had not rung, and the elevator remained motionless. With a nervous sigh he turned his attention back to his paper, hoping some small sound would alert him to her arrival.

Eloise had to laugh at the clumsy-looking redhead trying to hide in the hotel restaurant. He was obviously looking for her, and she guessed that the venerable Albus Dumbledore had sent him. The files had indicated that he was far more cunning than he was given credit for. After all, he knew that she was on a mission for information. Not spying per se; no, she was there to learn about the stronghold of their prospective allies, and to strike up negotiations for the arrival of AWN troops. She was the go-between, the person who was meant to be the link that brought the chain together. So it was only rational that Albus would try and glean more information about her than was in the file the AWN had provided him.
Stil,’ she reasoned, he could have found someone far less inconspicuous.
She watched for a while more, taking in all the odd quirks that nervousness brought out of him. It was very endearing to watch this scruffy man try to remain calm. She could tell he so wanted to scream and run out of there. He was looking for the comfort of his mentor, and failing miserably without it. His eyes wide, his pupils dilated as he feigned his perusal of the local newspaper. He looked like a doe-eyed puppy, lost and in need of some comfort. He looked so very sweet, so very homely, so very… . . .
Much like Thomas her mind finished. It’s time for you to get out there, and it won’t do to have you distracted like some teenaged girl on the rebound. Get ahold of yourself’ With that stern thought Eloise steeled her heart and began a purposeful walk towards the center bench of the richly decorated lobby.
She didn’t wait long the bell above the door tinkled its soft silver warning as the door swung open. Eloise looked up to see a brightly dressed man emerging like a disco ball from the darkness. His suit appeared to be made of lime green polyester. His shoes were shiny and unworn; as was the odd hat he had thrown over his white ponytail. His beard was one from the epic tales of Zeus, for it hung almost to the floor. Even without his wizarding robes Eloise knew exactly who he was.
“Headmaster, sir,” Eloise began, her mouth still slightly agape. “It’s so good of you to meet me here on such short notice.”
The old man smiled, and Eloise was drawn to the bright twinkle that emitted from his soft blue eyes. This man was well aged, yes, but he must have been something in his time. She couldn’t help but take notice of the immediate feeling of comfort that seemed to wrap itself around her body. This was a good man, a truly kind soul, and for the first time she almost regretted her reasons for being here.
“E.A.S., I presume,” his voice questioned in tones that were soft, yet strict in their undercurrent.
“Yes sir, Elizabeth Ann Swanson,” Eloise supplied quickly. “I prefer Ann though. Will you join me for some drinks at the bar, sir?”
“I think the a restaurant would be a better place.” He smiled, offering his arm. “ I am in the mood for something sweet.”