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Misanthropic | ||||||
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Category: Post-Hogwarts Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Other, Ron Weasley Genres: Drama, General Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 12 Summary: Attacks have struck the wizarding world, and a pregnant Ginny Potter is determined to figure out who is behind it, and why she feels like she is the target. But things are not all what they seem. A 2 part mini-mystery. Hitcount: Story Total: 6671; Chapter Total: 2155 Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay. Here is the conclusion. |
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A moment of stunned silence greeted Harry’s announcement. “The Wasp’s beater?” Ron asked, his voiced hushed. Harry nodded. Ginny shook her head. “That’s impossible. I know Wilbur, he’s very nice - if a little dim. He wouldn’t do something like this." Harry shrugged. “That’s what I thought too, but it seems like he was fooling us all.” “No,” Ginny continued. “I don’t understand. Why?" “I don’t know yet - we will question him tomorrow. Bresten picked him up for an interview today and he confessed." Ginny gaped at him. “He confessed?” she exclaimed. “How is that even possible? He was up by the press box with me when the explosion happened!” “I don’t know,” Harry admitted, “but I will find out tomorrow in interrogation. Thankfully, this is all over.” He slid James into his high chair and grabbed the plates to start setting the table. Ginny let the matter drop, but remained mysteriously quiet during dinner, choosing to listen to Ron and Harry bicker over which of them was better at Gobstones while they were still in Hogwarts. It wasn't until after dessert was finished and the boys disappeared to the attic to find an old Gobstones set that Ginny turned to Hermione with a request. "Hermione, something isn't right here," she began. Hermione nodded. "I know, we all know Harry is terrible at Gobstones, but you know how these two get sometimes..." "No, not them," Ginny interrupted. "Wilbur Swanning." Hermione eyed her critically before answering. "You aren't going to let this go, are you?" "No!" Ginny exclaimed, surprising herself with the strength of her conviction. "It just doesn't seem possible that Wilbur did it. I know Wilbur, we played together for a while on the England team. He wouldn't hurt anyone." "So tell Harry," Hermione said, reaching across the table for James, who was busy sticking his pudgy hands in gooey treacle. Ginny sighed. "The department won't listen to Harry, especially if it's just my word against Wilbur's confession. And I don't need Harry sticking his neck out for me, especially against Robards. And especially if he wants that promotion soon." Hermione took a napkin and started rubbing James's hands clean. "So what's left to do?" "Well," Ginny began, drawing out the word and wishing she was holding James - Hermione was less likely to attack that way, "I was thinking maybe you could sign up to be his counsel and we could talk to Wilbur ourselves." Hermione stopped rubbing James's hands clean and immediately received a smudge of treacle on her cheek. Ginny grimaced, but Hermione didn't even seem to notice. "But... Why.... What if...." Hermione' chain of words trailed off as she looked thoughtful. "You know that could work," she finally said with a nod, and resumed the task of cleaning James. "But won't Harry be mad that we are going behind his back?" Ginny shook her head. "No, he’ll understand. He just said today that we will have to be sneaky to figure this out." "Somehow I don't think he meant to include the two of us.” Ginny waved her concerns aside. “It doesn’t matter. Robards can get mad at us if he wants to, but he can’t get mad at Harry for this.” She realized that Hermione was about to comment and answered preemptively. “And to cover all tracks, we won’t tell Harry what we are doing. He can be just as surprised as everyone else tomorrow.” Hermione sighed and gave Ginny a calculating look. After a moment, she shrugged and turned most of her attention back to James. “Fine,” she said, “but you are taking the heat for this if Harry is angry.” Ginny nodded fervently. “Of course, but there won’t be a problem. So what do you need me to do?” “Hmm…” Hermione looked thoughtful. “I need to get to the Auror Office early tomorrow morning and make sure that I am listed as counsel before Harry gets there for interrogation. So just make sure that Harry does not leave the house before 7 o'clock.” Ginny nodded again. “Not before 7, got it.” “And you can come at 8 o'clock and talk to Wilbur with me.” Ginny grinned. “Wonderful! Thanks, Hermione,” she beamed, and Hermione just nodded in acknowledgement. Just then, Ron and Harry returned with the Gobstones set, and soon enough the newly cleaned James was covered in putrid liquid and having a wonderful time. The next morning, Hermione sat patiently outside the conference rooms of the Auror Office, balancing her wand on her swollen belly for entertainment and waiting for someone to arrive. At precisely 7:52, Harry walked through the doors, whistling a cheerful tune. Hermione wondered briefly what Ginny had done to make him so late for work, but quickly decided she would rather not know. “Hello, Hermione,” Harry said, giving her a small wave as he walked past. Suddenly he stopped, and backtracked to stand in front of her. “What are you doing here?” “Waiting for a counsel meeting,” Hermione answered, snatching her precariously tipped wand off of her stomach before it fell to the ground. Harry looked confused. “I thought you weren’t doing counsel anymore?” Hermione smiled. “I’m not, generally, but I was specifically asked to do this, and I do admit that I find it intriguing.” “Oh,” Harry said, nodding along. “Is it for Proudfoot’s case? Because you might want to talk to him first to make sure you know of all the evidence-” “No, Harry,” Hermione interrupted. “I’m here to speak with Wilbur Swanning.” Harry goggled at her. “Did Robards ask you to do that?” he asked, incredulous. “No, actually, she did,” Hermione answered, pointing behind Harry’s back. He spun around quickly in time to see Ginny approaching them at a rush. “I got here on time, didn’t I?” she asked, slightly breathless. “I didn’t have a lot of time to get James fed and off to Mum’s.” Hermione opened her mouth to reassure Ginny that she was just on time, but Harry beat her to the punch. “What are you doing here?” he asked, looking completely confused. Ginny took a deep breath. "You see, Hermione and I are going to talk to Wilbur to see why he would confess to a crime he did not commit, because he may tell me more than he would an Auror, and we didn't tell you because then you can have plausible deniability when Robards tries to get mad at you," she said in a rush, her words tripping over each other. Harry watched her intently, processing her words, and then frowned. "Okay, but when did Hermione sign up as counsel? I just told you all about it last night." "This morning at 7 o'clock, sharp," Hermione responded. Harry looked at her quickly before switching his gaze back to Ginny. With narrowed eyes he asked, "So this morning was not about the fact that you 'can't resist me in my uniform' but it was just a diversionary tactic?" Ginny grimaced. "Sorry, love," she apologized. Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Sexual subterfuge. What will you stoop to next?" Ginny grinned. "I'll make it up to you, Harry, I promise," she said, kissing him quickly on the cheek. "Just give us a few minutes with Wilbur, and then he will be all yours." “Fine,” Harry conceded. “But you’re taking the heat for this if Robards is angry,” he added, walking away from them. Ginny waved him off and turned to Hermione. “Ready?” she asked, and Hermione nodded, leading the way into the conference rooms where Wilbur was already waiting. Wilbur Swanning was sitting in a chair at the end of a long table, his wrists chained to the armrests. He looked despondent, his large form hunched over, head hanging and his fringe covering his eyes, but he did not look like the kind of person who killed others for no reason. Hermione sighed and took a step into the room. “Mr. Swanning, my name is Hermione Granger and I work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I will be working as your counsellor, and to give you advice before going into interrogation with the Aurors,” Hermione recited her pre-prepared speech quickly, and Wilbur did not pay much attention. Hermione took a seat at the table and gestured for Ginny to do the same. "This is my associate, Ginny Potter,” she added as an afterthought. At this, Wilbur’s head snapped up. “Ginny…” he muttered, looking at her closely. “I’m so sorry.” Ginny and Hermione exchanged a look before leaning forward. “Wilbur,” Ginny began, “what is going on?” Wilbur shook his head frantically. “I can’t… I didn’t… I’m glad you aren’t hurt,” he finally said. “But you have to be careful. There’s only so much I can do.” “But what does that mean, Wilbur? Why are you confessing to the explosion?” Ginny asked. “I had to, you would have done the same thing, I know it,” he said, pointing a finger at Ginny. “But —” Wilbur shook his head again. “I’m not going to tell you more, and I’m not going to tell the Aurors more. Just…” he hesitated, searching for the right thing to say. “Be careful.” Hermione and Ginny tried in vain for the next half hour to get more information out of Wilbur, but he remained stubbornly tight-lipped. The two witches left the conference room frustrated and even more confused than before. With no other leads to follow, Hermione returned to her office and Ginny made her way through the Auror Office to Harry’s cubicle. “Well that was useless,” she said, hopping up to sit on the corner of his desk again. “All he kept doing was apologizing and saying that I still need to be careful, but I still have no idea why he would have -” “You were right,” Harry interrupted her. Ginny looked at him, confused, and he repeated his statement. “You were right.” He handed her the piece of parchment he had been reading. Harry Potter - My darling, your Aurors are barking up the wrong broomstick. It is best for them to give up now. Once your wife and children are out of the way, we will have our chance. Love always. After a long period of silence, Ginny let out a hollow laugh. “You know, I wasn’t expecting that,” she said. She looked back at the letter and then turned to Harry. “So this is all to target me, from someone who is in love with you?” Harry sighed, and wearily rubbed his hands over his face. “Looks like it,” he answered. “Whoever this woman is -” “Or man,” Ginny interrupted, “remember that time -” “Fine,” Harry conceded, blushing slightly. “Whoever this person is, they are delusional, and obviously very dangerous. But if Wilbur is confessing to the crimes, he knows more about this than we do. Maybe I can get some information out of him.” He rose from his seat and gathered all of his paperwork. Ginny stood as well. “And I will go and see if his team knows anything.” Harry shook his head sharply. “No, Ginny, you are in danger. You shouldn’t be going around questioning people about this. If something happens to you or the baby…” He trailed off as they both looked at each other in shock. “The baby!” Ginny exclaimed, one hand flying to cradle her stomach and the other pointing at the letter. Aurors at neighboring cubicles turned to look at the commotion, and she dropped her voice to a whisper. “How did they know to say ‘children’?” Harry continued to stare at her in shock. “You don’t think this person knows about the baby?” he asked, his eyes wide. “Why else would they say that?” Ginny countered. “Very few people know that I am pregnant, Harry.” Harry caught on to the edge in her voice, and quickly moved to her side. “It wouldn’t be anyone we told,” Harry said, certain, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “None of our friends could be behind this.” Ginny shook her head. “No, I trust them all,” she agreed. “But the only other person how knows is my healer, and I trust her too.” Suddenly she gasped. “But anyone else at St. Mungo’s could have seen me - or could have access to the files - and figured it out." Harry regarded her carefully for a moment, and then nodded. “I’ll start looking into all employees at St. Mungo’s and cross referencing them with the crimes and with Swanning. You should -” “Don’t tell me to go home, Harry,” Ginny interrupted, angry. “This case now officially includes me, and you are not going to stop me from getting involved.” Harry smiled slightly. “Since when can I stop you from getting involved?” he asked, gesturing to their surroundings. “You came today, didn’t you?” Ginny grinned sheepishly. “If you want to go talk to the Wasps, go ahead, and see what you can get from them as a fellow player, not as an Auror.” Ginny nodded in agreement. “But check in with me before you do anything else,” he concluded. “Please,” he implored, seeing the look on Ginny’s face. She smiled at him and nodded again. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to get myself in any trouble at the Wasp’s stadium. I’ll see you later.” Visiting the Wasps was proving to be a completely fruitless endeavor, and Ginny sighed heavily. She was sitting on the first tier of bleachers listening to Gustav Abalone, the other beater, describe the time he and Wilbur first met. None of the team members had any idea why Wilbur would have committed such heinous crimes, or while he would have taken the blame for them if he had not done them. Ginny was trying to think of what excuse would be the best to use to leave when Gustav said something that caught her attention. “Of course at that time, his sister was just out of school, and she would come to every game, but -” Ginny sat up straight. “Wilbur has a sister?” she asked, surprised. No one had mentioned any relatives that morning at the Auror Office, and she was not sure that Harry knew that Wilbur had any siblings. Gustav nodded. “A half-sister, yes,” he answered. “Maeve Sykes. She is much younger than him. Wilbur’s mother re-married after his father’s death, and Maeve was born while Wilbur was already in Hogwarts.” “Do you know where I can find her?” Ginny stood on the pavement of a street filled with drab looking terraced houses and considered her choices. She had promised Harry that she would return to the Auror Office without any side trips, but this was too intriguing to pass up. Besides, Ginny reasoned, she was more than capable of defending herself if it came to that. Consulting the address that the kind old warlock who worked in the Wasp’s records department had written down as Wilbur’s emergency contact, Ginny checked to make sure that she was approaching the correct door. Her knock on the door labeled ‘17' echoed down the empty street, and Ginny shivered slightly in the brisk air. After a few moments, the door opened wide and a small woman stood before her. “Can I help you?” she asked brusquely. Ginny observed her carefully, trying to place the feeling that she had seen her before. Chalking it up to the woman’s slight resemblance to Wilbur, she shrugged. “Are you Maeve Sykes?” At the woman’s curt nod, Ginny continued. “My name is Ginny Potter,” she said slowly, emphasizing her last name slightly to see the woman’s reaction. There was none. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about your brother.” Maeve raised an eyebrow skeptically, but stepped back and gestured inside. Ginny followed her down the narrow corridor and into the cramped and dingy kitchen. Maeve gestured to a chair at the table and turned away from Ginny to put a kettle on the stovetop. Ginny peered around curiously, looking for any hints into the woman’s lifestyle. The first thing that she had noticed was the lack of any Wasp’s memorabilia: you could not step foot into any Weasley home without being assaulted by some memento of Ginny’s time with the Harpies or the England National Team. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that there was also no evidence of all of the items her hyperactive imagination had conjured up: a defaced Ginny Weasley action figure with pins sticking out and a wall shrine to Harry, filled with newspaper clippings and candid photographs. Instead, there was a small pile of Sorcerer’s Digest magazines on the table and a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. A small tank sat on a corner table, with a fat toad perched on a rock. What looked like a dried out mimbulus mimbletonia sat in a pot on the windowsill, which revealed an unfortunate view of the back of another terraced house. Maeve herself was a rather unremarkable woman. She was shorter than Ginny, with pale brown hair and watery eyes. She had no distinguishing features, nothing that would help distinguish her in a crowd. She was certainly older than Ginny, probably by at least five years, but she had the appearance of a woman who was much older. She returned from the stove carrying two chipped teacups and a plate full of biscuits, which Ginny politely declined. When it seemed obvious that Maeve was not about to start conversation, Ginny smiled. “So, I was just over at the Wasp’s stadium taking to Gustav, and he mentioned you. Said it has been a while since he saw you.” Maeve shrugged. “I keep busy,” she said simply, taking a sip of tea. Ginny laughed shakily. “Don’t we all.” Sensing that Maeve was not one for conversation, Ginny raised her teacup to her lips, but paused before taking a sip. She locked eyes with the toad in the tank, who suddenly bore a rather unfortunate resemblance to Dolores Umbridge. With a jolt, Ginny put the teacup back on the saucer. “So are you and Wilbur close?” Ginny asked, desperate to get some information and leave. Maeve just shrugged again. “I suppose. We talk frequently, just talked yesterday as a matter of fact.” She looked at Ginny sideways. “Why? Did something happen to him?” she asked, without any trace of emotion. Ginny’s mind raced, trying to decide what to say. The news had not yet broken about Wilbur’s confession, and either Maeve really did not know that he turned himself in, or she was pretending not to. She suddenly regretted not telling Harry that she was coming to this house. “Oh, I was just curious,” Ginny said causally, toying with the handle of her teacup. “Wilbur and I played together on the England team before his injury, and I never saw you around at that time.” “I was in training then,” Maeve responded, draining her teacup and standing to fill it again. “Where do you work?” Ginny asked. Maeve turned around slowly, and Ginny unconsciously copied the movement of her arm. “In hospital,” she said briefly, before Ginny’s teacup exploded. Thanks to her instinct, Ginny’s wand was in her hand a fraction of a second before Maeve’s was, and her shield charm was up just in time to protect her from the shards of porcelain and scalding hot tea. With a flick of her wrist, she sent a silent Stunning Spell at Maeve, who sidestepped it and cast a Blasting Curse on the wall behind Ginny. Ducking underneath the table to avoid the falling sheet wall, Ginny marveled at Maeve’s willingness to destroy her own home. Maeve began to round the table to come from behind, so Ginny stuck her wand out and cast a Trip Jinx, causing the other woman to stumble and fall to the ground. Leaping up from behind the table, Ginny quickly disarmed her opponent before she had a chance to react, and had her immobilized and bound in a few seconds. Just as she finished securing the bonds, the kitchen door swung open and Harry stood in the doorway, his wand raised and a team of Aurors behind him. Ginny smiled from her position in the destroyed kitchen, surrounded by Maeve’s immobile body and large chunks of wall. “What took you so long?” she asked cheekily. The other Aurors immediately went to Maeve, but Harry approached Ginny, looking slightly shocked. “I was going to tell you I was coming here, but then I just sort of came instead. Sorry, love,” Ginny prefaced before Harry had a chance to speak. She draped her arms around his neck when he reached her. “You aren’t mad, are you?” she asked. Harry laughed. “What, that you are more competent than an office full of trained Aurors?” He shook his head. “No, but I guess that means you get the glory now.” Ginny giggled. “What do you think the headlines will say?” She waved her hand in the air as she outlined each word, “‘Expectant Mother, and Investigative Reporter, Ginny Potter Saves the World — and Hapless Husband.’” Harry considered it. “Catchy, although maybe a little too wordy,” he critiqued. “And I’m not sure what you saved me from.” Ginny scoffed. “Clearly from a life with your true love Maeve,” she said, gesturing to the woman still on the ground behind her, “Who knows that the way to your heart is by murdering your wife and children.” "Overall, a misguided and poor-intentioned gesture,” Harry agreed. “So, do you think I’m up for that promotion yet?” Ginny pretended to consider it. “Deputy Head Auror Potter?” she asked, tapping one finger against her chin. “Honestly, I think I deserve it more.” |
| Reviews 12 |
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