Harry Potter and the Nameless Man by Brennus
Summary: Newly appointed probationary Auror Ginny Weasley wanted to do something more meaningful with her life than just play Quidditch. Newly promoted Assistant Head Auror Harry Potter has problems, not least of all that his ex-girlfriend has just moved in with another man. When a pure-blood hunting serial killer suddenly appears, will the Departments latest recruit be a help or a distraction for him?
Rating: R
Categories: Alternate Universe
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2013.05.28
Updated: 2013.07.04
Index
Chapter 1: Chapter 1 – Beginnings and Endings
Chapter 2: Chapter 2 – In at the Deep End
Chapter 3: Chapter 3 – From Hell
Chapter 4: Chapter 4 – Descent
Chapter 5: Chapter 5 – Misdirection
Chapter 6: Chapter 6 – I Have No Name
Chapter 7: Chapter 7 – Pressure and Distractions
Chapter 8: Chapter 8 – The Hands of a Healer
Chapter 9: Chapter 9 – Matters of the Heart
Chapter 10: Chapter 10 – Blood and Passion
Chapter 11: Chapter 11 – Through Gardens of Grief
Chapter 12: Chapter 12 – Come Into My Parlour…
Chapter 13: Chapter 13 – Family is Everything
Chapter 1: Chapter 1 – Beginnings and Endings
Author's Notes: Hello and welcome to the latest Brennus creation. I had intended to have a bit of a gap between ending ‘Butterfly Effect…’ and posting this, but I’d just miss you guys too much (hey, I’m happy to suck up to my readers).
The set-up for this is not too dissimilar to my first story ‘The List’. Harry never attended Hogwarts (I’m starting to sound like Dobby, aren’t I? ‘Harry Potter must NOT go to Hogwarts!’) and at the start of the story has never met the Weasleys. Ginny’s history is pretty much similar to canon, other than she quickly became disillusioned with professional Quidditch and wants to do something meaningful with her life.
Yes, Susan Bones does feature heavily in this story and there is a bit of a love-triangle thing going on. I promise, however, that the story is 100% SIYE compliant in terms of relationships, which hopefully will prevent potterfan 2008 from hunting me down and beating the $&%£ out of me (no multiple pairings, Sharon, I promise!).
I’ve given this the traditional Brennus ‘R’ rating, although most of the sex and violence is largely implied rather than graphically detailed. I don’t want the Archivists hunting me down and beating the $&%£ out of me, either.
Huge thanks to Arnel for her wonderful beta work and for suggesting some nice little details that I would have otherwise missed. She definitely knows the layout of the Ministry of Magic better than I.
And with that, I bid you welcome to my little tale of sex, serial killers and raspberry flavoured vodka.
Six days. He’d been in this house six days now without ever stepping a foot outside the door. In here he was safe. It was a place of happy memories and welcome solitude. Outside was only pain and people clamouring to talk to him. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?
He drained the last drop from his glass of Firewhisky. Hazily, he tried to remember when he had had started drinking, but couldn’t recall. The curtains were drawn and he had lost all track of night and day. Unfortunately, no matter how much fine, aged whisky he consumed, he remained disgustingly sober. The alcohol didn’t seem able to penetrate through his misery.
Had it really only been six days since he’d finally defeated Voldemort? The image of the Dark Lord’s own Killing Curse rebounding and cutting the evil bastard down was fresh in his mind. If he’d know that his dear friend Remus was lying dead nearby, he would have tried to make Voldemort suffer. Old snake features had definitely died too quickly and cleanly.
Finding Remus’s body had shattered him. The man had been like an uncle to him, not to mention his favourite teacher. Remus had taught him his very first spell when he was just ten years old. Now his dear friend was gone and he was alone.
The fucking war had cost him every single person he loved: Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore, Andromeda, Sirius…
Sirius had been the greatest loss to him. Ever since the man had rescued him from his abusive Aunt and Uncle, he had become his substitute father. Maybe father was the wrong word; perhaps older brother? Favourite uncle? Best friend? In truth, his godfather had been all of those things and more. Sirius had died a month before the final battle, and only pure hate and a burning desire for vengeance had kept Harry going. Now that his blood-lust had been satisfied, he felt empty.
Suddenly, the Floo set in the far wall activated and cast a pale green light around the room. He frowned; very few people had Floo access to Grimmauld Place and most of them were dead. He would have grabbed his wand and prepared to defend himself, but he wasn’t sure he cared if the visitor was hostile or not.
In the end, it turned out the visitor was a friend; Kingsley Shacklebolt. The big man squinted in the gloom and eventually saw him sitting motionless in an armchair. Kingsley approached him with a grim expression on his face.
“Still alive, then?” Kingsley enquired gruffly.
“Just about,” Harry replied. “So what brings the newly appointed Minister for Magic to my humble abode?”
“Checking up on you,” Kingsley admitted. “No one has seen sight nor sound of you for nearly a week. You vanished with barely a word to anyone. Damn it, Harry, I’ve been worried about you!”
“Sorry,” he replied simply.
Kingsley snorted at the inadequate response and moved closer. He reached over and picked up the quarter full bottle of Firewhisky from the small table positioned next to Harry’s chair.
“I see I don’t have to ask what you’ve been doing with your time anyway,” Kingsley noted disapprovingly.
He pulled out his wand and conjured another glass into which he poured a liberal quantity of the golden liquid. He knocked it back and shuddered.
“Good stuff,” he noted. “I should get some of that for the next time my cauldron needs cleaning. You missed Remus’s funeral, you know.”
Harry stiffened at the sudden change in topic. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“Yeah, I know,” he admitted. “I just couldn’t face it. Besides, the press were bound to be there. It would have just ended up turning into a circus.”
“Ever heard of Glamour Charms?” Kingsley asked sarcastically. “Or what about that wonderful Invisibility Cloak of yours? Remus deserved for you to say goodbye to him, Harry.”
“DESERVED!” Harry yelled. “I’ll tell you what Remus deserved! He deserved to have never been bitten by Fenrir Greyback! He deserved to be respected throughout his life. He deserved to be with Tonks and have loads of children!”
“That wasn’t what I meant and you know it!” Kingsley shot back. “What would Remus have thought of you locking yourself away in here? What would Sirius have said? And don’t even get me started about what Andromeda would have to say about you sitting here wallowing in pity.”
Despite himself a small smile appeared on Harry’s face. “She wouldn’t have said anything. She would just have clipped me round the head and dragged me out by my ear.”
“Exactly,” Kingsley chuckled. “That was one witch I would never have wanted to cross. Ted was a brave man.”
“Yeah, in more ways than one,” Harry agreed. Andromeda’s husband had fought like a lion when their family home had been attacked by Death Eaters. It hadn’t been enough though, and both of them had perished. It had devastated poor Tonks.
“So, what are you going to do with yourself?” Kingsley asked. “You can’t just sit around here all day drinking.”
“Why not?” Harry snapped automatically.
“Because Sirius wouldn’t want you to,” Kingsley said simply.
It was an argument that Harry couldn’t refute.
For a second, Harry paused. What did he want to do? Although he didn’t want for money, he would probably go insane sitting here by himself. He’d previously thought that he would like to do some traveling, but did he want to do that alone? He’d always imagined Sirius or Remus would be with him if he did that. Doing it by himself just didn’t feel right.
The truth was there was little he could do. He’d spent years of his life training to defeat Voldemort and little else. Unless Kingsley had another Dark Lord stuffed up his sleeve, Harry had effectively made himself unemployed.
“I don’t know what I want to do,” Harry admitted after a while. “Hell, what can I do? All I know is fighting Death Eaters and battling Dark Lords. Those aren’t exactly skills that will be in much demand anymore.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Kingsley with a big smile. “In fact, I’d like to make you a job offer. A job I think you’ll be uniquely qualified for.”
“You want me to work for the Ministry?” Harry asked in surprise before a thought occurred to him. “Oh, no. I’m not taking a position on the Wizengamot! That bunch of old tossers can get…”
Kingsley interrupted him. “No, Harry. I wouldn’t inflict that on you. Certainly not when you’re only eighteen. No, I was rather thinking you’d make a good Auror.”
“An Auror?” Harry gasped. “But they were practically a wing of the Death Eaters by the end of the war. There can’t be anyone trustworthy left in their ranks, can there?”
“A handful,” Kingsley admitted. “Which is one of the reasons I want you there. I want to rebuild the Auror Department from the ground up. New people, new training regimes, new codes of conduct; these are all things you can help with, Harry. I’ve appointed Gawain Robards as the new Head Auror and he will need all the help he can get. Now, I admit it would go a long way in giving the public confidence in the Aurors again if it’s announced you’re joining them, but I swear that’s not my main motivation for offering you this job. You would be a natural, my friend. This practically what you have trained your whole life to do!”
“And suppose I don’t want to do it anymore?” Harry objected. “Suppose I’m fed up fighting dark wizards?”
“Harry,” Kingsley said solemnly. “There are still a lot of Death Eaters out there who have evaded capture so far. Could you rest knowing they were free? This new government is still on shaky foundations and is vulnerable. We have a chance to really make a difference and change the Wizarding world forever. We can break down the old blood prejudices and build a fairer society. But we can only do that if the extremists are dealt with first. You can help do that, Harry.”
Harry stared at his friend for a moment. It was true; he hated the idea of any of the Death Eaters escaping justice. Kingsley was a good man, and Harry was sure he could do great things if he was given the chance. But an Auror? Throughout the war they had either been a hindrance or at the end virtual enemies. But this was a chance to help change them into what they should have been in the first place: an effective force against dark magic users.
Harry sighed as a reality hit him. What the hell else was he going to do?
“When do you want me to start?” he asked.
Kingsley grinned in triumph.
Five years later: May 2004
“…so be sure to keep an eye out for anything like that. Right, everyone has their assignments, so if there are no further questions you’re all dismissed.”
Harry watched the twenty or so Aurors stand and start to make their way out of the briefing room. He eyed them enviously knowing they would all be heading out to investigate their assigned cases while he, the newly appointed Assistant Head Auror, faced an exciting morning reviewing training schedules.
He had started to gather up his notes from that morning’s briefing when he noticed someone approach him. He turned and looked at the nervous face of Susan Bones.
“Harry, can we have a quick chat?” she asked.
“Of course, Susan. Is there a problem with your team?” he asked.
“No, nothing like that,” she assured him quickly. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something more… personal.”
“I don’t think this is quite the time for…” Harry began stiffly, but Susan interrupted him.
“Well, when will it be time? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks,” she snapped. “Damn it, Harry, I thought we were still friends?”
Harry wilted. “Of course we are, Susan. You’re about my closest friend in the world. I’ve just been busy what with the promotion and stuff. I haven’t meant to ignore you.”
“Yes, you have,” Susan disagreed, “and we both know why.”
“Susan…” Harry began.
“Ernie’s asked me to move in with him and I’ve said yes,” Susan blurted before he could say anything further.
Harry just about managed to remain expressionless. It wasn’t as if Susan’s announcement was unexpected. She’d been hinting that the relationship had been getting serious for weeks.
“This really has nothing to do with me, Susan,” Harry objected. He sounded lame even to his own ears.
“Cut the crap, Harry. We both know each other too well to pretend this means nothing,” Susan said aggressively.
“It does mean nothing,” Harry replied with sadness in his voice. “We’ve both moved on.”
“Have we, Harry?” Susan asked. “Because I’m not sure you have. Have you been on a single date in the last six months?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean anything,” he objected. “You know how hard it is for me to meet decent, normal witches. I’m damned if I’m going to start dating some Potter groupie just to satisfy your match-making instincts.”
“Oh, Harry, there are plenty of nice, normal witches right under your nose. Not all of them are obsessive fan-girls, you know. What about that girl from the Legal Department you talked to the other month? She was lovely and you practically ignored her,” Susan pointed out.
“She was a bit plain,” he said snippily.
“Plain?” Susan repeated in disbelief. “I nearly wanted to shag her, and you know I’ll never bat for the other side.”
Harry remained silent. Susan walked forward and wrapped her arms around him.
“Harry, we tried our best, but it just didn’t work out. For both our sakes, you’ve got to let me go,” she begged.
“I have,” Harry objected. “I know we had our chance and we blew it. I’m fully aware you’re with Ernie now, and I realise nothing can happen between us.”
“Do you?” Susan questioned. “It did once before.”
“You’d been going out with him for two weeks!” Harry argued. “You weren’t even really a couple at that point.”
“And neither were we,” Susan pointed out. “We still ended up in bed together though, didn’t we?”
“We were both stressed and not to mention a bit drunk!” Harry shot back. “We were under a lot of pressure and just needed to blow off some steam.”
“But that’s the problem,” she said in an exasperated voice. “It’s why we failed so miserably as a couple. We’re both messed up, Harry. Neither has any family left, we both work our socks off, and we both have trust issues! And what happens when it all gets too much? We get drunk and we shag like bunnies! Well, I can’t live like that anymore. I have a chance of a real, proper, grown-up relationship and I can’t give that up!”
“I’m not asking you to!” Harry said, raising his voice. “I do remember how horrible we were together, you know.”
“But you still haven’t given up hope we’ll work it out, have you?” she asked quietly. Fuelled by Harry’s silence she continued. “Look, Harry, you know I love you to bits and I’ll always be there for you. We’ve been through too much together to give that up. But I can’t live my life hoping we’ll sort out our problems and suddenly be the perfect couple; it’s just not going to happen.”
She walked a few steps away from Harry and perched herself on the edge of a table. A determined look came on her face.
“Let’s face facts, Harry. Our personal relationship was based primarily on mutual dependency issues and great sex. We both still have a strong physical attraction to each other and out in the field we trust each other with our lives. But a marriage needs more than that.”
“Are you going to marry Macmillan?” Harry asked quickly. He bit his lip as he realised he had just proved Susan’s point with his panicky question.
“Maybe,” Susan admitted calmly. “This is why we are trying living together for a while; to see if we’re ready for the next step. But I just feel that there’s this huge shadow over my relationship with Ernie. And that shadow is you, Harry.”
He looked at Susan in shock, not quite understanding what she wanted from him. She must have recognised his questioning look.
“I want you to promise me, Harry, that nothing will happen between us again. I want you to promise to let me go,” she asked. “Please do this for me, Harry. If you don’t… well, I’m going to have to distance myself from you. I don’t want to give up my best friend. Please, just promise.”
There was a long pause.
“I promise,” Harry said eventually. What choice did he have?
“Thank you, Harry,” she said, sounding relieved. She moved forward and kissed him on the cheek. “This really does mean a lot to me. I’ll see you later.”
And with that, she turned and walked out the briefing room, quietly closing the door behind her.
Harry watched her go with a sinking feeling. If he was truthful, he’d largely been trying to ignore Susan’s blossoming relationship with her old school friend. He’d hoped if he continued to ignore it, it might go away. But it hadn’t.
For a moment, he wanted to scream in frustration. Susan had been right; they had made a miserable couple. The three months she had spent living at Grimmauld Place had been a disaster. Somehow they had managed to come out of the other side of it still friends, but with a depressing realisation that they couldn’t live together. Oh, they could get drunk together down the pub every Friday night, no problem. They could rip each other’s clothes off and screw on his kitchen table, fantastic! But when it simply came down being a normal, loving couple: crash and burn!
But Susan knew him too well. By making him promise to let her go she’d known that he would cut his own arm off rather than submit to temptation; even if it was her who did the submitting. She’d tapped into that massive streak of self-sacrifice that he had, and forced him to bite the bullet.
He picked up his discarded notes and headed back to his office with his heart breaking.
Four months later: September 2004
Ginny Weasley cautiously entered the busy office. After over two years of training, she was finally a qualified Auror, if only a probationary one.
She was surprised at just how nervous she was. When she had abandoned a promising career playing professional Quidditch to join the Aurors it had seemed the right thing to do, despite what most of her family thought. Now, standing in the doorway of the bustling main office of the Auror Department, she was plagued by doubts and fears.
Deciding that dawdling wasn’t going to help, she squared her shoulders and marched into the room. Ginny immediately started looking for her new boss. After graduation last week, she had been informed she would initially join the team of someone she knew from school, which had come as a massive relief. Ginny hadn’t been particularly good friends with the woman or anything, they’d been in different years; but she knew her new team leader was a good person.
She’d walked about halfway across the office when she spotted a familiar head of strawberry-blond hair. She hurried over to the desk the person was sat at.
“Senior Auror Bones?” Ginny said, announcing her presence. “Auror Weasley reporting for duty.”
Susan Bones looked up and instantly smiled. “Ginny! Good to see you again. It’s been years since I saw you last. Take a seat.”
Ginny sat herself down in the chair indicated and breathed a sigh of relief at the warm welcome. First days were always hard, no matter what job you started.
“I must say, I was amazed when I heard you’d joined the Aurors,” Susan confided. “I couldn’t believe you’d give up a career playing Quidditch. You were mad on the sport at school, as I remember.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be,” Ginny replied, a little regretfully. “I loved playing the game, but all the other stuff around it was just a pain. Besides, I wanted to do something worthwhile, not just play a sport.”
“Very commendable,” Susan said. “Well, welcome to the team. Unfortunately, the other two are out on assignment at the moment, so I can’t introduce you. There’s supposed to be six in a team, but with all the Ministry cuts going on, we’re understaffed. Another pair of hands is very welcome, trust me.”
“I’ll do my best,” Ginny promised.
“Excellent. The plan is that you’ll partner me for the first two weeks, so I can assess you and bring you up to speed on operational procedure. The training academy has some strange ideas on how we do things in the real world, but we’ll soon have you broken in.” Susan paused to grab a stack of files that had been perched on the side of her desk. “To ease you in gently, I thought we’d start by going over some case files. It’s the best way to get an idea on how we handle investigations and how you’ll be expected to approach things.”
“Great,” said Ginny brightly. “I was kind of worried about being dropped in at the deep end.”
“As if we’d be so cruel,” Susan assured her. “Oh, hang on a tick. There’s someone I need to speak to. Back in a sec.”
And with that Susan grabbed a blue folder off her desk and scampered off. With idle curiosity Ginny watched her hurry across the office to intercept a dark-haired man who was walking towards the Senior Staff offices located on the far side of the room. Suddenly, Ginny’s eyes went wide and her heart nearly stopped.
It was him.
Since she’d been a little girl, Ginny had followed the exploits of the famous ‘Boy-Who-Lived’. She’d collected anything she could about him and even had a scrapbook filled with press articles about his exploits. She’d nearly burst with joy when she’d heard that he had finally defeated his arch enemy, the Dark Lord Voldemort. This, however, was the first time she’d ever seen the legendary Harry Potter in the flesh.
Despite what the press might have said, he wasn’t ten feet tall, after all. Her brother Ron would tower over him if they stood together. His messy black hair gave him wind swept look that she couldn’t decide if was the result of a massive amount of hair products or was just natural. His trademark round-framed glasses give a slightly studious look.
She couldn’t deny he was handsome, however. His thin, slightly angular features and sharp cheek-bones made him look more like a rock-star than a law enforcement officer. The pictures in the papers definitely didn’t do him justice.
As Susan talked with the man, she must have said something which amused him as a wide, lop-sided grin appeared on his face. Damn it, that’s one sexy smile, Ginny thought.
Potter accepted the file from Susan and continued on his way towards his office. Susan turned to head back and noticed Ginny staring in their direction. Blushing red, Ginny quickly looked down at the report in front of her, embarrassed at being caught gazing at her idol. A second later Susan sat back down in her seat.
“He hates being stared at like that, you know,” Susan said quietly.
“What? I wasn’t staring,” Ginny lied.
“Sorry, Ginny. I’ve seen that look on too many young witches’ faces before. You can’t fool me,” Susan said, not unkindly. “But a little bit of advice. You’re an Auror now. You’re part of a small and highly professional team. If you start standing around gazing at Harry with puppy dog eyes and sighing, you’ll end up getting kicked out double time.”
“I won’t!” Ginny snapped. Talking a deep breath, she tried to justify herself. “Look, the bloke is a complete legend, right? I’ve been reading stories about him since I was a little girl. Hell, even in the training school everybody talked about him. That was the first time I’d ever seen Harry Potter in the flesh; you can’t blame me for staring a bit.”
“I don’t,” Susan conceded. “But get it out of your system — fast! Harry is one hundred per cent professional. He’s here to do a job and he’ll expect you to do the same. Look, I bet most of what you’ve read about him is pure griffin shit anyway. Harry is a damn fine Auror, a good boss and a bloody nice bloke. If you want to impress him just do your job well. If you meet him socially, just be yourself and treat him like any other of your colleagues. Trust me, you start acting like a Potter groupie and you’ll be out of here so fast your feet won’t touch the ground.”
“Okay,” Ginny agreed, a little sullenly.
“Good,” Susan said smiling at the younger witch. “Look, don’t worry about it. We’re a small department and you’ll meet Harry soon enough. You’ll see for yourself he’s just a regular bloke most of the time. He’s been a good friend to me and many others here. You earn his trust and I guarantee there’s nothing he won’t do for you. Okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” Ginny said smiling. “Sorry if I came over as a bit of a fan-girl.”
“No worries, Ginny,” Susan replied brightly. “Let’s crack on with these case files.”
The rest of the morning was spent working through the pile of files that Susan had provided. Ginny could immediately see that the way the Aurors did things was very different from the ways she had been taught in training school. Susan had assured her not to worry about it, justifying that you had to know the rules in order to find short-cuts round them. If the Aurors in the field did everything the training school way they would spend so much time doing paperwork they would never leave the office.
Ginny’s earlier feelings of gratitude that she had been assigned to a familiar face grew throughout the morning. Susan clearly knew her stuff and was an excellent teacher. All of Ginny’s questions were answered patiently, and she began to feel at ease in her surroundings.
Come lunch-time, Susan grabbed Ginny and announced they were going to the Ministry canteen. This, apparently, was not only so they could get something to eat but so they could catch up on some gossip.
The canteen was a huge room on the eighth floor that catered to the entire Ministry. Susan strongly advised Ginny to avoid any of the cooked meals and stick with sandwiches or salads. Looking at the sludgy mess that was being spooned onto various people’s plates, Ginny couldn’t help but feel that was probably good advice.
The two witches made their purchases and found a small table against the far wall to sit at. Ginny unwrapped her tuna baguette and began to eat ravenously while Susan nibbled on her ham and tomato sandwich rather more sedately.
“So, tell me more about your Quidditch career,” Susan prompted. “You sounded pretty disillusioned by the whole thing.”
“I guess I was,” Ginny admitted between mouthfuls. “I mean, I loved playing the actual game, but training was pretty dull. And of course there was all the other crap you had to deal with; obsessive fans, legal contracts, press interviews. For the short while I actually got to spend playing the game it didn’t seem worth it.”
“Still, it’s a lot to give up. I mean, if you broke into the first team you’d have been made for life. Money, fame, travel; surely that would have been worth putting up with the other crap, wouldn’t it?” Susan questioned.
“I don’t know,” Ginny admitted. “I just wasn’t enjoying myself. I really didn’t get on with most of the other Harpies and the whole thing felt like a pantomime at times. Besides, after the war I wanted to do something useful, you know?”
“Sure,” Susan agreed. “As soon as I left Hogwarts I didn’t want to do anything other than be an Auror. But what was wrong with the other Harpies? Why didn’t you get on with them?”
“Oh, they had this thing about being wild party girls and that just wasn’t me,” Ginny snorted with disgust. “Some of the things those girls got up to would make your hair stand on end. There were always groups of blokes hanging round the training ground because they knew certain girls on the team liked to pick a different fan to shag every night. I’ve never seen such a bunch slags in my life. And if you didn’t act like the rest of them, they’d get really bitchy. I mean nasty. And don’t get me started on the egos those girls had. If I’d started acting like the prima-donnas they all were, my family would have disowned me.”
Susan laughed. “Sounds like you’re well out of it, Ginny. But couldn’t you have just gone to another team?”
“Nah, they were pretty much all the same, except I would have had the male players expecting me to sleep with them as well,” Ginny explained. “Besides, once you get into the whole thing you start to realise how plastic it all was. I played at school for the love of the game. Professionally, it’s all just all about the money.”
“Never mind, I think you did the right thing becoming an Auror,” Susan sympathised.
“Thanks, now can you convince my family of that?” Ginny lamented.
“Sorry, that’s your problem, Gin,” Susan grinned. “Anyway, change of subject. Anyone special in your life? Any handsome hunks keeping you company?”
“I wish,” Ginny scoffed. “The last steady boyfriend I had was Dean Thomas back at Hogwarts; remember him? I dated a few blokes during my time with the Harpies, but they were just idiots. Believe me, Susan; nice blokes do not hang round Quidditch grounds. Since then I’ve just been too busy. Of course, my mum is now convinced I’ll die a spinster. How about you?”
“Do you remember Ernie Macmillan from school? He was in my year, blond hair, was in Hufflepuff?” Susan asked. “Well, we’ve been together for a while now. We’re sharing a house over in Hammersmith.”
“Yeah, I remember him. Nice bloke,” Ginny replied. She’d actually thought him rather pompous and full of himself, but she’d heard a few people say he was alright when you got to know him. She was more shocked that Susan had admitted she was living with him. Susan had always seemed rather straight-laced to Ginny, and this seemed a bit out of character for her.
“He is. He’s doing really well as a Legal Wizard in a top law firm,” Susan said happily before her smile faded. “He keeps hinting about marriage, but I’m happy with the way things are at present. I just want to take things slowly.”
“Why? Not sure he’s ‘the one’?” Ginny asked.
“Well, not so much that. I really love Ernie, I really do. But let’s just say that my previous relationship got very messy. I don’t want things to fall apart like they did then,” Susan said. She looked like she was reliving unhappy memories.
“Sounds like you have a rough time of it,” Ginny said sympathetically. “Was this other bloke a bit of a bastard, then?”
“What? No, oh Merlin, no,” Susan replied hastily. “No, he was the sweetest guy in the world, but he had problems. Well, to be truthful we both had problems at the time, and in the end I guess we just weren’t right for each other.”
Susan seemed suddenly depressed and Ginny guessed that the break-up must have been hard on her new friend.
“With the best will in the world, sometimes things just don’t work out,” Ginny said understandingly.
“Yeah, I guess. Never mind, we’re still good friends and besides, the sex was fantastic,” Susan said winking at Ginny.
“Maybe you should have joined Harpies,” Ginny joked. Susan had most definitely changed!
“Nah, I’m a one wizard witch, me,” Susan replied with a laugh. “Come on, Gin. Time to head back to work. I must say, it’s great to have another witch to have a good natter with. There is another female on the team, but she’s a bit of a gossip. I always expect anything I say to get repeated around the office. It’s good to have you here.”
“Thanks, Susan,” Ginny replied happily. “It’s great to be here.”
The two witches returned to the Aurors office and picked up where they had left off. Susan continued to work through the case files with Ginny in a relaxed manner, and there was much joking between the pair of them. Ginny was becoming convinced that the two of them would end up becoming great friends.
It was around half-past two that the casual atmosphere in the office was suddenly shattered. Without warning, a loud ringing sound caused every person in the room to look up in surprise. Ginny thought she recognised what the alarm meant as it had been talked about in training, but she was amazed to hear it then.
“Susan,” Ginny said hesitantly, “isn’t that…”
“An all available Auror alert,” Susan confirmed. “There hasn’t been one of those since the war!”
All around her Ginny could see wizards and witches struggling to get their robes on or scrambling to pick up their gear. Without thinking she leapt from her seat and did the same. Susan already had her robes on and was rooting through her desk in search of something. Their attention was the diverted by a loud voice coming from the far end of the office.
“Everyone, get your gear together; NOW!” yelled the voice.
Ginny looked up and saw Harry Potter striding down the room in his Auror robes with an expression like thunder on his face. When he reached the middle of the room he stopped.
“Okay, listen up,” he yelled again. “We have an emergency situation. I want all available Aurors to be at the Apparation point in five minutes where I’ll give you a snap briefing. Bring all your combat gear; things are going to get hot.”
Ginny gulped. So much for not being thrown in at the deep end
Chapter 2: Chapter 2 – In at the Deep End
Author's Notes: Thanks for all the reviews and messages I’ve received regarding this story. I’m glad the first chapter was so well received and I hope everyone continues to enjoy it.
In this chapter, Ginny learns exactly what it means to be an Auror, both on and off duty. We also will see a bit more of the contradiction that is Susan Bones; I’ve given a lot of thought to how this character will be acting, so any strange behaviour on her part will be completely intentional.
We also get to meet a new character at the end of the chapter and I intend to keep everyone guessing about who he truly is.
Huge thanks to Arnel for her beta work on this chapter. I seemed to make a lot of stupid mistakes with this one; I’m backsliding again!
Ginny stood nervously in the large room that served as the main Apparition point for the Aurors. A number of Floo entry points were set against the far wall, but they would not be needed today. Susan Bones stood next to her and was looking intently at the black-haired man who had just marched into the centre of the room.
The room was instantly silent as Potter arrived. A second later, another man whom Ginny recognised as Gawain Robards, the Head Auror, joined him. She could hear Susan muttering darkly beside her, and guessed that Robards’ presence did not bode well. A couple of other men wearing DMLE robes and carrying bags had accompanied the Head Auror, and were now standing behind him trying to look inconspicuous.
“Okay, listen up,” Potter called. “Over the last two months an undercover team from the DMLE has been trying to infiltrate a group of wizards who have been attempting to set up a crime syndicate right here in the UK. As it was previously believed this group was composed of career criminals, this was of course designated a DMLE operation. However, we have now learnt the identity of the ringleaders and it appears the group is primarily composed of an old Snatcher group from the war. This has therefore become an Auror operation.”
There was an outbreak of muttering around the room.
“In addition,” Potter continued, “we have now received positive intelligence that the group includes Titus Parkinson…”
There were several loud exclamations at this information.
“QUIET!” Potter roared. “That’s right; the last Death Eater to escape capture. Quite a few of the ex-Snatchers are on our ‘most wanted’ board, as well. It looks like we have a chance to bag the lot of them. Just over an hour ago we received a tip-off that the entire criminal group had gathered at a remote farm in Lincolnshire. We will therefore be mounting a snap operation with a view to surrounding the farm and capturing the entire group.”
There were a lot of excited faces in the room now, Ginny noticed.
“The DMLE staff here has created a series of Portkeys for the operation. They are set to deliver us in a circular pattern around the farm. Team Four; I’ve designated you to erect the anti-Portkey and Apparation wards as soon as we arrive. That okay, Bobbie?”
A grey-haired wizard gave Harry the thumbs-up and immediately pulled several people into a huddle. Ginny assumed these must be the remaining members of Team Four.
“Be warned; this group is extremely dangerous and are very likely to resist arrest,” Potter cautioned. “Expect this to be an insertion into a hostile environment, so I want each team to have shields in place the second you arrive.”
“This is likely to be out most important operation since the war,” Robards announced, taking over the briefing. “Make no mistake, this is a nasty bunch, so don’t take any unnecessary risks. Get in there, take the suspects down and bring me back some nice presents!”
There was some forced laughter at the Head Auror’s words.
“Right, Team leaders, come forwards and get your Portkeys from the DMLE staff,” Potter said. “I’ll be Senior Auror on site and will have overall command of the operation. Anyone got any questions?”
“Harry,” Susan called out. “Most of my team are out on a surveillance task. Where do you want me?”
Potter walked over to her while glancing around the room.
“Arwen isn’t here so you can take over her team,” he informed Susan before his gaze fell on Ginny. For a second she thought those brilliant green eyes would burn right through her.
“Who the bloody hell are you?” Potter demanded.
“Probationary Auror Weasley,” Susan answered before Ginny could speak. “It’s her first day, remember?”
Potter stared at Susan for a moment before shifting his gaze back to Ginny.
“Ah, yes,” he said. “The ex-Harpy. Well, you’ve picked a hell of a day to join us, Weasley. Keep your head down and stick to Susan like glue. Got that?”
“Yes, sir!” Ginny snapped.
For a second, she had thought that Potter would forbid her to go on the raid, but obviously they needed any wand they could get. Susan pulled her over to a group of four other Aurors who she guessed must be the team Potter had told them to join. Fear began to build in her and she felt her stomach churn. She’d been on the job for half a day and she was already about to take part in a highly dangerous operation. Ginny felt herself start to tremble and she hoped none of the other Aurors would notice.
“Alright, everyone got a Portkey?” Potter yelled. Each of the Team Leaders shouted in confirmation. Ginny reached down with the others and touched the tin can that was her team’s Portkey. “Good luck, everyone. Portkey in three…two…one…activate!”
Ginny felt the familiar pulling sensation at her navel. There was a confusing rush of colours and she was abruptly dumped onto the ground, hard. Cursing, she tried to get to her feet.
“Protego!” a voice yelled from somewhere behind her. A second later there was a brilliant bust of orange light to her left.
Spinning around, Ginny looked about in confusion. Susan was standing beside her with her wand held out before her. It took her brain a few moments to comprehend what had happened, but Ginny realised that Susan had cast a Shield Charm and the orange light must have been a curse hitting it. If the shield had not stopped it, the curse would have hit her directly in the head. She’d just avoided having the shortest Auror career in recorded history.
“Hampton! Weasley! Suppressive fire! The rest of you keep the Shield Charms in place and start to move forward,” Susan commanded.
For a second, Ginny was bewildered. She had no idea where the hostile fire was coming from. It was only when the large, shaven headed Auror to her right started sending Stunning Spells towards a long, low building around fifty yards to her front did she realise where she should be firing.
At the Auror training school, they had been lavish with praise at her accuracy when casting spells. Ginny was dismayed, therefore, when her first Stunning Spell went high over the building. Forcing herself to calm down, she carefully aimed at the far-left window where she could see flashes of spell fire. Her second spell impacted a few feet from the window while her third went right through it.
“Good shooting, Weasley!” Susan called. “Now, keeping shields in place, move forward!”
The team started to slowly move towards the building. Occasionally, spells would hit the shields, but fortunately nothing penetrated them. Ginny and the wizard called Hampton maintained a constant barrage of Stunning Spells, which seemed to be quite effective in suppressing enemy fire from the building.
Slowly, the team made their way forward. While it would have been easier to Apparate directly into the building, this was potentially a recipe for disaster. Apparating makes a distinctive popping noise which would have alerted anyone nearby. Not knowing where the hostile wizards were in the building, the Aurors would have been vulnerable as soon as they appeared and were likely to get cursed before they could react. The gradual approach on foot was slower, but much safer.
Eventually, they reached the building and pressed themselves against its walls.
“Stun grenade!” Susan yelled.
The big wizard, Hampton, reached into his robes and pulled out a round object, which he then threw into the building through the open window. Seconds later, there was a thunderous detonation, which rattled Ginny’s teeth. They had mentioned Muggle-style stun grenades at Auror School, but had implied that they weren’t used much. Clearly that information was inaccurate.
“Move!” Susan yelled launching herself through the open window before the dust had even settled. The other team members followed her example, climbing through another window further down. Remembering Potter’s words, Ginny followed behind Susan as closely as she was able.
Hauling herself through the window, Ginny was just in time to see Susan Stun a dark-robbed wizard who was on his knees clutching his head. Seeing various other bodies scattered around the floor, Ginny sent Stunners into them. No doubt she was hexing people who had already been Stunned, but it had been drilled into her that it was always better to be safe than sorry.
“Clear!” came a voice from further down the room. Looking round, Ginny assumed that the building must be some sort of storage facility, although it appeared largely empty at present. On the far side of the room was a door and a set of windows similar to the ones the team had entered through. Through the far windows Ginny could clearly see spells whizzing past. Susan had already moved forward and had pressed herself against the wall next to one of the windows. With lightning speed, she darted a look outside before pulling back. It was an establish technique to ensure she wasn’t silhouetted as a target.
Ginny ran to the open doorway to Susan’s left and similarly had a quick look out. Outside the door was a wide courtyard with buildings to her left and right. Spell fire sizzled back and forth between both sets of buildings, but Ginny had no idea who occupied which building. Just as she pulled her head back, she saw a bolt of sickly green light streak out from the building on the right and sped across the courtyard. It hit the building on the left and blew out several bricks.
“Killing Curse!” Susan yelled. “Pick your spells accordingly!”
Ginny gasped. She had been taught that Aurors must on all occasions seek to incapacitate or Stun suspects. If, however, an Unforgivable Curse was used against them, they had the legal right to retaliate with whatever spells they thought appropriate.
Susan took the opportunity to shoot a pair of Blasting Curses at the building on the right. Taking her cue from her Team Leader, Ginny shot a Blasting Curse of her own and was pleased to see it impact on a window ledge, blowing out several bricks and sending a cloud of dust into the air.
Suddenly, there was a thunderous detonation. Ginny could feel the floor beneath her feet vibrate and she saw the far end of the building on the right explode in a shower of brick and rubble.
“Sweet Merlin!” she screamed. “What the hell was that?”
“That was Harry!” Susan yelled back. “Check fire! Aurors entering target area. Check fire!”
The order was repeated throughout the building. Through the doorway Ginny could see flashes of spell fire inside the building on the right and she guessed that another team had assaulted the room through the hole that had just been blasted. She held her breath as she saw flashes of green light mixed in with the more usual reds and oranges. She prayed that none of the Aurors had been hit by any of the Killing Curses that were being thrown around.
After what seemed like hours but must have only been a minute or two, the flashes of light ceased. A few seconds late, someone shot red sparks from one of the windows followed by blue ones.
“That’s the all-clear signal,” Susan called. “Let’s move in. Hampton and Myles: you stay here and deal with these prisoners.”
Susan then hurried to the door Ginny was standing by. She darted outside and Ginny hurried after her.
They entered the building and Ginny thought she had walked into a disaster area. The far end of the room had been blown out completely, letting the sunlight stream in. Rubble littered the floor and the air was thick with dust.
Scattered amongst the debris were numerous bodies, most of them dressed in black cloaks. A number of Aurors were busy checking the fallen; handcuffing the ones that were merely Stunned and treating those that were injured. Fortunately, Ginny couldn’t see any of the distinctive green robes of an Auror among the fallen.
In the centre of the room stood Harry Potter, apparently surveying the damage. Without hesitation Susan ran straight to him and much to Ginny’s surprise threw her arms around him. For a second Potter’s face registered shock before he relaxed and wrapped his arms around the young woman. They stood holding each other for a second before Susan pulled away and viciously punched Harry on the arm.
“You idiot!” she yelled. “You were supposed to be commanding the operation, not leading the bloody assault team! When are you going to learn that you don’t have to do everything yourself?”
Potter looked at her sternly. “I was the only one who could create the opening we needed to storm this building,” he reasoned. “Besides, you know I would never ask anyone to do something I wouldn’t do myself.”
“That’s not the point,” Susan replied, her anger abating slightly. “Everyone here is a trained professional and they know the risks. That means that you don’t have to be the one to charge into danger every bloody time! And remember: you are supposed to be in command. How are you going to issue orders if you’re too busy dodging curses in the frontline?”
Potter did look a little sheepish at that. “I did what needed to be done, Susan. Yes, I lost tactical control for a few minutes, but it was necessary. Don’t make a big thing of this.”
“Okay,” Susan huffed, seemingly admitting defeat for the moment. “But you’re still a bloody idiot.”
Ginny stood nearby feeling rather awkward at having witnessed what appeared to have been a private moment. She was completely confused by Susan’s reaction. Only a few hours ago she had told Ginny that she was deeply in love with Ernie Macmillan, but here she was throwing herself into another man’s arms. And that man was Harry freaking Potter, no less. It was clear the two of them were very close, and Ginny resolved to question her new Team Leader about the relationship as soon as she could. Not that she was jealous or anything. Well, maybe a little.
“You okay there, Weasley?” Potter called.
Ginny blinked. Potter was looking directly at her, catching her by surprise. By now, the adrenalin that had been pumping through her system had dispersed and the little performance that had played out in front of her had left her feeling strangely irritated.
“Oh, I’m just peachy,” she snapped before it dawned on her that her reaction hadn’t been entirely appropriate. For a second she was mortified, but Potter just laughed. He walked over to her.
“Don’t worry, Weasley. Not all days will be this tough,” he said grinning. To her amazement he then gave her a light pat on the shoulder and turned away to supervise the clean-up operation. Ginny watched him walk away.
“Come on, Ginny,” Susan said, gaining her attention. “Let’s head back to the others and start policing up the prisoners.”
Ginny silently followed her Team Leader out the room, wondering just what she’d got herself into.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
The rest of the afternoon was spent in whirl of activity. Ginny and Susan had helped their fellow Aurors search the prisoners before transporting them to the Ministry’s holding cells. Susan had vanished to help with the preliminary interrogations, while Ginny started completing her first ever arrest report. The whole office was a hive of activity with people running in and out all the time. Ginny was shocked to see the Minister for Magic himself put in an appearance. Minister Shacklebolt spent a good hour in Robards’ office before emerging with a wide smile on his face.
During the course of the afternoon, Ginny met her other team members who had returned from their own task. Both of them were livid at missing such an important operation.
Howell Owen was a large, middle-aged, overweight wizard with a thick Welsh accent and a mass of curly brown hair. He was one of those loud, perpetually cheerful types whom it was impossible to dislike. Although he was clearly upset at missing the raid, he was positively gleeful at the thought of so many captured criminals.
Far more reserved was his partner, Sonia Shehata. She was a tall, dark, attractive witch who generated an aura of aloofness. As the afternoon progressed, however, Ginny learnt that Sonia wasn’t above a bit of gossiping. She periodically shared rumours about numerous other Aurors with the team, and seemed to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of everyone’s sex-lives, which she discussed in great detail.
It was early evening before Potter returned and called everyone into the centre of the room. There was a buzz of anticipation as to the exact results of the raid.
“Okay, listen in everyone,” Potter called. The room was instantly silent. “We’ve just completed the initial interrogation of all the suspects and without exception everyone we brought in today has been charged. We were greatly aided by the fact that Minister Shacklebolt gave us a waiver allowing Veritaserum to be used on all the suspects.”
There was a murmur of approval around the room. The Minister was an ex-Auror himself and as far as everyone was oncerned he was one of their own. By allowing the use of the truth drug, Minister Shacklebolt had made their life a lot easier.
“I’m sure everyone wants to know the final score,” Potter said grinning. The whole room was on tenterhooks. “We ended up arresting twenty-three suspects, four of whom are still in the medical facility receiving treatment. Of that total, fourteen of them had outstanding arrest warrants and six of them were in our ‘most wanted’ top ten!”
There were cries of joy and sporadic clapping broke out, but Potter silenced everyone with a wave of his hand.
“Even better,” Potter continued. “One of those arrested was Titus Parkinson. That’s right; we got the last remaining Death Eater to escape justice!”
The room exploded in noise. People were hugging or slapping each other on the back. Ginny was beginning to understand what a big deal this was for her fellow Aurors. Clearly, it was a major triumph for them.
“I’m sure you all realise what this means to me,” Potter said sincerely after things had settled down. “After all this time it finally feels like the war is completely finished. I’d like to thank everyone here for their efforts, not just today but over the last few years, in ensuring that those deserving of punishment are brought to trial. The world is a safer place tonight.”
A round of spontaneous applause broke out.
“And to show my thanks I’ll be setting up a tab behind the bar at ‘The Lantern’,” Potter announced once the noise had died down. “The drinks are on me!”
Ginny couldn’t help but laugh when Potter’s offer brought the loudest cheer of the afternoon. Immediately, everyone dived back to their desks and began to clear their work away. There were a few disgruntled faces that Ginny assumed were the people who were still on duty.
As soon as she returned to her desk, Susan grabbed her.
“You’ve got a change of Muggle clothes in your locker, right?” she asked. Ginny nodded. It was an unwritten rule that Aurors should have Muggle clothing available in case of need.
“Great!” Susan exclaimed. “Get changed and let’s go and celebrate!”
“Err, actually, I was just going to head home,” Ginny replied hesitantly. She hated to admit that her Mum would be expecting her home.
“Nonsense,” Susan said. “You’re an Auror now, Ginny. This is a historic day for the department and you, my girl, are part of that. Now change out of those robes and get ready to help run up a bar bill that will make Harry weep!”
Seeing that Susan was not going to take no for an answer, Ginny headed to the locker rooms and changed into jeans and a light sweater. A couple of drinks wouldn’t hurt, would they?
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
The Broken Lantern proved to be an innocuous looking pub situated around the corner from the Ministry. The narrow front of the building proved to be deceptive, and Ginny suspected the place was magically enlarged on the inside. It was a cosy place with small booths set along one wall and a long wood-topped bar against the other. Further tables and chairs were located at the end of the room ensuring that the place could accommodate quite large numbers of people, which was just as well as it appeared most of the Auror Department appeared to have taken up Potter’s offer.
Susan and Ginny grabbed one of the small booths before Susan headed to the bar which by now was crowded with people trying to get served. In a surprisingly short time, Susan returned clutching two bottles, one of which she placed in front of Ginny.
“Benefits of being a team leader,” Susan explained. “I get to jump the queue at the bar!”
“What’s this, then?” Ginny asked, eyeing the bottle suspiciously.
“Lager, a Muggle drink,” Susan explained. “This place is run by an ex-Auror and he stocks both Muggle and Wizarding drinks. It’s become something of a tradition that Aurors only drink the Muggle stuff, though. More choice and generally more potent.”
“Great,” Ginny mumbled. “My mum will have a fit if I come home pissed out of my head.”
“You’re still living at home?” Susan asked in surprise. “No disrespect, Ginny, but that doesn’t really seem like you.”
“I did share a flat when I was with the Harpies, but I had to give it up when I left,” Ginny shrugged. “While I was in Auror training there didn’t seem much point having my own place. Once I’ve got past probation I’ll think about getting my own place.”
“You can’t be worried you won’t get through the probationary period, are you?” Susan asked, after taking a long drink from her bottle. “From what I saw today you’ll do fine.”
“I don’t want to count my chickens,” Ginny responded. “It would break my heart if I got myself all settled somewhere and then I had to give it up. It was hard enough moving back home the last time.”
“Why? What was the problem?” Susan wanted to know. Ginny was a bit alarmed to see Susan had nearly managed to finish her first drink while she’d barely had a few sips of hers. Clearly being an Auror meant you had to learn to handle your booze.
“A few reasons,” Ginny admitted, hastily taking a few gulps of her beer in an effort to catch up. The lager tasted rather bitter in comparison to Butterbeer which she was more familiar with. “Things were a bit strained at home before I left to join the Harpies. My brother, George, had moved back home after Fred was killed and, well, he wasn’t handling things very well. After I quit playing Quidditch everyone thought I had gone mad and took every available opportunity to tell me so. Mum hated the idea of me becoming an Auror. She still does, in fact. She thinks I should be finding myself a good man and settling down. I swear she won’t be happy until I’ve pumped out half a dozen babies.”
Susan snorted. “A bit old fashioned is she, your mum?”
“Yeah, just a bit,” Ginny confirmed. “She thought playing Quidditch was far too dangerous for me, so you can imagine how she feels about me becoming an Auror.”
“It’s your life, Ginny,” Susan said having just drained the dregs of her beer. “You do what you want to do, not what your mother wants.”
Ginny was just about to voice her agreement when she was interrupted.
“Bloody hell, Susan,” a voice said. “Only drinking bottled beer? Are you turning into a lightweight on me?”
Ginny looked up and saw Harry Potter standing there with that irresistible lop-sided grin on his face and a pint in his hand. Susan grinned and planted her empty bottle on the table in front of him.
“I’ll have you know I’m easing my newest team member in gently,” she informed him. “But since your offering, I’ll have my usual.”
“Since I’m offering?” Potter repeated in mock disbelief. “I’m already paying for all the drinks. I didn’t realise I had to wait hand and foot on you as well!”
“It’s only right and proper,” Susan replied laughing. “You should know by now that you have to pander to my every whim.”
“Well, forgive me, Miss Bones. How remiss of me. I will fetch your drink immediately,” Potter said while performing a small bow. To Ginny’s surprised he then turned to her. “What would you like, Ginny?”
Ginny nearly fell out of her seat in shock that Potter had not only remembered her first name, but had addressed her by it. Not quite trusting herself to speak, she just waved her half-full bottle in front of her to demonstrate she already had a drink. Potter, of course, completely misinterpreted the gesture.
“Another bottle of lager coming up,” he confirmed before putting his own drink down and heading towards the bar. Ginny watched him disappear open mouthed.
Susan snorted with laughter. “Auror rule number one, Ginny,” she informed her. “Never turn down a free drink.”
“This is going to take some getting used to,” Ginny moaned.
Susan patted her shoulder sympathetically. As her new friend seemed to be in such a good mood, Ginny decided now was the perfect time to question her about her relationship with the legendary Harry Potter.
“So,” she began casually. “You and Mr Potter seem very friendly.”
Susan looked at her and sighed. “Well, it’s not exactly a secret,” she answered. “You remember at lunch time I was telling you about the bloke I was with before I got together with Ernie? Well, it was Harry.”
Ginny’s eyes bulged, but before she had the chance to ask any more questions the man in question returned with their drinks. He placed another bottle of lager in front of Ginny and handed Susan a tall glass filled with a clear liquid.
“Raspberry flavoured vodka and lemonade. Yum! I could live on this stuff, I really could,” Susan informed her.
“And she does!” Potter laughed before taking a seat opposite Ginny.
Quickly, she took a long swig of her beer to hide her blush. Susan’s revelation that she use to be Potter’s girlfriend had shocked her. All she could think about was her friend’s earlier comment about the sex being fantastic. Great, she thought, now I won’t be able to look him in the face.
“I’m sorry, Ginny,” Potter said gaining her attention again. “Normally I like to meet new Aurors on their first day and have a bit of a chat, but I’m afraid things got a bit crazy today.”
No shit, thought Ginny. “That’s quite alright, sir,” she replied, not quite looking at him.
“Outside of work you call me Harry, okay?” he insisted.
“Um, okay,” Ginny mumbled. She risked a quick glance at him and saw he was smiling at her with that lop-sided grin that had such an effect on her earlier. Sweet Merlin, she needed to get a grip.
“So, I know that was a hell of an introduction, but what did you think of your first day?” Harry asked. Ginny took a long swig of her second bottle, having just discovered her first was now empty.
“Um, actually I thought it was great. I know it’s not what I’ll be doing everyday, but that was what I imagined being an Auror would be like. You know: going on raids, battling Dark wizards and rounding up dangerous criminals. I really felt proud to be part of today’s events,” she replied, surprising herself. Maybe the alcohol was making her a bit more relaxed.
“For her first real raid she did brilliantly!” Susan chipped in. “I tell you, Harry, we’ve got a good one here.”
“Well done, Ginny!” Harry exclaimed, favouring her with a warm smile.
Ginny nearly melted into a puddle at his feet, but mentally slapped herself. The phrase ‘fantastic sex’ kept echoing through her head.
“Thank you, sir… err, I mean Harry,” she mumbled. She took another drink and was shocked to see her second bottle was now nearly empty. Wow, she really was starting to fit in, wasn’t she?
“You’re probably sick of everyone asking about it,” Harry continued, “but what made you leave the world of professional Quidditch and become an overworked, underpaid Auror?”
Ginny couldn’t help but give a little sigh. She repeated the story she had told Susan at lunchtime about how the lifestyle of the Harpies hadn’t been to her taste and her desire to do something positive with her life. Harry seemed fascinated and hung on her every word.
“Wow,” he exclaimed when she’d finished telling her tale. “I had no idea Quidditch players were all like that. I nearly ended up playing professionally myself; I’m bloody glad I decided to stay in Auror training.”
“Really?” Ginny asked. “What position did you play?”
“I was quite a useful Seeker,” Harry replied with pride in his voice.
“Quite useful?” Susan snorted. “He was bloody brilliant, Ginny. While in training we were allowed to put an amateur team together and we played in the local Sunday league. With Harry playing Seeker we never once lost a game! Eventually, some professional scouts heard about him and, after seeing him play once, offered him a contract on the spot.”
“I admit I was tempted at the time, but I’d invested too much in becoming an Auror to throw it away,” Harry confided. “From what you tell me about the lifestyle, Ginny, I had a narrow escape.”
“Yeah,” Ginny admitted. “Did you know, it was written into the Harpies contract that you had to pose for a saucy calendar once a year? I was damned if I was flaunting my bits and bobs for everyone to see.”
“Ooh, that’s not fair, Harry!” Susan exclaimed. “By rejecting a career in Quidditch you’ve denied us females the chance to have our very own calendar with you displaying your bits! Oh, the tragedy!”
“I think the witches of Britain could live without seeing my privates plastered all over their walls,” Harry muttered.
“Rubbish,” Susan disagreed before turning to Ginny. “He’s hung like a hippogriff!” she confided in a stage whisper.
Ginny happened to be looking at Harry as Susan announced this and she was amazed to see him turn bright red with embarrassment. She couldn’t help herself.
“Well, I’d pay good money to see that!’ she exclaimed.
Potter’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red and before she could stop herself Ginny burst out laughing. A second later, Susan joined in and the two witches howled with laughter at the unfortunate man. Harry just sighed.
“Great! Now I’ve got two red-heads taking the piss out of me,” he lamented. “I think I’ll go and get the next round in.” he vanished towards the bar.
Ginny managed to get her giggling under control and she turned towards her new friend.
“Susan, did we just manage to make the defeater of the evil Lord Voldemort blush like an embarrassed schoolgirl and run away?” she asked.
“Yup,” Susan confirmed, throwing an arm around Ginny’s shoulder. “I tell you, Gin. We’re going to make a great team!”
Ginny couldn’t help but agree.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Not far from the where the two witches were drinking a man was sitting alone in the dark.
Darkness had been his friend for many years now. As a child when the other kids had been chasing him he’d discovered they would rarely follow him into a dark space. Oh, many of them would pretend to search for him in the pitch-black cellar of the orphanage that had been his favourite hiding place, but in truth, most of them just stood in the doorway for a second before heading back. It was natural for most humans to fear the dark. Who knows what terrors could be lurking out of sight?
But he was different. He welcomed the blackness which hid him from the accusing eyes that mocked him. It had been the same wherever he went, people staring at him distrustfully, silently condemning him for being different. Damn them.
He stood and made his way forward with complete confidence. He didn’t need light to know where everything was in this room. This place was his sanctuary, his haven of calm in a cruel world, and he was intimately familiar with every inch of the place.
He stopped and reached out his hand. His fingers encountered the spine of one of his precious books, exactly where he knew it would be. The collection of books was his pride and joy, and had cost a pretty penny to assemble. Of course, he needed the light to read them, but that was a small price to pay for the knowledge they imparted.
With loving tenderness he ran his fingers along one shelf, enjoying the smooth feel of book covers against his skin. These were his medical books, which laid open the mysteries of the human body to him. They had been collected from numerous different sources over the years and his collection would do justice to the libraries of the finest surgeons in the land.
Pausing, he reached higher and stroked the leather covers of his other collection: his books on magic. Most of these had been bought in Knockturn Alley over the last few years and had taken the lion’s share of his financial outlay. He was convinced they would be a sound investment, however. Of course, his most precious set of books he hadn’t had to pay a single Knut for. You could say they were the only gift his family had ever given him, if not for the simple fact that he had stolen them.
He turned and retook his seat. He struggled to remain tranquil, but the excitement was rapidly building up inside him. After years of study and planning, of struggle and sacrifice, tonight he would begin his great task.
Taking a deep breath, he savoured the slightly musty air in the room. For the thousandth time he began to go through his plan of action for the night. He had been so patient up to this point; it would be a tragedy if something went wrong because he forgot something in his excitement. The anticipation was so thick he could taste it.
For the next hour he forced himself to remain seated and concentrate on his plan. He knew it so well by now he was convinced he could follow it in his sleep. Not that he could possibly sleep at the moment. He was far too excited for that.
Finally, it was time to begin. He stood and walked over to the table which stood in the centre of the room. His hand immediately found the carved wood of the box that sat on the table. He paused to enjoy the feel of the wood under his fingers, savouring every sensation. When he felt he could wait no longer, his trembling hands opened the box. Unfalteringly, he found the cool metal handle of his knife and he gripped it tightly. It felt so good in his hand, like it was meant to be there.
Reluctantly, he slipped the knife into the specially sewn pocket inside his jacket. He could feel the blade’s weight and it was reassuring to him.
With bliss in his heart, he collected his cloak and headed out the door. His eyes would need a moment to adjust to the dim light of the evening, but then he would be on his way.
It was time to fulfil his destiny.
Chapter 3: Chapter 3 – From Hell
Author's Notes: Well, quite a few people have had fun speculating about our killer’s identity (before he’s actually done anything!) but so far all the suggestions have been off. As I said in several reviews, it won’t be anyone obvious or that well known, and besides, I’ve yet to give you any real clues yet.
A quick word about Molly, who will enter the story in this chapter. For some reason, every story I’ve written so far has a slightly different version of Molly. In ‘The List/Oath’ she was earthy and fun-loving, while in ‘Butterfly…’ she was domineering and self-righteous. Here, she will be over-emotional and overprotective. I wasn’t desperately happy writing her in this manner as a lot of stories have her like this and it’s always seemed a bit over the top to me. Unfortunately, the plot demands she is like this, and I must obey the plot!
Massive thanks to Arnel, who is currently trying to break me of my weird ideas about capitalisation. My other weird ideas are, apparently, fine!
After taking a third wild swipe at her ringing alarm clock, Ginny succeeded in shutting the bloody thing off.
Her head fell back onto her pillow and she groaned. Why had she drunk so much the previous night? She hadn’t had a hangover this bad since, well, ever.
Closing her eyes against faint light which was proving too much for her to handle, she contemplated just rolling over and going back to sleep. Unfortunately, she was expected at work and failing to turn up on only her second day would not be a good idea. With dedication that she thought should earn her a medal, she rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
One long shower later and she felt like crap, as opposed to total crap as she had been before. Pulling on her clothes, she headed downstairs in search of a large cup of the strongest coffee she could find.
Entering the kitchen, she mumbled a greeting to the two family members present. Her mother just huffed at her, while her brother Ron just sniggered. She wasn’t going to get much sympathy this morning, she suspected.
Moving on auto-pilot, she put the kettle on the hob to boil and found a cup. A few minutes later she was inhaling the rich aroma of her coffee with relief.
She nearly spilt her drink when her mother rather aggressively slammed a plate of breakfast down in front of her. Ginny eyed the bacon and eggs warily, and felt her stomach churn. Knowing her mother would make a big fuss it she tried to leave without eating, she grabbed some toast and gingerly scooped some of the scrambled eggs onto her fork.
“So, how are you feeling this morning, Gin-Gin?” Ron asked in rather too loud a voice. “I take it your first day went well, then? Or did it go so badly that you had to drink to forget it?”
Ginny glared at her smirking brother. The very last thing she need to this morning was to deal with his crap. Unfortunately, his question had been the signal for her mother to start in on her.
“It was disgusting the state you came home in last night, young lady,” Molly scolded. “Here I was, worried sick about you; and you turn up hours late, so drunk you could barely stand!”
“Sorry, Mum,” Ginny replied. “I lost track of the time. I kind of got caught up in all the celebrations and wasn’t watching the time.”
“Celebrations?” Ron scoffed. “What, the Aurors were so happy that you’d joined them that they just had to go out and celebrate, is that it?”
“No, they were celebrating the success of the raid,” Ginny snapped.
“Raid? What raid?” Molly demanded.
Ginny blinked. The capture of the last remaining Death Eater had been such a big deal within the Department it hadn’t occurred to her that news of the triumph might not have spread. But they had smashed a major crime ring, surely that was news worthy?
“Isn’t there anything in the paper about it?” she asked.
“I haven’t had time to look at the Daily Prophet this morning,” Molly said with a frown. “Your father was asked to go into the Ministry early this morning. There’s some big flap on.”
“He’s probably been asked to attend the trials,” Ginny reasoned. After the war her dad had been asked to take a seat on the Wizengamot as so many of the previous members had been killed or arrested. Arthur had been delighted and thought the position a great honour.
“Trials?” Molly repeated. She quickly hurried over to the sideboard and retrieved that morning’s paper which had been laying there unread. Unfolding it, Molly gasped in shock as soon as she saw the headlines. Intently, she began reading the rest of the story.
“What’s going on?” Ron demanded with his usual lack of grace.
“We had a tip-off that a large group of Dark Wizards were gathering and we managed to obtain the location of their meeting,” Ginny explained. “The group contained a number of ex-Snatchers and the last remaining Death Eater not brought to justice. As the Aurors had been hunting that bloke for years, you can imagine how happy everyone was. We captured twenty-three dangerous criminals; that warranted a bit of a celebration, I think.”
“We?” repeated Molly. “I certainly hope you had nothing to do with this dangerous raid.”
“Of course, I did,” Ginny said loudly. “I’m a trained Auror; naturally I went on the raid!”
“But you’ve only just joined!” Molly objected in horror. “How could they send someone so inexperienced into a situation like that?”
“I’ve been through three years of training, Mum!” Ginny protested. “I was declared operationally ready. There was no reason for me not to go on the raid, and I would have been pissed off if I hadn’t been allowed to go.”
“This is ridiculous!” Molly shouted. “You’re just a young girl, Ginny. You shouldn’t be mixed up in this sort of thing.”
Ginny should feel her temper rising. “I’m an adult witch, Mum, and my choices are my own! You were in more dangerous situations during the war, why shouldn’t I stand up for what I believe to be right?”
“I can’t believe you could be so inconsiderate,” Molly wailed.
“Inconsiderate? What are you talking about?” Ginny demanded.
“I lost both my brothers in the war,” Molly yelled, close to tears. “My eldest son was grievously hurt and my darling Freddy was killed. How do you think I would feel if anything happened to you?”
For a second Ginny was stunned. What did she expect? That she wrapped herself in cotton wool for the rest of her life? Didn’t her mum understand?
“Mum, it is because of Fred and Bill that I want to do this. I want to make the world a safer place. I don’t want any other families to go through what we have, and by becoming an Auror I can help prevent that. Just look at that raid yesterday. Twenty-three evil bastards locked safely away: result! For the first time in my life, I made a real difference,” she said proudly.
“By why does it have to be you?” Molly sobbed. “Let some other family take the risk. It’s someone else’s turn; we’ve done enough!”
“Up to yesterday, I’d done nothing!” Ginny protested. “I can’t hide behind the rest of my family. Do you know how frustrated I was during the war knowing all my brothers were walking into danger while I hid at Hogwarts? I need to do this, Mum.”
“No, I won’t let you!” Molly cried.
“You can’t stop me!” Ginny yelled back before pushing her chair back roughly and headed up to her room.
Taking deep breaths, Ginny tried to calm herself as she readied herself for work. She understood her mum’s concerns, she really did. But Molly still treated her like a little girl. She was a fully qualified Auror, for Merlin’s sake! Part of an elite group. Why couldn’t her mum trust her for once?
Without warning, the bedroom door flew open and Ron stomped in.
“You selfish little cow!” he raged. “Do you know what you’ve done to Mum? She’s crying her eyes out down there!”
“You hypocrite!” Ginny raged. “You wanted to become an Auror yourself! What are you suggesting? That it would have been alright for you to do it, but not me?”
“Damn right!” Ron yelled. “You’d break Mum’s heart if anything happened to you!”
“It would break Mum’s heart if anything happened to any of us!” Ginny countered.
“Yeah, but you’re her only daughter. Can’t you see what you’re doing to her?” Ron shouted his face an alarming shade of red.
“I can’t live my life always doing what Mum wants. Merlin, you know how overprotective she is! Besides, Bill and Charlie both do dangerous jobs and she’s got use to that over time. Give her a couple of months to get used to the idea of what I’m doing and everything will be fine,” Ginny reasoned.
Ron stared at her angrily. Ginny knew full well that part of his reaction was down to his jealousy of her. He’d always dreamed of having an exciting or important job, and he’d ended up working in George’s joke shop. She had little sympathy for him, however. Ron had never been good enough to play Quidditch professionally, despite his boasting, so had felt no one else in the family should, either. And while he’d expressed a desire to be an Auror himself, he’d never put in nearly enough work to get the exam results he would have needed.
Clearly unable to think of a convincing argument that didn’t make him look either sexist or hypocritical, Ron snorted and turned to walk out of the room. Ginny hadn’t quite finished with him however.
“Oh, and Ron?” she called. “If you ever burst into my room without knocking again, I’ll hex you into the middle of next week!”
Ron stomped off without saying another word. Ginny sighed; she really needed to find her own place.
Collecting her bag, Ginny headed downstairs to take the Floo to work. As she vanished in a flash of green light, she desperately tried to ignore the sound of her mother sobbing in the other room.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Ginny arrived at her desk to find her other team members already there. Howell took one look at her and burst out laughing.
“Dear, oh, dear! Look at the state of that!” he teased. “Had a bit too much to drink last night, did we?”
Ginny glared at him, but he just grinned at her cheekily. Taking pity of her, Susan reached into her desk and retrieved a vial containing a pale blue liquid which she handed to Ginny.
“Hangover cure,” Susan explained. Ginny shot her a grateful look and downed the potion in one. Relief washed over her and she slumped into her seat with a contented sigh.
“Don’t worry, my girl,” Howell assured her. “We’ll soon have you up to speed. Got to be able to hold your liquor if you’re an Auror. It’s a matter of pride!”
“This jobs going to kill me,” Ginny moaned to the amusement of the other three.
“Funny, that’s what I said when I first joined,” laughed Susan. “Right, to work! We’re going to follow up that case we were looking at yesterday before everything went to hell. If you recall…”
But Susan got no further. They were suddenly interrupted by the sound of the Assistant Head Auror’s office door being flung open and the man himself emerging with a face like granite.
“Senior Auror Bones! My office: NOW!” Potter yelled.
Susan looked up in surprise and trepidation. With only the slightest of hesitations, she leapt up and hurried over to Potter’s office. She vanished inside and the door was slammed shut.
“What do you think that’s all about?” Howell asked with interest.
“Maybe they had a lovers tiff last night,” Sonia speculated.
“Oh, stop flogging that dead horse,” Howell said in disgust. “They haven’t been together for ages, despite all your insinuations. Besides, Susan left long before Harry last night and they were fine then.”
“Oh, yes, that’s right,” Sonia said. Her gaze turned to Ginny. “I forgot that Mr Potter seemed more interested in our newest recruit here.”
Ginny blinked. Her memories of the previous night were still a bit hazy, but now they mentioned it she did remember spending most of the evening talking with Harry and Susan. After Susan had left, claiming that Ernie would be getting worried, she and Harry had continued chatting. She had a vague memory of her doubling up with laughter at something the man had said.
Looking up, she noticed her two fellow team members looking at her intently.
“We just chatted about Quidditch,” Ginny said defensively.
“Right,” Howell said grinning. “I suppose that was why you were practically sat on his lap most of the evening.”
“So, what do you think he wants with Susan?” asked Ginny, desperately trying to change the subject.
“Think it’s a job?” Sonia suggested.
“Could be,” Howell agreed. “But it would have to be something pretty serious to knock him out of the good mood he’s been in since we caught that bloody Death Eater.”
As if in answer to the question, the door to Potter’s office flew open and Susan stalked out. She marched over to the desk with a grim expression on her face.
“Grab your gear,” she announced. “We’re going to Hogsmeade. There’s been a murder.”
“A murder!” Howell exclaimed. “Merlin on a bike! A major raid yesterday and a murder today. It’s all bloody go, isn’t it?”
The team scrambled to get their equipment together. Within half an hour they had Apparated to Hogsmeade and located the small flat that was the crime scene. A couple of DMLE staff were standing outside and waved them in. They headed up the stairs to the small flat as quickly as they could.
What they found was a scene from hell.
“Sweet Merlin,” Howell muttered. “What happened to the poor girl?”
Ginny could only stare in disbelief at the scene of horror laid out before her. She had never actually seen a dead body before, but had known it was something she was going to encounter at some point in her new career. But this… this was more than any person should have to deal with. She felt her stomach churn and she was glad she hadn’t had much breakfast.
Dimly, Ginny was aware of Susan talking to another DMLE officer. She heard them speaking, but her shocked brain couldn’t process the words. All she was aware of was the gory wreckage that used to be a human body in front of her.
“Ginny? GINNY!” a voice brought her to her senses and she looked up to see Susan staring at her intently.
“Start processing the crime scene with Sonia,” Susan ordered. “Howell, start knocking on doors and talking to the neighbours. The victim’s name was Mary Kelly. Time of death was sometime around midnight last night, so see if anyone heard anything. Ask about her background, if she had any frequent visitors; you know the drill.”
Howell nodded and exited the room. He looked like he was relieved to leave. Ginny forced herself to start moving and she headed over to the solitary window in the room and started casting Detection Spells. At least if she was doing this she wouldn’t have to look at the body. As she worked, she could hear the conversation continuing between Susan and the DMLE officer.
“Her flatmate found her around four a.m. this morning,” the man explained. “Both of them work part time as barmaids at The Three Broomsticks, but it wasn’t this girl’s night to work. She was last seen alive at around eight p.m. the previous evening. Her flatmate didn’t think Kelly had any plans to meet anyone or was expecting any visitors.”
“Can we talk to the flatmate?” Susan asked.
“Not right at the moment,” the man replied. “I had to send her to St Mungo’s. I think she went into shock. We were lucky to get anything out of her before her brain seized up.”
“Never mind, we’ll talk with her later,” Susan agreed. “Did Kelly have any family?”
“Her parents have been notified,” the DMLE officer confirmed. “I gather they were pretty much estranged from their daughter and hadn’t seen her for some years.”
“Hmm, they’re not going to be a lot of use then,” Susan said in a disappointed voice. “Have any of your people done any medical scans of the victim?”
“Thought we’d leave that to you lot,” the man replied, sounding a little smug.
“Thanks,” Susan said sarcastically.
Ginny risked a glance over her shoulder and she saw Susan kneeling next to the corpse waving her wand over it. She had to admire her Team Leader’s resilience; she doubted she would have been able to get that close to the body without puking.
“The liver’s been removed,” Susan announced calmly, “and the heart. We may well be looking at some ritualistic motivation for the killing.”
“No sign of forced entry through the window,” Ginny announced having completed her initial Detection Spells, “but the protection wards on this place are practically non-existent. The murderer may have been able to Apparate directly into the room.”
“Not surprising, really,” Susan announced. “A part-time barmaid doesn’t exactly make a lot of money, and this place isn’t exactly a palace. I doubt they could afford much in the way of protection and I assume they wouldn’t have the skill to cast them themselves.”
“No sign of a break-in at the back,” Sonia informed them, having just returned to the room. “No evidence of anyone other than the tenants having been in the bedrooms.”
“I can’t see any signs of sexual assault,” Susan said, continuing her spells. “I’m no expert, but the organ removals look like a very professional job. This was no hacking frenzy; the heart and liver have been carefully removed with minimal damage to the surrounding organs.”
“The poor woman’s been split right open,” Sonia noted. “It would take someone with a strong stomach to do that, or medical experience, maybe.”
“Muggle medical experience, perhaps,” Susan noted. “She’s been cut open with a knife of some sort.”
“But it couldn’t have been a Muggle,” Sonia objected. “We’re in Hogsmeade. A Muggle wouldn’t be able to even see the place.”
“I know that,” Susan snapped. “I just said someone with Muggle medical experience, not an actual Muggle! I know some Healers at St Mungo’s do cross training at Muggle hospitals occasionally to gain experience, but I’ve never heard of any of them actually performing surgery.”
“Could it have been a Muggle-born?” Ginny suggested. “Someone who had a Muggle surgeon as family?”
“It’s worth checking out,” Susan agreed. “I think we’ll need to take the body to St Mungo’s and let a professional Healer look at it. This is a bit beyond my level of experience.”
At that moment Howell returned with a frustrated look on his face.
“No luck, boss,” he announced. “We have flats above and below, but the occupants of both were out last night. No one heard a thing. I got the impression people tend to keep themselves to themselves round here. No one knew much about the girls who lived here other than they both worked at The Three Broomsticks. Oh, by the way, the blood has started to leak through the floor into the flat below. ”
All four Aurors stared at the blood-soaked carpet and were unsurprised at this news.
“All right; Sonia and Ginny, you two continue your search. Bag up anything even slightly unusual,” Susan ordered. “Howell, you and me get the plumb job. We’ll be preparing the body for transport to St Mungo’s.”
Ginny resumed casting spells as she had been taught, but she could find nothing unusual. A quick glance over at Sonia suggested she was having similar luck.
A strange sense of unreality settled over Ginny. Yesterday she had been thrown into a deadly fight, seen Unforgivable Curses being thrown around, and ended up getting drunk in a pub with the legendary Harry Potter. Today she had seen her first dead body and been exposed to a crime so horrid she could not believe the perpetrator was human.
Well, no one could ever say that being an Auror was dull.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
It was late afternoon when the team was called into Potter’s office to deliver their initial report. Ginny nervously took a seat next to Susan with Sonia on her right and Howell beyond her. She fiddled anxiously with the report resting on her lap and waited for the briefing to get underway. Potter sat opposite her behind his surprisingly small desk, reading Susan’s preliminary crime scene report. After a few minutes he put the file down and looked expectantly at Susan who began her briefing.
“The victim was Mary Kelly, aged thirty-one, who worked as a part-time barmaid at The Three Broomsticks Inn. She shared a flat with another barmaid, Samantha Meikle, and she had been living there for nearly a year. Kelly moved to Hogsmeade after splitting up with her long-term boyfriend. He has a rock-solid alibi, by the way,” Susan explained.
“Tell me about the victim’s injuries,” Potter ordered.
“The victim’s heart and liver had been removed with a sharp knife of some description,” Susan continued. “The Healer at St Mungo’s said the removal had been done with great skill and would have avoided damage to the organs.”
“It’s sounding more and more like a ritualistic killing,” Potter noted.
“The Healer said that this was an extremely difficult thing to do well. The killer even seems to have removed and then replaced various other organs once he’d got what he wanted,” Susan noted.
“You said ‘he’,” Potter questioned. “Any reason to assume the killer was male?”
“Other than statistical probability, no,” Susan admitted. “Frankly, at the moment we have no clues either way. Hell, for all the evidence we’ve uncovered, it could have been a bloody house-elf for all we know.”
“Do we have any leads at all?” Potter demanded.
“Well, the organ removal was done the Muggle way and with great skill. That’s got to be our starting point. Obviously, it wasn’t a Muggle or they wouldn’t have been able to even see Hogsmeade in the first place. Auror Weasley suggested it could have been a Muggle-born with some experience of Muggle medical procedures so we’re trying to check up on that.”
“Good thinking, Weasley,” Potter said, causing Ginny to blush. “You might want to think about the ritualistic uses of the removed organs, as well. I know of some Dark Rituals that require human body parts, but they are normally used to target the victim’s family. Check to see if the Kellys had any enemies or reasons to be targeted.”
“Right,” Susan agreed, making a note on her sheet of parchment.
“One last thing,” Potter said sternly. “This has been a particularly gruesome murder and the last thing I want is the press to start causing a panic. I want the details of this case kept completely secret, got that? I don’t want you to even discuss it with your fellow Aurors. This stays under wraps until we have some answers.”
“Yes, sir,” Susan agreed.
“Good. Now get cracking. This case reeks of Dark Magic and I want whoever is responsible in Azkaban, pronto! Good luck and keep me informed,” Potter said, dismissing them.
The four Aurors made their way back to their desks with heavy hearts. It didn’t need anyone to point out that they had very little to go on. There was a blood-thirsty killer out there somewhere who was displaying signs of being very skilful and extremely intelligent. This was not going to be easy.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
He carefully watched the clock on the wall. The ritual had to be completed on the stroke of midnight and he was determined nothing would go wrong.
The flickering torches mounted around the walls illuminated the bare room. He hadn’t believed his luck when he’d discovered this chamber all those months ago. Who could have guessed something so perfectly suited to his needs was located so close to his work place?
With excitement mounting within him, he stood naked at the centre of the pentagram drawn on the floor. In front of him a brazier burned brightly, casting shadows against the stone walls of the chamber.
At exactly eleven fifty-five he began chanting the incantation. The words had long since been etched into his brain and he needed no reminders. His cadence and volume perfectly matched the instructions in his spell book, the result of endless practice. Again and again he canted the incantation, each time his voice becoming slightly louder. His heart began to beat rapidly and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand on end. He began to chant faster and faster, his breath becoming ragged as he panted with anticipation. The hands on the clock moved forward agonisingly slowly, but he could not look away until…
The clock chimed.
At the first strike of the bell he threw the liver he had been holding in his left hand into the brazier and watched it sizzle and burn. A few second later he threw the heart he’d been holding in his right hand into the fire, too. With a great shout he held his arms aloft and waited for the surge of power to enter his body.
He waited.
And he waited.
And he waited some more.
He lowered his arms and stared into the dancing flames. He felt no different; the ritual had failed.
Sighing deeply, he stepped from the centre of the pentagram and reached for the towel he had left on a chair in the corner. He fought down his disappointment; after all, the book had said that the ritual worked only one in five times. He was certain that he had followed the instructions in the spell book correctly. Obviously the woman he had selected had not been right for the task. He shook his head, all the information he had on her had suggested she would be perfect. Still, he couldn’t expect everything to work first time.
He walked out of the chamber and headed back to his study. He would need to select his next the next young woman carefully.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
The alarm clock once again roused Ginny from her slumber. She viciously swiped at it and managed to knock it off her bedside table completely. It hit the floor with an audible crack and Ginny suspected she’d broken it. What a great start to the day.
It had been quite late when she’d returned to the Burrow the previous evening. Her mother had given her the cold-shoulder, but had at least saved her some dinner. Ginny was forced to listen to her mother’s waspish comments while she ate, however. Feeling too drained to fight, Ginny had accepted Molly’s barbed words without reply and then retired to bed. Ron, who had been sitting in the living room with his girlfriend, had felt the need to add his own comments and criticisms as well.
Ginny’s reply had consisted of a single raised finger. She’d hoped that Ron had gotten the message.
Dragging herself out of bed, Ginny realised that she couldn’t continue to live at the Burrow much longer. It had been bad enough when she was in training when her hours were at least fairly predictable. But now, with her working hours dictated as the case required and the ever present threat of danger in the background, the arrangement was proving impractical.
Her mother would continue to do everything in her power to try to convince Ginny to quit and take up a less dangerous occupation. Ron would be no better and would continue to allow his jealousy to govern his mouth. Her dad… well, who knew what he thought. He seemed to be doing his best to pretend nothing was going on.
Of her remaining four brothers, most of them had clearly voiced their opposition to her becoming an Auror. She’d felt that this was particularly hypocritical of Bill and Charlie bearing in mind the dangerous jobs they did. She couldn’t give a damn what Percy thought anyway, so he didn’t matter. The only member of her family that offered her any support had been George. He’d understood her need to make a difference and desire to prevent evil raising its head ever again. George alone had told her that he was proud of her and for that she would be eternally grateful.
Ginny completed her morning routine and managed to get through breakfast without too many problems. Her mother had pointedly asked her if she would be home for dinner on time before she left and she’d indicated that she didn’t know. This, predictably, had angered her mum who didn’t seem to understand that the world didn’t stop as soon as she put a plate on the table.
Her bad mood continued as she arrived at work. As soon as she stepped into the office, Susan had handed her a large stack of files and instructed her to look for anyone who may have had access to Muggle medical training. Ginny sighed as she began to work her way through the files. She was beginning to regret putting forward the idea in the first place.
The day passed frustratingly slowly. Sonia returned from St Mungo’s, having followed up with the Healer who had examined Mary Kelly’s body. Apart from the Healer confirmed that the organs had been removed with a small, extremely sharp knife, there was no new information. Howell had returned from a visit to the restricted section of the Ministry’s Library with an armful of books on Dark Magic rituals. Hopefully, he would find some information on what the removed organs could be used for.
It was without doubt one of the most boring days Ginny had ever had. Her stack of files was thick and the information continued in them was dull, but she couldn’t afford to let her attention waiver. Her only breaks consisted of a hastily grabbed sandwich at lunchtime and various trips to the small kitchenette to refill her coffee cup. She gloomily thought that the excitement of her first two days on the job had been something of a fluke and today was a truer reflection of what Aurors really did.
By half-past five the team had reached breaking point. Howell threw the book he had been reading across his desk and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Oh, this is bloody useless,” he moaned. “So far I’ve identified twenty-five separate rituals that involve the use of a human heart and liver. They range from restoring youthful beauty to making an enemy contract a venereal disease! It seems to me that any time a Dark Wizard came up with a new curse he thought he’d better throw in a heart and liver to be on the safe side. Bastards.”
“I vote we knock this on the head for today,” Sonia said. “Who’s for a quick one at The Lantern?”
“You know, that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Susan replied.
Privately, Ginny agreed with her. She was starting to see why Aurors drank so much.
Half an hour later, the four Aurors were sitting round a table at The Broken Lantern with a drink in their hands. As she took a healthy swig of her bottle of lager, Ginny felt herself relax for the first time that day. She was determined that if she was going to face her mother again, she was going to do so with a few drinks in her.
Glancing round the pub, Ginny noticed a few familiar faces, suggesting that a number of other Aurors had felt the need for some liquid refreshment after a hard day. She didn’t blame them in the slightest.
“You alright, Ginny?” Susan asked. She’d ordered a tall glass of her favourite raspberry flavoured vodka which she clutched protectively. “You haven’t seemed very happy all day.”
“I’m alright,” Ginny assured her. “At least I will be once I move away from home. Know of any flats going cheap?”
“You’ll be bloody lucky,” Sonia jumped in. “Have you seen the price of flats these days? I bet even that shithole our murder victim lived in cost an arm and a leg. No joke intended.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Ginny said gloomily. “I shared a place with another girl when I was with the Harpies, but it was owned by the club. Even that took a big chunk of my salary. I guess I need to find someone who’ll be prepared to share.”
“Sorry, Ginny, I can’t help,” apologised Sonia. “I already share with two others at the moment. And these two are shacked up, so they can’t help.”
“Excuse me,” Howell interrupted. “If by ‘shacked up’ you mean ‘living in marital bliss’ then you’d be correct.”
“Bliss for you, maybe,” Sonia teased. “How that poor wife of yours puts up with you, I’ll never know.”
“I’m irresistible!” Howell declared loudly.
“Oh, you are!” Susan declared in girly voice. “Or you will be if you get the next round in!”
Susan dumped her empty glass in front of the big man. A second later it was followed by Sonia and Ginny’s empty bottles.
“Bugger,” Howell declared mournfully.
Chapter 4: Chapter 4 – Descent
Author's Notes: Well, I have to say I’ve thoroughly enjoyed all the guessing that has been going on in the reviews regarding the identity of the killer, even if none of them have been remotely close. Don’t worry though; I’ve only just started to give out any really clues so it would have been a miracle if anyone had got it at this point. This chapter you’ll get to see our mysterious murderer in action first hand, so you’ll get to see how he operates.
As usual, a huge thanks to Arnel for beta-ing this chapter. Hopefully I didn’t traumatise her too much with the ending…
The next morning Ginny had barely stepped into the office before Susan grabbed her and informed her that the team had to report to the Assistant Head’s office immediately. Ginny was just glad she had not been the last one to arrive; she’d beaten Owen by five minutes. Susan appeared anxious and Ginny wondered what had happened to make her so.
When the team was assembled, they made their way to Potter’s office and Susan knocked hesitantly. A forceful ‘enter!’ suggested the Assistant Head wasn’t in the best of moods. They filed into the room and were ordered to take seats.
“Have any of you seen this morning’s Daily Prophet?” Potter asked forcefully with no pretence at preamble. Susan nodded meekly, but she was the only one. Ginny had been in her usual last minute rush to get to work that morning and hadn’t even thought about looking at the paper.
Potter picked up a folded newspaper that had been lying on the desk and spread it out so they all could see the front page. Ginny looked at it and her heart sank. The headlines were certainly sensationalist:
Body parts harvested for suspected Dark Magic ritual!
A quick read through showed that whoever had written the story had unrestricted access to the crime scene, or at least had talked to someone who had. She suddenly felt fearful; she was the newest member of the team. Would they suspect her of leaking the information?
“Where did the paper get its information?” Susan demanded, obviously thinking along the same lines as Ginny.
“Don’t worry,” Potter said dismissively. “We’ve already traced the leak to one of the DMLE staff. He’s currently exploring exciting new career options. But this is going to cause us a massive headache. I was hoping to release information about the murder when we had something concrete to report. Now the press is going to be howling for results. I’ve got a press conference to attend at ten o’clock. What progress can I report? Susan?”
Susan shifted in uncomfortably her seat. “Not a lot, Harry. The killer was methodical and left no real clues at the crime scene, at all. The lack of protection at the flat meant he, or she, had multiple potential means of entry and exit. As far as we can tell, the victim had no obvious enemies, nor did her family. We’re working on the motive that this was indeed a killing to obtain body parts for a ritual.”
“What ritual?” Potter demanded. “What did this sick bastard want with the heart and liver of this poor woman?”
“Well, that’s difficult to pin down, sir,” Owen explained reluctantly. “Just from books I got from the library I identified nearly two dozen different rituals that use a human heart and liver. Most were, as you said yesterday, for cursing other family members but there were loads of other uses, too. Nothing really stuck out, though.”
“Great!” Potter snapped. “Weasley! What about your idea that this could have been the work of someone with a Muggle surgeon as a relative?”
Ginny gulped. “I’ve been through most of the criminal files of Muggle-borns. There are a few names worth checking on, but no-one who’s an obvious suspect. We’ve worked on the assumption that this wouldn’t be the killer’s first crime.”
“Valid assumption,” Potter agreed. “You don’t just wake up one morning and decide you want to start cutting people into small pieces. Start checking files on related crimes. It’s likely this type of killer would start small and work up to this. Look for animal cruelty cases, knife crimes, that sort of thing. Concentrate on Muggle-borns before moving onto half-bloods.”
“The victim was a pure-blood,” Susan pointed out. “Could that mean anything?”
“Other than the requirements of the ritual might have specified it? I bloody hope not. The last thing we need is this to get blown up as some sort of blood-status connected crime,” Potter growled.
“St Mungo’s has confirmed their initial findings,” Shehata offered. “The organs were removed with great care and skill using a small, extremely sharp knife. It could even be a surgeon’s scalpel that was used.”
“Get them to confirm that definitely,” Potter ordered. “If we can show the press a replica of the murder weapon it will be a big help. Not only will it present the illusion that we know what the hell is going on, but someone might recognise it as belonging to the killer.”
“I’ll get right on it, boss,” Shehata promised.
“Good. Anyone got anything else?” Potter asked looking round expectantly.
No one said a word.
“Absolutely wonderful!” he spat sarcastically. “I’ll just go and tell the press that we have no idea who’s chopping up women in Hogsmeade, shall I? That’ll go down well. Right, get out there and get cracking. This case is now your only concern; if you have anything else that needs attention pass it on to another team. If you find out anything of use let me know immediately, got that?”
“Yes, sir,” they all repeated.
“Go!” Potter ordered.
As she left Ginny heard Susan meekly apologise to Harry about their lack of progress. Unfortunately, she didn’t catch his reply, but it must have been extremely short judging by Susan’s rapid exit from office. Probably just a single word, she guessed. Frankly, she didn’t blame the Assistant Head one little bit. She was just about ready to start swearing herself.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Three further days of frantic investigation had brought no further leads, and the team was starting to get frustrated. Unfortunately, the murder had occurred at a time when there seemed to be no other major news stories, so the Daily Prophet had maintained high profile coverage of the crime. Potter had been forced to release daily press statements, and each time they sounded increasingly lame, even to Ginny’s ears.
After seemingly coming to a dead-end in their investigation, the team had done what all great minds do in similar situations: they had retreated to the pub. Ginny sat at a table next to Susan with Sonia and Howell opposite her. Feeling that bottled beer was just not going to cut it that evening, she had joined Susan in a glass of her favourite raspberry vodka and lemonade.
“Let’s face it,” Howell was saying. “We just don’t have enough evidence to do anything further. Whoever this evil bastard is he’s covered his tracks too well.”
“So what do we do?” Susan demanded. “Just give up? Do you think the press will let us? Do you have any idea just how much crap Harry has had to deal with from the fourth estate?”
“Oh, poor Harry. Having to deal with the nasty reporters,” Sonia said sarcastically. “That’s his job, isn’t it? I’m sure all his fans in the press will be more than happy to print whatever he says.”
“Are you out of your tiny mind?” Susan said with some heat. “There’s nothing the press would like more than to see ‘The Chosen One’ knocked down a few pegs. And so far Harry’s done a wonderful job of diverting all that shit away from us so we can concentrate on the job at hand. So wind your neck in, Shehata!”
Sonia huffed. “You’re only saying that because you…”
“I dare you to say something about Harry and me!” Susan interrupted angrily. “Go on! I double dare you! And let me tell you, missy, that you’re about five seconds away from getting your ugly face punched in!”
“ENOUGH,” Howell roared, causing everyone in the pub to look their way. “There’s no bloody use in us fighting amongst ourselves. Sonia, what you were saying about Harry is a load of crap; take it back. Susan, you’re supposed to be the bloody team leader! Team leaders do not threaten their team members with assault! Now pack it in, both of you.”
Both women looked repentant. Ginny was impressed that Howell had managed to head off the argument so quickly. He might come over as a bit of a softy at times, but he knew when to step in when required.
“Sorry, Susan,” Sonia said. “You know I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I’m just letting the pressure get to me a bit, I guess.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry too,” Susan replied. “Actually, maybe a good punch up would have helped us blow off some steam.”
“Agreed, but let’s kick the crap out of some of the DMLE wankers rather than each other, eh?” Sonia laughed.
“Good idea,” Susan said grinning. The disagreement between the two witches appeared to be over as quickly as it started. Ginny was keen for it not to start up again.
“Anyone want another drink?” she offered standing up.
“Cheers, Ginny,” Susan said pushing forward her empty glass.
“Nah, I think I’ve had enough,” Sonia said. “I’m going to pick up a Chinese take away and then have a long soak in the tub. That sounds like heaven at the moment.”
“I’ll pass as well, my little angel,” Howell said with a wink. “The ball and chain will be wondering where I’ve got to.”
“Cheap round,” Ginny said approvingly. “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”
After making her farewells to the departing Aurors, Ginny headed to the bar. The landlord was an ex-Auror called Terry who had decided that at his age running a pub was a lot less dangerous than chasing Dark wizards. He kept a lot of Auror memorabilia behind the bar and always seemed to have a way of serving members of his old department before any of the other Ministry staff who came in the pub. As a result, Ginny was handed her drinks almost immediately.
“I’ll get those,” came a masculine voice behind from behind her just as Ginny was about to pay. She turned ready to tell whatever would be Romeo that had spoken that she could get her own bloody drinks, when she found herself looking directly into the brilliant green eyes of Harry Potter.
“Oh… um, sir! You don’t need to do that,” she mumbled. Damn it! He only had to smile at her and she turned into blushing schoolgirl with a crush.
“Yeah, I do. I know how hard everyone’s been working. You need a drink,” he informed her. “I’ll have my usual, Terry.”
The landlord headed off to get the extra drink while Ginny stood feeling embarrassed.
“And remember, out of work you call me Harry. Just you and Susan out tonight?” he asked after Terry went to pull his pint.
“Yeah,” Ginny responded. “You just missed the other two.”
“Ah, right,” Harry acknowledged as he paid for the drinks.
Harry was standing extremely close to her and Ginny could faintly smell his aftershave. She knew for a fact that Potter had been on the go since eight o’clock that morning and he still smelt wonderful. Shouldn’t blokes be all sweaty and repulsive by this point in the day? She breathed in his scent while trying to appear composed.
“Mind if I join you ladies?” Harry asked picking up his pint and one of the vodka glasses.
“No! Not at all. More the merrier,” Ginny said a bit too enthusiastically. Fortunately, Harry didn’t seem to notice and just smiled at her. He then made his way over to the table where Susan was sitting and handed her the drink. Ginny retook her seat next to Susan.
“You in need of a drink, too?” Susan asked Harry as he sat himself down.
“Damn right,” he replied. “Robards has been on my back about this bloody ritual case all day.”
“I’m sorry we haven’t made more progress, Harry. We’re trying to…” Susan began, but Harry raised his hand to stop her.
“You know my rules, Susan. No shop talk when we’re having a drink,” he said sternly.
“Okay, that’s probably wise,” Susan agreed with a smile. “So how have you been? It seems like weeks since we’ve had the chance to talk properly. We didn’t really get a chance after the raid the other day.”
“Same old, same old,” Harry replied. “Nothing new going on with me, I’m afraid. I swear all I do is work, eat and sleep. Do you remember the days when we used to go out and do things?”
“It’s your own bloody fault, Potter,” Susan scolded him. “I’ve told you a million times; you need a girlfriend.”
“Yeah, well. Attractive witches don’t grow on trees you know,” he lamented before looking across the table. “You available, Ginny?”
Ginny had just been taking a sip of her drink, which she then proceeded to snort up her nose. She just managed to put her glass down as she coughed and spluttered.
“I think you broke her, Harry,” Susan laughed, patting her on the back.
“Sorry,” Ginny managed to gasp.
“See,” Harry said jokingly. “This is the reaction I get every time I try to proposition a witch. I didn’t realise I was THAT ugly.”
“Oh, poor Harry!” Susan lamented with complete insincerity. “Perhaps Pamela in the Registers and Records department will go out with you?”
“Pamela would go out with any bloke who had a pulse!” Harry retorted. “I’d have to take a number and wait my turn.”
“Now serving number thirty-five!” Susan called out. Both of them dissolved into giggles.
Ginny was rather shell-shocked by Harry’s earlier comments, but rather disappointed not to have been able to confirm that she was indeed single. Now they were making jokes about Harry dating the Ministry bike she wasn’t sure how to take it.
“What about you then?” Harry asked, addressing Susan. “That git Macmillan still not popped the question?”
“No, and I’m quite happy with the way things are at present, thank you very much. The last thing I need is for him to start banging on about getting married again,” Susan snorted.
“Again?” Harry questioned.
“Don’t go there, Harry,” Susan said warningly.
“Sweet Merlin, you’re getting cranky in your old age,” Harry muttered before turning to Ginny. “So, Ginny. Do you have a bloke stashed away somewhere?”
Ginny blushed. “Nah, I’ve been single for ages. I seems like I’m always too busy. First with Quidditch, and then Auror training. I don’t know where I’d find the time.”
“You should make the time, otherwise you’ll end up sad and lonely like this pathetic git here,” Susan said gesturing at Harry.
“Thanks, Susan,” Harry replied, sounding genuinely hurt.
“Oh, don’t give me that,” Susan replied. “You could have any bloody witch in the country if you wanted. It’s your choice to be single.”
“I don’t think you ever realised what it’s like to be me,” Harry retorted with some heat. “Virtually every girl I meet thinks they already know me intimately just because they’ve read a few made-up articles in a paper. Most just want to be able to boast to their mates that they’ve been with ‘the’ Harry Potter. Oh, and I shouldn’t forget the gold-diggers after a wealthy husband. When do I ever get the chance to get to know a girl without all the fame crap getting in the way? Sweet Merlin, Susan, do you think all I’m after is a quick shag? When have I ever been like that?”
Susan sighed.
“I’m sorry, Harry. I seem to be insulting everyone I talk to tonight. Of course you’re not like that, and yes I know how hard it is for you to meet a nice girl, not some Potter groupie. Just forget what I said.” Susan drained her drink in one. “You know, I don’t think I’m being very sociable tonight. I think I’ll head home too. See you guys.”
Susan stood and quickly left, leaving a slightly stunned Ginny watching her disappear. She’d never seen Susan like that before.
“Great,” Harry groaned. “I just wanted a few drinks and a bit of company, and I end up with Susan in one of her moods.”
“I didn’t know she could be like that,” Ginny said a little hesitantly. “She’s been really aggressive all night. I thought she and Sonia were going to end up in a punch-up earlier.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes it all gets to her a bit. I probably shouldn’t have teased her about Ernie either, that probably didn’t help. I should be able to recognise when she’s like that by now,” Harry said mournfully. “You’re not going to rush off and make me drink by myself are you, Ginny?”
Ginny looked at the handsome man sat opposite her. Whatever preconceptions she had of Harry Potter were rapidly being dispelled. He was nothing like the near mythical hero portrayed in the press. Instead, he was a hardworking, kind-natured bloke who just wanted to be judged on who he was rather than what people assumed he would be. Ginny was rapidly coming to the conclusion that if she wanted to be friends with him she would need to lose the star-struck attitude and start treating him like a regular guy. Admittedly a regular guy she fancied the pants off.
“I can stay for a while,” Ginny assured him in what she hoped was a friendly tone. “Of course, my mum thinks I’m turning into an alcoholic.”
“Do you still live at home?” Harry asked in surprise.
“Not you as well,” Ginny groaned. “It’s not by choice, I assure you. I had to give up my last flat when I left the Harpies and I simply can’t afford to rent somewhere on my own. Have you seen the price of flats these days?”
“Can’t say that I have,” Harry said. He looked at her thoughtfully for a second and seemed to be debating something. “I’ll keep my ears open if I hear of anything.”
Ginny looked at him and got the impression he was going to say something else, but had changed his mind. She mentally shrugged.
“Thanks,” she said. “It’s getting really uncomfortable at home. My mum still thinks I’m about eleven. She just can’t accept that I can do a dangerous job like being an Auror.”
“Well, you are about the size of an eleven-year-old,” Harry teased.
“Oh great! I get height jokes now, do I? Just remember, good things come in small packages,” she said grinning.
“I don’t doubt that,” Harry replied giving her another of those lopsided grins that gave her butterflies in her stomach. She was going to kill Susan for planting all those images of Harry in her head on her first day. Why did the phrase ‘fantastic sex’ keep repeating in her mind? Damn it! She decided to potentially throw some cold water on her rapidly building infatuation.
“So, Susan seemed to get a bit upset when you mentioned Ernie. Sounds like the two of them might be having some problems. If they do break up do you think you’ll get back with her at some point?” she asked hoping that she wasn’t pushing too hard. Rather than looking angry by the question, Harry just looked a bit sad.
“I doubt it,” he replied hesitatingly. “At least, I hope not.”
“What do you mean?” Ginny asked, genuinely interested.
“When Susan first moved in with Ernie, she sat me down and we had a talk,” Harry started to explain. “She basically told me that I had to stop yearning after a failed relationship. I really didn’t want to hear that at the time, but she was right. Me and Susan share a lot of history. We’ve both had hard lives and lost a lot of people we love. I think we’ve used each other as emotional crutches for a long time now. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve sat and held her as she cried all night, and vice versa. When one of us has been lonely the other one has always been there for them.”
Harry paused to drain the last dregs of his pint.
“But trouble is, we make an awful couple,” he continued. “Although we’ve had similar experiences, we’re very different people. When she moved into my house we only lasted a couple of months together. I swear, any longer and we would have killed each other. I mean, she’s an incredibly tidy, organised person who likes to plan everything out and I’m a disorganised slob who does everything on the fly. I like doing things on the spur of the moment and she hates surprises. Merlin, she even hates Quidditch! The amount of grief I used to get just trying to listen to a game on the wireless.”
“Hate Quidditch?” Ginny repeated in mock horror. “I knew there was something wrong about the girl.”
“Exactly,” Harry laughed. “I knew the relationship was doomed after she turned off the radio during a Puddlemere verses Arrows game. Damn it, both teams were on a two hundred and twenty points apiece and she decided the game had ‘gone on too long’! Madness!”
“I think I remember that game,” Ginny said with a smile. “I’m surprised you didn’t toss her out onto the street then and there! But what did you mean about you ‘hope’ that the two of you wouldn’t get together? If you’re so incompatible, why would it even be an option?”
“Susan knows me better than any person in the world,” Harry said sadly. “I know if I fall she’ll pick me up and, frankly, no-one else is there to do that for me. Besides, there are other factors.”
“The fantastic sex?” Ginny asked a little reluctantly.
“What? Bloody hell, what exactly has Susan been saying?” Harry demanded.
“Quite a bit, actually. Oh, don’t be hard on her. It’s just that I think we find it easy to talk to each other. I don’t think Susan has had a female friend she could really talk to since she left school. And once she gets a few drinks in her she can let a few details slip,” Ginny explained.
Harry snorted, looking like he wanted to be mad. In the end he just smiled.
“Do you know, you are easy to talk to. I can’t believe I’ve told you so much and I’ve only known you for about a week,” he said gently.
“I’ve always been a good listener,” she replied shyly.
“That you are. I just hope Susan hasn’t gone into too much detail,” Harry said with a wry grin.
“Oh, not too much,” Ginny assured him. “Although I do hope you’ve thoroughly cleaned your kitchen table since last Christmas.”
Harry groaned and shook his head. “I’ll have you know that occurred the Christmas before last and, yes, I’ve thoroughly cleaned the table many times since then.”
Ginny sniggered at Harry’s deep blush. She then glanced at her watch and groaned. She’d completely lost track of time.
“Harry, I’m really sorry, but I do have to go…” Ginny started to say.
“Yeah, can’t piss your mum off too much, can you? Not while you’re still living under her roof. It’s a shame, though. We seemed to mainly talk about me. I’d have liked to hear a bit more about your home life,” he said sounding sincere.
“Maybe we’ll talk about my woes next time,” she offered.
“I’d like that,” Harry said simply. “Night, Ginny. Until next time.”
“I’ll look forward to it. Night, Harry.”
And with that Ginny picked up her coat and headed out the door. It took a great deal of willpower not to glance over her shoulder and see if Harry was watching her go.
Although she had been telling the truth when she’d said that she’d not had a boyfriend for ages, she was not totally inexperienced with boys. At Hogwarts she’d had a few boyfriends, admittedly nothing too serious. She did, however, have years of experience observing her older brothers as between them they attempted to date every available witch in the country. This meant she had become pretty good at reading male body language. And what she was reading was that Harry Potter rather liked her.
Maybe life wasn’t so bad at the moment, after all.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
This place was a dump, Carrie decided. But then again, beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Sadly, she drained that last few drops from her glass of Goblin Rum. That stuff would be the death of her, she knew, but she would still be prepared to sell her own mother for a bottle. Not that the old bag was still alive, but that was beside the point.
Carrie glanced hopefully around The Crafty Goblin in the hope of finding some gullible wizard she could con another drink out of. Sadly, the place seemed nearly empty tonight. She resisted the temptation to throw her now empty glass across the room in frustration.
The Crafty Goblin was the sleaziest, most disreputable pub in the whole of Knockturn Alley, which really was saying something. Back in the ‘old days’, as Carrie fondly remembered them, this place had been thriving and she’d never had a problem finding a rugged-looking wizard to buy her drinks and keep her company for the evening. These days most of those wizards were either dead or in Azkaban thanks to Harry bloody Potter.
Carrie knew her life was going nowhere. Originally, her family, the Browns, had been a reasonably well off pure-blood family and she’d been an indulged teenage girl with a liking for a good time. Unfortunately, her family had picked the wrong side in the war and most of them were now dead. Her useless brother Carter was still alive somewhere, but she really didn’t care where exactly.
The loss of her family had hit Carrie hard. She’d never studied much in school and barely had an OWL to her name. She had few skills and little aptitude for work, so she’d fallen back on the only thing she had: her looks. She’d moved from boyfriend to boyfriend; seducing them, moving into their homes and, when the money ran out, dropping them like a stone. Sadly, the war had hugely depleted the pool of available wizards for her to prey on, and the ones that were still around knew her too well.
She stood a little uneasily and made her way to the door; perhaps she would have more luck in one of the other pubs. Suddenly, a man slammed into her nearly sending her flying.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, miss,” the man said hastily. “My fault entirely.”
“Why don’t you look where you’re going, you tosser!” Carrie yelled, struggling upright.
“I’m very sorry,” the man repeated. “Why don’t I buy you a drink as an apology?”
The magic words! thought Carrie.
“Yeah, alright,” she said. “I’ll have a large Goblin Rum.”
“Coming right up,” the man promised and made his way to the bar.
Carrie watched him go. The man was virtually non-descript. He appeared to be in his late thirties, was of average height and build, and had unremarkable brown hair. He was the sort of man you forgot seconds after you stopped looking at him. Still, he wasn’t ugly. Perhaps she could persuade him to keep her company tonight, as long as he was paying, of course.
“Here you are, Miss,” the man said after he had returned with her drink. “Once again, I’m truly sorry.”
And with that he vanished out the door before Carrie had a chance to say another word. Oh well, she shrugged, at least she’d got a free drink out of the bloke.
Twenty minutes later, she’d finished her rum and, seeing no other potential benefactors, resumed her original plan of going to another pub. She stumbled out the door of The Goblin and headed down Knockturn Alley towards the next watering hole.
She’d only gone a little way when she started to feel very strange. Her legs felt like jelly and she was having trouble focusing. Deciding she had better call it quits tonight, she pulled out her wand to Apparate home. Try as she might, however, she just couldn’t concentrate enough to make the journey. Wearily, she slumped against a nearby wall.
How long she stayed propped up against the wall she couldn’t say. Everything seemed to becoming strange and transparent. Odd coloured shapes floated before her eyes, but when she tried to touch them her fingers went through thin air. She tried to cry out for help, but her mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool.
After a while she realised she was moving. She felt a hand resting on her arm guiding her as she walked. Turning, she tried to focus on who the hand belonged to. After some effort, she recognised the man in the pub who had bought her the drink as the one who was helping her. Somewhere in the back of her mind alarm bells started to ring, but she had no idea why.
Suddenly, she felt something hard against her back and she realised she’d been pushed against a wall. Ah, so that was what the bastard was after, was he? Thought that if he bought her a drink he had the right to screw her in some dark alleyway? Yeah, the bastard was pulling off her robes! But why couldn’t she do anything about it? Why couldn’t she move or shout? Panic started to grip her. Merlin, she’d been drugged! The bastard had drugged her. He must have put some kind of potion in the drink he bought her.
With the knowledge of what had happened starting to seep into her brain, Carrie tried to fight back. Try as she might, she could do little but flop her arms around and mumble. She felt herself slowly slip to the floor. The man crouched over her and continued removing her upper clothing. This confused Carrie, why wasn’t the bastard removing her skirt and knickers. Surely that was what he was after, wasn’t it?
While still desperately trying to struggle, Carrie’s vision started to clear slightly. She saw she was lying in some dark, rubbish-strewn back alley with no sign of life. She again tried to scream, but no sound came out. The man continued to lurk over her, staring at her with cold grey eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a quiet, polite voice. “But you have something I need.”
The man reached into his robes and pulled something out. It took a few seconds for Carrie to register that it was a small knife. Total panic started to consume her and she tried again to scream without success.
Without another word the man began cutting.
Chapter 5: Chapter 5 – Misdirection
Author's Notes: Can I just apologise in advance for this chapter’s mention of Ron Weasley’s toilet habits.
Massive thanks to Arnel for her continued attempts at making me understand capitalisation and hyphen usage in the world of Ms Rowling. Oh, and my choices of singular vs. plural verb tenses went completely to pot this time round. I have a very limited amount of space in my brain and it appears that every time I learn a new grammatical rule I forget an old one. I’m blaming the alcohol, personally.
The alarm clock rang as it was wont to do every morning, and Ginny dragged herself from her bed. She washed and dressed without consciously paying much attention to what she was doing. Fortunately, she managed to put all her clothing on the right way round. Her mind was elsewhere this morning.
Making her way downstairs, she entered the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea. Ron was already sitting at the kitchen table stuffing his face while her mother darted around, no doubt preparing her son’s second breakfast course. Poor Ron, Ginny thought sarcastically, so much food; so few hours in the day to eat it all. No wonder he always stunk out the toilet when he used it.
Moving over to the table, Ginny picked up a piece of toast from the pile stacked on a plate and was amused to see her brother glare at her resentfully. Whether this was because she had dared to actually eat some of the available food, or just his normal jealousy of her, she couldn’t decide.
As she munched her toast she glanced around to see if the paper was available. Seeing it sitting folded on the counter, she stood and retrieved it. She returned to her seat and spread it out in front of her to read. It took a few seconds for the headlines to register in her brain.
“Oh, shit!” she cursed.
“Ginny! I will not have you using language like that in the house!” her mother rebuked her. “What on earth has got you so upset?”
“I’ll have to go,” Ginny responded, pushing back her chair. “There’s been another murder.”
“Oh, I saw the front page. Horrid, isn’t it?” her mother agreed with a shudder. “Wait, why do you have to rush into work? Surely you haven’t got anything to do with this?”
“Of course I have,” Ginny said irritably as she moved to collect her cloak. “I’ve been involved in the investigation of the first murder.”
“No wonder they haven’t caught the bloke who did it yet,” Ron smirked.
Ginny resisted the urge to punch him in the face.
“But you’ve only just started!” her mother objected. “They can’t expect you to be involved in a horrible thing like this!”
“I’m part of the team investigating these crimes, Mum. I’m an Auror; that’s what we do,” Ginny snapped. Her mother’s overprotectiveness was becoming unbearable.
“You shouldn’t be mixed up in this sort of thing!” Molly wailed. “You’re only a young girl, you shouldn’t… wait! Where are you going?”
Not trusting herself to reply, Ginny threw her cloak on over her Auror robes and headed for the Floo. Without a backwards glance, she threw the Floo powder into the flames and a few seconds later arrived at the Ministry. She hurried to her workplace, muttering murderously about her family as she went. She arrived to find the others already there.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” Susan said, noting her arrival. “I’m sure you have all heard there’s been another murder. The duty team are already on site and we’re to follow on immediately. Everyone got their gear? Good, let’s go.”
Fifteen minutes later they stood in a dingy side street that led off of Knockturn Alley. A large crowd had already gathered at the entrance to the Alley and was being held back by other Aurors. It was with some trepidation that Ginny approached the body that lay on the cold stone floor.
“It has all the hallmarks of our killer,” Susan announced as she examined the body.
“The poor woman has certainly been carved open the same way,” Sonia agreed. “Have the same organs been removed?”
Susan flicked her wand a few times. “Yeah, her heart and liver are missing. Damn.”
Ginny could only look on sadly at the prostrate body. The girl’s face had been contorted in death suggesting she had died in great pain. The few smudges of make-up that remained looked grossly out of place. She’d been stripped to the waist, but her body was so mutilated that no man would ever have found pleasure looking at her. Even so, Ginny had the urge to conjure a blanket to cover the poor girl.
“It’s probably a waste of time, but we should make an appeal for witnesses,” Susan decided.
Ginny knew exactly what her team leader meant. They were standing in Knockturn Alley: home of criminals, pure-blood supremacists and assorted scum, all of whom had one thing in common — they hated Aurors. What happened in Knockturn Alley normally stayed in Knockturn Alley. A secret code of silence ensured no law official would ever find the slightest co-operation here.
Suddenly, Ginny felt enormously angry. This girl was one of the Alley’s own. Judging by her looks, she’d come here for a night out and had ended up being brutally butchered. But did it matter to the crowd pressing at the end of the Alley? No, they looked on in the hope that they’d get to see a dead body and a bit of blood. Bastards. Ginny stomped down to the end of the Alley and stood just behind the Aurors who were performing crowd control duties.
“A woman has been viciously murdered in this alley sometime between ten o’clock and midnight last night,” she shouted. The crowd was instantly silent and one of the Aurors looked back over his shoulder at Ginny in surprise.
“Did anyone happen to witness the crime or see anything suspicious happening last night?” Ginny continued.
The crowd was silent apart from a few muffled chuckles from the back. Ginny tried again.
“Did anyone see anything?” she yelled.
“Why should we tell you if we did?” an unidentified voice called.
“This woman was killed right here!” Ginny retorted. “Don’t you want the sick bastard who killed her to be caught?”
“Like you lot would do anything to help us,” the voice called again. “If there’s a problem in the Alley, we’ll deal with it!”
A chorus of voices yelled their agreement and several people waved their fists in the air.
“Are you trying to start a riot?” hissed the Auror who had turned to her.
Ginny ignored him.
“I promise, if you help us catch this person, that proper justice will be served to them. If you’d just…” Ginny’s voice was drowned out by jeers and shouts. She tried yelling over the noise but most of the crowd were now hurling abuse at her. She was just about to draw her wand and cast a Sonorus spell when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and saw Susan looking at her sadly.
“Nice try, Ginny, but it’s no use. They’ll never help us,” she told Ginny. “Come back to the crime scene and help us look for clues.”
Letting her shoulders slump, Ginny allowed herself to be led back to the body. The crowd didn’t care about the victim, she realised. They just wanted an opportunity to spew their hatred and contempt at a figure of authority. It wouldn’t have mattered if it had been their own mothers that were laying dead, the embittered low-lifes that had gathered here wouldn’t have said a word to help an Auror.
As they walked back Ginny idly wondered how long she would have to be in the job before she would stop caring what the mob thought of her.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
As was becoming normal during the investigation, the team had been called into the Assistant Head Auror’s office just before lunchtime to deliver a progress report. As the team took their seats, which were arranged around Potter’s desk, Ginny couldn’t help but notice that the man himself looked extremely grim.
“The victim was a single woman named Carrie Brown,” Susan said, kicking things off. “She was twenty-two years old and apparently unemployed. The only surviving relative is a brother who we are still trying to trace.”
“Blood status?” Harry asked.
“Pure-blood,” Susan replied. “Her mother and father fought in the war on the ‘other’ side. Both were confirmed killed in the final battle.”
“Damn,” Harry said shaking his head. “Have we confirmed that it was definitely the same killer?”
“Ninety-nine per cent certain, I’m afraid. Both women had their heart and liver removed with great care and skill. There are corresponding similarities in the way the organs were removed in both cases. The knife used seems to be the same, as well.” Susan’s face was a mask of professionalism, but Ginny could tell that inside her friend was very angry.
“Okay, it’s the same killer,” Harry acknowledged. “Did he or she leave us any new clues this time?”
“No,” Susan confirmed. “The site is completely clean and there were no signs of magic being used at all. The body is at St Mungo’s being looked at as we speak. The locals, despite Ginny’s best efforts, have been less than forthcoming in providing information.”
“Yeah, I heard Miss Weasley tried to bully the whole of Knockturn Alley into talking,” Harry said with a smirk. Ginny blushed at the attention. “But the fact remains we have no new clues and we’re no closer to figuring out who did this, is that right?”
“Unless St Mungo’s comes up with something… no, we’re no closer to solving this,” Susan admitted.
“Okay, that’s what I thought,” Harry confirmed. “I’ve been in conference this morning with the Head Auror and the Minister for Magic himself. Both of them are deeply concerned about this case and the possible ramifications from it. The killer appears to be preying on pure-bloods and this is creating all sorts of political upheavals. The pure-blood lobby is using these deaths as an excuse to claim that they have been persecuted since the end of the war and to demand more powers to protect themselves. The last thing we need right now is the pure-bloods re-establishing themselves as a major political power. We need to find this killer before this situation is turned into a political crisis.”
“Sweet Merlin,” Susan muttered with a slight smile. “Harry Potter… actually thinking about political motivations and effects. What is the world coming to?”
“You were always the one who thought about that stuff, Susan,” Harry responded. “You’ve obviously taught me well.”
“Maybe,” she agreed. “But with the Minister involved I assume something’s about to change. Have we been taken off the case?”
“No, you haven’t,” Harry said apologetically. “But I have been appointed to head the investigation.”
Susan seemed to think about that for a second. “That makes sense, Harry,” she said. “The Minister can now say that he’s assigned Harry Potter to the case. From a public point of view he’s showing that he’s giving the matter top priority. I mean, putting ‘The Chosen One’ onto the problem? What more could he do?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Harry said dismissively. “All it really means is that I’ve got to drop all my work and you get one more team member. Whoopee-do. We still need a break in this case.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something, Harry. You normally do,” Susan said grinning.
“Thanks,” Harry responded sarcastically. “Right, as this case has now become the department’s top priority, I’ve arranged to take over interview room one which will now be our incident room. We’ll move all the evidence from the case in there and it will give us a bit of space to spread out. But before we do that I suggest we head down to the canteen and get a bite to eat. It’s going to be a long day.”
“Okay, as long as you’re buying, Harry,” Susan replied.
“Aren’t I always?” Harry said tragically.
Ginny laughed.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
The four, now five, team members made their way to the Ministry canteen for a hasty lunch before they transferred their operations to the assigned interview room. Secretly, Ginny was thrilled that she would actually be working with Harry and was keen to see how he operated.
Remembering Susan’s warning about eating hot food from the canteen, Ginny selected a chicken salad for herself after she noted Susan had already gone for that option. Harry, bravely or foolishly, ordered a cooked meal, although Ginny wasn’t absolutely sure what it was.
Ginny and Susan sat next to each other and Harry came and sat opposite them. Sonia and Howell sat at a nearby table gossiping. Ginny had been surprised to find the big Welshman was as much of a gossip as his partner. Perhaps that’s why they worked so well together?
“What is that you’re eating, Harry?” Susan asked eyeing Harry’s plate in disgust.
“Curry and chips… I think,” he replied, prodding an unidentified piece of meat with his knife.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Susan sniffed. “Does this canteen serve anything without chips?”
“This salad,” Ginny pointed out.
“I do not consider three wet lettuce leaves and a spring onion to be ‘a salad’,” Susan sniffed.
“Susan, eating here is cheap, quick and convenient; that’s why we come here,” said Harry in a voice which suggested this was an old topic. “If you solve this case I promise to take you out to the swankest restaurant you can find and buy you a slap-up meal, okay?”
“Only Susan?” Ginny teased. “What happens if I’m the one who finds the vital clue?”
“In that case we’ll dump Susan at the nearest McDonalds and I’ll wine and dine you instead,” Harry said grinning.
“Thanks!” Susan snorted indignantly. “Although I’m sure you’d be better suited to a cheap burger place than me!”
“Ooooohhh,” Harry teased, clutching at an imaginary handbag. “I’m sorry we don’t all have your refined tastes, Miss Bones.”
“Refined? Harry, if it was up to you, you’d probably eat steak and chips Monday through to Saturday, with a greasy burger for dinner on the Sunday!” Susan accused him.
“Sounds fine to me,” Ginny chipped in. “I could just go for a nice juicy bit of sirloin about now.”
“See, Susan?” Harry said. “I’m not as abnormal as you think. Ginny appreciates good, hearty fare as well.”
Susan said nothing, but viscously forked a piece of chicken on her plate instead.
“So, Ginny,” Harry said turning his attention to her. “Any luck with the flat hunting?”
“No, not that I’ve really had a chance to look,” Ginny admitted. “I really must try and find the time, though. The way things are going, I’ll have killed either my brother or my mum by the end of the month.”
“Ron still being an arse?” Susan asked. Ginny nodded in reply. “Well, you know my opinion of your brother.”
“You know Ginny’s family?” Harry asked in surprise.
“Not that well,” Susan confessed. “I was in the same year as Ginny’s brother Ron at Hogwarts. I’m afraid I had a bit of a run in with him during our last year there. He’d just split up with his girlfriend, um…”
“Hermione Granger,” Ginny supplied. “She was far too good for him.”
“That’s it; Hermione. Wonder what she’s doing now?” Susan pondered. “Anyway, after splitting up with her, Ron decides that I would be a suitable replacement. His chat up speech was just amazing. After virtually admitting that he would just be going out with me to make Hermione jealous, he then implies that I should be grateful for him asking me because he was a big-shot Quidditch captain, and that if I dropped my knickers often enough I could have the privilege of hanging out with him and his friends!”
“Nice,” Harry noted. “What did you do to him?”
“She hexed him within an inch of his life,” Ginny interrupted. “I could have kissed you that day, Susan. Ron had been winding me up for so long it was a joy to watch him vomit slugs. Oh, and those exploding boils lasted for weeks!”
“Bloody hell, Susan,” Harry said laughing. “I got off lightly when we split up, didn’t I?”
“I can still decide to punish you retrospectively,” Susan threatened. “So, my hexing didn’t induce Ron to change his ways, then?”
“Nah, he’s still a first class prat,” Ginny lamented. “First, he gets jealous because I get hired by a professional Quidditch team and he didn’t, even though he’s an average Keeper at best. Then, when I decide to pack that in and become an Auror, he’s jealous about that. Never mind the fact that he sat on his arse throughout most of his seventh year at Hogwarts and managed to only get two NEWTS”.
“I always thought that Hermione carried him a bit,” Susan admitted.
“A bit?” Ginny scoffed. “After they split up I don’t think Ron handed a single piece of homework in on time. He just sat there reading Quidditch magazines, propositioning any witch who walked by and moaning that he was hard-done by. Believe me, he hasn’t changed a bit.”
“I can see why you want to escape,” Harry sympathised. “So, what are you looking for? A proper flat or a house-share, or what?”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Ginny admitted. “I doubt I can afford a proper flat unless I find someone to share with. I suppose renting a room somewhere would be okay if I knew the people I was living with, but you have to be so careful, don’t you?”
“Let me think about this, Ginny,” Harry offered. “I may be able to find you something suitable.”
“Great! Let me know if you do,” Ginny said enthusiastically.
Susan looked suspiciously at Harry. “I think we’d better get back to work,” she announced.
Nodding, the three Aurors pushed their plates away and left the canteen. Ginny couldn’t help but notice the hard glares that Susan was directing at Harry’s back.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Next morning, Ginny ensured she was into work extra early. Setting up the new operations room the previous day had gone smoothly and everyone had agreed that the extra space was a great benefit. Several new ideas had been floated about, and the team seemed to gain a confidence boost. On her way in to the office Ginny encountered Howell and Sonia who seemed equally keen to get started that morning.
As soon as she entered the converted interview room Ginny knew something had happened. Harry and Susan were already there and they were standing together examining what appeared to be a copy of that morning’s Daily Prophet. The grim expressions on their faces suggested that whatever they were reading was not good news.
“Come in, you three,” Harry instructed when he noticed them. “We have a new problem.”
Potter spread the paper out on the desk in front of him and the team crowded round to read. Ginny gasped out loud when she read the headlines.
Attacks Are Revenge Against Pure-blood Community!
When will ‘The Executioner’ strike again?
Late last night the Daily Prophet received a letter professing to be from the killer of the two young women found in dead Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley recently, explaining his actions and threatening further violence, writes Trevor Babcock, Senior News Correspondent.
The letter, which was dropped off at the Prophet’s reception desk by a cloaked man who did not speak to our staff, states that the murders are in revenge for alleged atrocities supposedly carried out by pure-blood witches and wizards against Muggles during the last war. The full text of the letter is as follows: -
I write this letter so you should all know my true purpose and intent.
By now you will be aware of my sacred work to rid this country of all pure-blood magic users. Laughingly, I see that the powers that be think I attacked those two witches to harvest body parts for some Dark Magic rite. That you all should be taken in by this poppycock is testimony to what fools you all are!
I will tell you the real reason my knife has been put to such worthy work: to kill all the pure-bloods! For too long have the hated pure-bloods trodden on the backs of me and my fellow Muggles. I swear I will not rest until every person killed during the last war is avenged.
The knife I use is the same that Muggle surgeons use to cut diseased organs out of their patients and I will use it to cut out the disease that is the pure-bloods!
You have been warned; I will strike again!
The Executioner
Clearly this disturbing and irrational letter cast doubts on the statement released by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement recently claiming the crimes are of a ritualistic nature and suggests they have been pursuing the wrong lines of enquiry.
When asked to comment, respected businessman and pure-blood lobbyist Draco Malfoy made the following comment:
“This letter is an extremely disturbing development and clearly shows that the DMLE have been looking at this matter all wrong. Frankly, I’m not surprised by this as there seems to be a culture of discrimination against pure-bloods by the Ministry ever since the war. To assume that all pure-bloods followed Lord Voldemort is plainly ridiculous, but the DMLE, and particularly the Auror Department, seem to tar us all with the same brush.
The murdering maniac who wrote this letter seems to represent the typical reaction most Muggles have to the magical community when they discover our existence. I have long said that the Statute of Secrecy is insufficient to protect us and stronger laws are required. If the Aurors cannot protect us, then I call on the Wizengamot to provide us with greater powers to protect ourselves.”
Clearly, now the true identity of the killer has been made clear, many questions will be raised. Why has the Auror Department persisted in stating the killings were to harvest body parts for ritualistic use? What are they hiding from us? Why have steps not been taken to protect the magical community from the murderous impulses of Muggles such as this one?
Mr Malfoy speaks for many wizards and witches who are uncomfortable with the shackles placed on them by the Ministry and demand the right to protect themselves and their families. How many more helpless young witches have to die before action is taken. We at the Prophet demand that this barbaric killer is brought to justice immediately and that changes are made in the law that the honest people of the Wizarding world can defend themselves from Muggle aggression.
For further coverage see pages 2, 3, 4, and 8.
“Does anyone believe this pile of unicorn shit?” Howell demanded as soon as he had finished reading.
“How can the killer be a Muggle? The murders were committed in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley! A Muggle wouldn’t even be able to see those places!” Sonia pointed out in an exasperated voice.
“It seems a bit of a coincidence that Draco bloody Malfoy just happened to be available to provide a statement as well,” Susan noted.
“What do we know about this Draco Malfoy?” Harry asked. “I crossed swords with Lucius Malfoy a number of times, but I know nothing about his son.”
“He’s a worm,” Susan said with heat. “A sneering, pompous arse who is convinced of his own superiority over everyone just because his family have been a bunch of inbreeds for centuries. At Hogwarts he was a cowardly bully who relied on his followers to fight his battles for him, and his daddy’s name to get him out of trouble when his mouth ran away from him.”
“As much as I hated him, Lucius was a dangerous foe,” Harry noted.
“Draco isn’t half the wizard his father was, he just thinks he is,” Susan snorted. “He’s a petty, vindictive, little bastard who only escaped Azkaban because he was hiding in a deep, dark hole during the final battle against Voldemort.”
“He is a sneakily little git though,” Ginny pointed out. “Trying to profit from these murders is exactly the sort of thing he would do.”
“Sounds like you both have a high opinion of Mr Malfoy junior,” Harry noted with a smile.
“I think anyone who wasn’t a Slytherin at Hogwarts hated him,” Susan noted. “I believe Ginny here may have been responsible for hexing him a few times.”
“He hated my family,” Ginny explained. “A light pure-blood family was always going to be a target for him. He tried all sorts of nasty little schemes to get me and my brothers into trouble. That’s the way he works; he plots and plans, but he never does anything that would put himself in danger if he can help it.”
“I’d put every Galleon I owned on Draco being behind this letter,” Susan agreed. “I bet he bribed the journalist to print it as if it was fact, as well.”
“We need to squash this now,” Harry said flatly. “We can’t afford to have some pure-blood idiot hijacking the investigation for his own means. We need to prove that this letter is a fake.”
“But how?” Susan objected. “Everything in the letter is true. Admittedly, all the facts could easily been pulled out of the previous day’s Prophet, but the public won’t care about that. Even as we speak I bet ‘The Executioner’ is being written into folk lore!”
Harry looked thoughtful for a minute before a smile came onto his face.
“Oh, I know that expression!” Susan announced. “You’re either going to do something incredibly stupid or incredibly sneaky. Which is it, Potter?”
“Sneaky,” Harry confirmed. “The information in the letter was all factual as far as it went, or at least Draco thinks it is. We’re going to convince him that there was an error which he will desperately try to correct.”
The gathered Aurors all looked at him speculatively.
“Okay, here’s what we are going to do. Howell and Sonia, go and pull in this Babcock bloke who wrote this article. Tell him we know it’s a fake and hint we have evidence to prove it. Suggest that unless we receive full co-operation we’re going to have a sudden desire to start a new investigation into bribes paid to the press. Promise him that as long as he just agrees to be shadowed for a day or so we’ll look the other way this time. Susan and Ginny, the three of us are going to visit Mr Malfoy. I’m afraid that as an inexperienced Auror, Ginny, you’re going to let something slip that you shouldn’t. Hopefully, Draco will then run to his pet journalist and we can nab him.”
“But how are we going to convince Malfoy that there was something wrong with the letter?” Susan demanded.
“Simple,” Harry explained. “We lie through our teeth.”
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
As he, Susan and Ginny Apparated to the outskirts of the Malfoy estate, Harry suppressed a shudder. He’d been to this place before, late in the war when he’d been hunting Voldemort. In the end, the final battle had occurred in the Atrium of the Ministry itself, but the fight that had occurred in the grounds of Malfoy Manor had been bad enough. He’d lost some good friends here.
With the two witches flanking him on either side, Harry marched to the front gates of the estate and rang the bell. A few seconds later, a harassed-looking house-elf appeared and Harry demanded to see Malfoy. The elf vanished for a few minutes and then reappeared stating it had instructions to escort them to its master.
They were shown to an extremely elaborate reception room and informed that Draco Malfoy would be with them shortly. Harry stood and took in his surroundings with interest. He’d never seen so much gold-leaf used in decorating a room before and idly wondered if they’d been put in this room to prove a point. Judging by the deep frown on Ginny’s face, she didn’t approve of the décor at all.
After a sizable and rather predictable wait, the door opened and Draco Malfoy made his grand entrance. He was dressed in the finest silk robes, which were covered in exquisite decoration and were tailored to the highest standards. His hair looked like he had spent all morning in a salon and he smelt of expensive cologne. The expression on his face was one of such self-centred smugness that Harry had to restrain himself from slapping the man.
“Well, well, well,” Draco said with barely disguised contempt. “I am honoured. I’d expected a visit from the Auror Department, but I hadn’t expected ‘the Chosen One’ himself. Shame you had to befoul my property by bringing these other two wenches, but never mind.”
“I think we can do without the insults, Mr Malfoy,” Harry said sharply. “I assume that by your last comment you know why we’re here?”
“But of course,” Draco replied in a haughty voice. “I had been expecting agents of the corrupt Ministry to turn up ever since I spoke the truth in this morning’s paper. So what are your intensions, Potter? Do you think that by turning up at my home you will intimidate me to withdraw my comments? I think you’ll find I’m made of sterner stuff! It will take more than a few Aurors invading my privacy to prevent me exposing your lies!”
“I’m sorry, Mr Malfoy,” Harry said in a calm voice, “but I rather think you’ve got hold of the wrong end of the stick. We’re here to investigate the fake letter published by the Prophet this morning and track down the instigator. Whoever he, or she, is we fully intend to prosecute them for interfering in a murder investigation.”
“How typical,” Draco sneered. “Instantly assuming that the letter is a fake! Where’s your proof, Potter?”
“Oh, that’s not in the slightest doubt,” Susan said, joining the conversation. “The letter contains a glaring factual error that the real killer would have known.”
“What! But I carefully checked its contents against the press release! Err… just to establish it was authentic, of course,” Draco said. The arrogant sneer had left his face for the moment.
“Oh, it would have matched the press release,” Harry confirmed. “It’s standard policy in cases such as this to include a piece of misinformation in statements released to the press. That way if we do get some crackpot trying to claim responsibility, such as in this case, we can easily identify them easily.”
“What?” exclaimed Draco. “You mean part of what the press have printed is lies?”
“Can you really imagine trying to cut someone’s heart out with a tiny little knife?” snorted Ginny.
“Weasley!” Harry growled. “That’s classified information!”
“Sorry, sir,” Ginny apologised, looking contrite.
“Anyway,” Harry continued, sounding rather annoyed, “as you will gather, the true murderer would have known the real type of knife used, so this letter is obviously a fake. In view of the great concern you showed, I wanted to assure you personally that this fabrication is no cause for worry.”
“Thank you, Auror Potter,” said Draco, sounding a little sick. Harry mentally smirked to himself. Draco was clearly no match for his father in playing these types of games.
“I’m glad to have cleared this matter up,” Harry replied offering a polite smile. With a gesture he indicated for Ginny and Susan to take their leave. Just as they were nearly through the door Draco called out to them.
“I’m still concerned that these attacks are directed at the pure-blood community,” the blond haired man called. “You will keep me informed of developments, won’t you?”
“I’m afraid all information pertaining to the case will be strictly top secret,” Harry said spreading his hands apologetically. “Should we find any evidence that these murders are racially motivated against pure-bloods we will, of course, take the necessary steps to protect those at risk. Good afternoon, Mr Malfoy.”
Harry turned and walked rapidly out of the room before Draco could speak again. The three Aurors left the house and walked to the perimeter of the property in complete silence. It was only after they had Apparated back to the Ministry did they turn to face each other.
“That slimy little git,” Susan raged. “Calling us ‘wenches’ indeed.”
“Yeah, but the plan worked perfectly,” Ginny said happily. “The idiot nearly blurted out he wrote the letter! What a prat!”
“Well, the trap is baited,” Harry agreed. “Let’s see if Mr Malfoy is stupid enough to walk into it.”
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Several hours later, a rather agitated young man made his way through the offices of the Daily Prophet. He had been back here many times before and knew exactly where he was going.
Soon he arrived at a door marked ‘Trevor Babcock — Senior News Correspondent’ which he threw open and entered without knocking. The middle-aged, slightly overweight man sat behind the desk in the office looked up in surprise.
“Mr Malfoy!” the man exclaimed. “You shouldn’t be here. If anyone see’s you here…”
“Never mind that, Babcock,” Draco snapped. “You’ve made me look a bloody fool!”
“What?” Babcock exclaimed. “How? I’ve done nothing that would reflect badly on you, Mr Malfoy, I assure you.”
“Don’t play games with me,” Draco snarled. “The Aurors know that the letter from the murderer was a fake. They all but bloody accused me of writing it, as well!”
“But how could they know?” Babcock stuttered. “There was nothing in that letter which could have proved who it came from either way.”
“Apparently, the Aurors put duff information in their press releases as standard procedure purposely to stop this sort of thing happening,” Draco yelled. “So I have to ask myself, are you too incompetent to know this, or were you trying to set me up?”
“Set you up? Never! I’d never do such a thing, Mr Malfoy,” Babcock pleaded.
“Damn it, Babcock! What use are you to me if you don’t know this sort of thing? I pay you good money to be my voice in the press and I’m not getting my money’s worth!” Draco was angry now. He slammed his fist down onto Babcock’s desk. “You need to sort this mess out now.”
“But how?” Babcock asked. “If the Aurors know that the letter is a fake, what can we do?”
“Apparently, the knife used in the attacks wasn’t a Muggle scalpel; we can use that. Maybe we can write another letter saying the first was just a test to throw the authorities off? No, that doesn’t sound right,” Draco mused. “How about we just claim it was a misprint?”
“Err, I’m not sure that would work,” Babcock said hesitantly.
“No, maybe not,” Draco agreed with a frown. “Well, you think of something! I was gaining some useful political support thanks to that stupid letter; I’m damned if I’m throwing that away. Maybe if I write another letter exactly the same just changing the details of the murder weapon and you swop it with the original. I’ve still got the first draft of the letter so it won’t be hard to change…”
He was so wrapped up trying to think of ways to salvage his plan that he didn’t notice a dark-haired, female Auror emerge from underneath an Invisibility Cloak directly behind him.
Draco Malfoy’s political aspirations were about to take a large blow.
Chapter 6: Chapter 6 – I Have No Name
Author's Notes: Chapter 6? We’re halfway through already? How did that happen?
Anyway, with Draco safely dealt with, the team can press on with hunting our mysterious killer down, although they are going to hit a few more problems on the way, naturally. We also start to get a lot more H/G action from this point onwards, which at least will lighten what has been a pretty grim story up to now.
BTW, someone is right on the verge of guessing who the killer is (don’t bother going through the reviews to figure out who, this discussion was via private message). All I will say is that this person applied a logical thought process to all the clues and worked out the killer’s motivation and situation. The killer’s identity has been narrowed down to a few suspects, and I’m just awaiting a name from this clever person (you know who you are – I’m still waiting for that p.m!)
May I also ask you to all bow in reverence to Arnel, the fastest beta in the West (or East, depending where you are where you’re reading this). Thanks, Arnel!
It was early evening when the team finally reconvened in the incident room.
“Oh, it was beautiful,” Sonia recounted to her colleagues. “When Malfoy finally noticed me, he must have jumped six feet in the air! And Merlin forbid that I should ever scream in such a girly way, either!”
“I would have paid good money to see that,” Ginny laughed.
“Me, too,” Susan agreed. “You’ll have to let us view a Pensieve memory of it, Sonia.”
“Okay,” Harry interrupted, calling them to order. “We’ve managed to get rid of an annoying diversion, but it hasn’t helped us track down the real killer. Do we have anything new?”
“Actually, Harry, we do,” Susan said, holding up a piece of parchment. “The autopsy report came back from St Mungo’s on Carrie Brown. It took so long because the Healers there didn’t recognise what they were seeing. Have a look.”
Susan handed the report to Harry, who scanned through it rapidly. He paused when he reached the section that detailed any potions that might be found in the decease’s body. Frowning, he reread the section several times.
“So, they had to consult a Muggle hospital to identify these substances in Brown’s bloodstream?” he clarified.
“Yeah, the Healers had never encountered these chemicals before. Apparently, the Muggle hospital wasn’t too sure about them either, but on checking their records they found a similar cocktail of drugs had been used during a spate of sexual assaults committed back in the eighties. Oh, before you ask they caught the bloke who committed the assaults and he’s still behind bars. The crimes were fairly well publicised at the time, though,” Susan explained.
“What exactly did these drugs do?” Howell enquired. “And how did they get into the Brown girl?”
“The drugs were an unusual mix of a hallucinogenic and a paralysing agent. Basically, Brown would have been completely off her head and barely able to move. They appeared to have been ingested in a liquid, probably the Goblin Rum we know she’d been drinking. The interesting thing about this mix is that it’s fairly slow acting, meaning the killer could have slipped it to her and then just waited for her to leave the pub. After that, it would have been easy to guide her to a secluded spot. This was a well-planned attack,” Susan noted.
“Just like the first one was,” Harry agreed. “Where would someone pick up this mix of drugs?”
“Ah, another point of interest. Commercially, this mix does not exist anywhere. Whoever did this mixed it up themselves. Not only are we apparently looking for someone with Muggle medical experience, but pharmacological knowledge as well,” Susan explained.
“But these are both Muggle drugs, right?” Harry asked.
Susan nodded. “They have no magical properties whatsoever.”
“So the killer has knowledge of and access to Muggle drugs and surgical equipment. In addition, he or she used no magic during the attack at all,” Harry pondered. “Up to this point, we’ve steadfastly believed the killer couldn’t be a Muggle due to the location of the murders, but if it isn’t, this person knows a hell of a lot about the Muggle world.”
“Could it be a Squib?” Ginny asked.
“You know, that’s not a bad call,” Susan said. “It could certainly explain a few things.”
“Yeah, let’s start looking at the register of known Squibs, and try and cross-reference it with the information we already have. If we can identify any potential suspects we can get the Muggle Liaison Unit to check to see if any of them have a police record,” Harry said. “This could be promising. Good thinking, Ginny.”
“Absolutely, good work Ginny,” Susan added. “Right, I think we should knock it on the head for the evening. I don’t know about anyone else, but I want a drink to celebrate the arrest of Draco Malfoy. Who’s going to join me?”
There was general agreement to Susan’s plan apart from Harry who sadly shook his head.
“I’ve got to give an up-date to Robards,” he lamented. “You guys will have to have one for me. Actually, before you rush off can I have a word, Ginny?”
The other three Aurors headed out on their way to the pub, although Susan did look back quizzically at Harry. He merely waved goodnight to her, and waited until she vanished out the door. Ginny stood looking a bit nervous.
“Don’t worry, Ginny,” Harry assured her. “I only wanted to have a word about your search for a place to live. I may have found somewhere for you.”
“Really?” Ginny exclaimed. “That’s brilliant! Where is it?”
“Not too far north, actually, in Islington. You’d be renting a room, but it does have its own en-suite shower and toilet. It’s a pretty good size, too.”
“Sounds promising,” Ginny agreed. “Whose house is it?”
“Um, mine,” Harry mumbled.
“What?” Ginny blurted. “Your house?”
“Yeah, you see I live in a pretty big place and, frankly, I’m rattling around by myself. I’ve been thinking for a while about getting a lodger, but I was dreading what sort of person would turn up if I just stuck an advert in The Prophet’s property section. I figured that we seem to get on alright, so I’d offer a room to you,” he explained.
“Um, okay,” Ginny said, slightly stunned. She was struggling to get her brain around the idea of actually living with Harry Potter.
“I mean, no pressure!” Harry said quickly. “If you’re not comfortable about house sharing with a bloke then fair enough. Or if the fact that I’m your boss puts you off I understand.”
“No!” Ginny said quickly. “I’m interested, honest. You just caught me by surprise.”
“Oh, good,” Harry said with a smile. “Well, why don’t you come over and have a look at the place sometime and see what you think.”
“Great! Just let me know when and I‘ll be there,” Ginny agreed.
“Tomorrow night?” he suggested.
“I can’t wait,” Ginny agreed.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
A while later, Ginny wandered into the Broken Lantern humming to herself happily. The thought of actually escaping the strained atmosphere of the Burrow cheered her up immensely; as did the praise she had received for her idea that the killer might be a Squib. She’d feared that she could contribute nothing to the investigation, but so far she had proved herself to be a good Auror.
Looking round the crowded pub, she spotted her team mates clustered round a table towards the back. After buying herself a drink at the bar, she headed over to join them.
As normal, Howell and Sonia were locked in conversation regarding the alleged romantic indiscretions of various colleagues, while Susan looked on with an amused expression. As soon as Susan spotted Ginny, she scooted over and made space for her to sit.
“So, what did Harry want to talk to you about?” Susan asked as soon as Ginny had made herself comfortable.
“Oh, he may have a solution to my flat hunting problems. Apparently, he’d been thinking of taking a lodger in, so he offered to rent me a room,” Ginny said.
“A lodger? This is the first I’ve heard of it,” Susan said in disbelief.
“He said he’d been thinking about it for a while, but didn’t want just anyone turning up,” Ginny explained. She wondered why Susan seemed to assume that she would have been consulted regarding the matter.
“I don’t think it’s a very good idea, Ginny,” Susan said carefully.
“Why?” Ginny protested. “It seems the perfect arrangement. Harry said he had a large house, which he’s rattling around in; I can understand him thinking that a lodger would be a good idea. And if I rent from him, he won’t have the problems of some stranger turning up who would create problems as soon as they find out who their landlord would be. It’s not like I’d be a security risk for him, is it?”
“That’s not what I mean,” Susan replied with irritation in her voice. “I’ve lived with Harry, remember? He’s not always the easiest person to be around. He’s rather set in his ways and isn’t often prepared to change to accommodate others. Besides, I’m not sure it’s appropriate for you to be living with your superior.”
“I’d only be renting a room from him,” Ginny protested. “What’s inappropriate about that? Besides, you were shacked up with him, so how can you talk?”
“He wasn’t my superior at the time,” Susan spat with surprising heat.
“So you would have moved out when he was promoted?” Ginny shot back. “Really, Susan! I don’t know what your problem is?”
“I just…” Susan began before stopping herself and taking a deep breath. “Look, it normally takes Harry a long time to really warm to anybody. You seem to have hit it off with him surprisingly quickly, which is really unusual, trust me. I just don’t want you to ruin that friendship by being put into a situation where you’d become uncomfortable. And believe me; living with Harry Potter will make you uncomfortable.”
“I think that’s my choice to make,” Ginny replied, trying to sound calm. “Remember, I grew up in a house with six brothers, so I’m a bit more used to coping with males and their peculiar habits. Or has Harry got some strange, perverted practices that I should know about?”
“Oh no, nothing like that!” Susan said with a wave of her hand. “But he can be very unreasonable about living arrangements. He’s messy, stubborn and quick to anger.”
“So am I,” Ginny pointed out.
“Maybe, but that makes it even less likely that the two of you would get on. You’ll have constant arguments about who does what,” Susan warned.
“Susan, I would be renting a room! You two were in a relationship; there’s a big difference. I’ll just make sure we draw up an agreement as to who has responsibility for what, and if he doesn’t keep to it I’ll hex him until he does,” Ginny said with a smile. “And I, unlike you, won’t have to worry about arguments getting carried into the bedroom.”
Susan looked somewhat mollified at that. “Well, maybe you have a point. But just be careful. I don’t want to see this end up in a big argument.”
Ginny nodded in agreement. Secretly, she was starting to wonder why Susan was so keen that she didn’t share a house with Harry.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
He ground his teeth in anger. How dare they! How bloody dare they!
This was the trouble with the magical word, he thought. They all have their own petty agendas and schemes. Why the hell were they all so bloody obsessed with the purity of their blood?
He forced himself to calm down. It was no different from the Muggle world really, when he thought about it. Muggles would discriminate against someone because of their skin colour or sex, witches and wizards would discriminate against their fellow magic users if they happen to have Muggle parents. It was all the same. Everyone had their own prejudices.
This, however, was unacceptable. For someone to claim his work was a crusade against pure-bloods was intolerable! How dare they imprint their own desires on his work. As if he could care less about blood status. It didn’t mean a damn thing; he was living proof of that!
No, he couldn’t allow this to continue. Although it was a risk to break cover at this point, he would not permit others to take credit for his work.
Sitting at his desk, he retrieved a quill and some parchment, and began to write.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Next morning, Ginny made her way to the Ministry’s Records Department with Sonia accompanying her. Susan had decided that Ginny should follow up her idea that the killer may be a Squib, and had dispatched her to study the Ministry’s registry of known Squibs and make notes on all those that might have a criminal record. Sonia had been detailed to help her and Ginny was quite looking forward to getting her first chance to work directly with the witch. Although Ginny had been on the team for a few weeks now, she knew next to nothing about the dark-haired woman.
If she’d hoped to learn something about her colleague during their walk to the Records Department, Ginny was disappointed. As soon as they left the Aurors’ office Sonia had launched into an interrogation of her own.
“So, what’s all this I hear about Harry inviting you to move in with him?” Sonia asked with glee in her voice.
“We’re talking about me renting a room from him,” Ginny replied rolling her eyes. “It’s an entirely professional arrangement.”
“Is it really?” Sonia commented in a way that said she clearly didn’t believe a word of it. “You should be careful, then. Mr Potter clearly seems to have a preference for redheads.”
“Whether he does or doesn’t is irrelevant. All I’m doing to trying to find a place to rent before my family drives me insane,” Ginny assured her. “In fact, it might not even happen. I’m going to go over and view the place tonight. From what Susan says the house isn’t all that inviting.”
“I wouldn’t believe everything Susan says when it comes to Mr Potter,” Sonia smirked.
“What do you mean?” Ginny asked. “I thought Susan was his best friend.”
“Well, she is, I guess,” Sonia confirmed, “but she does have a bit of a blind spot when it comes to him.”
“Sorry, you’ll have to explain that a bit more,” Ginny said. It occurred to her that Sonia could be the perfect source of information about Harry and Susan’s relationship. Not that she was that interested, not really. Well, maybe a little.
“I once heard a Mind Healer say that they mutually facilitated each other’s issues and dependencies. I think what he was trying to say was that they both have the same problems and rather than helping each other address them they just help each other ignore them. They just encourage each other to go off the rails,” Sonia explained.
“Problems? What sort of problems?” Ginny asked with interest.
“Both of them got royally screwed-up by the war. Susan’s parents were killed when she was small so she went to live with her aunt. She adored her aunt and when she was killed as well, Susan went to pieces. The only family she has left are a few distant cousins. She’s pretty much alone in the world,” Sonia explained. “Harry is in an even worse situation. I mean, everyone knows about his parents, but no one ever stops to think what it means to him. He ended up dumped with his abusive Muggle aunt and uncle until he was ten, which I think scarred him for life. Luckily, he was then rescued by his godfather, who subsequently became the most important person in his life. Later, when the war kicks off again, his godfather is killed, along with pretty much every person he ever called a friend.”
Ginny tried to imagine what it had been like for Harry and Susan. What would have happened to her if she’d lost all her family? She shuddered in horror at the idea.
“So, you end up with two pretty broken people,” Sonia continued. “Both of them desperately lonely, but both terrified to give affection to others in case they get hurt again. When they met in Auror training, I think they recognised each other as kindred spirits. Soon they were clinging to each other for comfort, first as friends then later as lovers.”
“No wonder they’re so close,” Ginny noted sadly.
“Yeah, but as wonderful as that sounds, there are major problems with their relationship; the main one being that they make a horrible couple! They’re just far too different people to ever work together, but because they have this shared history they need each other to get by. I mean, when Susan moved in with Harry I think they lasted three months before they started trying to kill each other! So they have this pseudo-relationship where if one of them gets depressed or angsty, they go off and get drunk together and end up shagging like bunnies. It’s how they help each other, but you can’t say it’s very healthy for either of them.”
“But Susan is living with Ernie Macmillan,” Ginny objected. “She told me she wanted a proper, stable relationship and that’s what she’s got with Ernie.”
“True,” Sonia acknowledged. “But I wonder just how stable Susan and Ernie actually are. When Susan gets a few drinks inside her she starts going on about how dull Ernie is and how he ‘doesn’t understand her’! Get a few more drinks into her and she starts bragging about her sexual gymnastics with Harry. She just seems a bit too fond of telling stories about how great the two of them were in bed for me to be convinced she’s over him.”
“So is Harry still pining over her as well?” Ginny asked a bit reluctantly. “I really don’t want to walk into the kitchen one day and find him and Susan at it on the table.”
“Heard about that did you?” Sonia laughed. “Well, that’s the interesting thing. For about a month after Susan moved in with that Macmillan bloke, Harry was devastated. He tried to hide it, but anyone who knew him could tell he was utterly miserable. I think we were all just waiting for him to go totally off the rails, but strangely, it didn’t happen. After a while, he started to perk up a bit. He wasn’t exactly happy, more sort of resigned to things, but he definitely wasn’t the suicidal wreck we were expecting him to be. He’d been avoiding Susan like the dragon pox up to that point, but he started talking to her again and being friendly. Now he seems pretty normal, at least as normal as he gets.”
“He seems okay,” Ginny agreed. “In fact, he’s been really nice to me.”
“Yeah, he has, hasn’t he?” Sonia noted, looking at Ginny intently. “Look, I know everyone thinks I’m just the office gossip, but one thing I’m really good at is reading people. If you want my take on things, Susan moving in with Macmillan benefitted Harry more than it has her. Harry’s finally been forced to think about a life where he can’t just look to Susan for comfort when it all gets too much. He’s stated to realise that he’s not as reliant on her as he thought. Merlin, he’s even started noticing other women for the first time in years.”
By this point they had reached the Records Department, but rather than entering Sonia had leaned against the wall by the door. Ginny was becoming rather uncomfortable with the knowing look the older witch was giving her.
“If you want my advice, I would say ignore Susan’s warnings,” Sonia continued. “If you’re comfortable with the idea of sharing a house with Harry, then go for it. Susan might get jealous, but at the end of the day, she was the one who made the choice to try and move on. Personally, I think she’s picked the wrong bloke to be with and she’s just starting to realise it. This time, I think, she’ll find that Harry won’t be still waiting for her, but that’s not your problem.”
“Yeah, I just don’t want to get in the middle of a pitched battle between them,” Ginny said.
Sonia shrugged. “As I said, it’s not your problem. Susan made her choice and you can’t let your relationship with Harry be dictated by her. In fact, I think it would do him good to be in close proximity to another woman so he could see that we’re not all as neurotic as Susan.”
Ginny snorted. “Yeah, I used to think Susan was this well-grounded, straight-laced girl but I’m starting to realise that’s not quite the case. You’re really good at analysing people’s characters, aren’t you?”
“I’m fascinated by Muggle psychoanalysis techniques, actually. I nearly trained to be a Mind Healer myself, but I didn’t think I could stand working in an office all day,” Sonia confirmed. “But regarding Susan, I think she’s a bit of a conflicted personality. Her nature is one of a rather conservative person who likes things done in a very ordered way. Unfortunately, circumstances have meant her life has never been like that and she’s learnt to take comfort where she can. It conflicts with her basic personality, but she’s not strong enough to break the cycle of dependency. Shacking up with this Ernie bloke was her attempt to do so, but I’m not sure he’s the right man for her. Merlin knows, the couple of times I’ve met him he’s bored me to tears.”
“Susan’s always seemed such a strong person and Harry’s always portrayed as this heroic leader,” Ginny noted. “It seems weird to find out that they’re both so flawed.”
“They’re both just human,” Sonia pointed out. “The longer you remain an Auror, Ginny, the more you will realise one important truth.”
“What’s that?” Ginny asked.
“That pretty much everyone within the Department is fucked-up in one way or another,” Sonia said with a sad smile before turning and opening the door to the Records Department.
After a brief pause, Ginny followed her. She’d think about Sonia’s words later.
The two Aurors approached the reception desk and made their request to study the Squib register to the bored looking witch that was on duty. With a non-committal grunt, the witch gestured for them to follow her and led them into the vast warehouse-like room that contained nearly all of the Ministry’s records.
They followed the surly witch down long aisles packed with books, ledgers, folders and scrolls. Ginny was amazed the girl knew where she was going in amongst the apparent chaos that was the Ministry’s filing system. After a while, the witch halted in front of a rack that held a number of large, heavy registers.
“The Squib registers are organised alphabetically by surname. The current set dates from nineteen sixty-four; do you need to go back further than that?” the bored witch asked.
“Not for the moment,” Ginny confirmed, thinking it would be more likely that the killer would be under forty. They could always check back further if they came up blank.
“Good, then you want these registers here,” said the witch, tapping a row of books.
“Err, there’s one missing,” Sonia pointed out.
“What?” the witch exclaimed. “There can’t be.”
“Yes, look. The registers covering A to I and J to Q are here, but R to Z is missing,” Sonia said, wiggling her fingers in the empty space where the volume should have been.
“But that’s not possible,” the witch said. She pulled out her wand and summoned a thin black book, the contents of which she closely examined. She shook her head. “The register definitely hasn’t been logged out.”
“Could it just have been misfiled?” Ginny asked.
“No,” the witch said irritably. “Every single book, register or parchment in this room is magically logged. Can you imagine trying to find something if it was filed in the wrong place in this room? No, according to my logbook this missing register isn’t in this room at all and it most definitely hasn’t been signed out. Oh, this is going to cause so many problems. It’s years since anything went missing! I’ll need to inform my supervisor immediately.”
And with that the witch hurried off with a worried expression on her face. Ginny turned to look at Sonia.
“It seems a hell of a coincidence that one of the Squib registers we need has gone missing at this exact moment,” Ginny speculated.
“We’re Aurors; we don’t believe in coincidences,” Sonia disagreed.
Ginny nodded. Something very strange was going on.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Harry and Susan were sitting in the incident room working through old files in the hope of finding similarities to their current case, when they were disturbed by a knock on the door. A second later, one of the duty Aurors stuck his head into the room.
“Sir, there’s a gentleman to see you at reception,” the Auror announced. “Claims to be from the Daily Prophet and has information for you.”
“Did he give a name?” Harry asked.
“Yeah, said his name was Babcock,” was the reply.
Susan and Harry exchanged a look. “You’d better take him into interview room two. I don’t want him seeing anything in this room,” Harry decided.
The Auror vanished off to collect the journalist, while Harry and Susan pulled on their uniform robes.
“What do you think Babcock wants?” Susan asked. “Do you think he has more information on Malfoy he wants to share?”
“Can’t think why he’d want to,” Harry shrugged. “We’ve already let him off the hook regarding the bribery charges. Let’s see what he wants.”
The two Aurors left the room and walked across the corridor to the other interview room where the journalist had already been seated. Harry noted that Babcock was clutching a wad of parchments in his hands.
“Mr Babcock,” Harry greeted the man. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. What can I do to help?”
“Well, it’s me that can help you,” Babcock said. “Or possible hinder you, I’m not sure which at the moment.”
“I’m sorry?” Harry asked.
“Let me explain,” Babcock said pushing the stack of parchments forward. “Since the Prophet printed that letter that was allegedly from the killer…”
“But was actually written by Draco Malfoy,” Susan interrupted.
“Err… yes,” Babcock acknowledged with a red face. “Anyway, since then we’ve had masses of post regarding the matter. Most of it was just people voicing their opinions on the matter, but amongst them were this lot.”
“What are they?” Harry asked eyeing the pile of parchments the journalist was tapping with his finger.
“These are all letters claiming to be from the killer,” Babcock explained.
Harry groaned. “How many?” he asked.
“Currently twenty-three, but I expect we’ll get more now the original letter has been exposed as a fake. We were tempted to just bin the lot of them, but in the end we thought we’d better turn them over to you just in case…”
“One of them is actually from the killer,” Susan completed his sentence.
“Exactly,” Babcock agreed. “Do you want me to forward any other letters we get?”
“Yes, you’d better,” Harry agreed unenthusiastically. “Thank you for bringing these to our attention. We’ll let you know if we need to clarify anything.”
“Um, right. I’ll just be off then?” Babcock asked. Seeing that the Aurors were not going to give him any titbits regarding the case, he left.
“Just bloody great,” Harry snorted. “As if we haven’t got enough problems, now we get a bunch of weirdoes who want to pretend they’re a deranged killer! Bloody morons!”
“Come on, Harry,” Susan said in a resigned voice. “Let’s take this lot back to the incident room and start going through them. Hopefully, most of them will be obvious fakes.”
They gathered up the stack of parchments and made their way back to their room. Splitting the letters in two equal piles, they sat down to work their way through them. It very quickly became clear that most of them were complete rubbish.
“Listen to this to this one,” Harry said in disgust. “The writer claims that he’s been possessed by the ghost of Bertram the Irritable, and he will kill again unless the Ministry declares that all taxes are to be waived on Firewhisky. What a wanker!”
“I don’t know. That sounds quite a good idea to me,” Susan said grinning. She held up the letter she had been reading. “This one claims to be a werewolf who transforms according to Quidditch results rather than lunar cycles. He’ll kill again unless the Chudley Cannons win their next game.”
“Someone’s doomed, then,” Harry said dismissively. “Some of these people seriously need medical help.”
Susan said nothing, but began staring intently at the next letter she had picked up.
“Harry… I think you’d better look at this one,” she said after a while.
Harry reached over and took the parchment from Susan and read it quickly.
You all make me sick. How typical to claim that I killed those two girls because they were pure-bloods. Like I’d care about that. Although I must confess that I find it delicious that a mix of Muggle drugs allowed me to operate on those witches at my leisure.
Pure-bloods, half-bloods and Muggle-borns; all magic users are the same. Arrogant, self-important, callous scum. I will show you. Once I come into my full powers, I will teach each and every one of you.
The Lavender boy had his heart broken. Now I will change things.
The nameless man
“A mix of Muggle drugs,” he read out loud.
“Exactly,” Susan agreed. “We only just learnt about this ourselves. It’s never been mentioned in the press. I think this is from the actual killer.”
“He implies that both the victims were drugged,” Harry noted. “Was the first victim checked for chemicals like the second?”
“No, she was tested for potions, but no one thought to look for Muggle drugs. I think we need to have her looked at again,” Susan said.
“Great, she’s only just been buried and now we have to dig her up again. That will go down well,” Harry growled. “But a few things in this letter aren’t very clear. What does he mean about coming into his ‘full power’? And who is the ‘Lavender boy?’ Is he talking about himself or someone else?”
“Could he be performing some sort of power-boosting ritual?” Susan speculated.
“I don’t know. He almost talks like he’s not a magic user in the first part of the letter. Power-boosting rituals only increase the power a witch or wizard already has, not grant them magical power in the first place. You already have to have an active magical core for them to work,” Harry pointed out.
“Assuming this letter’s real, it creates more questions than answers,” Susan lamented.
“At least it will put the whole pure-blood issue to bed,” Harry pointed out. “Right, let’s get this letter tested for any magical residue or any other substance. Once we’ve done that I’d better report to Robards; he’ll want to see this.”
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
“And this would be your room,” Harry said, opening the door for her.
With the important events of the day, Ginny hadn’t been sure that they would have time for her to view Harry’s house as they had arranged. Fortunately, the team had all agreed to stop work at six and make a fresh start in the morning. This allowed her to accompany Harry to his home at Grimmauld Place so she could make a decision about renting a room.
So far, she had been immensely impressed. The house was huge and lavishly decorated. It was also meticulously clean, which had surprised her in view of Susan’s previous comments. Harry had explained that he had a cleaner come in twice a week, which had certainly explained that mystery.
Stepping into the room that had been earmarked for her, Ginny smiled. The room was nearly as big as the entire ground floor of the Burrow. The walls were painted a rich cream colour with gloss white woodwork. The floorboards were laid bare and were of a highly polished light wood. A large bed dominated the room with a small table and high backed chair set to one side. A small couch and matching armchair were arranged in front of the fireplace. Ginny could just picture herself curled up on the coach in front of a blazing fire, relaxing with a good book and a cup of tea.
“The door on the right leads to the closet,” Harry was saying, “while the other leads to the en-suite bathroom.”
Ginny walked over and poked her head through the door of the bathroom. It was small, but elegant. The only negative thing she could see was that there was a shower, but no bath. Taking long, relaxing baths was one of her favourite things.
She took another look round the room and her heart began to sink. There was no way she would be able to afford to rent a room like this. It wouldn’t have been out of place in some fancy hotel and certainly wasn’t appropriate for a probationary Auror on a meagre salary. She looked back at Harry and decided to get the bad news over with.
“So, how much would you be asking in rent?” she asked, steeling herself for the worst.
“Um, I’m not really sure what the going rate is at the moment,” Harry admitted. “How would twenty Galleons a month sound?”
“Twenty Galleons a month?” Ginny nearly screeched. “Are you insane?”
“I said I didn’t know what the going rate was!” Harry said defensively. “Fifteen?”
“Fifteen?” Ginny repeated in disbelief. “Harry, I would expect a room like this to be let out at over four hundred Galleons a month.”
“You’re kidding!” Harry gasped. “Four hundred! That’s ridiculous. How could anybody afford that? It’s only one bloody room!”
“Welcome to the world of high property prices, Harry,” Ginny said sadly. “There really is no way I could afford to rent this place.”
“Wait a second,” he replied. “I inherited this house so it didn’t cost me a thing. I never use this room so it would just be standing empty and anything you pay me would be more than I was getting before. The fact that I know you and won’t have to worry about you being a security risk is a big factor, as well. Surely we can come to some agreement?”
“I wouldn’t want to feel like I was cheating you,” Ginny said hesitantly.
“How would you be cheating me if we agree a sum?” Harry pointed out.
Ginny looked around the room again. It made the flat she had previously rented in Holyhead look like a hovel. Although it lacked the comfy familiarity of the Burrow, it would get her away from her mother’s smothering attention and her brother’s bitter jealousy. She desperately wanted the room, but didn’t want to bankrupt herself renting it.
“Err, two hundred Galleons a month?” she offered, wondering if she could afford to lose such a huge chunk of her salary.
Harry shook his head. “Ginny, I’m sure that renting here is just a temporary step for you, and you’d be looking to get your own place as soon as possible. How are you going to save up enough to buy somewhere if you’re handing every Knut you earn to me?”
“A hundred?” she tried again.
“Fifty!” Harry countered.
“Seventy-five!” Ginny insisted.
“Fifty and you cook dinner every other day!” he responded.
“Deal!” Ginny yelled.
They looked at each other for a second before they both burst out laughing.
“Harry,” Ginny said between giggles, “you really suck at this haggling thing. You’re supposed to try and force the price up, not down!”
“Damn, I knew I was doing something wrong!” he laughed.
“That’s not the only thing you’ve got wrong. You haven’t tasted my cooking yet,” she said with an evil grin.
“What have I let myself in for?” he said tragically. “Let’s go have a cup of tea and write out a rental agreement. I have been informed that we should have one.”
“That’s a good idea,” Ginny agreed. “We can also clarify who does what around here. I don’t want to find that I’ve accidently signed up to wash your dirty underwear every week.”
“You keep your hands off my unmentionables, thank you very much,” Harry replied. “Come on, I’ll put the kettle on.”
A short while later, the two of them sat down at the kitchen table with a mug of tea each and a plate of chocolate digestives between them. Despite Susan warnings, Ginny found that drawing up household responsibilities was surprisingly easy. With hired cleaners coming in twice a week and Ginny agreeing to cook for both of them every other day, there was little that needed to be covered. They would take care of their own laundry and Ginny would have full use of all household amenities, which apparently included a small gym on the second floor and the main bathroom (which included a large sunken bath, much to her delight) on the third. They mutually agreed to limit Floo access for the moment. The last thing either of them wanted at the moment was Ginny’s mother dropping in unannounced at any hour of the day.
“Right, I think that covers everything,” Harry said looking over the agreement they had written out between them. “I guess the only question is when you want to move in?”
“Pretty soon, if possible,” Ginny requested. “I haven’t mentioned I might be moving to my family. The less time my mother has to moan at me the better.”
“It really doesn’t make a great deal of difference to me when you move in,” Harry admitted. “How about this weekend?”
“Great!” Ginny agreed. “Here’s to a happy household.”
The clinked teacups in celebration.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Fay Wellington gingerly walked down the corridor at St Mungo’s in some discomfort. She’d been receiving treatment for her back for months, but nothing the Healers did seemed to rid her of the pain. There were limits to all things, including magic, it seemed.
As she hobbled down the passageway, she couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. She was, after all, a fairly young witch and here she was shuffling along like she was some old crone.
“Excuse me, Miss. Are all alright there?” A male voice said close to her ear, nearly causing her to jump six feet in the air. Or at least it would have if she could actually move.
Fay turned and saw a non-descript man, probably in his mid-thirties, dressed in hospital robes. What really interested her, however, was that the man was pushing an empty wheelchair.
“I’m afraid I’m struggling a bit,” Fay admitted. “The treatments I’m receiving for my back leave me very sore.”
“Are you going to manage to get down the stairs okay?” the man asked. They were currently on the fourth floor of the hospital and Fay knew she had several sets of stairs to negotiate which was something she had not been looking forward to.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted, eyeing the wheelchair longingly.
“Why don’t I give you a lift down to the lobby,” the man offered.
Fay could have kissed him at that moment.
“Would you? That would be so kind of you. I’d try and levitate myself down the stairs, but I’m finding doing magic very uncomfortable in my state,” Fay acknowledged.
“No problem,” the man said with a smile. “Sit yourself down and I’ll take you to the ground floor.”
Gratefully, Fay sank herself down into the chair and the man, whom she assumed was a porter here in the hospital, started pushing her along. He wheeled her down the corridor and then into the main landing for that floor. Strangely, he ignored the stairs and continued along another corridor.
“Err, where are we going?” Fay asked as the man pushed her along.
“We have a Muggle style lift we use to move people between floors,” he explained. “It will take us straight down to the lobby.”
“Oh, excellent,” she exclaimed. “That will save a bit of bother, won’t it?”
“Definitely,” the man agreed.
A short while later, they halted in front of a set of metal doors. The man pushed a couple of buttons on a panel set into the wall and the doors slid open. Fay was then pushed into the lift and the man joined her. He stood in front of the panel mounted inside the lift and did something which caused the doors to close again and she felt the lift start to descend.
“Well, this is useful,” Fay said. “The things those Muggles think of.”
The man said nothing, but smiled at her. After a surprisingly short time, she felt the lift shudder to a stop and the man pressed a button on the panel. The doors slid open and revealed, not the busy hospital lobby as she was expecting, but a dark corridor. The man pushed her out of the lift and into the passageway.
“Just a little way down here,” he assured her.
Seeing the man knew where he was going, Fay relaxed and enjoyed the ride. It was only after they had been moving for some minutes did she start to feel something was wrong. She had not seen another person since they had entered the lift and they seemed to have travelled an awfully long way. Just as she was about to voice her concerns, she suddenly found herself being wheeled into a large, dark room. It appeared to be a storage facility of some kind judging by the stacked boxes lined up against one wall. She turned to look at the man in confusion.
“What are we doing here?” she asked.
“I’ll sorry,” the man said in a flat voice.
“Sorry? What are you sorry for?” Fay demanded. She could start to hear the panic in her voice.
“You have something I need,” he replied.
Before she could say anything else, Fay felt a sharp pain in her arm. Looking down she could see that the man had jabbed a strange looking needle with a plastic tube attached to it into her arm.
Unfortunately, a pure-blood witch such as her would never have recognised the Muggle syringe for what it was. Instead, she was just aware of how odd she had started to feel. She desperately tried to withdraw her wand from inside her robes, but for some reason her hands just didn’t seem to be doing what she wanted. Her head was swimming and she was struggling to remain conscious.
The last thing she saw was the man removing a small knife from inside his robes as he stepped towards her.
Chapter 7: Chapter 7 – Pressure and Distractions
Author's Notes: First things first: Someone has got the identity of the killer correct! I had hoped it would take a bit longer than six chapters, but this person is entirely too clever for their own good! I will announce the identity of this astute reader during the final chapter (which might now be chapter 13 rather than 12; I keep adding bits!)
Right, chapter 7! More head-scratching, more clues and the team finally have a bit of a breakthrough. Oh, and Harry and Ginny blow off a bit of steam. Hope you all enjoy.
A massive thank you to Arnel for her speedy beta-ing of this chapter, despite doing the housework, watching documentaries , conversing with family members and doing a bit of bird-watching at the same time. That’s multi-tasking!
“How the hell did he do it?” Harry demanded in disbelief. “There’s security all over this place, not to mention hundreds of people moving back and forth not ten feet from this spot.”
The Aurors were stood in a small side passage that led to one of the main corridors on the second floor of St Mungo’s. All that was down here was a small storage cupboard that contained cleaning supplies. It had been one of the hospital’s elves that had made the ghastly discovery some hours ago, and summoned help.
“I don’t think she was killed here,” Susan suggested. “There’s no blood around the body. I think she was just dumped here.”
“But why?” Ginny demanded. “Why dump a body here of all places?”
“I think our ‘nameless man’ was sending us a message,” Harry ventured. “Think where he left the last two bodies: Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Those are two iconic locations for the magical community. Likewise this place, St Mungo’s, is known to every witch and wizard in the country.”
“So he’s committing his crimes in places important to magic users,” Susan noted. “What is he trying to tell us by doing that?”
“Think back to that note he sent to the Prophet,” Harry reminded her. “Think of the vitriol in that letter. It’s not just the pure-bloods that this bloke hates, it’s all magic users. By leaving the bodies in locations important to us all he’s telling us all how much he despises us,” Harry said grimly.
“But he talked about ‘boosting his power’ in that letter,” Ginny pointed out. “If he hates magic, why is he so keen to become a powerful wizard?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” Harry acknowledged. “Do we know who this woman is… was?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a positive I.D. She’s Fay Wellington, twenty-six years old, single and a resident of Hogsmeade. She was here for an appointment to treat her back which has been causing problems for months. The Healer reports that she attended the appointment and left at approximately eleven-fifteen this morning. One of the hospital’s elves found the body at two twenty-two. So far, no one admits to have seeing her between those times,” Susan said, reeling off her information from a small notebook.
“Blood status?” Harry asked.
“Pure-blood,” she confirmed.
Harry sighed. “I don’t think we can ignore the fact he’s only going after pure-bloods,” he admitted. “I’m still convinced he’s performing some ritual and it specifies the heart and liver must be taken from a pure-blood.”
“It’s definitely a possibility,” Susan admitted. “The killing has all the hallmarks of the previous two, apart from the body being moved. Now I know what I’m looking for, I did a quick Toxin Detection Spell and there are definitely some unusual chemicals present.”
“So, no doubt at all,” Harry said. “This is definitely victim number three.”
“And he still hasn’t left us any clues,” Ginny noted. “There’s still no magic signature on either the body or here in the corridor. How did he manage to get the body here unseen without magic?”
“I believe I already asked that question, Weasley,” Harry pointed out sourly.
“Doesn’t mean it’s not a good question,” Ginny mumbled.
“No, it doesn’t,” Harry agreed. “Right, I don’t think we’re going to achieve anything more here. Tell the DMLE clean-up staff they can move the body. At least it won’t have to be taken far for the autopsy.”
“No, indeed,” Susan agreed. “What do we do next?”
“We head back to the Ministry. I have a feeling the Head Auror is going to want a little chat,” Harry winced.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
The team shifted uncomfortably in their seats as they watched the Head Auror, Gawain Robards, reading the up-date report. Only Harry, who was used to the man’s gruff way, appeared unconcerned. After what seemed like hours, Robards looked up.
“So, we have no idea how the body of the third victim was dumped unobserved,” he asked.
“No, sir,” Harry admitted. “The body was left in a side passage literally feet away from a corridor that hundreds of people use every day. There was no sign of the body being dragged or man-handled, but there was no magical residue either. We’ve yet to identify the actual murder site.”
“The killer’s technique has remained the same for all three victims?” Robards asked.
“Apart from the body being move for the third victim, yes,” Susan confirmed. “The killer administers a mix of Muggle drugs which paralyses the victims. It should be noted that the delivery means were different in each case. The first victim ingested the drugs via a sandwich she ate before she left The Three Broomsticks, the second had it placed in her drink and the third had it injected directly into her bloodstream. It appears the killer has some control over how fast the drugs take effect by varying the strength of the mix. This tells us that the attacks were well planned out in advance. All three victims then had their hearts and livers removed with great skill and care using a Muggle surgical scalpel. The killer is very careful to leave no clues at the crime scene.”
“What about this situation with the missing Squib register?” Robards demanded.
“No one has any idea what’s happened to it,” Harry said. “The Records Department confirms the book was there during the last magical audit, but can tell us no more than that. I gather there’s been a lot of finger pointing down there. Everyone is blaming each other for the register going missing.”
“Fat lot of good that does us,” Robards noted. “The question is; is the register going missing a fluke or does it signal something more sinister? Could it be that the killer has access to Ministry records?”
“No way to tell, sir,” Harry admitted. “Not until we catch the bastard.”
Robards looked angry. “I’m getting a ton of shit about this case. Three pure-blood witches are butchered and we don’t have a clue who’s responsible, despite him writing us a nice little letter! It’s not bloody good enough.”
The team looked contrite at his words.
“Failure is not an option in this instance. We need a breakthrough and we need it now. The public is already up in arms and I’m hearing talk of vigilante groups being formed to patrol well known areas. I’ve spent a lot of time and effort building up this department, and I’m damned if I’ll have it all pissed away by one bloody maniac with a knife,” Robards shouted. “Bloody catch this bugger or I’ll assign the case to someone who can. Now get out there and get to work.”
The team stood and filed out the office without a word. No one spoke until they had all entered the incident room and closed the door. Gloomily, they flopped down into their chairs.
“This is ridiculous,” Susan exclaimed after a while. “What would be the bloody point of assigning the case to another team? Who would do a better job than us? We’ve even got Harry with us now, for Merlin’s sake!”
“It’s okay, Susan,” Harry assured her. “Gawain was just blowing off steam. He’s been under a lot of pressure because of this case. His neck is on the line, too, you know,”
“It’s not a great motivational style he’s got though, is it?” Sonia muttered. “Get out there and catch the killer, he says. Why didn’t we think of that?”
“Never mind that now,” Harry told them. “Let’s concentrate on the case. Has anybody got any new ideas?”
“Can we trace the Muggle drugs the killer is using somehow?” Howell asked.
“Nah, we thought of that,” Ginny piped up. “There are over a dozen suppliers in London alone and hundreds throughout the country. Almost anyone could purchase them.”
“Well, maybe we could…” Howell started to say, before he was interrupted by the door opening. One of the duty Aurors called Cook stuck his head in.
“Sorry to interrupt you, but I’ve got some bloke at the desk says you’ve been trying to contact him. Says his name is Brown,” the Auror informed them.
“Brown?” Susan repeated. “I don’t recall…”
“Wait!” Harry interrupted. “You don’t think it’s the second victim’s missing brother do you?”
“Of course,” Ginny exclaimed. “He must have read in the papers that we were trying to contact him.”
“Take the gentleman to interview room two,” Harry told Cook. “Susan, you and I will have a chat to him to see if we can find anything useful. There has to be a link between these victims.”
A few minutes later, Harry and Susan were sitting in front of the rather timid looking wizard who went by the name of Carter Brown. He was in the process of explaining why it had taken so long for him to come forward.
“I hadn’t seen Carrie since before the war,” he explained. “My parents… well; you probably already know they were Death Eaters. I didn’t want any part of that. I thought the whole lot of them were barmy signing up with You-Know-Who like that. I wouldn’t have gone near the evil bugger! No, I did the only thing I could and legged it.
“Where did you go?” Susan asked politely.
“Canada. I had no ties to the place and knew nobody there. That’s why I thought no one would suspect that I had gone there,” Brown reasoned. “I started a new life. I met a young witch and settled down. I’m happy there, you know. I only heard about Carrie because there was a news story about it on the national news. I tell you, these killings are making the papers all round the world. This murder… this horrible killing; it just shows you what’s gone wrong with this bloody country. Poor Carrie.”
“Mr Brown, I assure you that we’re trying to do everything we can to find your sister’s killer,” Harry told the man. “But we need your help. Your sister was a very private person and we know very little about her. I appreciate you hadn’t seen her for some time, but what can you tell me about her?”
“Me and Carrie never really got on well,” Brown admitted. “She always took after Mum and Dad more than me. I only ever wanted a quiet life. But Carrie was a great believer in blood purity and how pure-bloods were destined to rule. Load of crap, if you ask me. If she’d been old enough I reckon she would have been standing with You-Know-Who at the final battle. You’d have probably ended up fighting her, Mr Potter!”
“I hope it would never have come to that,” Harry responded uncomfortably. “What about Carrie’s private life? What did she like to do?”
“Well, I probably shouldn’t say this, what with her being my flesh and blood, but frankly Carrie was a complete slag,” Brown said with a hard expression on his face. “She seemed to have a new boyfriend every week. I gave up trying to remember their names. Of course, she was very careful about the type of boy she was with. Had to be a pure-blood; she wouldn’t have been seen dead with a Mudblood! It didn’t matter if they were sadists, morons or thieves; just so long as they were pure-bloods! Bloody hypocritical bitch!”
“I take it there’s little love lost between you and your sister,” Susan noted.
“Not much,” Brown admitted. “I always thought that she’d come to a sticky end, but just not like that. No one deserved that.”
“Do you know what she was doing for a living?” Harry persisted. “She didn’t seem to have any visible means of support.”
“Work for a living? Carrie? You must be joking!” Brown snorted. “That was far below her. Nah, she would have found some poor mug and taken him for every Knut he had before she moved on. And I bet she went through a few. Pretty high maintenance was our Carrie.”
“Liked her luxuries, did she?” Susan prodded.
“Oh yeah, did she ever,” Brown laughed. “And of course, the medical treatment wasn’t cheap either.”
“Medical treatment?” Harry repeated.
“Yeah, Carrie had a rare bone condition which she had to regularly take a potion for, and that cost a bit. She was in and out of St Mungo’s every five minutes as a kid and still had to have regular check-ups as an adult. So much for pure-bloods being so superior; without that potion she would barely have been able to move.”
Harry and Susan exchanged looks. Maybe this was something that warranted investigation.
After another twenty minutes of chatting with Carter Brown, Harry and Susan sent him on his way. They had taken a contact address for him in Canada, but didn’t think they would need it. He had, however, provided them with an interesting line of enquiry to follow.
They hurried back to the incident room and pulled out the file on Mary Kelly. After a few moments of hunting they found her medical records which they quickly scanned through.
“There!” Susan exclaimed. “She was admitted to St Mungo’s last year after she got injured in a bar fight that broke out in The Three Broomsticks.”
“We finally have a link between the three victims; they were all patients at St Mungo’s within the last few years.”
“It’s a bit thin, Harry,” Howell said dubiously.
“Still, it’s all we’ve got at the moment,” Harry pointed out. “Howell and Sonia, you carry on cross-checking the files to see if you can come up with something. Susan and Ginny, the three of us are going to take a little trip to St Mungo’s.”
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
A little while later, the three Aurors stood outside the main records room at St Mungo’s. Before they left the Ministry Harry had decided that they needed to stop at the Legal Department and obtain a warrant to search the hospital’s files. It was just as well he did.
From the second they had stepped into the hospital they had been hampered by the medical staff whose attitudes ranged from indifference to outright hostility. The prevailing opinion seemed to be that the Aurors had no right to start poking into confidential medical records, warrant or no warrant. It had taken Harry threatening to arrest the Hospital Administrator for them to receive any co-operation, and even then it was given reluctantly.
They had been led to the records room by one of the hospital’s administrative staff who clearly thought she had better things to do. When they eventually reached the room, having been forced to listen to her complaints all the way there, she rather abruptly demanded to know what information they required so she could retrieve it. Apparently, she didn’t trust the highly trained Aurors to look through a set of alphabetically arranged files without messing them up.
Rolling his eyes, Harry handed the admin witch the names of the three victims and she vanished off into the large room to locate the appropriate files. As the witch had strongly hinted that she wanted no distractions, the Aurors had remained in the corridor. Looking at his colleagues, Harry could tell that Susan was on the verge of losing her temper which would probably result in the admin witch getting hexed into the middle of next week. Ginny, on the other hand, just looked rather bored as she leaned against the far wall. Harry himself had dealt with St Mungo’s staff before, so he had at least been prepared for the reception they had received. Not that he was happy about it, of course, but short of arresting most of them what could he do?
So the three Aurors lounged about and waited for the admin witch to return with their information.
And waited.
And waited.
After three quarters of an hour, Harry could feel his patience was just about exhausted. Susan looked about ready to kill someone, and Ginny wasn’t much better. His tolerance at an end, Harry stuck his head into the records room.
“Are you going to be much longer?” Harry yelled. “We do have a murderer to catch, you know!”
A few minutes later the admin witch emerged with an annoyed look on her face.
“I’m sorry,” she said haughtily. “I can’t locate the files, and I really don’t have the time to look for them any further. You’ll have to do without, I’m afraid.”
“Hold on,” Susan growled, standing in the way of the admin witch who looked set to disappear down the corridor. “What do you mean, you can’t find them?”
“I mean, they are not where they are supposed to be,” the witch snapped. “I’m not responsible for every single file in this place, you know.”
“Is it usual for files to go missing like this?” Harry said quickly, hoping to head off the angry comment he knew Susan was about to make.
“Of course not,” the admin witch said, sounding offended. “What sort of place do you think we’re running here?”
“The sort of place that losses three files and can’t be bothered to look for them properly,” Susan spat.
“I’ve looked for them!” the witch protested. “As far as I can tell they’re not in the records room. I don’t know what else you expect me to do!”
“Let me put this in a way you can understand,” Harry said calmly. “We are investigating the brutal murder of three witches, all of whom received medical treatment in this hospital recently. The fact that the medical records of these three witches are all missing is far too much of a coincidence to be dismissed as a simply mistake. I must therefore assume that the files have been removed either by the killer or by someone working with him. As of this moment, everyone who has access to these records has become a suspect in a multiple murder investigation. Do you understand me?”
“But you can’t suspect anyone from the hospital,” the witch cried in shock. “No one here would do such awful things!”
“Then explain why the files have gone missing?” demanded Susan, getting in the witch’s face.
“I don’t know!” the witch squeaked, finally starting to realise how serious the situation was.
“You find those files,” Harry told the witch coldly. “I don’t care how long it takes you or how many people it requires. Unless I get them by tomorrow, I’m going to start tearing this hospital apart until I get answers, got it?”
“Y…yes,” the witch stuttered before vanishing back into the records room, presumably to restart the search.
Harry turned and began to stomp back down the corridor with a face like thunder. Susan and Ginny fell into step just behind him.
“So, more information we need just disappears with explanation. What’s going on here, Harry?” Ginny asked.
“I don’t know,” he replied grimly. “But I’m getting the distinct feeling somebody doesn’t want us to find this killer.”
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Ginny stretched out on the coach and sighed contentedly. The weather outside was typically cold and miserable for November, but she was perfectly happy curled up in front of a roaring fire in her new room.
She had moved in the previous weekend following the anticipated uproar from her family. Her mother’s reaction to the news that she was moving out had been pretty much what she had been expecting. First, Molly had begged her to stay at the Burrow and then, when that had failed, she’d demanded Ginny provide her with full access to her new home so she could ‘make sure she was alright’. Ginny had explained that she would be sharing a house with a work colleague and, due to security issues, access would be restricted. Somehow, Ginny had ‘forgotten’ to mention that she would be sharing a house with her single, male boss who just happened to be incredibly sexy.
Surprisingly, her father had been rather resigned to her leaving. They had been through this before when she had joined the Harpies and Ginny assumed he had gotten used to the idea his daughter had flown the coup. Ron had been his usual disagreeable self, making cutting remarks about the Burrow not being good enough for her now. Ginny interpreted these comments as meaning that as he couldn’t afford to move out he didn’t see why anyone else should.
The move itself had gone surprisingly smoothly, aided by the fact that Ginny had a rather disappointing amount of personal items to transport. She’d packed up her meagre belongings before shrinking the boxes and stuffing them in her bag. She’d then said her goodbyes, with the promise she would return for dinner one day the following week, before taking the Floo to Grimmauld Place. To her immense embarrassment, seconds after she arrived the wards at Harry’s home repelled an attempt by someone without the necessary permissions to access the house. Clearly, her mother had decided to try and follow her through the Floo. Fortunately, Harry had actually found the incident funny, although Ginny silently vowed to have a few choice words with her mother shortly.
The rest of the day had gone smoothly and by the late afternoon Ginny was unpacked and able to relax. Harry had even cooked a welcome meal for her that evening. Although it had been a simply dish of spaghetti bolognaise, the gesture had been much appreciated, particularly after he had cracked open a rather nice bottle of red wine for them to share.
Since then, she found settling into her new living arrangements had been pretty painless. The house was warm and bright, her bed was large and comfortable, and Harry had proved an amenable housemate. Despite the pressures of work, without the family dramas she had previous experienced most mealtimes, she found herself a lot more relaxed. Moving into Grimmauld Place was proving to be a good choice.
“Ginny, can you come down here for a second?” Harry’s voice called faintly through her door.
Wondering what he wanted, Ginny put down the trashy romance novel she had been reading and got up. She made her way out of her room and down the stairs. As most of the house’s activities revolved around the kitchen, she made her way there. Sure enough, she found Harry in the room standing next to the wicker laundry basket that served the house.
“What’s up, Harry?” Ginny asked, eyeing the laundry basket.
“Um, have you been putting your dirty laundry in this basket, Ginny?” he asked rather carefully.
“Err… yeah, I have… oh! That’s your laundry basket, isn’t it?” Ginny exclaimed, suddenly realising what she’d done wrong. “Oh, I’m sorry, Harry. I got so used to just throwing my stuff with everybody else’s at home, I didn’t even think about it. I wasn’t trying to get you to wash my clothes for me, honest!”
“It’s okay, Ginny,” he said with a smile. “I was just a bit confused as to how I had created so much dirty laundry.”
“Pull my stuff out and I’ll find somewhere to put it,” she told him.
“Well, I was about to put a wash on, so we can do it together,” Harry offered as he reached into the basket. He withdrew the first item. “Hmm, a set of Aurors robes. Obvious who’s these are, isn’t it?”
“I should imagine yours are a bit longer than mine,” Ginny pointed out, rolling her eyes.
Harry held the robes up against himself. They came down to his knees.
“Yours, I think,” he said grinning, before dropping the robes over to the side. He continued to separate the items into two separate piles until he paused. He carefully reached into the basket and withdrew another item.
“So, whose are these then?” he asked holding up a pair of Ginny’s knickers. They were pale green and rather skimpy. Harry held them against himself. “Hmm, rather a snug fit, but they could be mine, I suppose.”
“Put them down!” Ginny said blushing. “Like those would fit you!”
“Are you saying that I can’t get into your knickers?” Harry asked innocently.
“Bloody put them down, Potter! I’m warning you,” Ginny threatened, deciding to ignore Harry’s innuendos.
“But they’re so nice,” he protested. “They look quite clean, too. I wonder if they smell fresh?”
“Don’t you dare!” Ginny shrieked and launched herself at him. Unfortunately for her, Harry just held her panties high above his head and Ginny had no hope of reaching them.
“You give me my knickers back, you pervert!” Ginny yelled, jumping up and down in an effort to reach them.
“What’s it worth?” he countered.
“How about me not hexing you to bits?” Ginny yelled. “Gimme!”
“Nope!” Harry called and darted away from her. Ginny gave chase as he ran around the kitchen table, but it was clear to her that she would never catch him with his long legs. Sneakiness was required here!
She waited until Harry had run around to the opposite side from her, before Ginny leapt up on to the table. From her vantage point, she then leapt onto his back as he ran past. Wrapping her arm around his neck, she the used her other hand to try and grab her stolen underwear. Unfortunately, Harry had been unprepared for her manoeuvre and he stumbled. A second later, he was laying flat on his face with Ginny on top of him.
Seeing her chance, Ginny scrambled forward, literally climbing over his prone body. She then grabbed her knickers out of Harry’s hand and stood triumphantly before him.
“Ha! That will teach you!” she crowed. “I would remind you, Mr Potter, that I grew up in a house with six older brothers. You will never, ever get the better of me, so I suggest you save yourself a lot of pain and don’t even try.
“Ow,” moaned Harry from his position lying on the floor. “That was a sneaky move you pulled.”
“Hey, a girl has to protect her modesty, you know. I can’t allow any old letch to start fiddling around with my unmentionables,” Ginny said with a wide grin on her face.
“Old letch? Thanks,” he muttered, pulling himself up. “Okay, I’ve learnt my lesson. No more teasing Miss Weasley unless I want to end up flat on my face.”
“Damn right,” Ginny replied buffing her nails on her t-shirt. “I’m glad you recognise my superiority.”
“Oh, absolutely!” he confirmed in a contrite voice.
Gingerly, he made his way back to the laundry basket to continue separating their clothing. He looked into the basket and a small grin came onto his face.
“So whose is this, then?” he asked hold up one of Ginny’s bras up against his chest.
For a second their eyes locked. They stared at each other mentally seeking dominance over the other. Muscles tensed in anticipation of action. Then, without warning, he smirked and, before Ginny could react, he sprinted out the kitchen door waving her bra above his head. In a second Ginny was on his heels alternatively threatening him with disembowelment and laughing her head off.
In the end, the chase lasted a good three quarters of an hour and dissolved firstly into an extended game of hide-and-seek around the house, and then into a water fight when Ginny had used her wand to squirt the retreating form of her new landlord. He’d retaliated and pretty soon they were both soaked. Ginny had only, finally, managed to retrieve her underwear after she retreated to the kitchen and fished out several pairs of Harry’s boxer shorts from the laundry hamper. After transfiguring them pink with red love-hearts and then adding pictures of cute little ponies on them, Harry surrendered.
They eventually settled down and actually finished their laundry. A job that normally, by magical means, took a quarter of an hour had taken nearly an hour and a half. Frankly, Ginny couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun.
As it was now nearly dinnertime, and it was her turn to cook, Ginny started their evening meal, while Harry finished drying and folding their clothes. Harry had previously mentioned a liking for Sheppard’s Pie, so that’s what she decided to serve. The end results, while not being a patch on her mother’s creations, were quite edible and certainly seemed to please Harry, who had seconds, despite her rather lumpy mash potato.
As they sat at the table finishing their meal, a thought occurred to Ginny. After their playful afternoon, she was a little reluctant to bring the matter up, but curiosity won out.
“Harry,” she asked carefully, “why was Susan so adamant that I shouldn’t move in here?”
“What?” Harry asked surprise. “What do you mean? What did Susan say?”
“Well, she did kind of imply that the house was dirty and unpleasant,” Ginny said carefully.
“Ah,” Harry exclaimed, looking slightly relived. “It was, to be truthful. I only thought about hiring cleaners after she left. I guess some of her criticisms hit home. Of course, the cleaning firm took one look at the house and wanted to charge extra. That kind of shamed me in doing some modernisations. I hired an interior decoration firm to come in and gut the place. I guess I previously resisted changing anything as I wanted the house to remain the same as when my godfather was alive. It took someone else telling me I was living in a hovel to get me to do anything about it.”
“Well, that explains it, I guess,” Ginny acknowledged. “But hasn’t Susan seen the place since it’s been done up?”
“Nah, she hasn’t been in here for well over a year,” Harry said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Maybe Harry and Susan weren’t as close as she had assumed, Ginny thought. Encouraged, she pressed on.
“She also said that you weren’t the easiest person to live with. Personally, I think you’ve been really easy-going. So far I’ve really enjoyed living here. When you’re not stealing my knickers, of course,” she added with a grin.
Harry smiled back. “I’ve really enjoyed having you here, too. I don’t know quite what to tell you, Ginny. Susan and I seemed to clash over the stupidest things when she was here. Everything was just the biggest deal to her. I didn’t fold our clothes right, or I didn’t clean the bathroom properly. Oh, I fully admit I was just as bad. I used to get so angry when she tidied up and I couldn’t find things. It was ridiculous when I think about it.”
“I always imagined Susan would have a set way of doing things,” Ginny admitted.
“Oh, did she ever!” Harry agreed. “But it wasn’t her fault things didn’t work out. Actually, I’m not sure it was mine either. We just weren’t ready to live together. We were set in our ways and too immature to learn how to compromise. I think we’ve both grown up a bit since then. I’m glad she and Ernie are so happy together, I really am. It just goes to show that we weren’t right together. I mean, I think he’s a much better match for her than I ever was. He’s a bit more stable.”
“That’s one word for it,” Ginny snorted.
Harry looked at her funnily for a second before he smiled. “I forgot, you probably know him from Hogwarts, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do,” Ginny confirmed. “He actually asked me out once, but I turned him down. He was a bit pompous for me.”
“Yeah, he can be, can’t he?” Harry agreed, smiling mischievously.
“I certainly can’t imagine him running about the house waving items of female underclothing around his head,” she pointed out with a wicked grin.
“Ha! No, I can’t either,” Harry laughed. “Mind you, I wouldn’t have imagined me doing it either. For some reason you bring out my silly side, Miss Weasley.”
“All part of the service, Mr Potter,” Ginny replied.
Yes, she decided, moving in here wasn’t proving to be a bad idea at all.
Chapter 8: Chapter 8 – The Hands of a Healer
Author's Notes: Ah, chapter 8; one of my particular favourites. More cryptic clues from the killer, Susan gets a nasty surprise and Harry and Ginny start building up some serious unresolved sexual tension.
As we have only five more chapters to go (yes, I know I said this story was twelve chapters long but it’s magically expanded to thirteen) I am not going to be answering direct questions regarding the killers identity in reviews to preserve an element of surprise at the end. Actually, I’m convinced that when most of you learn the man’s identity you’re going to hate me. It’s not so much about who the killer is as what (and think about the different ways that statement can be interpreted).
Thanks as always to Arnel for correcting my cock-ups. It’s a dirty job and she’s just the girl to do it.
Once again, the team found themselves sitting around the Head Auror’s desk. He was reading a piece of parchment that he held in his hand. That morning, Trevor Babcock had appeared at the office clutching another letter from the killer which had been delivered to the Daily Prophet just hours before.
The contents had been rather unsettling to say the least.
I write to you directly as I read that you have been put in charge of the hunt for me.
Firstly, I would like to apologise for this. I have no doubt you have been put in this position because of all the pure-blood bullshit the papers have been dragging up. While I am grateful for what you’ve done in the past, I regret to inform you that I have absolutely no intention of allowing myself to be caught. If your reputation and professional standing takes a knock because of this, I’m sorry.
I understand you recently made a trip to St Mungo’s. While I applaud you for making the connection between the three girls I killed, I fear it will do little to help you. I have had ample time to look over the hospital’s records and they are only one source of information I have.
Bad luck.
You should know that I do these things not for some vicarious thrill or the result of some dreadful instability on my part. There is a higher purpose to my work. Once my goal is achieve I promise you will never hear from me again.
How could the rider have reached his destination when his horse was taken from him?
The nameless man
Robards finished reading the letter and looked up.
“We’re sure this is from the killer, are we?” he asked.
“If we accept that first letter was from the killer, then this one probably is as well. Same parchment, same quill style, even the same cryptic bloody comment at the bottom,” Harry confirmed.
“Fair enough,” Robards admitted. “I don’t think we should put too much stock into this, however. Judging from the style and content of this letter, the killer is quite intelligent. I think he’s playing with us; writing this stuff to put us off this trail. He says the murders are not racially motivated, but he only attacks pure-blood witches.”
“Be that as it may, sir,” Harry objected. “The fact remains the killer knew we’d been to St Mungo’s. I know I’m a pretty well-known face, but I went out of my way not to been seen in the areas of the hospital open to the public. Add to this the fact that somehow this man has gotten access to hospital records, and has stolen at least three medical files, means he either works at the hospital or has an accomplice there.”
“Don’t get blinkered to that line of thinking,” Robards warned. “I wouldn’t put it past those useless gits at St Mungo’s to have simply lost those files. And besides, there are hundreds of people milling about inside that hospital; contractors, cleaners, delivery men. Any one of them could have spotted you.”
“But it’s still worth checking out, isn’t it, sir?” Susan asked forcefully.
“Oh, absolutely. It’s still our best lead; but I just don’t want you to get complacent in your thinking,” Robards told her. “So, what’s your next move?”
“Well, the obvious thing will be to check what hospital staff have experience of Muggle surgical procedures. We’ll then try and cross-reference what names we find against the victims. That will be hard without the missing files, but hopefully we’ll find a link somewhere,” Harry said.
“So, your entire investigation is now centred on St Mungo’s?” Robards asked dubiously.
“We still have Aurors patrolling public areas, and we’re making regular appeals for information through the press. We may get lucky,” Harry said hopefully.
“I don’t like having all our eggs in one basket,” Robards admitted. “Okay, get back to it.”
The team stood and filed out, grateful that Robards had been a bit more even-tempered this time. They were soon back in the incident room, ready to draw up an action plan for the day.
“So, first things first,” Harry began. “What does everyone think of this letter? Despite what Gawain thinks, I reckon it has some significance.”
“I agree,” Sonia said. “I’ve been thinking about these letters. I’m sure there are important clues included within them. These cryptic lines really interest me; I’m pretty sure these references to ‘the lavender boy’ and ‘the rider’ are references to the killer himself. They sound almost like justifications for his actions, somehow. The way he refers to himself must mean something as well: ‘the nameless one’. Why doesn’t he have a name? Did he give his birth name up for some reason? Is he ashamed of his name and what it represents? Was the name taken from him somehow? I have an idea that this is at the heart of the killer’s motivation.”
“While I’m sure you’re probably right, how does that help us at the moment?” Harry asked.
“It probably doesn’t right now, but I just think we should bear it in mind. It will probably start to make a bit more sense when we get further information,” Sonia shrugged.
“Does anyone buy Robards line about the medical files going missing just being down to an administration error?” Ginny demanded. “With the Squib register going missing as well, it’s just too much of a coincidence.”
“Yeah, but it does suggest that the killer had access to Ministry records as well as those at St Mungo’s,” Susan pointed out. “There can’t be many people who can get access to both.”
“Or there are two of them, working together?” Ginny suggested.
“Serial killers normally work alone,” Susan disagreed.
“I don’t think we can rule either possibility out,” Harry said. “Our nameless friend made it quite clear that he thinks there is a higher purpose behind these murders. It’s possible that he’s converted someone else to his cause.”
“Yeah,” Ginny agreed. “He may have convinced someone that there is some great goal that he’s trying to achieve. If this is a series of ritual murders, those hearts and livers must have been used for something. A power increase ritual? The summoning of some great spirit? Some sort of curse?”
“Impossible to say at the moment,” Susan said. “We need some hard evidence to base these speculations on.”
“Well, let’s go and get some,” Harry decided. “I think we’ll all head to St Mungo’s now. Despite what Robards says, I’m certain there are answers to be found at that hospital.”
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
With the knowledge that the killer was aware they had previously visited St Mungo’s, Harry abandoned any pretence of subtlety. All five of them marched through the main entrance of the hospital and pointedly ignored the main Inquiries desk. They trooped up to the first floor where the Administration department was housed, and barged in without knocking. Harry fully intended to intimidate the reluctant administrators into action.
In the end, he needn’t have worried. The missing files, and the warning that all staff that had access to them had become suspects in the murders, had been sufficient to change a few attitudes. The Chief Administrator appeared to have been waiting for their arrival, and ushered them into her office. She was deeply apologetic, but confirmed that the files had completely vanished.
While this really wasn’t what he wanted to hear, it did at least give Harry the leverage to demand whatever information he wanted. His request for the training records of all staff was met with only the smallest resistance, and the admissions records were handed over without protest. The Administrator also promised that at that very moment her staff were checking through the patient register to see if they could identify any more treatment files that had gone missing.
Seeing the witch was doing her best to make up for past failures, Harry thanked her and set the team to work checking through the information provided. Ginny and Sonia started checking the admissions register to establish when the victims had last visited the hospital, while the rest of them started checking the staff files. With over three hundred staff on the books, it was slow going.
It was mid-afternoon when they had a breakthrough. Within the staff records, Howell discovered that a Senior Healer called Miles Woodhouse had spent six months at a Muggle hospital some years ago to observe their techniques. Even more promisingly, it turned out that he had treated both Carrie Brown and Mary Kelly in the past. Harry immediately decided that he and Susan should have a little chat with the man and, after enquiring after his location from the admin staff, they made their way over to the Long-Term Spell Damage ward.
Unfortunately, the jungle drums had been beating and somehow Healer Woodhouse knew the Aurors were on their way to speak to him. The Healer, a large man with incredibly bushy eyebrows, flatly refused to talk with them unless his solicitor was present. Bowing to the man’s rights, an owl was dispatched to summon his legal representative. When the solicitor arrived, it was a great shock to both Aurors.
“Ernie?” Susan exclaimed in surprise as he walked in the office they were waiting in.
“Susan,” he greeted her. “Although for the course of our conversation today I would ask that we keep things formal. I’m here to protect Mr Woodhouse’s interests.”
“We were merely asking him to help with our investigation,” Harry pointed out. “We have not charged him or accused him of any wrong doing.”
“Nevertheless, my client feels he requires legal protection,” Ernie sniffed. “You Aurors have a habit of twisting people’s words into a confession.”
“What the hell is that meant to mean?” Susan exclaimed. “Are you accusing us of framing people?”
“I’m just here to ensure there are no miscarriages of justice,” Ernie replied pompously.
“Perhaps we can talk with Healer Woodhouse now?” Harry asked quickly, intent on cutting off Susan before she could respond.
“Of course,” Ernie agreed. “Although I would ask that you keep your questions brief and to the point. My client is a busy man.”
“And possibly someone with something to hide if he needs a solicitor present before he speaks to us,” Susan muttered.
“I’m sorry, Auror Bones. That sounds like defamation of my client’s character. I will be making a formal complaint to the DMLE regarding this,” Ernie informed her.
“Susan,” Harry said sternly, cutting of her angry retort. “Mr Macmillan, I assure you no slur was intended on your client. We fully understand it’s Healer Woodhouse’s right to have legal representation during any interview. We merely wanted to register disappointment that he felt it necessary to do so during what is a simply information gathering discussion.”
“Your disappointment is irrelevant. Healer Woodhouse is just exercising his rights as any upstanding citizen such as him is entitled to,” Ernie responded.
“Understood. Can we speak to him now?” Harry insisted.
Macmillan said nothing, but gestured for the Aurors to follow him to the Healer’s office. Woodhouse sat behind his desk with a disgruntled expression on his face. Macmillan walked round the desk and took a seat next to the Healer. There were no seats available for the Aurors. Harry mentally sighed at the petty point-scoring.
“Thank you for agreeing to talk to us, Healer Woodhouse,” he began. “Firstly, can I ask if you are familiar with any of these witches?”
Harry placed pictures of the three victims of the desk in front of him. Woodhouse gave them a cursory glance before turning and whispering to Macmillan.
“Healer/patient confidentiality prevents my client from answering that question,” the Legal Wizard stated flatly.
Grinding his teeth together, Harry reached into his robes and pulled out the warrant he had obtained for the hospital to release information. Ernie picked it up and studied it for a moment.
“This warrant states St Mungo’s are to release information to the Aurors, it does not cover my client personally,” Macmillan declared after a while.
“Healer Woodhouse is an employee of St Mungo’s and our questions relate to his work at the hospital. I think you will find that the warrant does indeed compel him to answer the question,” Harry replied.
“You may answer the Auror’s question,” Macmillan informed the Healer, “but only your professional involvement with them.”
“I’ve had no personal contact with these witches,” Woodhouse protested only to receive a glare from his solicitor. Sheepishly he turned to Harry. “I’ve treated two of them in the past. Miss Kelly was badly injured in bar fight some time ago. I healed several broken bones and treated a number of cuts. Miss Brown has been a regular patient here due to a hereditary bone disease. I treated her on a number of occasions, although the same could be said for most Healers here.”
Harry desperately wanted to dig further but he knew that Macmillan would object. He just counted his blessings that Woodhouse had slipped and stated that he had no personal contact with the victims. If they could prove otherwise, they would have something on him. He switched tack.
“I understand that you spent some time in a Muggle hospital,” Harry continued. “Can you tell us something about that time and what you learnt?”
“What relevance is this?” Macmillan objected.
Harry purposely kept quiet and just stared at Woodhouse. After a few moments, the solicitor faintly nodded at the Healer.
“I was at King James hospital here in London for six months,” Woodhouse explained reluctantly. “I observed a large number of Muggle procedures and techniques. The idea was for me to be able to help any witch or wizard who had been inadvertently treated by Muggle doctors before we could take over.”
“Did this include observing surgical techniques?” Harry pressed. He could see Macmillan bristle at the question but the legal wizard kept quiet.
“On a few occasions,” Woodhouse confirmed. “Not that I made any great study of it.”
“Can you account for your movements on the nights of the 28th October and 11th November?” Harry asked.
“Don’t answer that,” Macmillan snapped. “That question has no relevance to my client profession.”
“I was merely trying to establish if Healer Woodhouse was working those nights,” Harry responded. Actually he’d been hoping for more than that, but Macmillan wasn’t giving them an inch.
“No, I was not,” Woodhouse responded.
“I think you’ve taken up enough of my client’s time, don’t you?” Macmillan said sharply.
Harry nodded. Now was not the time to fight a legal battle.
“Thank you for your time, Healer Woodhouse,” he said with a weak smile. “We may need to ask you further questions later. I would ask that you keep us informed if you have to travel for any reason.”
Pointedly ignoring Macmillan, Harry turned and walked out the office. Susan followed closely behind him, and he could hear her swearing under her breath.
One thing he was certain of was that Woodhouse was hiding something. It looked like they had their first real suspect.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
It had been a long and rather boring day for Ginny. Although she was excited that they had their first possible suspect, her enthusiasm had been dampened by the fact that she’d spent the entire day checking through hospital records. Her brain had just about turned to sludge by mid-afternoon.
The team had agreed to finish for the day about six o’clock and Ginny had happily made her way back to Grimmauld Place. Harry had been forced to remain at the Ministry for a while to complete some paperwork, meaning she had the whole house to herself.
Deciding to make the most of the situation, she stripped out of her Auror robes and dumped them in the (now shared!) laundry basket, before heading up to the third floor where the main bathroom was located. Ever since she moved in, she had been eyeing the huge sunken bath located there covetously. She’d been a little reluctant to use it before as it was located right opposite Harry’s bedroom, but as she didn’t have to worry about his presence that evening she decided to indulge herself.
The bath certainly lived up to her expectations. In truth, it was more like a very small swimming pool than an actual bath. She stretched out and luxuriated in the hot, soapy water, letting the frustrations of the day just drift away from her. To her pleasant surprise, she’d even found some scented candles in a cabinet, although she was prepared to lay odds that they’d once belonged to Susan. They just didn’t seem like the sort of thing Harry would buy.
Feeling happy and relaxed, if a bit wrinkly, she eventually dragged herself out the bath. Wrapping a large, fluffy towel round herself, she left the bathroom to return to her bedroom on the second floor. And promptly walked straight into a very surprised Harry Potter.
“Oh, hi, Harry,” she greeted him. “I didn’t hear you come in. I was just taking a bath. I hope you don’t mind me using the main bathroom.”
Harry didn’t immediately respond and for a second Ginny was worried that he’d suffered some sort of head injury. He stared at her stupidly with his mouth slightly open.
“Um, no…I…um. Oh, yeah! You can use the bathroom anytime you want. Help yourself,” he eventually stammered.
Ginny looked at him in confusion. What on earth was wrong with her housemate? His eyes appeared to be bulging slightly, and he wouldn’t meet her gaze. She was becoming slightly alarmed at Harry’s strange condition until suddenly she realised why he wasn’t looking her in the eye.
Apparently her eyes were the only thing he wasn’t looking at.
For a second, Ginny blushed at his attention. She’d barely thought about what she looked like just wearing just a wet towel. Growing up in a crowded, bustling home like the Burrow meant that privacy was at a minimum. Her brothers wouldn’t have thought twice about the sight of her coming out of the bathroom similarly dressed.
But Harry Potter wasn’t her brother.
Her initial embarrassment quickly turned into elation. If she was entirely honest with herself, she’d fancied the pants off Harry since she laid eyes on him. The fact that she could achieve such a physical response from him was extremely promising, not to mention rather satisfying. Mentally smirking, she decided to have some fun. Currently, Harry’s eyes seemed to be roving over her bare legs. That would give her an opening.
“Is there something wrong with my legs, Harry?” she asked innocently. “I just shaved them earlier, did I miss a bit?”
“What?” Harry exclaimed guiltily. “Um, no. There’s nothing wrong with your legs! They’re wonderful!”
Ginny ignored his compliment and salaciously began to run her hand up and down her smooth leg.
“Hmm, I can’t feel any stubble,” she purred. “Are you sure there are no hairs left? Have you had a good look?”
“No! No hairs. Your legs are beautifully smooth,” Harry confirmed rather longingly.
Ginny wondered if he would prefer to conduct his inspection by touch rather than sight, judging by the way his fingers were twitching. Time to up the game.
“It’s always so hard to make sure you’ve shaved everywhere, even with Shaving Charms,” she confided. She bent forward, ostensibly to check her legs but in reality to give Harry an eyeful of her cleavage. Judging by the slight whimper she heard, it had the desired effect.
Straightening up again, she gave him a warm smile. Harry’s reaction was to suddenly turn bright red and for him to quickly shove his hands in his trouser pockets. For a moment his reaction confused her until she realised what he was trying to hide.
Apparently, she was having a much greater effect on him then she expected.
“Well, I’m heading downstairs to get dressed,” she said as she started to breeze past him. She made sure to accidently rub up against his arm as she passed. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Yeah! See you in a bit,” Harry squeaked.
She sauntered down the stairs swinging her hips a little more than she would normally. When she was nearly to the bottom, she risked a glance behind her. Harry was standing at the top of the stairs, gazing down at her longingly. She gave her bum a little wiggle, winked at him and ran out of sight, giggling to herself. She was almost certain she heard him moaning in frustration as she disappeared round the corner.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
The next morning, the team was sitting expectantly in the incident room waiting to be assigned their tasks for the day. They had barely started their first cups of coffee when Harry entered with a triumphant expression on his face.
“Did you get it?” Ginny asked as soon as she caught sight of him.
“Yeah, one authorisation for a surreptitious Tracking Charm to be cast on Healer Woodhouse, signed by the Minister of Magic himself, no less,” Harry confirmed grinning. “It’s good to have friends in high places.”
“Excellent,” Sonia agreed. “If our Healer friend does anything suspicious we’ll know, and no arsehole Legal Wizard will stop us.”
Harry cast a glance at Susan to see if she would react to Sonia’s comments, but his friend just sat there with her head down and a blank expression on her face. She looked like she was in another world.
“So any volunteers to cast the tracking charm?” Harry asked.
“I’ll do it,” Howell offered.
Harry nodded in agreement. For a big man, Howell could be extremely stealthy when he wanted to. The fact that he hadn’t been present when Woodhouse was interviewed helped as well.
“Good man. You take care of that and run surveillance on him initially. Sonia and Ginny, you continue to dig through the hospital records. Susan and I will join you later when we’ve finished doing a bit of extra background research on Woodhouse. Any problems?” Harry asked.
With the team seemingly happy, they departed to complete their assigned duties. Susan, however, remained in her seat with her head down. Harry hadn’t heard her speak a word all morning and was becoming slightly worried about her, but he knew better than to try to force her to speak. He took a seat next to her and waited for her to say something.
“Go on, then,” she said after a while. “Say it.”
“Say what?” he asked, genuinely confused.
“Say what an idiot I am for falling for a bastard like Ernie,” she replied bitterly.
Harry sighed. It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out what had upset her. Following the interview with Healer Woodhouse she had been indignant, while this morning she had been sullen. The couple had obviously had a fight the previous night.
“He was only doing his job,” Harry said, surprised himself by standing up for the bloke.
“A job that protects a potential murderer?” she spat. “He virtually implied that we would have tortured a confession out of Woodhouse if he hadn’t been there! I can’t believe he would think so lowly of me!”
“He was pandering to his client’s beliefs,” Harry pointed out. “What did he say about it last night?”
“He flatly refused to discuss it,” Susan said. “He accused me of being unprofessional, and said I shouldn’t bring work home with me.”
“I suppose he has a point,” Harry pointed out gently. “You shouldn’t be discussing a case with a suspect’s solicitor privately.”
“I wasn’t talking about the case,” Susan snapped. “I was talking about his lack of respect for me and that he didn’t seem to care that he might be protecting a monster!”
Harry shrugged. “You knew what he did for a living. You know what my opinion of these legal types is. But you do have to separate what Ernie does for a living and what he’s like as a person. Woodhouse was entitled to a lawyer and Ernie did nothing wrong in the eyes of the law. If you love him, then you’ll just have to accept that sometimes his job means he will do things you don’t approve of.”
There was a long silence and Harry was just considering leaving her alone for a while when Susan suddenly let out a loud sob and dropped her face into her hands.
“Oh, Harry,” her muffled voice cried. “I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
This was not an unusual situation for Harry to find himself in. Susan could be quite highly strung and over the years she had broken down in tears in front of him quite frequently. Hell, he’d done the same to her enough times. But this time it was different.
In the past, he would probably have wrapped his arms around her and let her cry herself out. They would exchange whispered words of comfort and invariably one of them would kiss the other. That was normally the signal for them to seek comfort from each other in the most physical of forms.
But that couldn’t happen this time. Ignoring the simple fact that they were in an office at work, he had promised her that he wouldn’t allow anything of that nature to occur again. They had both agreed to move on and put their failed relationship behind them. But if Susan’s relationship with Ernie was falling apart, did that change things? He pondered that thought for a moment.
No, it didn’t, he decided. He was tired: tired of all the drama their relationship always seemed to generate. Tired of the arguments. Tired of the pretence. It was time to break the circle of heartache and pain.
With more confidence of his actions, he reached over and hugged Susan until her sobbing subsided. He gently stroked her hair while she buried her head in his shoulder. Finally, with the shadow of a smile on her lips, Susan looked up at him. Her eyes seemed to warm to him and her smile became more genuine. Her lips parted slightly and she began to lean to towards him…
Harry gently took her head in his hands and held it. Slowly, deliberately, he placed his lips to her forehead and placed a light kiss on it. He then let her go and purposely stood up.
“I think you need to talk your problems over with Ernie,” Harry told her kindly. “You know I’ll be there if you need me, but really the two of you need to work out your issues between you.”
For a second, Susan looked at him in complete confusion before understanding flooded over her. She closed her eyes and a look of hopelessness came onto her face.
“I made you promise, didn’t I?” she said.
“You did,” he confirmed. “And it was the right thing to do. How about a nice cup of tea? It will make you feel better.
Susan just nodded and Harry left the room to fetch her drink.
Susan watched him leave with a lump in her throat. At that exact moment she couldn’t decide whether she should be immensely grateful to Harry for keeping his promise, or to scream at him in frustration. Why did the bastard always have to be so noble?
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Harry stood and completed his final stretches. Creating the small gym in an unused second floor bedroom of his house had been a good idea. A good work-out was an ideal way to alleviate the tensions of the day.
And it most definitely been a tense day, he thought. Since his conversation with Susan that morning, things had become rather strained between them. It had been with some relief that he had suggested she returned to St Mungo’s to continue checking through their records after lunch. She’d seemed equally keen to put some distance between them.
Unfortunately, the search through the hospital’s files had not produced anything more of use. Ginny and Sonia had returned after completing their search through the admissions register with a fairly comprehensive list of the dates the three victims had been at the hospital for treatment, but on its own the information was of little immediate use. The staff files had nearly been searched through completely, and so far the only Healer with recorded experience of Muggle treatments was Woodhouse. Susan had apparently volunteered to stay and complete looking through the records, Harry was unsurprised to learn.
At least Howell had been successful in placing the Tracking Charm on the suspect Healer. The large Welsh Auror had returned just after lunch with the news that he had managed to cast the charm on Woodhouse when the man had visited the toilet. Always try to ambush a suspect when his pants were down, that was Howell’s motto.
Of course, Woodhouse would have to be spectacularly stupid to try anything when he knew he had captured the Aurors’ attention, but you never knew. If he was indeed the murderer, he had to be at least slightly unbalanced, so maybe he would do something crazy?
He was pondering that idea as he left to return to his room. As a consequence he nearly walked into Ginny who had chosen that moment to leave her bedroom.
“Oh, hi, Harry,” she said. “Been working out?”
He bit down a sarcastic comment. The fact that he was dressed only in a pair of shorts and a black sports vest was probably a good indication of what he’d been doing. He rolled his eyes at her, but she didn’t appear to notice. Indeed, her gaze appeared to wandering up and down his body and she seemed completely distracted.
Was she checking him out?
He instantly realised he might have the chance for a bit of payback for the teasing Ginny had done last night. Let’s see how she likes it, he thought.
“Yeah, I was,” he replied. “I managed to work up a good sweat, too.”
He grabbed the hem of his vest and pulled it up to wipe the sweat on his forehead. This gave Ginny a good view of his abdominal muscles which he knew were nicely developed from years of training. He was genuinely quite hot after his exertions, and guessed that sweat would be dripping down his exposed flesh. To add to the effect, he melodramatically tossed his shaggy main of black hair as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
As he slowly lowered his top he looked at her. She appeared to be breathing rather heavily and her eyes had a blazing look in them. This could be fun.
“So, what are you up to tonight?” he asked casually. He stretched his arms as if he was still completing his cooling down exercises, being careful to flex his biceps as much as possible. He was sure he saw her quickly lick her lips.
“Err… nothing… much,” she replied sounding rather distracted.
“You could have worked up a sweat with me,” he told her innocently.
“What?” she squeaked.
“I said, you could have hit the gym and worked up a sweat with me,” he explained, just managing to maintain a straight face.
“Oh. Right,” Ginny said, visibly gulping. “I’d probably look a bit weird if I ended up with big muscles… like yours.”
“I like to keep fit,” he confirmed, closing the distance between them. He flexed his bicep again. “Have a feel.”
Her eyes bulged. Rather nervously Ginny reached up and gently squeezed his right bicep. Her fingers seemed to linger as she caressed his flesh.
“That’s very… impressive,” she said huskily.
“It’s quite hard, isn’t it?” he asked suggestively.
“I’ll bet it is. Oh, I mean, yes. Your muscles are very hard,” she confirmed, sounding a bit flustered.
He stepped even closer to her until they were nearly touching. Ginny was practically pressed up against the wall now and her chest was heaving. Harry leaned in towards her a little closer.
“Right! I’m off for a shower,” he declared happily, before turning and heading towards the stairs.
The sound of Ginny swearing quietly behind him caused him to start laughing.
Chapter 9: Chapter 9 – Matters of the Heart
Author's Notes: Well, Harry and Ginny’s flirtatious little games proved very popular in the last chapter; just as well there are a few more of them in this one.
A should also say a quick thank you to everyone who has left a review of this story or had a guess at the killer’s identity. It’s been fun reading them all.
Huge thanks as always to Arnel for her beta work. She knows the contents of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes stockroom better than I!
Maintaining a stealthy crouch, Harry jogged forward as fast he could while trying to keep to the shadows. Although he had a Disillusion Charm cast on him, the darkness would hide the giveaway blurring effect the charm suffered from when moving quickly.
He could clearly see Miles Woodhouse walking briskly about twenty yards in front of him. He’d been following the man ever since the Healer had left Paddington railway station. It looked very much like he was heading towards the canal.
The Tracking Charm Howell Owen had placed on Woodhouse had alerted the Aurors to the man’s unusual movements. For the last few days, Woodhouse had limited himself to traveling between St Mungo’s and his home, but for some reason tonight he had broken that routine. Harry was determined to know why.
Woodhouse turned and started to descend a set of steps that Harry knew led to a modern and highly expensive block of flats. Rather than enter the black-glass fronted building, however, the Healer followed the path to the right of the complex and joined the footpath that ran alongside the canal. This was a popular area, with a number of pubs and restaurants situated along the route, any one of which could have been the man’s destination. Woodhouse ignored the trendy drinking establishments and instead crossed the canal via a small metal footbridge. He was now entering an area of London known as Little Venice.
Keeping as close behind the Healer as he dared, Harry tried to guess where the man was heading. When Woodhouse darted through a metal gate, Harry realised he was entering the small park that was situated in front of the canal lock. The park was fairly sheltered as it was a level below the main road which ran next to it. The fact that Woodhouse was visiting it in the pitch-black of the night instantly made Harry suspicious.
Woodhouse halted in front of a small Victorian toilet block which served the park. He thrust his hands into the pockets of the thick overcoat he was wearing, and stamped his feet to ward off the cold. He was clearly waiting for someone.
“I’m here,” whispered a voice in Harry’s ear. He knew it was Susan, who had been tracking both Woodhouse and himself by means of the charm. She was also Disillusioned, and so had whispered to him to let him know she was nearby and ready. He knew the other three team members would be converging on the point that very moment.
Despite being rather distant, Harry was glad that his friend was at least talking to him again. He’d felt a keen sense of injustice at her cold shoulder for the last few days. It was her, after all, that had made him promised that he would prevent any intimacy between them. Still, he’d long since given up trying to predict Susan’s reactions to anything he did.
The situation did give him pause for thought, however. Previously, his rift with Susan would have left him feeling abandoned and dreadfully lonely. This time, however, he found himself much less troubled by her behaviour. Initially, he had put this down to the increased distance between the two of them, and his decision to finally accept that they would never be together. The more he thought about it, the more he realised there was probably a very good reason why he was less concerned about the situation. That reason was Ginny Weasley.
From the moment he had laid eyes on her he had thought her attractive. After getting a chance to get to know her a bit, he had revised that assessment to lovely. Now, having seen her dressed in nothing more than a clinging, wet towel, he would rate her as bloody gorgeous. But it wasn’t just her looks that attracted him. She had already proven herself a competent and intelligent Auror just a few months into the job. Ginny also had a mental strength which allowed her to act upon her convictions, no matter what anyone else might think. She was also just a fun person to be around. Since she’d moved into Grimmauld Place, Harry had laughed more than he had for ages, certainly since his godfather had died. The two of them certainly seem to get on well.
Now the only question was should he try for more from the relationship?
Harry shook his head. Now was not the time to think about such things. He forced his attention back onto the mission, while mentally chastising himself for being so unprofessional. Not that he appeared to have missed much; Woodhouse remained standing in exactly the same spot.
It was another ten minutes before anything happened. In the still, cold air Harry heard the woman’s approach before he saw her; her high-heeled shoes making a distinctive clicking sound on the pavement. The woman’s face appeared over the railing that overlooked the small park and, after seeing Woodhouse standing there, she descended the steps that led down to where he was standing.
She was impeccably dressed in an expensive looking coat and silk scarf. Harry thought that her high-heels were inappropriate for the bitterly cold weather and for the apparently nefarious activities she was indulging in. Were they witnessing some secret romantic rendezvous? The attractive Indian-looking woman was far out of the portly, grizzled Woodhouse’s league to Harry’s eye.
The woman gave a nervous glance around as she approached Woodhouse. In fact, Harry thought she looked rather anxious. Maybe something illegal was going on, after all? After a few hastily exchanged words which Harry unfortunately couldn’t catch, the woman reached into her coat and withdrew an envelope which she handed over to the Healer. Woodhouse took the envelope and jammed it into a pocket of his overcoat. He then took a small object out of his trouser pocket and, to Harry’s great surprise; he withdrew his wand and cast an Enlarging Charm.
The small object turned out to be a medium sized bag which Woodhouse handed to the woman. She grabbed it eagerly and peered inside as if to check the contents.
Harry agonised what to do. Every instinct in his body told him that something illegal was going on in front of him. However, they had tracked and followed Woodhouse tonight on the assumption that he was the killer and was heading out to find another victim. Could the contents of the bag have anything to do with that or was this something else entirely?
Seeing the woman was about to depart, he made his decision. Figuring that if the transaction he had just witnessed was in any way illegal it would give them the grounds to interrogate Woodhouse properly, he leapt into action. Whispered a quick ‘go’ to Susan he cast an Anti-Apparation Ward, knowing that his fellow Auror would be casting a Silencing and Muggle-Repelling Charm around the area. That done, he dispelled the Disillusion Charm on himself and raised his wand.
“Auror Department!” he yelled. “Drop your wands and stand still!”
Woodhouse looked up in shock and hastily pointed his wand at Harry. The Indian woman shrieked and stared in horror at Harry. A second later, she screamed again as Susan dropped the Disillusion Charm as well.
“Drop your wands!” Susan repeated, while pointing her wand at the Indian woman.
“Miles, who are these people? What do they want?” The Indian woman screeched in panic.
“They’re Aurors, Divya,” Woodhouse informed the woman in a shaky voice. “Magical policemen!”
“Police!” the woman yelled even louder. “You said no one would know about this! How did they find out? What will they do to me?”
“No harm will come to you, madam, as long as you drop your wand and raise your hands,” Susan insisted.
“I haven’t got a wand!” The woman bellowed. “I can’t do magic!”
“A Muggle?” Susan exclaimed. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing with a Muggle, Woodhouse?”
Woodhouse didn’t reply, however. He nervously shifted his aim from Harry to Susan and back again. He looked like he was on the verge of complete panic.
“Just back off or I’ll hex you!” the Healer warned.
“That wouldn’t be a good idea, boyo,” said Howell, who had just appeared at the railing overlooking the park. Woodhouse looked up over his shoulder at the big Auror before shifting his aim back to Harry. The Healer looked like he was really flapping now.
“Drop the wand, now,” Harry insisted in a firm voice.
“You heard the man,” said Ginny who had just popped into sight to the left of the Indian woman.
Woodhouse stared rapidly at each Auror in turn, clearly undecided what to do. He had fear in his eyes, and his whole body was shaking.
“You’re outnumbered four to one,” Susan pointed out, “and I really don’t think you stand a chance against any one of us.”
“Oh, and you did notice that one of us happens to be Harry Potter?” Ginny pointed out sweetly. “If Voldemort couldn’t beat him, I rather doubt you stand much of a chance!”
“Do something, Miles!” the Indian woman screamed.
This proved the distraction Harry needed. Not trusting the panicky Healer to do the right thing, Harry sent a silently cast Stunning Spell at the man as soon as he turned his head to answer the woman. Woodhouse dropped like a stone
“What have you done?” the woman screamed in horror. “Have you killed him?”
“He’ll be fine. He’s just Stunned,” Ginny explained. “Now, why don’t you hand me that bag you’re holding?”
The Indian woman hesitated and clutched the bag even tighter to her chest. Harry sighed. Why did people never just accept it when they were in a hopeless situation?
“Let me just explain things to you,” Ginny said in a conversational tone. “This little stick I’m pointing at you is a magic wand. I’m a fully trained witch and with this wand I can cast a wide variety of spells, hexes and curses at you. These can range from a mild Tickling Hex to a spell that would kill you stone dead before you even knew what happened. So I’ll ask again, nicely, give me the bag.”
For a second, Harry thought the woman was going to try and run, but in the end she proved smarted than Woodhouse had been. With slumped shoulders, the woman held out the bag to Ginny, who quickly took it from her and started to examine the contents. With a frown, she reached in and withdrew a familiar looking bottle.
“Skeleton-Grow!” she exclaimed. “There’s blood-replenishment potions, Dreamless Sleep potions, all sorts in here! But what use would they be to a Muggle?”
“It’s a common misbelief that magical potions don’t work on Muggles,” Susan explained. “Everyone has some sort of magical core, even if most people’s is too small to ever perform magic. These potions would be far less effective on a Muggle then they would be on us, but they would still work. You have to be careful though; some magical potions can be extremely harmful to Muggles.”
“But why were you being given them?” Harry asked the Indian woman. She just clamped her lips together and glared at him. Shaking his head, Harry pointed his wand at her. “Legilimens!”
Harry maintained eye contact with the woman for a moment before breaking away in disgust. He turned to his colleagues.
“This woman’s name is Divya Bharti and she is a doctor at St James hospital where Healer Woodhouse did his study of Muggle medical techniques. It appears Miss Bharti is a bit of a rising star in the medical community, where no one can figure out how she manages to obtain such spectacular recovery rates. Of course, we know how, don’t we,” Harry explained.
Bharti was staring at him in horror.
Walking over to Woodhouse, Harry retrieved the man’s wand before reviving him. He stood over the prone Healer with a disgruntled expression on his face.
“Miles Woodhouse, I’m arresting you for illegally trading in potions, suspicion of theft, breaking the International Statute of Secrets, and anything else I can bloody think of before we get back to the Ministry,” Harry growled before handcuffing the sullen man.
“So, it looks like Woodhouse has nothing to do with the murders then,” Susan noted as prepared to move the pair.
“Yeah, and thanks to this clown we’ve been sent on a wild goose chase,” Harry spat. “I can only hope no one else gets hurt as a result!”
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
The next evening, Ginny was puttering around the kitchen at Grimmauld Place putting the final touches to the beef stew she had prepared for dinner that night. Although she had joked about the standard of her cooking to Harry, when she put her mind to it she was quite capable of producing some fine meals. She’d just never really had the motivation to do so before.
Harry had been delayed at the Ministry and Ginny suspected he was having a hard time explaining to Robards why the team had been trailing an unimportant petty criminal for the last few days rather than the serial killer. She ground her teeth in frustration at the turn of events.
Once they had got Woodhouse and Bharti back to the Ministry, the whole story had come out. While Woodhouse had been at the Muggle hospital the potential for a bit of extra income had occurred to him. An arrangement was made with the young, ambitious Doctor Bharti after Woodhouse had demonstrated the effects of his ‘miraculous’ potions to her. The Healer then helped himself to St Mungo’s stocks using an elaborate system of forged invoices and treatment records, and sold the supplies directly to the wealthy Bharti who enjoyed a massive boost in her reputation. While Bharti would escape with a simple Obliviation, Woodhouse would be suffering instant dismissal from St Mungo’s, and a lengthy prison sentence. At least the man’s insistence that he had legal representation whenever he spoke to an Auror now made sense.
Ginny tried to put the events of the day behind her. Tomorrow was a day off for the team and they could recharge their batteries before restarting their hunt for the killer. Besides, she had other things she needed to take care of tonight.
Ever since the incident where Ginny had run into Harry after he had finished his workout, she had been plotting revenge. She still felt a strange fluttering sensation in her stomach when she thought about Harry’s gleaming, sweaty abs and his well-developed muscles. Unfortunately, it was quite clear Harry had been aware of the effect his body was having on her, and had teased her something rotten. Just for a second, when he’d leaned in towards her she’d thought… well, never mind. It was time for some payback.
She’d had to take a trip back to the Burrow to retrieve the outfit she was current wearing. In fact, she’d had to go up to the attic and root around a trunk containing a load of her old clothes to find what she’d been looking for. Frankly, she was surprised she could even fit into the items anymore as she’d been about fifteen when she last wore them.
Although her outfit was wholly inappropriate for a freezing night in December, Grimmauld Place was at least warm enough that her current level of dress didn’t result in hypothermia. She couldn’t wait to see what effect it had on Harry.
Letting the stew simmer, she picked up an old Quidditch magazine and sat down to read. It was around half an hour before she heard the front door slam. Dropping the magazine, she jumped to her feet. For a second she had a moment of panic. What if Harry wasn’t alone? What if he’d picked this day to invite Robards back for dinner?
“Harry, is that you?” she called.
“Yeah, it’s me,” she heard his voice faintly called. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Well, hurry up. Dinner’s ready,” she yelled back. She was pretty sure Harry would have said something then if he’d brought a visitor with him.
Mentally, she traced his footsteps until she was certain he must nearly be approaching the kitchen. She quickly got into position as she heard the kitchen door swing open behind her.
“Merlin, I thought Robards was going to keep me… gwark!” Harry voice exclaimed.
Ginny stood and turned to regard him. She’d had been bent over, seemingly searching for something in one of the low cupboards mounted into the work units. This just happened to accentuate the skin-tight, cut-off denim shorts she was wearing. She’d been amazed she could still fit in them as she was much more developed now than when she had last worn them.
She was very pleased to see Harry was standing in the doorway with his eyes bulging. Of course, now she was facing him he had the benefit of seeing her top. To complement her extremely skimpy shorts she’d picked a sleeveless white shirt which, rather than bothering with the buttons, she’d just tied off. This left her mid-drift bare and her cleavage (currently enhanced by her best push-up bra) rather exposed.
“Something wrong, Harry?” she asked in her best ‘innocent-little-girl’ voice.
“No! Not at all,” Harry said hurriedly. “It’s just…um…wow…that’s quite an outfit you have on, Ginny.”
“Oh, do you like it?” she gushed. “I picked up some old things when I popped home the other day. I wasn’t sure if it would fit.”
It very nearly didn’t fit. It had taken her nearly fifteen minutes to wiggle into the shorts and even now she was worried they might split. As she had no knickers on that could be embarrassing. Mind you, she was in equal danger of spilling out of her top, not that she thought Harry would mind.
“It looks great,” Harry confirmed enthusiastically. “You look fantastic!”
Ginny couldn’t help but blush at his compliments. That would never do; she was supposed to be teasing him, not simpering like a schoolgirl at his praise.
“Well, sit yourself down. I’ve made a nice hearty beef stew for dinner. I’ll dish some up for you,” she told him.
Harry sat down at the table and waited while Ginny ladled a healthy portion of the stew into a bowl. She then deliberately approached him from the opposite side of the table, meaning she had to bend forward to place the bowl in front of him.
He tried, bless him. He really tried to divert his gaze. His eyes flickered wildly as he attempted to look anywhere else then Ginny’s chest. He failed.
“Thank you,” he said in a somewhat strangled voice. It must have been warm in the kitchen because he seemed to have gone rather red.
“You’re welcome,” she purred. “I hope you like it.”
They ate largely in silence, but through her lashes Ginny noted Harry’s frequently glances in her direction. Perfect. If he was getting hot and bothered now, just wait until pudding, she thought.
After they had both finished their stew, which Harry lavishly praised, Ginny retrieved the bowls. She again stretched over the table to retrieve his empty bowl and was fairly certain she heard a faint whimper escape from the young man.
“Peaches and cream for dessert,” she announced. She repeated her stretching exercises in placing the bowl of fruit in front of Harry. By this point he didn’t even pretend to look away.
Ginny carefully gathered a dollop of thick, fresh cream onto her spoon and lifted it to her mouth. Somehow, however, it slipped off her slightly tilted spoon landed on her chest.
“Oh, how clumsy of me!” she exclaimed.
Carefully, she pulled her skimpy top to the side, apparently to stop the cream seeping into the material, but in practice to give Harry even more of an eyeful. She then slowly began wiping up the cream with her finger, lifting the digit to her mouth and sensually sucking it clean. She repeated the action twice more until all the cream was gone.
She looked over at Harry who was staring at her open-mouthed. He looked about ready to start chewing the table in frustration.
Grinning inwardly, she finished her desert before rubbing a hand over her chest.
“I’m all sticky now,” she declared softly. “I think I need a bath.”
Ginny walked round the table and leaned down to whisper into Harry’s ear.
“I hope you enjoyed…dinner,” she purred. “If you liked it I’m sure I could whip it up for you again. Would you like me to whip it up for you?”
“Yeah…great,” Harry said in a strangled voice.
“Super. I’ll do it for you…anytime,” she whispered. Standing she headed towards the door, lightly trailing her fingers through Harry’s hair as she went. She walked slowly with an exaggerated swing of her hips. By the time she walked through the kitchen door she could hear Harry banging his head on the kitchen table and moaning softly.
Damn, that was fun, she thought. Humming happily to herself, she headed up the stairs to reward herself with a good, long soak.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
The next day, Ginny made her way down to the kitchen in a good mood. After her successful teasing of Harry, she’d enjoyed an hour-long bath before returning to her room and snuggling up in front of the fire with a good book. Her plan had worked even better than she hoped and the sight of Harry practical drooling over her had been very gratifying, not to mention quite arousing, too.
It had also given her cause to think. Judging by the look on his face last night, it wouldn’t have taken much more for Harry to leap up, tear her clothes off and ravish her. The question was, did she want him to?
Before she’d moved into Grimmauld Place, the answer would probably have been no. Well, probably no. He seemed fixated with Susan and from everything she had heard she doubted he would have been interested in anything approaching a normal relationship. If there was one thing Ginny didn’t do it was one night stands.
But having moved into Harry’s home her outlook had changed. She began to realise a lot of her opinions about the man had been formed from information given to her by other people, principally Susan. Ginny didn’t think her friend had purposely lied, but rather Susan’s beliefs about the man were either out of date or skewered by her own emotions. Harry had been proved to be a kind, generous and fun companion. He also seemed to have gotten over Susan; Sonia’s belief that Susan’s relationship with Ernie Macmillan had forced him to move on apparently being correct. All this meant one thing.
Harry was fair game.
So, it boiled down to what to do next. Harry seemed interest in her and she was interested in him. The fact that they worked together was largely irrelevant; although there were none in the Department at present, in the past it was not unknown for husbands and wives to work on the same Auror team. Although Harry was her boss, that seemed unimportant. He just wasn’t the sort of bloke that would allow that to affect anything. Perhaps her only concern was the fact that they were sharing a house; what would happen if any relationship they entered into broke down? Even this felt like a minor concern to her. If things did go tits-up she could always move back home.
Ginny was pondering these thoughts as she entered the kitchen in search of some breakfast. As she walked through the door she stopped short as if she’d been smacked in the face with a plank.
Harry was already in the kitchen lounging against the worktop with a mug of tea in one hand and a carefully folded copy of the paper in the other. He was wearing a pair of jeans.
Just a pair of jeans, nothing else. Just a pair of worn, skin-tight jeans that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
As she entered Harry looked up and greeted her with a grin. “Morning, Ginny. How are you today?”
Ginny gasped. So this was Harry’s response to her teasing the previous night. She briefly wondered how much further they could escalate things before they both ended up running around stark naked. But it didn’t matter. This had to stop now.
She squared her shoulders and with her eyes blazing she marched up to him. She carefully removed the cup from his hand and set it down on the side before plucking the paper from his fingers and tossing it casually away.
“This has got to end!” she growled before reaching up and grabbing him by the hair. Using all her strength, she pulled the surprised man’s head down and crushed her lips to his. After the briefest of pauses, she felt Harry wrap his arms round her and eagerly return the kiss.
As first kisses go, it was a beauty. The second their lips met Ginny felt like a boxful of her brother George’s Wildfire Whiz-Bangs had been set off in her head. Before she knew it, their hands were roaming over each other’s bodies and their tongues were battling together in an erotic dance.
Ginny felt the dressing gown she’d been wearing being ripped from her leaving her standing in just a t-shirt and her knickers. She felt Harry’s hands slipping underneath her shirt and start to caress her flesh. In turn, she took the opportunity to run her hands over Harry’s firm abdominal muscles that she had so admired previously.
Pretty soon, she felt herself being pressed back against the kitchen table as Harry forced his body against her. She could feel his arousal pressed against her leg and it excited her wildly. She moaned in pleasure as his right hand began to massage her breast. Merlin, they were going to end up doing it right here on the kitchen table!
The kitchen table?
Just like he did with Susan?
Oh, crap.
“Harry, we have to stop a second,” she said pulling her lips from his. Harry for his part didn’t seem to hear her and started to plaster kisses along her neck, causing her to shiver with arousal. She could believe what she was about to do.
“Harry? HARRY! Stop, please,” she begged, pushing him away.
Harry pulled back in confusion. A second later his expression turned to one of consternation.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Ginny! I thought you… oh, hell. I’m so, so sorry,” he started to gabble.
“No, Harry, just stop for a second,” she pleaded, caressing his cheek with her hand. “It’s okay; I wanted it as much as you did. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why did you stop us?” he asked with a frown.
“Because we’re going too fast. I don’t want a relationship based on just sex. I don’t want us to be like you and Susan.”
Harry flinched like he’d been slapped in the face. For a second, Ginny thought that he was going to rage at her, but instead he slumped back into a chair. For a long time he just stared ahead of him in complete silence.
“So, where do we go from here?” he asked eventually, his voice sombre.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Do you want to try giving us a go as a couple?”
“I make a horrible boyfriend,” Harry admitted with a sad smile. “I get caught up in work and forget to do things I’ve promised. I never remember to buy flowers or chocolates. I don’t…”
“Harry!” Ginny cut him off. “I’m an ex-Harpy and now I’m an Auror like you. Do you think I care if you buy me flowers? I’d probably forget to put them in water and they’d die anyway.”
Harry snorted in amusement at that.
“I know what it’s like trying to do our line of work, and I know that we won’t always have the freedom to do what we want. The job comes first, right?” she continued. “But I don’t think we’re actually that far from having a pretty good relationship right now. We seem to have this whole house-sharing thing down pretty good, and we have a laugh while we’re doing it. The way I see it, we just need to continue the way we’re going and just step things up a bit. Do more things together.”
“What sort of things?” Harry asked.
“Oh, you know. The usual boyfriend/girlfriend stuff; going to the pub, going out for the odd meal, maybe watching a Quidditch match together,” Ginny suggested. “Look at it this way; the more meals you take me out for, the less you have to suffer my cooking!”
“But I like your cooking!” Harry protested. “That said, I’ve got no problem with us going out together occasionally. Maybe we could do something today?”
“I’ve already promised my parents that I’d visit them today, I’m afraid,” she said apologetically. “But that does bring up a good point. What are you doing for Christmas?”
“Christmas?” he replied, looking confused. “Um, nothing particularly. I haven’t really celebrated Christmas for years.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard how you and Susan used to spend the holidays,” she teased. “But how would you like to have a proper Christmas this year? We always have a big family blow-out and you could come with me. My family will want to meet you anyway and this way you won’t be by yourself.”
“I don’t want to impose,” Harry said hesitantly.
“You won’t be. My mother would never turn a hungry mouth away from her table,” Ginny assured him. “It would mean a lot to me if you came.”
“Okay, I’ll come,” Harry sighed. “Great, we’ve been a couple for all of five minutes and you’re already wrapping me round you little finger.”
“Get used to it,” she laughed before reaching over and gently kissing him. “Now, why don’t you go and slip on a t-shirt while I start breakfast? I don’t think I quite trust myself with you prancing round half-naked.”
“Oh?” he said with a cheeky grin. “Maybe I should stay like this then?”
Ginny slapped him playfully on the thigh. “Out! And don’t come back until you’re decent!”
Harry stood and looked at her with one of his lop-sided grins that drove her wild. Then, slowly, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was slow, passionate and very erotic.
“I think I’m going to enjoy this,” Harry said after he broke the kiss. He then turned and left the kitchen to go and finish dressing.
Ginny watched him go with her heart pounding and a very wide smile on her lips.
Chapter 10: Chapter 10 – Blood and Passion
Author's Notes: Oh, the problems I had with this chapter! I just could not get Harry’s first meeting with the Weasleys right, and it stuck out like a sore thumb in the middle of the story, to the point I nearly abandoned the whole thing. Oddly, when I was writing my first fan fic ‘The List’ it was the chapter where a similar meeting takes place that caused me problems, too.
In the first draft of this, Harry’s reaction to being thrown into the middle of a Weasley family Christmas was much more extreme to the point he suffered a panic attack. But try as I might, the whole thing just wouldn’t sit right. Fortunately, Mrs Brennus finished her Fine Arts degree and actually had some time available to help me. She read through it and basically told me I was looking at the whole thing backwards; Harry wouldn’t explode and panic, he would emotionally close down. And, as normal, she was right! Arnel also threw a few suggestions in (Ginny being grabbed as she entered the door and being dragged away was her idea) and basically the whole party scene now works a million times better than before.
BTW, Mrs Brennus got a first in her degree. She now has a piece of paper which says that she is officially much smarter than me. As if she needed a certificate for me to know that…
Mega thanks to Arnel for her suggestions and extensive beta work. Obviously my concerns about this chapter made me completely forget any basic grammar that I might have known. 89 corrections? Sob.
Harry stood in the cold, frigid air, looking at quite the strangest house he had ever seen in his life. If he ever had cause for doubt that Ginny came from a magical family the sight of their home would have dispelled such thoughts immediately. There was no way that place could remain upright without magic! He looked down at his new girlfriend and she smiled encouragingly back at him.
The last week and a half had been both wonderful and frustrating in equal portions. Unusually for Harry, it was his personal life that was providing the happiness while his work was the source of his annoyance.
The case had gone strangely quiet. Since the debacle with Healer Woodhouse, no new breakthroughs had been achieved. On the other side of the coin, there had been no further attacks either. The team had been reduced to slogging through records looking for suspects or maintaining covert patrols in places the killer could possibly strike.
Normally, Harry would have been pulling his hair out or taken up permanent residence in the public bar of The Broken Lantern by this point. Instead, he was finding his attention diverted by the small, red-haired, young woman who current stood beside him.
By mutual agreement, they had decided to keep their relationship quiet for the moment. Susan had been acting weird enough lately and they didn’t want to provoke her while they were in the middle of the case. Besides, it was nobody’s business but theirs.
Although he felt guilty for doing so, he couldn’t help but compare his relationship with Ginny to the one he previously had with Susan. It was like chalk and cheese. Vivacious and full of life, Ginny had a knack for preventing him getting too moody or downcast. He found that for the first time in his life he could leave work behind as soon as he walked through the front door of his house. He simply looked forward to spending time with her too much. While their physical relationship had not progressed beyond making out, Harry had to admit he found it strangely thrilling. He began to wonder just how good it would be when they finally did go to bed together.
If he’d still been with Susan the situation would have been very different, he felt. Susan would have shared his frustrations and poor temper which would no doubt have resulted in arguments between them. While the make-up sex would have been very welcome, it would have been papering over the cracks in their relationship. It was only from the prospective of his current situation that Harry could see how dysfunctional the pair of them had been.
Of course, it was one thing to be enthusiastic about his new relationship. Dealing with the compromises that it entailed was quite another. That was why he was here, standing outside this insane dwelling, about to participate in the Weasley family’s Christmas. Frankly, he was terrified. Give him a Dark Lord or murderous serial killer any day.
Contrary to Ginny’s teasing, it was not her multiple overprotective brothers or formidable mother that worried him. It was simply he just didn’t know how to act in this sort of gathering. The closest he had ever come to a joyous family Christmas had been a few years when he had first move in with his godfather. Those gatherings had been small, intimate affairs attended by Sirius’s friend Remus and occasionally the Tonks family. If he considered six people to be a large gathering how was he going to cope with the massed ranks of Ginny’s family?
“Come on, Harry,” Ginny encouraged him when he hesitated. “They won’t bite, you know. Everyone is dying to meet you!”
Thinking that was exactly what he was afraid of, he just gave her a fake smile and allowed himself to be dragged towards the house. Before he knew it, they had reached the door which Ginny had thrown open without hesitation, pulling him behind her.
He was instantly assailed by a wave of heat and noise. They had entered a huge kitchen area (which had to have been magically expanded, he bet) which was crammed with people of all shapes and sizes. On catching sight of Ginny, there had been a chorus of shouted greetings. Ginny just waved enthusiastically and then began to remove her hat and cloak. A second later, a blond-haired girl grabbed Ginny by the hand and dragged her away to where a group of young women were standing.
Harry began removing his long coat with the intention of following his girlfriend, when a matronly-looking woman descended on him and snatched the garment from his hand.
“You must be Harry Potter,” the woman gushed enthusiastically. “Ginny’s told us so much about you!”
“Err, hello,” Harry replied, a little taken back by the woman’s enthusiasm.
“Oh, but where are my manners,” the woman exclaimed. “I’m Molly Weasley, Ginny’s mother. I couldn’t believe my ears when Ginny said she would be bringing you. I was convinced she was trying to prank us! Oh, Merlin, I can’t believe it. My little girl stepping out with Harry Potter. My goodness!”
Harry was getting a little concerned that Mrs Weasley was going to start hyperventilating or possibly spontaneously combust. Before he had a chance to say anything further, however, a tall, balding man stepped forward and grabbed his hand which he then started shaking vigorously.
“Arthur Weasley, Ginny’s father,” the man introduced himself. “It’s an honour to meet you, it really is!”
“Pleased to meet you to, Mr Weasley,” Harry replied, carefully extracting his hand.
“Oh, none of that ‘Mr Weasley’ nonsense,” the man insisted. “Please call me Arthur. The same goes for Molly here. We don’t stand on ceremony in this house.”
“Arthur and Molly,” Harry confirmed. He then reached into his pocket and retrieved a tiny box which he then enlarged with his wand. He handed it to Arthur. “I brought some wine.”
“Oh, really, Mr Potter, you shouldn’t have. And so many bottles, too,” Arthur noted.
In truth, Harry had been very uncomfortable with the idea of turning up to a family Christmas dinner empty handed. Not knowing what else to bring, he’d fallen back on the traditional idea of turning up to a party with a bottle in hand. He’d then agonised on whether to bring red or white wine, before realising that if the dinner was as well attended as Ginny had suggested, a single bottle of either would hardly be adequate. In the end he’d brought four white and four red. Of course, now looking round the room he realised he’d brought nothing for all the children that seemed to be everywhere. He really wasn’t good at this family stuff.
“Um, yes, well. I hope you have a use for it,” Harry mumbled. “And please call me Harry.”
“Thank you, Harry,” Arthur aid, smiling warmly. “Trust me, around here wine will never go to waste. Well, come and meet everyone.”
The next half an hour was probably the most bewildering and uncomfortable of Harry’s life. He was dragged from person to person for introductions. The Weasley family seemed to be enormous and Harry was certain that he would be lucky to remember any of the names he was given. He shook men’s hands, stiffly received hugs from various women and even occasional kisses. Babies were thrust at him for his inspection and small children paraded in front of him for his approval.
The longer this went on, the more Harry felt his defences start to rise. Over the years, he had attended many Ministry events, normally on the strict orders of his superiors, and had through necessity developed a survival technique. His face became a polite mask, with a plastic smile plastered to it. He allowed the inane chatter to wash over him, feigning interest with the occasional nod of the head. To the outside world, he was well-mannered and courteous, while inside he squirmed from all the attention and the sickening fawning.
Throughout the extended introductions, Harry had been desperately looking round for Ginny. Unfortunately, every time he spotted her she had been engrossed in conversation with some family member or another. Currently, she stood on the far side of the room cradling a baby that appeared to belong to a dark-skinned woman with dreadlocks in her hair. Why had she dragged him here if she was just going to abandon him as soon as they arrived?
Fortunately, they eventually ran out of people for Harry to meet. Arthur made his excuses about helping his wife with the dinner, but he at least pressed a glass of wine into Harry’s hand before he vanished. Harry found a quiet corner and stood watching the chaos around him warily. He was starting to feel trapped and very uncomfortable.
Soon, Molly Weasley called everyone to the dinner table which precipitated a mad rush to grab seats. Harry hung back to miss the rush with the result that the only remaining seat available was some distance away from Ginny. He felt a stab of irritation that his new girlfriend hadn’t even thought to secure him a seat next to her.
He found himself sitting between a quiet, bespectacled young woman who seemed to be ignoring everyone and an attractive, blond-haired girl who immediately began to start flirting with him. He vaguely remembered the girl was called Lavender and was the girlfriend of Ginny’s youngest brother Ron, whom Harry assumed was the tall red-haired man glaring at him from the other side of the table. He just politely smiled at Lavender’s attempts at conversation and concentrated on his food.
Unfortunately, despite the excellence of the feast, Harry had found that he had no appetite. Despite being surrounded by people he felt alone and abandoned. He glanced down the table and saw Ginny happily chatting away with one of her brothers, a ridiculous party hat shaped like a swan perched on her head. She didn’t even glance his way once. He just picked at his food and nodded politely to Lavender as she continued to yatter away at him. He retreated more and more into himself and prayed for it all to end.
Unfortunately, the dinner seemed to last for hours. He managed to eat most of the meagre helping he had put on his plate, only for Molly Weasley to descend upon him and insist that he have seconds. Harry found his plate filled again without even being asked if he wanted anything further, much to his annoyance. He picked at the extra food, but knew he stood no chance of eating it all. He managed to sneak some of it back into the serving dishes and pushed his plate as far away from him as he could. He had just succeeded in ridding himself of the unwanted food when a large bowl of Christmas pudding with custard was dumped in front of him. He stared at it and desperately willed himself not to be sick. He managed two mouthfuls and just mashed the rest of the pudding into a pulp with his spoon.
Eventually, pudding was finished and the guests began to leave the table. The adults clustered together in small groups talking and laughing while children of various ages ran yelling at the tops of their voices. Harry refilled his wine glass and sought sanctuary. So far he had managed to maintain his mask of civility, but he was starting to feel a bit panicky crushed in by all these people.
Seemingly ignored for the moment, Harry quickly slipped out the kitchen door and into the garden. It was cold out here, but he felt instant relief to be away from the anarchic gathering inside. He breathed a sigh of relief and sipped his wine.
Harry stared bitterly into the middle distance. While he couldn’t fault the Weasley family hospitality, he found himself angry at Ginny. She knew he didn’t know anyone there, but had disappeared the second they had arrived. While he appreciated that she probably wanted to catch up with friends and family she hadn’t seen for ages, what was the point of insisting he came if she was going to do that?
For the first time since they had decided to get together, Harry began to doubt it would work between them. Maybe they were just too different types of people? She was happy and outgoing, full of life and comfortable amongst a crowd of people. He was reserved and solitary. While she had been in her element here, he had been forced to present a false face to the Weasleys, a disguise to hide his feelings of discomfort and unease.
He was startled out of his sombre thoughts by the sound of the kitchen door opening. Looking up he saw a red-haired man with long hair tied back into a pony tail. The most notable feature about him, however, was the deep scars that lined his face. Harry thought the wounds looked like the distinctive results of a werewolf attack, which meant the man was probably Ginny’s oldest brother, Bill. Silently, Harry cursed at the intrusion. Couldn’t the Weasleys give him five minutes to himself?
“Hi,” the man greeted him. “Hope you don’t mind some company?”
“Not at all,” Harry lied.
“I’m Bill, in case you’ve forgotten. There’s rather a lot of us Weasleys, and it must be impossible to remember all our names in one go,” Bill said with a smile.
“I did actually remember who you are, but I’ll admit you’re in the minority,” Harry agreed, pleased the man was at least showing a bit of understanding at his difficulties.
“Yeah, I thought so,” Bill replied. “I saw you when Dad was introducing you to everyone and you did have a bit of a ‘deer in the headlights’ look about you. So, you and Ginny, eh? That was a bit of a surprise.”
“Yeah, not that you would have realised we were together today,” Harry said, frustration creeping into his voice.
“Um, well, try not to blame Ginny too much for that. I think every female in the house wanted to hear about how she managed to land herself the legendary Harry Potter. No sooner had she finished telling her story to one person, than she was leapt on by another. I really don’t think she was trying to ignore you,” Bill explained.
Harry could only manage a non-committal grunt. Bill looked at him shrewdly.
“This isn’t easy for you, is it?” he asked. “Being in an environment like this?”
Harry looked up at the badly scarred man for a second and briefly considered telling him to mind his own business. In the end, he decided that would be unnecessarily rude, after all, Bill was the first person today to actually talk to him normally.
“It’s… not what I’m used to,” he admitted.
“It can be difficult, even for another family member, to deal with us lot,” Bill admitted. “I struggled for a long time at gatherings like these. After the war I got really angry about a lot of things: my injuries, my brother Fred getting killed, all the senseless horror I’d seen. I’d come to a family get-together and hear everyone rabbiting on about stupid, meaningless stuff and it was all I could do not to start yelling at them for being morons. But I had to stop and remember that they hadn’t seen the things I’d seen, they just didn’t understand what it was like for me.”
“I know what you mean,” Harry acknowledged. “After everything that went on during the war, most people seem happy to pretend nothing happened.”
“Exactly,” Bill agreed. “You lost most of your family in the war, didn’t you?”
“I lost all my family,” Harry corrected, “apart from my Muggle aunt and uncle who hate my guts, anyway. I guess that’s why I’ve felt so out of place today. I’m just not use to big family occasions like this.”
“Trust me, most people will never get use to a Weasley family gathering,” Bill assured him. “But it does get easier, you know. You just have to be prepared to grin and bear it. I can’t imagine how you must feel, losing everyone like that, but eventually you have to try to move forward. If you don’t you just end up bitter and lonely.”
Harry thought for a moment. That certainly had been the road he had been on. Ginny had started to change that, but was he ready to accept more change? Could he accept more change? Today’s events certainly suggested not. But what would happen to him if he couldn’t move forward? Was he destined only to date girls who had no family and a pessimistic view of life? How did he change things?
“How did you eventually move forward?” Harry asked eventually.
“I found a good woman and married her,” Bill admitted with a shrug.
“It was that simple, was it?” Harry snorted.
“No, it wasn’t. It took me ages before I was back to what I considered to be normal. But Fleur was with me every step of the way. Looking back, I needed a strong woman to get me through and, thankfully, that’s exactly what I found,” Bill explained. “Look, I’ve no idea how close you and Ginny are, but if you need a strong woman of your own, you could do a lot worse than her.”
“It’s still only early days,” Harry confirmed.
“Understood, but just don’t let today put you off her,” Bill advised. “Just explain to her how uncomfortable everything made you feel. She will understand, believe me. Just give her a chance, okay?”
“Yeah, I guess it’s not really her fault,” Harry conceded. “I should never have agreed to come today. I should have realised how it would affect me.”
“You had to give it a try,” Bill disagreed. “You can’t hide yourself away forever. You’ll just end up going mad if you do. Anyway, I’d better head back in. No doubt my daughter will be driving my wife round the bend by now, so I ought to go and give her a break. Nice talking to you, Harry.”
“You too, Bill. And thanks for the advice,” Harry said.
Bill gave him a casual wave of his hand and headed back inside. Harry slumped against the wall of the house and sighed. Was he really such a basket-case that he couldn’t stand to be in a room of happy people for more than a few hours? At least he wasn’t the only the only person to feel like that, according to Bill. Why couldn’t he put the war behind him like Bill had done?
“Well, it looks like I’ve fucked-up pretty good,” said a voice.
Harry looked up to see Ginny leaning against the doorframe with a miserable look on her face.
“I’m really sorry, Harry,” she continued. “I just thought that you’d enjoy a big family Christmas like we always have. I should have stopped to think how it would affect you.”
“Did you hear much of my conversation with your brother?” he asked.
“Most of it,” Ginny admitted. “Ironically, I saw Bill going out the door and I wanted to ask his advice about you. I guess I would have been better off just coming over and talking to you directly.”
“Yeah, you would,” Harry confirmed a little harshly. “I felt like I’d been deserted. What was the point of asking me to come today if you were going to ignore me?”
“There were just so many people here that I hadn’t seen for ages and they all wanted to catch up. Of course, everyone wanted to know how we got together and I had to tell them about that,” she explained miserably. “Every time I looked over, someone was talking to you so I just assumed you were having a good time. I didn’t think you were having a problem.”
Harry stayed silent for a minute trying to put into words how he felt.
“It’s just really difficult for me, Ginny,” he said eventually. “I lost everyone I ever cared about. Everyone I loved was just… gone. It’s taken me a long time to even get to this stage. To be suddenly thrown in the middle of a bunch of strangers all asking questions and acting like they know me… it just made me want to run out the door screaming. This isn’t my family and I felt like an interloper among them.”
“Am I dumped then?” she asked with a slight quiver in her voice.
Harry looked at her. Her big, beautiful brown eyes were shining with unshed tears. He was surprised to find he had a lump in his throat at the sight of her misery. Maybe he was making too much of this. It had been a simple mistake, after all. Not quite knowing what to say he just opened his arms and she threw herself into his embrace.
“I’m sorry, Ginny. I guess I’m still a bit more broken then I thought,” he mumbled.
“But we’re still together, yeah?” she asked looking up at him.
“Yeah,” he confirmed with a small smiled. “On condition you don’t invite me to any more of these family get-togethers for a long time.”
“Deal,” Ginny agreed. “Shall I grab our coats so we can go home?”
“I don’t want to drag you away from your family,” Harry objected. “You stay. I can say I’m needed back at work or something.”
“We either both stay or we both go,” Ginny said firmly. “As you look about ready to kill someone, I think we’d better go. Besides, Ron’s girlfriend Lavender is driving me up the wall.”
“Yeah, thanks for making me have to sit next to her at dinner,” Harry groused.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Harry. It’s kind of a tradition in our house that everyone tries to grab a seat as fast as they can. Because there’s so many of us, you have to get to the table fast if you want any food to be left,” she apologies. “Guess I should have mentioned that.”
“No, I’m sorry. This really shouldn’t be such a big thing for me. I can’t have dinner with my girlfriend’s family without turning schizophrenic.”
“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we go and nick one of those bottles of wine you brought, head back to Grimmauld Place and drink it cuddled up on the coach?” she suggested.
Harry grinned. “That sounds like a great plan, but with one modification. There’s plenty of wine back at the house. We don’t need to try and steal any of the bottles back.”
“Fantastic,” Ginny said happily. Her expression darkened again however. “I really am sorry, Harry. I did want you to have a nice Christmas.”
“Hey, the day isn’t over yet. There’s still plenty of time for things to improve.” He bent down and pressed his lips to hers. She returned the kiss passionately before he broke the kiss. “See, things are picking up already.”
“Wait here, I’ll grab our coats,” Ginny said, smiling brightly. “I’ve got a lot of making up to do and I’m keen to get started.”
She darted back into the house and returned a few minutes later with their things. Wrapping her arm around his middle, Ginny led him away from the Burrow. Maybe things will work out okay, Harry thought.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHP
He sat in the dark and brooded. Three young witches had been sacrifice and three rituals performed, but he still felt no different. The book had warned him that the process had a high failure rate, but it was frustrating nonetheless.
Things were not going as he imagined. He’d hoped that he would have had some success by this point as he’d been so careful in selecting the girls. Having the entire medical records of St Mungo’s at his disposal had been a major help, but sadly it had not been reflected in his results. If only the damn book had been a bit more specific!
The Aurors were a worry, too. They’d been sniffing round and digging through the records office. He’d initially been concerned that his access to the medical files had been cut off permanently, but now he had a chance to think about it, he realised he was worrying for nothing. There was no way they would ever figure out how he broke into the records room.
The press annoyed him, as well. They were still convinced he was on some revenge mission against the pure-blood community. Bloody idiots. They were always so convinced that blood purity was so important, damn them. Why his father…
That brought him up short. He hadn’t thought about his father in a long time. He found himself a bit shocked that the memories were still so painful.
Unbidden, his thoughts turned back to that that fateful day when his life changed. After all these years he still felt the injustice of it all. To be cast aside and abandoned through no fault of his own, just to preserve the reputation of a noble pure-blood family! Bastard! He hoped his father was rotting in hell!
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down. It would serve them right if he did launch a campaign to slaughter the pure-bloods. How much suffering had they caused by their stupidity? But, no. He must keep his focus and concentrate on his goal.
That said, however, maybe a little amendment to his plans could be made. He didn’t have a suitable next victim lined up, but he knew there were a number of suitable candidates that he had already started researching in the records office. It would mean another trip to the room, but he was confident that he would not be seen. The results of the ritual would be interesting as well.
Yes, he decided, it was time to mix things up a little.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
“Oh, and that’s a bad miss by Carl Jones! The Arrows are struggling to get points on the board tonight and he’ll be kicking himself for letting that opportunity going to waste…”
Ginny took another swig on her bottle of beer and smirked. Her prediction of a Tornados win was looking more and more certain every minute. If it carried on at this rate even catching the Snitch wouldn’t be enough to save the Arrows. The exasperated look on Harry’s face was funny, too.
It was a Wednesday night which meant that WWN would be broadcasting the mid-week game live. Since Ginny had moved into Grimmauld Place three months ago, it had become traditional for her and Harry to listen to the game together whenever work allowed.
By this point they had the whole process running smoothly. Firstly, they would walk to the Muggle convenience shop a couple of streets over and stock up on drink and snacks. On the way back they would each select the team they would be supporting that evening. They had quickly established a system where they would each pick one of the opposing teams just so they could have a bit of banter between them. Normally, they weren’t too fussy who supported whom with the exception of the Harpies and Puddlemere United, which Ginny and Harry would respectively always claim.
Once back to the house, they would settle down in front of the wireless, crack open the drinks and start on the snacks. They would then argue about who was going to win, often quite passionately, until it was time for the game to start.
It was evenings like this that made Ginny realise just how much Harry was starting to mean to her. Their relationship was progressing wonderfully. So far the only hiccup had been at Christmas when she’d badly misjudged Harry’s reaction to being put in a family environment. Admittedly, just dropping her new boyfriend into the middle of the Weasleys and virtually abandoning him hadn’t been the smartest move, but not thinking beforehand how he might feel about that situation, bearing in mind what happened to his family, was inexcusable. She’d come close to losing him before the relationship had really started, and she was determined not to make the same mistake twice.
A lifetime of hiding, training and fighting had made Harry quiet a solitary figure. He was definitely a person who could be comfortable being by himself, although Ginny suspected that he yearned for more company at times. She’d eventually decided that Harry needed time to adjust to his change in relationship status. It would be best if initially their spare time was spent with just the two of them. Later, she would start to integrate friends and family into their activities, but for the moment she would concentrate on them building up a solid understanding between them.
“And there goes Ava Tillman! She’s seen the Snitch and she must have a good twenty-yard head start over the Arrows Seeker and… yes! She’s caught the Snitch! Tornados win 240 points to 60!”
“Bloody hell, what’s happened to the Arrows? They were brilliant last season, but this year they’re crap,” Harry moaned.
“I told you,” Ginny smirked, “losing both their Beaters at the end of last season was a huge blow. The Arrows based their whole game on their Beaters’ plays. The pair they roped in just aren’t a patch on O’Conner and Curtis.”
“I think you’re right,” he acknowledged.
Ginny watched him as he drained the last drops from his bottle of lager and placed it on the table in front of him. He then reclined back on the couch, folding his hands behind his head. His t-shirt rode up slightly as he did so exposing a small area of flat, toned stomach. She thought his relaxed posture was very sexy and entirely too tempting.
Putting down her own bottle, she moved over and pressed herself against him. Snuggling into his side, she slipped one hand under his shirt and ran her fingers over his warm flesh. She heard him breathe in sharply and knew she was getting him turned on. The feeling was definitely mutual. They still hadn’t gone all the way yet, but it was getting harder and harder for her to come up with reasons why they shouldn’t.
Obviously feeling he was missing out, Harry shifted slightly so he was able to slip his hand under her own shirt. She couldn’t help but shiver with pleasure at his touch. He leaned in and captured her lips with his own. Growling with desire, Ginny moved over until she was straddling him, with their bodies pressed together. Their kissing became more and more urgent and she felt his hands move up her body until they were cupping her breasts. She moaned into his mouth in approval.
Ginny realised they were getting close to the point of no return. Each time they found themselves in this position, it became harder and harder to stop. She could feel his arousal, pressed up against her through his jeans, and it excited her beyond belief. This time, she decided, when he started trying to remove her clothes she wouldn’t stop him. She was ready.
Suddenly, Harry pulled his mouth from hers and twisted his body. She found herself deposited on the coach next to him. She looked up in confusion.
“Sorry, Ginny. That was getting far too intense,” Harry apologised. “Much more of that and I don’t think I could have been able to stop.”
For a second, Ginny could only stare at him open mouthed before she let out a groan. She’d been the one setting the limits of how far they went, and Harry had decided they had been fast approaching the latest boundary she’d set. She really didn’t know whether to bless him or curse him at that exact moment.
“What’s the matter?” Harry asked.
“I… I wasn’t ready to stop,” Ginny complained.
“Sorry, Ginny,” he said with a grin, “but I was just about on the verge of tearing your clothes off with my teeth. Any more and I think we’d have ended up going a bit further than you intended.”
“As I said,” Ginny said slowly, trying not to let her frustration become evident, “I wasn’t ready to stop.”
Harry looked at her sharply.
“You mean… you would… what I mean to say…” he gabbled.
“Harry, I think I’m ready to take the next step,” she confirmed.
“Oh! Um, well… do you want to…” his voice trailed off.
“I think the moment has passed tonight,” she said regretfully. “But next time… let’s just say that if I’m not stopping us, then you shouldn’t either.”
“Right. Next time,” Harry repeated, disappointment written all over his face.
“Hey, you were the one that stopped, not me,” she teased. “But remember, Harry. This is a big step for me. I mean, deciding that my first time will be with you was a big decision.”
“Your first?” Harry blurted in disbelief. “You mean you’re a virgin?”
“And what’s wrong with that?” she replied with some heat. “Just because I haven’t dropped my knickers for every bloke who comes along, you think there’s something wrong?”
“No!” Harry exclaimed. “Sweet Merlin, no. I was just surprised. I mean, you’re so confident and sexy, I just couldn’t believe you hadn’t done it before.”
“I am confident, but I don’t see what that has to do with whether I’ve shagged or not,” she objected. “I’ve never met anyone I’ve felt strongly enough about to want to do it with. That’s only right, surely?”
“Ginny, please,” he said, taking her hands in his. “I wasn’t criticizing you. I admire you, honest! You always do what you believe is the right thing and I totally respect that. It just shows what a strong, determined woman you are.”
She felt him squeeze her hands and could see the warmth in his eyes. She smiled shyly at him, more certain than ever that she had been correct to wait for the right man.
“I’m honoured that you’ve chosen me to be your first,” Harry continued. “And I promise, when you’re ready, I’ll do everything I can to make it special.”
“Thank you, Harry,” she whispered, melting into his embrace.
How it was only a question of when they took the next step, not if.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
“Oh, damn it!” Elizabeth cursed.
The wheelie bin she had been dragging to the curb had just managed to get one of its wheels stuck in a crack in the pavement. In irritation, she wiggled the bin until it was free. She then pushed it up against the fence lining the front of her garden and left it for the refuse collectors who would be due shortly.
Shivering in the cold morning air, she hurried back into the house. It was times like this that she hated living in a Muggle area, but she hadn’t got much choice really. The house had been left to her by her parents who had both died the previous year, and she honestly couldn’t afford to live anywhere else. Even if she sold the property she doubted she would be able to buy anywhere half-decent in a magical community. She therefore had little option other than to continue to live here and hide her magical abilities from her neighbours.
Elizabeth sighed with relief as she closed the front door and savoured the warmth of the house. Foolishly, she’d ventured out wearing nothing warmer that a sweatshirt. Even though she’d been out for just a couple of minutes, she was freezing. She headed for the front room where she could stand in front of the fire and thaw out for a moment.
She had just started to warm her hands in front of the roaring flames when she heard a noise. Spinning around, she listened hard trying to figure out what the sound was. There was no one else in the house, but she would have sworn she heard someone moving about.
Moving slowly, she edged towards the living room door. Instinctively, she reached for her wand which she normally kept tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. With a start, she realised she’d left it on the kitchen table when she’d been doing up the bin bag. She was defenceless.
She paused in the hallway. She had two choices: either go out the front door or head towards the kitchen and investigate the source of the noise. Maybe she was just being silly and imagined she’d heard something? Deciding she would be fine once she had her wand, she crept towards the kitchen. The door was ajar and she peered in. Nothing looked untoward and she could clearly see her wand lying on the table. She hurried forward to grab it.
Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind. Elizabeth tried to scream, but whoever it was clamped their hand over her mouth. She struggled to break free, but her attacker was too strong. She felt herself being pushed forward and then pressed down hard against the table.
She felt a sharp pain in her neck like she’d been stabbed with a needle. After a moment she started to feel strangely sleepy. Her eyelids became heavy and her struggling ceased. In the back of her mind she realised she had been injected with something and she was powerless to fight against it.
As her body relaxed she felt her attacker lessening the pressure on her back. Desperately, she tried to reach across the table and grab her wand, but her arms just wouldn’t respond. Her legs buckled and she slowly slid down onto the floor.
Although her eyesight was becoming blurry, she could she a man standing over her. He was fairly unremarkable and dressed plainly in jeans and a black jacket. In his hand, however, she saw he held a syringe. Panic started to battle with her wooziness. Who was this man and what the hell did he want?
“The drug won’t kill you,” the man said in a conversation tone. “You see, I need you to be alive when I take what I need.”
With that the man carefully put the syringe into the inside pocket of his jacket and in its place removed a small knife. At the sight of it Elizabeth desperately tried to scream, but she couldn’t make a sound.
“I’m sorry,” the man said as he knelt beside her.
His plain face was the last thing she ever saw.
Chapter 11: Chapter 11 – Through Gardens of Grief
Author's Notes: A bit on the short side this chapter at just under four and a half thousand words, but I just had to end it where I did. You’ll see what I mean when you get there.
I’m pleased to say that with this one I’ve achieved a long held dream of mine: getting Ginny to dress up in a Policewoman’s uniform. Now how do I get her to dress like a French Maid? Err… sorry, just daydreaming there.
Thanks to Arnel for beta-ing this. Only 21 revisions this time, who-hoo! I may yet avoid getting a good spanking! (Sorry, I have no idea why my Author Notes came out so pervy this time, honestly…)
Harry glanced at his watch. It was only mid-morning, but he was feeling restless. The other team members would probably not be back for hours yet, if at all that day. He was just glad that he had avoided having to spend all day in court.
Across the table, Ginny looked up at him and smiled. They had shared a strange sense of excitement for the last few days. They both knew that they were on the verge of taking their relationship to the next level, but neither of them wanted to rush it unnecessarily. There was a delicious feeling of anticipation in the air, and Harry couldn’t wait for the right moment when he would take Ginny into his arms and make love to her. He could almost feel the electricity crackling around them.
His daydream was suddenly shattered by the door to the incident room swinging open and Susan and Sonia entering. Neither of them looked very happy.
“So, how did it go?” Ginny enquired a split second before Harry could open his mouth.
“Two years… suspended!” Susan snapped. She’d been in a fowl temper for days and her mood appeared to show no signs of changing.
“He also got hit with a thousand Galleon fine,” Sonia added.
“Like that means anything to Draco bloody Malfoy!” Susan cursed. “I tell you, the whole thing was rigged! Look how quickly the whole trial took. I expected to be in the courtroom all day, but it was all over within an hour. Malfoy had that bloody judge bought and paid for!”
“I’m not so sure, Susan,” Harry said. “I mean, no one was actually hurt by Draco’s little stunt, were they? It could be argued that nothing he did was with malicious intent, so a suspended sentence actually doesn’t seem that unreasonable.”
“That’s because you don’t know Draco, Harry,” Ginny disagreed. “Anyone who actually spent any time around him would probably think Azkaban was too good for him.”
“Damn right!” Susan snarled. “And once again the little shit has gotten away with it, just because he’s rich.”
“He’s not that rich,” Harry disagreed.
“Oh, come on, Harry! You went to Malfoy Manor; you saw the sumptuous splendour that bastard lives in. He’s rolling in it,” Susan snapped at him.
“He was rich, certainly,” Harry explained. “But remember, I was at the trials of most of the convicted Death Eaters after the war and one of the ones I attended was Lucius Malfoy’s. The Ministry seized a lot of the family’s assets as reparations and that manor is about the only thing they have left. Voldemort used up a huge chunk of the family’s wealth, too. No, that thousand galleon fine is going to hurt Draco a lot. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had to sell the family home to pay it.”
“Draco’s poor?” Ginny said with a gleam in her eye. “Oh, happy day!”
“Well, that does actually make me feel a lot better,” Susan admitted. “He used to flaunt his wealth all the time at Hogwarts. I expect losing his money was just about the worst thing that could have happened to the arrogant little toe rag. And of course his political career is all but finished now, too. With a criminal record he’ll be barred from taking a place on the Wizengamot. Yeah, maybe it wasn’t such a bad result, after all”
Just then, an internal memo flew through the door and landed just in front of Harry. He picked it up and carefully unfolded it before reading it intently. His expression darkened as he read.
“What’s up, Harry?” Susan asked.
“It’s from the Muggle Liaison Department. They have had a report of a suspicious murder passed on by the Muggle police. They reckon that it may be linked to our investigation somehow,” Harry explained before looking over at Ginny. “I think we’ll need to pay a visit to your dad, Ginny.”
Ginny smiled happily.
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The team hurried down the corridor towards the Muggle Liaison Department. Harry had only been there a couple of times before, and would probably have become lost without Ginny to guide him. Her father was the Department’s Head and she was a frequent visitor to his office.
They passed through the large double doors and entered the busy room. As the department co-ordinated nearly all the Ministry’s interaction with the Muggle world, it required a large staff to keep everything running smoothly. Harry scanned the rows of desks looking for the tall red-haired man without luck.
“Over here, Harry,” Ginny called, leading the team round the edge of the desks and towards a further set of doors. They went through them and emerged into a smaller space which displayed little of the bustle of the outer office. Harry instantly spotted Arthur Weasley, who was making his way towards them.
“Ginny,” Mr Weasley greeted his daughter with a brief hug before extending his hand towards Harry. “Hello again, Harry. Thank you for coming.”
“Hello, Arthur. Nice to see you again, too. I understand you have some information for us.” From the corner of his eye he could just make out Susan’s raised eyebrows at his familiarity with Ginny’s father.
“Indeed, Harry,” Arthur confirmed. “Part of our role here is to monitor the Muggle world to ensure there is no unauthorised use of magic. To help us, we have a contact with the Muggle law enforcement services who informs us of any criminal cases that are unexplained or just a little weird. I’ve just received a report of a murder that occurred two days ago in Wembley that sounds very similar to the cases you’re investigating.”
“Who was the victim? A Muggle?” Harry asked.
“No, a Muggle-born witch,” Arthur replied. “She had a house in a Muggle estate that used to belong to her parents. The report states she’d had… um, bodily organs removed from her in just the same way as in your case.”
“A Muggle-born,” Susan muttered. “If this is the work of our killer then it’s going to blow a lot of our theories out the window!”
“Where’s the body?” Harry asked.
“It was being held at the nearest Central Middlesex Hospital, but has just been released to the local Coroner’s Office,” Arthur confirmed. “I can arrange for you to visit disguised as Muggle policemen, if you like. It’s a simple matter to arrange the necessary paperwork.”
“That would be great, Arthur,” Harry confirmed. “We liaise with Muggle police ourselves from time to time, so we have our own uniforms which we can Transfigure to fit us. If you can provide the required documentation that would that would be super. How would you recommend we get there?”
“I can arrange a van to pick you up and take you there,” Arthur promised. “You’ll fit right in.”
“Fantastic, Arthur. You’ve been a huge help,” Harry said appreciatively.
“Not at all, Harry,” the man replied. “I was so sorry you had to rush off so fast on Christmas day. I’d have liked the opportunity to chat to you some more, but things are always a bit manic around our house at Christmas. Perhaps you and Ginny could come over for dinner one night soon?”
“Um, yes, that would be nice,” Harry said uncomfortably. There was no missing the glare Susan was sending his direction, or the intense interest Sonia was showing in the conversation. Howell just winked at him.
“Wonderful!” Arthur exclaimed. “Why don’t you all go and get into your disguises and come back here in an hour. Everything should be ready for you by then.”
“Thanks again, Arthur,” Harry said, before hurrying back out the way they’d come. Maybe if he walked fast enough he could avoid being cross-examined by Susan.
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One and a half hours later, the team, minus Howell who would struggle to pass himself off as a Muggle, were sitting in the back of a Police van on their way to the Walthamstow Coroner’s Office. Harry was dressed as an Inspector, Susan as a Sergeant and Ginny and Sonia were both WPC’s. Harry was doing his best to stop from noticing just how good Ginny looked in the uniform. He wondered if he could convince her to wear the outfit back at home.
So far, through a mix of subterfuge, evasion and a few hard stares, he had avoided being questioned by Susan. Now they were all enclosed in the back of this van, he doubted he would be so lucky.
He wasn’t.
“So, you spent Christmas with Ginny’s folks did you, Harry?” Susan asked in a deceptively calm voice.
“Yes, Ginny very kindly invited me to have dinner with her family,” Harry confirmed, hoping Susan would drop the matter.
“I didn’t think it was right that Harry spent Christmas alone. After all, everyone else had someone to be with. Did you and Ernie have a good Christmas?” asked Ginny, throwing fuel onto the fire.
“I’ve had better,” Susan snapped, glaring at Ginny for a second before turning her attention back to Harry. “I must admit I’m surprised you’d attend a big family dinner like that. After all, I know how much you hate that sort of thing. You must have been climbing up the walls.”
“I had a very nice dinner, thank you,” Harry growled. In truth he did, it was just the mass of strange people that had made him want to run from the house screaming.
Susan nodded, but looked unconvinced. She really did know him too well, Harry lamented.
“That was very nice of you to invite him, Ginny,” Susan said, sounding like ‘nice’ was the last thing she thought it was. “But I suppose that since you moved in with him you two have become close.”
“Yes, we have,” Ginny confirmed in voice edged with steel. “We’ve become very good friends.”
“I just bet you have,” Susan said sarcastically. “Do you get a discount on the rent if you get your knickers off for him?”
“SUSAN!” Harry roared. “You apologise to Ginny this second! Where the hell do you get off saying things like that to her?”
“Okay, maybe that was a bit much,” Susan conceded. “I just don’t want you being taken advantage of, Harry. Miss Weasley here seems to have got her feet in the door pretty bloody quickly. I know you wanted some company, Harry, but you shouldn’t let her take you for a ride.”
“She’s not taking me for a ride,” Harry growled. “And what I do in my spare time has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
“Really?” Susan said, anger creeping into her voice. “I thought we were friends, Harry. And as your friend I feel I need to tell you when I think you’re making a mistake.”
“A mistake?” Ginny exclaimed. “You were practically pushing me at Harry when I first got here!”
“Yes, well. I didn’t know you were going to try and take advantage of him, did I? It took you all of five minutes to get a key to his house and I bet you’re not paying him much for being there, are you?” Susan spat. “What’s next? Working your way into his bed, I expect!”
Harry glanced at Ginny and saw a brief look of guilt cross here face, no doubt a result of the comment about the amount of rent she was paying. Unfortunately, Susan saw it too.
“You have! You bloody have, haven’t you!” she yelled. “First you worm you way into his home and now you trap him into sleeping with you. You little gold-digging bitch!”
“STOP IT! NOW!” Harry bellowed. He managed to get everyone’s attention but Susan and Ginny both looked like they were about to attack each other. “This is not the time or place to be discussing this. Susan, for your peace of mind, I’ll tell you that I haven’t slept with Ginny. However, as I’m proud to call her my girlfriend you shouldn’t be surprised if that does happen!”
Susan looked stunned at this announcement while, after a brief second of surprise, Ginny broke into a wide grin. Sonia just looked like Christmas had come early.
“Auror Shehata,” Harry said formally, “I trust you will be keeping quiet about this conversation. After all, if I start hearing gossip about me flying round the office I will know where it came from.”
“Of course, Harry… err, I mean, sir,” she replied with barely concealed glee.
Harry mentally sighed. He couldn’t very well order her not to talk about a conversation that had occurred openly in front of her, could he? It looked like he was going to be the talk of the office, once again.
“Right, now that’s out the way, can we please concentrate on work? In case you’ve all forgotten a young woman was murdered and we need to find the killer,” Harry growled.
His reminder must have done the trick as the rest of the ride was undertaken in silence.
Pretty soon the van turned off Acton Lane and pulled up outside the office. The Aurors piled out the back of the van and the driver sought a suitable parking place. They entered reception and were directed to the mortuary. On arrival they were surprised to find a young PC guarding the door. Harry approached him.
“Constable?” Harry addressed him in a stern voice. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been ordered to prevent any access to the body they brought in earlier, sir,” the nervous looking policeman replied.
“Prevent access?” Harry questioned. “By whom? And what station are you from?”
“Harrow Road nick, Sir,” the constable confirmed looking at them suspiciously. “The Chief Superintendent didn’t want other units sticking their nose in. Can I ask where you’re from, sir, and what your involvement is in the case?”
Bloody inter-department politics, Harry cursed. Even the Muggles were riddled with it.
“Specialist Crime Unit,” Harry informed the young man while thrusting his fake authorisation papers at him. “These will confirm we are permitted access to the body.”
The constable stared at the papers, obviously trying to look like he knew if they were authentic or not, while clearly not having a clue. Eventually, he looked up and pulled an apologetic face.
“I’m sorry, sir. I will need to clear this with my governor. He was quite specific about not letting any other units near the corpse.”
“Very well,” Harry said in an annoyed voice. The constable started to reach for his radio.
“Stupefy!” Susan’s cried, and the constable was knocked off his feet. He landed in a heap on the floor and was still.
“Come on, give me a hand dragging him into the morgue,” Harry instructed them.
Ginny opened the door while the other two witches helped Harry drag the unconscious policemen into the room, which was fortunately empty.
The room looked like a typical mortuary with a number of examination tables set up in the centre of the room. Upon one of these was a body covered with a green sheet. Susan approached the body and removed the sheet revealing a badly mutilated young woman.
“This has to be her,” Susan stated. She looked around for a second and found the body’s identification tag. “Yes, this is her: Elizabeth Jackson.”
“Okay, you three get to work. I’ll keep a look out,” Harry instructed them.
The three witches surrounded the body and began casting detection spells, while Harry went and stood by the door. With the three of them working together it didn’t take long for them to complete their standard examination of the victim.
“I’m pretty sure it’s the same killer, Harry,” Susan confirmed. “Heart and liver removed in exactly the same way as before.”
“There’s no sign of any magical residue on her,” Sonia stated. “In fact, I don’t think she’s performed any magic for a while either. She must have got used to living like a Muggle.”
“I’ve found traces of the same mix of chemicals that was used on the other victims,” Ginny revealed. “There’s a small puncture wound on her neck as well.”
“Damn,” Harry swore. “So the killer has changed his pattern. If Miss Jackson here is really a Muggle-born that eliminates a lot of potential rituals our nameless killer could have been performing.”
“Not to mention discrediting the whole ‘revenge against the pure-bloods’ theory the press are so keen on,” Susan pointed out.
“Yeah, well, I’m not too bothered about that,” Harry said. “Come on, we’ve got what we came for. Let’s get sleeping beauty here back outside and we’ll head back to the van.”
They dragged the policeman back into the hall and cast a quick Rennervate Spell on him. The constable groggily stood and looked at them in confusion.
“Are you alright, constable?” Harry asked, faking concern.
“Uh… yes, sir. I don’t know what just happened,” the man said in confusion.
“You should probably have a bit of a sit down,” Harry suggested. “We’ll head over to Harrow Road and have a chat with your Superintendent and will be back once we’ve got clearance to view the body.”
“Umm, yes, sir,” the policeman responded, still looking rather confused.
Harry and the three witches turned and headed back out the Coroner’s Office. In his mind, he pondered what this new victim meant to the case. Frankly, it seemed they were further away from finding the killer than ever.
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“So, we can categorically state that this girl is the victim of the same killer?” Robards asked insistently.
“I’d say we are ninety-nine per cent certain,” Harry confirmed.
“Well, as tragic as this girl’s death is, it’s going to be a great relief to confirm to the press that this isn’t some crusade against pure-bloods. I’ll arrange a press-conference for this afternoon,” Robards declared.
“Yes, sir,” Harry replied, feeling a little resentful at his superior’s obvious glee at the latest victims Muggle-born status. Robards himself came from a very old, pure-blood family and would probably have little empathy for the victim.
“So,” Robards continued, “this throws the investigation into a new light. I assume we are still working on the belief that the victims are being harvested for body parts to use in a ritual?”
“Yes, sir,” Susan confirmed. “Just from Ministry records we can identify twenty-seven different rituals using the heart and liver from a female that don’t specify blood status.”
“Fine, we have the same motive, but I think we need a new approach in cracking this case. I think it’s fair to assume that the killer won’t be able to get information on his victims from St Mungo’s anymore, so he’ll have to try something different,” Robards pondered. “He may get desperate and try to take girls as the opportunity presents itself. I think it’s worth staking out popular night spots and see if we can lure him out.”
“What, have some of the team go undercover?” Harry asked. “All of the victims so far have been carefully selected. I can’t believe our nameless killer will just start attacking girls on the street.”
“I still think it’s worth a go,” Robards persisted. “After all, do you have any other firm leads?”
Harry could only shake his head.
“I thought not. Right, I suggest we do this in two days’ time. Aurors Bones, Shehata and Weasley will all go undercover. I think we’ll have two of you operating around Diagon Alley and the other one in Hogsmeade. Harry, you and Owen will shadow one of the young ladies and, in view of the importance of this case, I’ll follow the other.”
“You, sir?” Harry blurted in surprise.
“Yes, me, Potter! What? Do you think I’m not up to the job?” Robards growled.
“No, that’s not it, sir! But as Senior Auror it’s pretty unusual for you to go out on missions, let alone stake-outs,” Harry protested.
“I’m quite aware of that, Potter,” the older man snapped. “But it’s my head on the chopping block if we don’t get results. Besides, it will do me good to get out of this bloody office for a while.”
Harry meekly agreed and plans were put in place for the undercover operation to go ahead that coming Saturday. It was decided that Sonia and Howell would operate from Hogsmeade, while Susan and Harry, as the most experienced pair, would take the area around Knockturn Alley. Gawain Robards, much to Harry’s discomfort, would be trailing Ginny around Diagon Alley itself. A final briefing was set for eight p.m. that Saturday.
With everything decided, the team made their way back to their own office. Once there, Harry sat the assembled Aurors down.
“It everyone okay with this operation?” he asked.
“I can’t see the point of it, myself,” Susan grumbled. “I reckon us three will be spending the night fending off drunks trying to pick us up. Like you said, our killer has been far too methodical to suddenly start dragging girls off the street.”
“I’m with Susan,” Sonia confirmed. “But it’s not like we have a choice. Robards seems set on this idea.”
“Ginny?” Harry prompted noting that the red-haired girl was usually quiet.
“I don’t know, Harry,” she admitted. “I’ve just got a bad feeling about this. But like Robards said, what other options do we have?”
“Not a lot,” Harry admitted. “One thing though. Robards mentioned that St Mungo’s is no longer available as an option for our killer to obtain information on potential victims. But has anyone checked to see if Elizabeth Jackson’s records were still in their files?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Susan admitted. “I’ll owl the Records Department at the hospital to find out.”
“Great, I still think the way the killer has picked his targets is key to this whole thing. I’m sure the answers we need are at St Mungo’s somewhere.”
The others nodded but had no further suggestions. As Harry let the team get back to work, he pondered the coming mission. He had to agree with Ginny; he had a bad feeling about the whole thing as well.
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The Leaky Cauldron was typically busy for a Saturday night and Ginny was getting tired of being jostled and pushed among the press of bodies in the pub. The serving staff had been alerted to her status as an Auror and every time she went to the bar she was being served with fake Firewhisky, so at this late hour she was not only tired and bored, but disgustingly sober as well.
At the end of the bar she could see Gawain Robards still doing a very good impression of a drunk. Ginny knew he had been drinking alcohol-free drinks all evening as well, and she had to admit she was impressed by his acting skills.
Sadly, Susan’s prediction for the evening had proven correct and she had a seemingly never ending mass of wizards trying to pick her up, some rather aggressively. It appeared that if you were a single woman in a pub at this time of night you were considered fair game. Still, she’d only had to hurt one of the men so far, much to the amusement of his mates.
With a deep sigh, she took another swig of her fake Firewhisky. It was another hour until closing time. Once she left the pub she would be following a pre-planned route following some of the darker and more deserted side streets. If anything was going to happen, it was going to be then. Right at that moment, she’d be glad to get on with things.
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He sat and watched the pair of them with mounting anger. Did they really think he was so stupid? The idiot Aurors stuck out a mile among the drunken crowd. He’d made the fat moron propping up the bar as soon as he’d walked into the place. The girl had been harder to spot but as the evening progressed she became fairly obvious. After all, how many single girls spent all night in a busy pub purely to fend off blokes chatting them up and to remain sober?
As last orders were called, he moved carefully into place. Rather than trailing the girl, his initial target would be the fat Auror. He made sure he stayed behind the man and remained out of sight.
The girl left the pub first. She made rather obvious eye contact with the fat man as she left and he had to stop himself laughing at the pair’s unprofessionalism. Still, he wasn’t going to complain if it made his life easier. As the fat Auror lurched from his seat and made his way out the door, he carefully followed behind him.
As he suspected, the fat Auror was intent on watching the girl as she headed out into the night. As a result, the man was not really paying much attention behind him. He waited until the girl rounded a corner and was momentarily out of sight when he struck. He’d kept a short, metal bar hidden up his sleeve just for this purpose. Just as the Auror was starting to increase his pace to catch with his partner, he smashed the bar against the back of the man’s head. The Auror dropped like a stone.
Quickly, he dragged the unconscious man into a side alley and hurried off in pursuit of the girl. In the darkness, with his bulky robes on, he would hopefully be mistaken for the girl’s partner.
He followed the female Auror at a discrete distance for nearly twenty minutes before she stopped under the cover of a shop porch. This must have been the end of the couple’s agreed route. Perfect. He closed the distance between them rapidly taking care to keep his face hidden within the confines of his hood. He felt just like a naughty school-boy about to play a prank.
“I said this was a complete waste of time,” the girl complained as he approached. “Let’s get out of here and see if the others have had more luck.”
With mounting excitement he closed the gap between them and, as soon as he was just a couple of feet away from her, he lunged. The girl was taken completely by surprise as he plunged the syringe into her neck.
“What the…you’re not…” the girl said weakly before she slumped to the ground.
A quick glance round showed the coast was clear. He grabbed the girl by the arms and dragged her into the dark passage between the shop and its neighbour. He felt elation as he pulled the girl’s clothing open to reveal her naked flesh. Although she was paralysed, the girl’s eyes watched him in terror as he reached into his robes and pulled out his knife.
“You tried to stop me, but in the end you’ll be helping me,” he told the girl. “You see, you have something I need.”
Triumphantly, he began his grisly work.
Chapter 12: Chapter 12 – Come Into My Parlour…
Author's Notes: WARNING! Scenes of a sexual nature ahead. Really, if you’re easily offended you may want to skip bits of this. If you are under legal age you should not be reading it, either. If you are underage and continue reading be warned: I will hunt you down and stomp on your Xbox.
Right, with that out of the way I would just like to say; wow! Where did all those reviews come from for the last chapter! As I type there are 40 reviews for chapter 11 (and I promise I will get round to answering them all). Amazing! Thank you to everyone who took the time and effort to comment. It really is appreciated.
Also thanks to Arnel, who has been stupendously quick in beta’ing all the chapters for this story and has provided some really helpful comments and suggestions throughout.
Okay, I’ll shut up and let you read the penultimate chapter of this story. Enjoy!
Harry sprinted down the road with Susan at his heels. His destination was clearly marked by the gaggle of people crowded round, trying to see what was happening. He was surprised at the size of the crowd given the early hour.
“Make way! Aurors coming through!” he bellowed.
The crowd reluctantly parted and Harry shoved a few roughly aside to encourage them. He heard Susan yelling at some unfortunate who had stepped in her way as he ducked under the tape that had been placed around the passageway’s entrance. He briefly caught the eye of the Auror who was standing on crowd control duty, a young man named Bartimous if he recalled, and Harry noted the anger on the man’s face.
He barrelled down the passageway until he came to a stop in front of a small group. Each of the people who stood there had an expression of cold anger on their faces. Lying on the ground between them was a sheet-covered object that could only be a body.
Harry took a steadying breath and with trembling hands reached down and gently pulled back the sheet. He looked at the familiar face in horror. Behind him, he heard Susan give a strangled cry and begin to sob. He slowly replaced the sheet.
“How’s Howell doing?” he asked.
“Not too good,” Ginny informed him in a dead voice. “The Healers say that he may have some permanent brain damage, but it’s too early to say. The blow was nearly enough to kill him.”
“How the hell did this happen?” Harry demanded. “Howell and Sonia were too good to be caught unaware. What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Ginny replied, sounding close to tears.
Further conversation was interrupted by Gawain Robards’ arrival. Like Harry, the Senior Auror strode over to the sheet covering Sonia’s body and briefly lifted it. His normally granite-like face cracked for second and he stifled a sob. Almost tenderly, he lowered the sheet back down and stood.
“This has gone on long enough,” Robards snarled. “This has to end now! Find the bastard who did this. I don’t care how you do it, or whose toes get stepped on. I don’t care if you have to rip St Mungo’s apart brick by brick. Find the murdering scum now.”
Without another word, the man turned and walked away rapidly, looking more broken-up than any of the Aurors had even seen him. Susan watched him go with a bitter expression on her face.
“And just how are we meant to do that?” she spat. “What does he think we’ve been doing all this time?”
“I think he had the right idea, though,” Harry said. “Let’s head over to the hospital and see if the admin staff had any luck tracing Elizabeth Jackson’s medical records.”
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The remaining team members entered the records office at St Mungo’s in a sober mood. The Hospital Administrator noted their arrival and leapt out of her seat to intercept them.
“I’m glad you’re here,” the woman said in a hushed voice. “I’ve been trying to contact you.”
“We’ve been busy,” Harry replied gruffly. “What did you need to talk to us about?”
“Not here,” the woman hissed and motioned for them to follow her. She led the Aurors to a small office, which they all filed into. The Administrator closed the door behind her firmly.
“It’s about that medical file you requested, the one for Elizabeth Jackson,” the woman explained. “We’ve checked all through our records and we can’t find the file.”
“So, Elizabeth Jackson must have been one of our killer’s targets from the start, after all,” Susan pondered.
“No, you don’t understand,” the Administrator huffed. “As soon as we knew that certain of our files were missing, we did a complete audit of the hospital records; just as you people instructed. We identified every missing file at that point and Miss Jackson’s was not one of them!”
“You mean…” Susan exclaimed.
“The file has been removed since the audit,” the woman confirmed.
“Has your team been following the security protocols as we instructed?” Harry demanded.
“Absolutely,” the woman confirmed. “Access to the records has been limited to selected team members and everyone who was admitted into the room has been logged and magically tagged. Only four people have been allowed into the records room and they have all been security checked by you Aurors.”
“Do we know if Jackson’s file is the only new one missing?” Ginny asked.
“Yes, we re-cast the audit spell and that was the only file that had been removed. I honestly have no idea how it was taken. The whole room has been heavily warded, by the hospital’s security team as well as you Aurors. Any attempt to Apparate or Portkey directly into the room would have set off half a dozen alarms!”
Harry, Susan and Ginny stood and exchanged concerned glances. Something very strange was going on.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Ginny stumbled through the Floo and stepped into the sitting room at Grimmauld Place. A few seconds later Harry followed her.
She threw herself down on the couch and kicked off her shoes. It had been a long, depressing day and she felt completely dispirited. She was struggling to accept the fact that Sonia was dead despite having seen her mutilated body laying in that dingy alley in Hogsmeade. Was it only yesterday that Ginny had sat next to the gossipy woman while they ate their lunch?
Much worse was the sense of guilt that plagued her. When she’d first looked at poor Sonia’s disfigured remains she’d felt a strange sense of disbelief, that there was no way that torn, ravaged body could be her friend. Then, a new thought occurred to her, one that made her feel shame; better her then me.
In training they had been warned that the first time they witnessed the death of a colleague would be traumatic and were likely to encounter guilt and remorse in equal measures. Her reactions were very a human response, but that offered little comfort. Now Ginny just felt dead inside.
Harry flopped himself down next to her and sat with a distant look on his face. Although he was only a few inches away from her, it was like he was a million miles away. It made Ginny uncomfortable; she needed him desperately at that moment.
“Is it always like this?” she asked. “When you lose a colleague?”
Harry seemed to stir and he turned and looked at her with a mournful expression.
“For me every time is different,” he said quietly. “Sometimes I get so angry I just want to smash up everything around me. Other times I just want to curl into a ball and cry. Right now I don’t know what to think. This case has got me tied up in knots and nothing is making any sense to me.”
“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Ginny said with a shake of her head. “It was just yesterday the two of us were sitting in the canteen and she was going on about how she was convinced Jerome Stevens was shagging that blond girl from legal.”
“She was right, too,” Harry grinned weakly. “I received a complaint from the Head of the Legal Department last week. Apparently, the two of them were caught indulging in ‘inappropriate behaviour’ in a stationary cupboard during working hours. I had to give Stevens an official warning.”
Ginny giggled briefly before the laughter died on her lips.
“Hold me, Harry. Please,” she begged in a small voice.
Harry barely paused before slipping his arms around her and pulling her tightly against him. She pressed her face against his shoulder and enjoyed the warmth of his body next to hers. But it wasn’t enough; she needed more. She had come face-to-face with death that day and she needed to feel alive. She needed Harry’s touch on her skin and his lips against hers. She wanted everything he could give her.
“Make love to me,” she whispered in his ear.
He pulled away slightly so he could look her in the eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Totally. I need you, Harry. I’m ready,” she told him firmly.
He said nothing, but eagerly crushed his lips to hers.
The second their lips touched, Ginny felt the hunger inside her grow. Apparently, Harry felt the same way as he passionately kissed her. With a gasp, Ginny felt her clothes being ripped from her body. Eagerly, she began to pull at Harry’s clothing, quite literally ripping the shirt from his back. Soon, they lay naked on the floor, their hands roaming fervently over each other’s bodies. Without warning, Harry suddenly sank his teeth into her neck. She screamed, both with pain and desire, and her nails bit deeply into his back. She could feel him shudder with pleasure and excitement at her actions.
Driven to the edge of his tolerance, he roughly picked her up and flung her onto the sofa. Before Ginny knew what was happening, he had entered her and began roughly thrusting himself into her. She howled like a wolf, screaming from the initial pain and at the same time welcoming it. She was alive and she craved every sensation her body could give her.
The pain passed quickly and was swiftly replaced by pure lust. She looked up into Harry’s bright green eyes which were staring at her hungrily.
“Faster!” she begged him. “Harder!” she screamed, digging her nails into his buttocks and urging him on.
Harry responded, pounding away at her. She screamed every single swear word she knew. Her body shuddered repeatedly as she climaxed. Her entire world now just contained indescribable pleasure and those brilliant green eyes looking into hers.
Just as she thought her body would explode, Harry stiffened and pressed himself against her has tightly as he could. He gave a shuddering gasp, and collapsed on top of her.
Ginny grabbed his hair and began to plaster his face with hot kisses. Eventually, Harry shifted his weight and they curled up tightly together. Exhausted, Ginny felt herself begin to drift off to sleep. Her last thought before sleep claimed her was that maybe she understood Harry and Susan’s strange relationship a little better now.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Sometime later, unseen by the sleeping lovers, the Floo flared with a green light and Susan Bones stepped into the room.
She blinked in the darkness of the room, which was lit only by the fire behind her. She was tempted to call out to announce her arrival, but the stillness of the house made her hesitate.
Truthfully, she was uncertain why she had come here. She’d broken up with Ernie just hours before. It wasn’t his fault, not really. He just didn’t understand what she was going through. Oh, he’d been sympathetic enough, but when he’d made a comment about Sonia’s death being understandable because of the job they did, she’d lost it. Susan screamed and swore at her bemused boyfriend. She’s thrown things at him and threatened him with physical harm. Even then it would have been alright if he’d reacted as she needed him to, but he didn’t. He’d grown angry, but rather than responding to her and giving her a channel for her rage, he’d simply walked away.
She’d sat in the kitchen of their shared house and cried. She was alone; angry and hurting. And all Ernie had done was moan about the smashed crockery and walk off. Cowardly bastard. All the doubts and fears she’s been having about their relationship came back to her forcefully, and she realised that Ernie just wasn’t the man for her. It was over between them.
Hurriedly, she’d gone upstairs and packed her things. She’d been slightly surprised that in the large house they had shared so few of the items in it had been hers. It meant that she’d magically been able to pack in a few minutes, before she shrunk her bags down small enough to put in her pocket and make her way to the front door. Ernie had stood by and watched her leave, never once saying a word to her. Maybe he didn’t think the relationship was worth saving, either.
Deciding she needed a drink, she’d made her way to the Broken Lantern and knocked back a few large vodkas, before she had begun to calm down. Reality had then hit her, she was alone and homeless, with nowhere to go and no one to comfort her. Seeing nothing else for it, she’d obeyed her default instinct and taken the Floo to Harry’s house.
Susan took a few steps forward into the darkened room. Her instincts told her someone was nearby, but she could not see or hear anyone. As she walked forward, she caught sight of two figures lying together on the couch. She took a sharp breath as she realised the two entwined bodies were Harry and Ginny.
For a long time, Susan stood and stared at the pair of them. Emotions raged within her and she fought down her bitter jealousy and anger. Logically, she knew she had rejected Harry and even encouraged him to find someone else. But seeing the results of her action lying contentedly in front of her was just too much. She needed comfort from Harry like never before, but instead he had given it to the young woman now resting in his arms. Before she knew what she was doing Susan had pulled out her wand and was pointing it at the couple.
The wand dropped from Susan’s limp fingers and fell quietly onto the carpet. She clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sob that escaped her. What in Merlin’s name was she doing? She had no claim on Harry. Hell, she’d practically encouraged him to get together with Ginny. And now here she was, embittered and vengeful just because he had done just that.
Sadly, she bent down and picked up her wand. She was a mess inside and she really needed to sort herself out. It occurred to her in that moment that maybe the reason that she and Harry had never worked out was down to her own insecurities and problems, rather than anything he’d done. What a fuck-up she really was.
She pointed her wand at the sleeping couple again, and conjured a light blanket to cover them before she stepped back to the Floo. There were some beds back at the Auror Department she could use tonight, and she’d try and find somewhere to stay tomorrow. She had a lot to think about.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Ginny stirred as the sun began to creep through the window. She gradually became aware that her face was pressed against what felt like someone’s naked shoulder and her eyes shot open. She looked up at Harry’s sleeping face, and she relaxed as memories of the previous evening came to her.
She realised she was wrapped around Harry, with her legs intertwined with his. He had his arms around her and they were both covered by a light blue blanket. The house was quiet and all she could hear was Harry’s relaxed breathing in her ear. Feeling a sense of contentment she couldn’t recall feeling before, she snuggled in tighter against her boyfriend and sighed happily.
Her movement must have awoken him as he moaned quietly before stretching himself. The feel of his naked body against her sent a thrill through her. She pulled away slightly so she could look him in the face.
“Morning,” she whispered.
“Morning, lover,” he said, grinning at her. He then leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
“I could get used to waking up like this,” she purred, before she sobered slightly. “Harry, what happened last night… it wasn’t just a reaction to what happened, was it? What I mean is that I…”
“Ginny,” Harry interrupted, “What happened last night was wonderful. It had nothing to do with what happened to poor Sonia, and it has nothing to do with Susan, either. It’s just about you and me. I made love to you because I’m very, very attracted to you and I hope you feel the same.”
“I do feel the same,” Ginny agreed urgently. “I guess I’m just worried. Everything seems to have moved so fast. It feels like it was only five minutes ago I was walking into the Auror Department for the first time, and now here I am. I just… please just tell me this is real, Harry. That we’re a proper couple and that I’m not just a distraction from all the shit that’s going on.”
Harry looked intently into her eyes. “I promise this is real, Ginny. I’ve fallen for you, big time. This isn’t just about sex or my bloody weird hang-ups. I want you to be mine.”
“Good, because I really want this to work between us, Harry,” she said smiling.
“Me, too,” he agreed, before leaning in to kiss her again.
The kiss was gentle and sweet and was rapidly followed by another. Ginny felt Harry shift his weight slightly and roll on top of her. She realised they were about to perform a repeat of the previous night and the thought thrilled her. Eagerly, she pulled him even closer to her and shifted her position slightly to allow him entrance.
As frantic and needed had been their lovemaking the previous night, this morning their tryst was gentle and tender. Harry smothered her face and neck with soft kisses and lovingly caressed her body with light touches of his fingers. His movements were slow and gentle, making her body ache for him. Ginny lost all sense of her surroundings and was only aware of him; their bodies joined together. Her hands stroked his back, encouraging him and pressing him tight to her. Her breath came out in shuddering gasps and low moans, while he repeatedly whispered her name in an almost reverent tone.
Harry finished with a low cry and she could feel him trembling against her. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled his lips to hers, trying to convey through the kiss all her love and gratitude for the wonderful experience they had just shared. Eventually, Harry slumped against the back of the couch and Ginny reached down and retrieved the blanket which had fallen to the floor. Suitably covered again, she rested her head against his chest.
“We are going to be so late for work,” Harry mumbled.
“Well, I’m going to blame my boss, personally,” Ginny said smiling. “I was just about to get ready, but he distracted me.”
“Ah, sod it,” he snorted. “What’s the point of being Assistant Head Auror if you can’t give yourself a few hours off now and then? Of course, you have to agree any time off with your Team Leader, so you’re in big trouble.”
“Git!” Ginny exclaimed. “Do you want me to tell Susan exactly why I’m late?”
“She’ll find out sooner or later. I think it would just make things worse if we try and hide anything from her,” Harry replied thoughtfully.
“I guess you’re right,” she acknowledged. “I suppose we better get up and get ready for work.”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed reluctantly. “Not that I want to face it at present. I’d much rather just stay here with you under this blanket you conjured.”
She purred her agreement and snuggled closer to him. A second later a frown appeared on her face.
The blanket she’d conjured?
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
It was nearly another hour before the pair of them made it into the office. They were immediately informed that Robards wanted to see them and that Susan was already in with him. With some trepidation, they made their way over to the Head Aurors office.
“Ah, there you are,” Robards said briskly as they entered. “We’ve had another letter from our nameless killer.”
Harry reached out to take the letter from his boss’s hand, thankful his tardiness was not being questioned. He noticed Susan’s sorrowful stare, but he ignored it for the moment. He began to read.
You will by now have learnt how foolish it is to lay traps for me. I’m sorry I had to kill one of your Aurors, but nothing, and I mean nothing, can be allowed to interfere with my work. Please do not try anything of a similar nature again as I do not wish to take the lives of anymore of your colleagues. They are not the true targets I seek, after all.
My task continues and I will take more lives until it is finished. My work cannot and must not be stopped! You MUST understand that. Even if it means betraying my few remaining friends, I must be allowed to finish.
It is a hard path I travel. I am forced to stab my brother in the back when I would rather cut the heart from my father, but he is beyond me.
The nameless man
Quickly re-reading the letter before handing it to Ginny, Harry pondered the killer’s latest words. What was all that about stabbing his brother in the back? Was he talking literally or figuratively? Did this mean the man was not working alone? And how the bloody hell had he spotted Sonia and Howell so easily?
“I’m still convinced St Mungo’s is the key to all this,” Robards said, interrupting Harry’s thoughts.
“I agree,” Susan chipped in. “The hospital seems to be at the centre of all this.”
“We still need to figure out how the Nameless One is getting access to the medical files,” Ginny reminded them.
“Okay, let’s head back to St Mungo’s and have another look round the records room,” Harry decided. “Maybe we’ll spot something we missed previously.”
He wasn’t hopeful.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Feeling despondent, Harry wandered between the large racks of files in the records room at St Mungo’s. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, and their lack of progress depressed him.
He was, however, in total agreement with Robards that the solution to the mystery was here in the hospital. He had a feeling the answer was staring him in the face, but he just couldn’t see it.
He halted for a second, trying to gather his thoughts. How had the nameless man managed to get back into this room? Access was strictly limited and the only entrance was heavily warded. Detection Charms would have alerted them to any magical activity in the room, so Apparation or Portkey entry was out. What possible magic could the killer have used to get in here?
Then a thought occurred to Harry. The nameless man had so far displayed no evidence that he could even do magic, let alone advanced spells capable of defeating the Aurors’ Protection Charms. Indeed, the idea that the man was a Squib seemed to fit things perfectly. So if he didn’t use magic, what did he do? Harry mentally slapped himself; he’d been so busy thinking of ways a wizard would enter the room, he didn’t stop to consider how a Muggle would do so.
With renewed energy, Harry hurried down the aisle towards the back wall. The main door was out; Squib or not, the Detection Spells would identify anyone who came in that way. There had to be something else.
Following the wall, he started to make his way round the room, looking for anything unusual. Could there be a trap door or some hidden passage? He began tapping the wall at random intervals to see if he could find any hollow spaces.
He had just rounded the corner of the room when he noticed a large ventilation grill mounted high on the wall. It was situated right next to one of the storage racks, so he was able to climb up the end of the rack to examine the vent more carefully. From his elevated position, Harry inspected the vent closely. It was secured by four screws, one at each corner, but as soon as he touched one to establish if was secure, it wobbled slightly. He found he could pull the screws out with just his fingernails.
The vent, he found, was held in place by cords secured on the other side. Poking his wand through the grills on the vent, he was able to cast Cutting Charms at the cords allowing the vent to fall free. It fell with a crash.
“Harry? Ginny?” he heard Susan’s voice call from somewhere nearby.
“Over here,” Harry called. “I’ve found something!”
A few seconds later, both Susan and Ginny appeared, guided by Harry’s voice. They looked up at him in curiosity.
“There’s a passageway here,” he confirmed, pointing down the shaft. “I can see where the dust has been disturbed. Someone has been down here. I’m going to crawl in here and see where it leads.”
“Don’t be silly, Harry,” Susan scolded him. “You’d barely fit in there. I’m smaller; I’ll go in.”
And I’m smaller than you,” Ginny countered. “I should do it.”
“Sorry, ladies,” Harry said with a grin. “I’m pulling rank on you.”
Without another word, Harry leaned out from the rack he was clinging to, and put his left arm, then his right, in through the vent. As Susan suggested, it was a tight fit, but he managed to get his shoulders through the gap and then pushed the rest of his body into the space with his feet. Once in, he found he could crawl along quite easily.
He’d gone about six yards down the shaft when he heard a noise behind him and he guessed one or both of the girls were following him. Seeing no reason to object, he continued to wiggle along the enclosed metal space.
It wasn’t long before the shaft turned sharply to the right and began to widen. He could feel the angle of the shaft gradually descending and he realised they must be heading towards a lower floor. After some time, he began to notice a light ahead and he crawled rapidly towards it. At the end of the shaft he encountered a hinged metal grill which swung open at his touch. He pulled himself through and found himself in a dark room which contained a few boxes shoved into the corner. A door was situated on the far side.
Further investigation was curtailed as Susan’s head appeared through the shaft opening. Harry turned and helped her out. A few seconds later, Ginny appeared as well and soon the three of them were stood in the room looking cautiously around.
“Where the hell are we?” Susan demanded in a whisper.
“No idea, but I’ll bet this is how our nameless killer got into the records room,” Harry said.
“Well, we might as well press on,” Susan reasoned.
The three of them approached the door and cast a few Detection Spells on it. Seeing nothing to worry about, they cautiously opened the door. The room beyond was pitch black so they cast Illumination Spells with their wands. As the light flared, Ginny let out a gasp.
“What is that on the floor?” she demanded.
“A pentagram,” Harry breathed. “And that looks like some sort of alter beyond it.”
“Come on, let’s get a closer look,” Susan declared, stepping into the room.
“Be careful…” Harry managed to say just before something lashed out and struck Susan. She screamed and fell to the ground.
Looking on in horror, Harry realised that Susan had sprung some sort of trap. Before them, still vibrating from the impact with Susan’s body, was a thin wooden pole which had a number of spikes mounted along its length. He assumed the pole was flexible enough to spring out at anyone who triggered the trap. He dropped to his knees beside Susan, who was pressing her hand to her stomach. Blood was dripping between her fingers.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Susan screamed in agony.
“Susan!” Harry yelled, “Let me see the wound! Let me try to heal it!”
Ginny appeared at his side and forcibly moved Susan’s hand away. Blood immediately began to gush from the wound. Harry ripped away Susan’s robes so he could see the damage better. He was appalled to see a deep tear in her flesh. Her stomach was by now a sticky red mess.
“Hold on, Susan,” Harry urged and began casting Healing Spells at the wound. Although he managed to stop the bleeding, Susan began to shake and a sickening gurgling sound came from her throat.
“Fuck, Harry! I think that spike must have been poisoned!” Ginny shouted.
Cursing, Harry reached into his robes. Fortunately, all Aurors carried a small first-aid kit with them on operations. Each of these kits included a Bezoar, which should be an antidote to any poison. Harry was more worried about being able to get Susan to swallow it. With trembling hands, he located the stone and pulled Susan’s mouth open. He placed the stone on her tongue and clamped her jaw shut. Ginny, who was behind the injured witch, pulled Susan’s chin up in an effort to make her swallow it. Susan was making gagging noises and fighting against Ginny’s grip.
“Come on, Susan,” Harry begged. “Swallow it!”
Susan’s eyes went wide and her whole body was shaking. Then, just as Harry was starting to panic, she gulped and let out a shuddering breath. Ginny loosened her grip in relief.
“Let’s use the emergency Portkey to get Susan to the hospital’s lobby,” Harry suggested. “It will be much faster than carrying her.”
Ginny nodded and a second later the three Aurors shimmered and vanished as the Portkey activated.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Susan winced at the sunlight as soon she opened her eyes. Why did it have to be so bloody bright?
She tried to roll over so she was not directly facing the window, but as soon as she tried to move a stabbing pain in her stomach caused her to moan and stop moving. Her hand automatically went to her stomach and she was surprised to find that a bandage was wrapped around her middle. Slowly, memories of what had happened returned to her.
“The Healers say you should remain as still as possible for the moment,” said a masculine voice next to her.
Turning her head, Susan saw Harry sitting by her bedside with that lopsided grin of his spread across his face. She managed to smile back at him weakly.
“How long have you been here?” she asked him.
“Since you were brought in yesterday. Of course, we didn’t have far to bring you, just up from the basement. The Healers say you’re going to be fine,” Harry assured her.
“What happened?” she asked. “I remember stepping into that freaky altar room, but it’s all a bit blurry after that.”
“You triggered a Muggle-style booby-trap. A pole was set to spring out and hit anyone who touched a trip-wire strung across the doorway. The pole had several poisoned spikes mounted along it, and you got impaled on a couple of them. It was lucky Ginny and I managed to get you to swallow that bezoar or I don’t know what would have happened,” Harry explained.
“But I’m okay now? There are no side effects from the poison?” Susan asked with concern.
“No, you’re fine,” Harry assured her. “The poison was a non-magical variety and the Bezoar handled it without any problems. The stomach wounds you received were very painful, but not life threatening. You’ll be sore as hell for a few days, but after that you should be fine.”
Susan looked up at Harry and a wave of guilt hit her. She’d been a complete bitch to him for days now but here he was, sitting by her bedside, when she most needed him. She reached out and took his hand.
“Thanks for sitting with me, Harry. I really do appreciate it. I know I’ve not been the nicest person to you or Ginny for a while now, and I’m sorry. I guess I was just jealous that she seems to have managed to make it work between the two of you, while we couldn’t.”
“We’re better off as friends, Susan,” Harry told her.
“Are we? Still friends, I mean?” she asked quietly.
“No matter what, you’re still my best friend,” Harry assured her.
“Thank you, although I don’t deserve it. This isn’t going to create problems between you and Ginny is it?” she asked.
“Nah, Ginny knows how I feel about you. But Ginny’s your friend, too. She’ll stand by you just as I will,” Harry said.
“That’s open to debate,” Susan snorted. “She’s got a bit of a temper on her, that one.”
“Just apologise and everything will be fine,” Harry confirmed. “She was here earlier, but she was so tired I sent her home to sleep.”
“Still worrying about everyone other than yourself,” Susan scolded him. “You look done in, Harry. You should go and get some sleep as well.”
“I will, now I know you’ll be okay,” Harry promised. He then looked at her warily. “I contacted Ernie and told him that you were here, but he didn’t seem interested in coming to see you. I couldn’t quite get a straight answer out of him why that was.”
“We’ve split up, Harry,” Susan confirmed. “He was just… it just didn’t work out. I thought he was exactly what I wanted, but I was wrong.”
“Well, I always did think he was a pompous prat,” Harry grinned. “I always thought you could do much better than him.”
“I guess, but I’m still not with the man I really want to be with,” She replied, looking him straight in the eye.
“Susan, I…” Harry began uncomfortably.
“It’s alright, Harry,” Susan interrupted. “I’ve got the message, and I think you’re right. We are better off as friends. Now bugger off home and get some sleep. I’m sure Ginny will appreciate the company.”
Harry grinned at her and leant forward to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“The right bloke for you is out there, Susan. You just haven’t met him yet,” he assured her.
“Well, I wished he’d bloody hurry up. You know I can’t abide tardiness,” Susan joked.
Harry laughed and turned to leave. Just as he got to the door he stopped and looked back at Susan for a second.
“Susan, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about a conjured blue blanket, would you?” he asked.
“You and Ginny make a very cute couple,” Susan said grinning at him. “Besides, I got to see you naked again, didn’t I?”
Laughing out loud, Harry waved goodbye and vanished out the door. With a sad sigh, Susan watched him go.
She knew things were better this way, but she couldn’t help but feel unhappy. Desperately she wished that she and Harry could have sorted out their differences and made a go of things, but that just wasn’t going to happen. They were just too different, and a relationship had to be about more than shared tragedy and sex.
Harry was right; she just hadn’t met the right man for her yet. At least now she could look around her with open eyes, and maybe actually recognise the perfect man when she saw him. She wouldn’t spend her time comparing every bloke she met with Harry, because that simply wouldn’t be fair to anyone. Besides, she knew now that Harry wasn’t the right person for her, no matter how much that hurt.
Pulling the sheets up to her chin, Susan let herself drift off to sleep again. She was sure everything would look better when she awoke.
Chapter 13: Chapter 13 – Family is Everything
Author's Notes: Well, didn’t I just throw the cat amongst the pigeons with that last chapter! I should stress, I wasn’t trying to be controversial; I genuinely believe that Harry and Ginny’s actions were believable and in-character with the way I’d written them. Harry was practically a basket-case at the start of this story, and Ginny’s seen things that will probably scar her for life; I tried to write their reactions to events in a very human, if not particularly romantic, way. As potterfan2008 said to me when we were discussing this; Harry telling Ginny that he’s very attracted to her and wants to have a real relationship is (for him) a declaration of love. It’s certainly the best he can manage at this point in his life.
Right, on to other matters. I said quite a while ago that someone guessed who the killer was. I deliberately didn’t say who that person was for the simple reason that I didn’t want everyone going back and looking at his reviews because he was asking the right questions right from the start. He actually got the killer right after the Squib Register was stolen, so he’s been sitting on that information for a while. Can I, therefore, ask you to give a round of applause to ProfessorBinns79! Greg, please accept a hatful of (virtual) gold stars for extreme cleverness.
Finally, I’m sure at the end of this chapter many of you will have lots of questions. I’ve deliberately not provided too much of the back story as I really wanted to leave a bit of mystery about the whole thing. However, if you do want to ask anything please feel free to contact, either by review or p.m. and I’ll do my best to fill in any gaps.
BTW, Roffey House, mentioned in this chapter was a real building, although I admit I enlarged it a bit. It’s featured (mainly towards the end) of Iron Maiden’s ‘Two minutes to midnight’ video if anyone is interested in seeing what an s***hole the east end of London used to be.
With the slightest of nods, Harry hurried past the Auror standing guard at the entrance to the basement of St Mungo’s.
He had to admit he felt an awful lot better for getting a solid eight hours’ sleep, and he was now keen to get on with the investigation. He had awoken to find Ginny had already left the house and he assumed he would find her here, continuing the search of the nameless killer’s hideout.
Entering the hidden chamber, Harry found a full team of Aurors busily searching the room for clues. He spotted Ginny rooting through a cupboard on the far side of the room, and she smiled warmly at him as soon as she noticed him enter. More surprisingly, Gawain Robards was also present and seemed to be co-ordinating the search.
“Morning, Harry,” Gawain greeted him. “Any word on Susan?”
“She’s going to be fine,” Harry assured his boss. “Her wounds weren’t life threatening and we stopped the poison before it did any lasting damage. The Healers say she should be on her feet in the next couple of days.”
“Excellent,” Gawain said, nodding approvingly. “Bones is too damn good an Auror to lose to something as stupid as a Muggle trap. The search team found several more traps, by the way. He’s a tricky bastard, this killer.”
“Have we found anything useful?” Harry asked.
“Quite a lot, actually,” Robards informed him. “Take a look at these.”
Robards led Harry over to a large bookcase which was filled with tomes of all shapes and sizes. Scanning the titles briefly, Harry could see a large number of what appeared to be Muggle medical texts. On one of the lower shelves, however, was a collection of large books bound in a rough, black material. Each of the books was marked with a pentagram and titled ‘Magik Moste Foul’, with volumes one to eight present. Harry crouched down to examine the books more closely.
“I’ve never heard of these books,” Harry commented.
“I’d be surprised if you had,” Robards said gruffly. “They’re complete fakes.”
“What?” Harry exclaimed.
“Yes, we’ve examined them and they are complete and utter Hippogriff shit,” Robards explained. “There isn’t a single proper spell or ritual in any of them. Not even close. As far as we can tell, they were written by someone as a hoax or a prank, admittedly a bloody nasty one.”
“But what are they doing here?” Harry demanded.
In answer, Gawain selected volume four of the books and pulled it out. He opened the book to a pre-selected point and then handed it to Harry. Scanning the page, Harry noted that it appeared to describe a ritual to increase a person’s magical power. He quickly read through the instructions for the ritual and froze when he reached step eight.
‘8. Once the incantation has been recited thirteen times, the liver of the sacrifice must be cast into the flames and reduced to ash completely. The incantation is then recited a further three times, before the heart is burnt in a similar manner. Take note: the flames must consume the heart and liver completely if success is to be achieved.’
“Sweet Merlin!” Harry gasped. “You don’t mean to tell me that four people have died because some idiot believed this shit was real?”
“I’m afraid that’s exactly what has happened,” Robards said grimly. “I doubt we’ll ever know where these books came from or who wrote them, but for whatever reason our nameless killer seems to believe they’re real. This reinforces our theory that the man is a Squib; he knows magic exists, but doesn’t know the difference between a real spell and this crap. The strange thing is that the items used for this fake ritual could actually be used for certain curses, which suggests the writer used a real spell as a starting point, before he threw in all this crap about incantations and pentagrams. It’s no wonder we all thought the killer was trying to perform a genuine ritual. ”
“So this is the killer’s ‘vital work’ which ‘cannot be disrupted’,” Harry spat. He felt genuinely sick that those women had died to fuel the fantasies of some deranged lunatic who believed he could obtain magical powers from some made-up book of spells. In anger, he threw the book roughly to the ground.
“Careful, Potter,” Robards chastised him gently. “Remember that’s evidence you’re throwing about.”
Contritely, Harry bent down to retrieve the fake spell book from the floor. As he did so, he noticed a lose piece of paper tucked into the space where the book had been on the shelf. He reached out and withdrew the paper from the space between the other books before examining it.
“What’s that you’ve found?” Robards demanded.
“It’s a Muggle electricity bill,” Harry explained, peering at the piece of paper intently.
“Does it have a name on it?” Robards asked.
“Yes, and even better than that, it’s got the bastard’s address on it,” Harry said triumphantly.
Robards’ grin was positively vicious.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Harry looked up at the ugly, run-down block of flats that went by the name of Roffey House. The ten storey building was situated on the Isle of Dogs in East London, and judging by the graffiti and faint smell of human urine, had seen better days. And living in flat number one hundred and sixteen was a man apparently called Trevor Keating, who could well be the nameless killer.
After finding the utility bill at St Mungo’s, Harry and his team had made some preliminary enquires about the man through their Muggle contacts. What they had found was interesting. There was very little information about the man, and what little there was all dated from the last four years. It was if Mr Keating had just appeared out of thin air at that time, and taken up residence in the flat. The only information they could find was from utility services: electricity, gas, TV licence. They could find no medical, tax or birth records for him at all. Suspicion that Keating was their man grew.
An Auror team had immediately started surveillance of the flat and they had confirmed that they had seen a man entering the flat that morning. Now, Harry decided, it was time to take Mr Keating into custody.
Harry and Ginny stood near the entrance of the block of flats dressed in casual Muggle clothing. A dozen Aurors were situated round the building, all hidden under Disillusion Charms. A back-up team would follow the two of them as they made their way up to the flat. Add they were operating in a Muggle neighbourhood, they had to be especially careful not to draw attention to themselves, hence the low-key approach.
The lift was out of order, so they climbed the stairs to the fifth floor. They paused at the end of the landing that flat one hundred and sixteen was situated on. Like many buildings in this area, the landing was open to the elements on one side and Harry could see across the city from his vantage point. The whole building was filthy and had a depressing feel.
“You ready?” Harry asked Ginny as they made their way past the neighbouring flats. Most of the doors were covered in spray-painted graffiti and several of them featured boarded-up windows. The place truly was a slum.
“Damn right,” Ginny growled. “Let’s get this bastard.”
They were about ten yards away from Keating’s flat when suddenly the door opened and a man stepped out. He was dressed in jeans and a blue hooded jacket. The man himself had brown hair and a plain face. He looked completely unremarkable and was the sort of person you could pass in the street without giving a second glance to.
The man closed the door of the flat behind him and paused to lock it. He then turned and noticed Harry and Ginny for the first time. He visibly tensed at the sight of them.
“Trevor Keating?” Harry challenged the man.
The man gave no response other than to turn and sprint in the opposite direction.
“Suspect on the run,” Ginny yelled into the enchanted pin on the lapel of her jacket that acted as a communications link between the Aurors. “He’s heading for the east-side stairwell!”
Harry had started sprinting after Keating the second the man had started moving, with Ginny just seconds behind him. Keating was fast, however, and reached the stairs long before Harry could get near him.
“The suspect is going up, I repeat, up,” Ginny shouted into her communicator as soon as she saw Harry charging up the staircase.
“Stop!” Harry shouted at the back of the fleeing man. “You’ve no hope of escape. Give it up!”
Keating made no reply, but continued to sprint up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Harry and Ginny dashed after him, but couldn’t close the distance.
“Where the hell is he going?” gasped Ginny as they reached yet another level. They were already on level nine and there didn’t seem to be anywhere to go.
Eventually, Keating reached the top level and barrelled through the door situated there. Harry and Ginny were right behind him, and they emerged on the flat roof of the block of flats. Apart from a large air conditioning unit, the roof was completely bare.
Keating ran to the edge of the roof and looked around him helplessly. By now, Harry and Ginny had pulled up behind him with their wands drawn. Keating turned to face them with his face expressionless.
“You’re under arrest, Keating, or whatever your real name is,” Harry said, slightly winded.
“You can’t,” Keating replied. “My work is too important. It can’t be interrupted.”
“What, that stupid ritual you’ve been performing in an effort to gain some magical power?” Harry scoffed. “It’s all rubbish, Keating. The ritual is a fake; it’s totally made up.”
“You’re lying,” Keating exclaimed, a little heat creeping into his voice.
“Don’t be stupid,” Harry snapped. “There’s no way to ‘give’ a person magic; you either have a sufficiently large magical core, or you don’t. Oh, there are rituals to temporarily boost a wizard’s power, but the power has to be there in the first place.”
“But the book...” Keating mumbled.
“Is a pile of griffin shit,” Ginny snapped. “Where the hell do you get that pile of crap?”
“From the library of a prominent pure-blood family,” the man replied distantly. He looked distracted and muttering almost to himself. “Why would they have such a thing?”
“One of the Ministry officials at the Department of Magical Artefacts said there was a trend in the mid-eighteen hundreds for pure-blood families to create joke grimoires to confuse Muggles. The spells and rituals generally involved some gruesome act or sacrifice. I bet getting Muggles to slit their arms open or sacrifice babies gave those pure-bloods a lot of laughs,” Harry explained bitterly.
“A joke,” Keating repeated. “How fitting. That just about sums up my life: one big joke.”
“Well, I’m not laughing,” Harry snarled, aiming his wand squarely at Keating’s head. “You killed a good friend of mine. No one forced you to kill those women; you did that just because you wanted to be powerful. You’re a sick bastard, Keating, and you’re going to rot in Azkaban.”
“You don’t know…” Keating began, but was halted by the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs behind them.
Harry steadfastly kept his wand trained on Keating, but Ginny turned to see who was joining them on the roof.
“We’ve got him, sir,” she announced as soon as she saw Gawain Robards and several other Aurors coming through the door.
Harry was looking directly at Keating when the man saw the other Aurors emerge onto the roof. His expression changed to one of total despair and hopelessness. A bitter smile came onto his lips. Then, without another word, he took a step back onto the ledge of the roof and fell like a stone.
With a gasp, Harry darted forward and peered over the low ledge. He saw Keating’s body falling rapidly.
“You’re not getting away that easily, you bastard,” he yelled and pointed his wand at the falling man. “Accio Keating!”
Unfortunately, the second the spell left Harry lips, he was unexpectedly hit hard from behind and for a second was fearful that he would topple over the ledge. A moment later, a hand grabbed his arm, steadying him. He looked over and saw Gawain Robards holding him firmly. Robards nodded at him, before looking down and casting his own spell.
“Accio Keating,” he yelled.
Unfortunately, Robards aim was slightly off and he didn’t manage to hit the falling man. Keating twitched in mid-air, seconds before slamming into the ground. Harry stared at the body in shock.
“Damn it!” Robards cursed. “I’m sorry, Harry. You would have got the bastard if I hadn’t fallen into you. I’m getting too old for bloody field operations.”
“That’s alright, sir,” Harry said sombrely, still looking at the broken body on the ground. “Maybe it was better this way.”
“Maybe it is,” Robards agreed, before struggling to his feet. “Come on, Potter. It’s all over.”
“Yes, sir,” Harry said, standing up. He glanced over at Ginny who gave him an encouraging smile. He tried to return her smile, but felt a bitter disappointment that Keating had evaded justice.
Two hours later, the Aurors had taken Keating’s body back to the Ministry and completed a thorough search of the man’s flat. The results were disappointing.
“Did you find anything?” Robards asked as Harry and the team returned to the Ministry. The Head Auror himself had returned with the body so he could start the paperwork.
“No, nothing,” Harry reported. “We tore the whole place apart and didn’t find a thing. The flat was one hundred percent Muggle. Keating must have kept all his magical possessions in the basement at St Mungo’s.”
“But how did this Keating gain access to the hospital in the first place?” Robards demanded.
“We think we’ve figured that out,” Harry said. “One of St Mungo’s caretakers has been missing for the last few days. The description of this man exactly matches Keating. The only thing is that the caretaker went by the name of John Merritt. We’ve checked and it looks like that name is an alias as well.”
“Merlin, how many false identities has this man got?” Robards demanded. “So, do we have any idea what his real name was?”
“No,” Harry responded. “We still have no idea who he really was or why he was so desperate to obtain magical powers. He just seems to have appeared from out of nowhere four years ago, obtained a Muggle Council flat under one name, a job at St Mungo’s under another, and adopted this ‘nameless man’ moniker when he committed his crimes.”
Robards nodded sadly. “Keep trying to trace him through our Muggle contacts, but don’t knock yourself out doing it,” he advised. “The important thing is that you and your team stopped him senselessly killing any other poor witch. You should be proud.”
“I’d be more proud if we’d stopped him earlier,” Harry said sadly.
“You did your best,” Robards assured him, “and to show my appreciation, I’ll set up a tab behind the bar at The Lantern tonight. Spread the world that everyone is welcome.”
“Thank you, sir,” Harry said, “I’ll pass it on.”
With a heavy heart, Harry turned and left Robards’ office. In truth, celebrating was the last thing he wanted to do. They had managed to stop the killer, but at too high a cost. Poor Sonia was dead and there was no news on when Howell would recover. There was a bitter taste to their victory. With his mood darkening, he made his way back to Ginny, the sole remaining member of the team.
Entering their temporary office, Harry was shocked to see Ginny in conversation with a young woman with strawberry-blond hair. As soon as he entered the room the woman looked up and broke into a bright smile.
“Susan!” Harry exclaimed. “Have they let you out of hospital already? How are you?”
Susan hurried over and caught Harry in a fierce embrace. “I’m fine, Harry,” she assured him, “and Ginny tells me you caught the bastard who injured me. Well done!”
“Not so much ‘caught’ as watched jump off a roof,” Harry corrected glumly.
“Whatever,” Susan dismissed. “The point is that the sick arsehole won’t be cutting up any more victims ever again.”
“Maybe, but is won’t bring back any of those girls, will it?” he persisted.
Susan sighed. “Don’t start beating yourself up about this, Harry. There was nothing more you could have done.” She turned to the redhead sitting at the desk. “Ginny, he’s lapsing into one of his guilt-fests again. You have my full permission as your Team Leader to smack him around until he snaps out of it. Either that or shag his brains out; whichever you think is the most effective.”
“Can’t I do both?” Ginny frowned.
“Of course,” Susan deadpanned. “Although if you combine the two he might start enjoying it too much. He always did have a kinky streak in him.”
“I think I preferred it when you two were arguing,” Harry moaned tragically.
“Hush, Harry,” Ginny admonished him. “We’re talking about you, not to you.”
“Well, I do have one bit of good news,” he said, ignoring the smirks on the faces of the two witches. “Robards is so pleased the case has finally been put to bed that he’s running a tab at The Lantern after work.”
“Fantastic! I think this is a cause for celebration,” Ginny chirped happily.
“Of course, I’m sure as you’ve just been released from hospital you shouldn’t be drinking alcohol, Susan,” Harry teased.
The frosty glare he received suggested he might be in error.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP
The hour was growing late and it would soon be time to head home.
Susan sat at a table in The Broken Lantern with a glass of her favourite raspberry vodka in her hand. Harry and Ginny sat opposite her with similar drinks. The table top was covered in empty bottles and glasses, testament to the diligent effort the three of them had put in trying to run up Robards bar bill to record levels.
“A toast,” Susan declared on the spur of the moment. “The Auror Department: we always get our man!”
“Absolutely,” Ginny giggled, draping herself over Harry’s shoulder.
Harry grinned a little foolishly at her. “Another toast,” he slurred slightly. “To beautiful women!”
“That shows he’s drunk,” Susan with a smile. “He’d never dream of saying anything like that sober.”
“S’true though,” Harry insisted, pouting slightly.
Ginny laughed. “I think it’s time for lover-boy here to get to bed. Who knows what slushy nonsense he’ll come up with otherwise?”
Harry scowled at her, but didn’t resist as she pulled him to his feet. They both drained the last of their drinks and prepared to go home. As Harry pulled on his jacket he looked over at Susan.
“You going to be okay, Susan?” he asked.
She looked at him intently for a second. “Yeah, Harry, I’m going to be okay,” she said quietly.
Harry returned her gaze for a moment, before smiling fondly at the witch. The hidden meaning in her words was clear.
“Good. See you tomorrow?”
“You bet. Night, you two,” Susan said.
“Good night, Susan,” Ginny replied warmly. She no longer felt threatened by Harry and Susan’s close relationship. She accepted the two of them would always be close, but knew they would never be more than friends. Besides, Harry had chosen her and that was not the sort of decision he would ever undertake lightly. It was still early days for their relationship, but she had a good feeling about it. Linking her arm with Harry’s, the two of them headed out into the night.
Across the crowded pub, Gawain Robards watched the couple leave. He thoroughly approved of Potter’s relationship with the young Weasley girl. Bones had been totally wrong for him, and had only ever fuelled his anxieties. With the right woman behind him, Gawain was certain Potter would go far. He silently drained his glass of blended Scottish whisky in tribute to the pair, before leaving the pub.
It was a clear night and he had no desire to return home just yet. He was too unsettled and had too many wild thoughts running through his head. Briefly, he looked skyward but the light pollution of London made it impossible to see any stars. Knowing he had one more place to visit that night, he turned on the spot and Apparated away.
He reappeared a second later in a quiet street many miles from London. Large, expensive-looking houses lined either side of the road, and the place had a leafy, well-to-do feel about it.
Robards walked along the pavement until he came to a house that differed significantly from its neighbours. The Victorian-style building was dark and showed definite signs of neglect. The small patch of garden at the front was overgrown and it looked as if no one had been near the place in years.
Pushing the rusted gate to one side, Robards made his way to the front door of the property. He breathed in the night air and caught the familiar scent of lavender from the bushes that grew either side of the door. In many ways that scent was the smell of his childhood.
Stealthily, he withdrew his wand and tapped the front door with it once. The door obediently swung open and he stepped into the dark house. Not wanting to draw attention to his visit, he refrained from turning on the main lights, instead relying on a Lumos Spell from his wand to provide illumination.
The house was in a better state then thought it would be. Here and there, wallpaper had started to peel away, but generally the place was habitable. Without really thinking about it, Gawain headed up the stairs and at paused on the main landing. Memories flowed over him stirring emotions he had suppressed for years. Squaring his shoulders, he turned and made his way to the back of the house. Halting before the bright blue door, he reached out with a trembling hand and turned the doorknob. The door swung open to reveal a child’s bedroom. Faded yellow and white stripped wallpaper hung on the walls and a chequered quilt was still spread out on an iron-framed bed. Various toys were littered around the room.
Gawain walked over to a gaily-pained rocking horse which held pride of place on the floor. He gently touched the horse’s neck and was surprised as it began to move back and forth in a simulated gallop. He would have thought that the enchantment on it would have faded by now.
He stood back and watched the wooden horse rocking backwards and forwards. In his mind he could clearly hear his younger brother laughing with joy as he rode upon it, often for hours at a time. He’d really loved that horse.
Of course, that was before. Before that fateful day that had shattered the family.
He felt tears come to his eyes as he remembered his little brother crying. In his mind’s eye he could still see his father, grim and implacable, dragging the small boy down the stairs. His mother was crying, begging his father to reconsider on her knees. But it was no use. His father was not the sort of man ever to change his mind. Damn him to hell.
Gawain brushed his eyes and walked round the room. He paused and examined a dressing table set in front of a lace-curtain decorated window. A few items still lay on the table: a faded story book, a brightly coloured spinning top, and a six-inch long piece of wood.
His brother’s wand. A wand the boy had never once been able to make produce the smallest piece of magic with.
A wave of nausea hit him as years of anger were rekindled. How had it come to this? Damn his father and damn his bloody pure-blood pride! God forbid that such a noble and ancient family should produce a Squib!
He took a deep breath. Shame replaced his anger and guilt at the part he had played in recent events. He hadn’t wanted anyone to be hurt, but family was everything, wasn’t it? All he had tried to do was keep the family name out of things; that’s why he’d stolen the Squib Register. But when Shehata had been killed, he knew he’d let things go too far. He’d been forced to act and plant that Muggle bill in the Ritual room. If only he’d known that the ritual had been a fake; for a while he’d genuinely hoped his brother could gain magical power.
It was all academic now. It was all over and obsessing over the events of the last few months would help no one. Robards turned and walked out of the bedroom, down the stairs and towards the front door. Before he left, he turned and raised his wand. He fired several Incendiary Spells in various directions. Before he’d even walked out the door, the house was burning fiercely and would be completely engulfed long before the Muggle Fire Brigade could be alerted.
Robards walked briskly down the street, ignoring the inferno raging in the house behind him. As soon as he was out of sight he Apparated back to his comfortable London home where his wife and children would no doubt be getting ready for bed.
He paused before opening the front door. In a few years he would be able to pass the reins of the Auror Department to Potter, safe in the knowledge that it would be in good hands. Until then he would carry on, doing what he could and above all looking after his family.
After all, family was everything, wasn’t it?