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On the Woodway | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-DH/PM Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Other, Ron Weasley Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations, Mental Abuse, Sexual Situations, Violence, Violence/Physical Abuse Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 44 Summary: A gruesome murder at Hogwarts disturbs the peaceful summer, and Head Auror Harry Potter struggles with the dark secret he carries with him. Kingsley Shacklebolt's Ministry hangs by a thread as old foes once again seek to reclaim power. Ancient and eternal forces are changing the world once more, and Harry is caught in the midst of the storm. Hitcount: Story Total: 227438; Chapter Total: 16036 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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Harry actually had a restful sleep that night, and he Flooed into work the next day feeling well rested. After he'd sorted out his inbox he quickly headed to the DMLE for his weekly meeting with Amelia. They normally had it on Monday mornings, but with Ollivander's murder two days before, they had rescheduled it for today. "Sit down, Harry," the stern witch said. He sank into the leather chair across her, with her neatly-sorted desk separating them. "What a week it's been, hasn't it?" she finally asked. "Two murder cases, one shocked the country, and the other one would have as well, had our Minister not kept it secret." She shook her head. "I'm getting too old for this." That was usually the sign for her to start trying to convince Harry that he should take over her job. "I'm sorry, Amelia, but I can't quit my job now. Not with these murders still unsolved." "Of course, and I wouldn't ask you to." She then looked at him shrewdly. "You didn't outright deny me this time, though." Harry scratched his neck and looked around her tidy, marble office. "I've talked to Ron about it and he made me see it in a different light. I hadn't considered that I could take over for just a short while and then go back to the Aurors after a few years." "Yes, you've always been a man of action," she said. "These are important times, Harry. You and the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix have guided this institution through the years after the War, and you've done more work than I could have ever thought was possible. Laws have changed, offices and departments have been restructured, and I think we've finally come to a point where people can once again be proud to work at this Ministry. But the change wasn't the hardest part. That part comes now, Harry." "Castlereagh's manifesto," he said, guessing where she was leading the conversation. "Let me tell you a story about my niece, back when she was still a girl," Amelia said, still looking at him directly. Her wrinkles and grey hair hadn't reduced the sheer force of determination behind her eyes one bit. "She didn't have a good youth. Orphaned as a baby, and forced to grow up with me as her guardian. I have been called many things, but having a warm personality is not one of them." Harry swallowed a sarcastic reply. Humour had never been her strong suit either. "She was a volatile girl. She did poorly on tests and regularly missed deadlines. And from time to time, she'd wake up one day and decide that she was going to become a new person. How often have I seen such moods from her when she was with me during her summer holidays. She'd eat a quick breakfast, clean her room, sort out her school books and papers, go outside and train, meet up with friends, and when I called her in for dinner, she would be brimming with energy and determination." She paused, allowing the raising excitement in her voice to ebb away again. "She would keep at it for a week, at most. Then she'd be back to waking up past noon and postponing her homework to the last minute." "She always did well on the final exams, though," he said. "That's because she's a Bones," she said, straightening her back with pride. "But it's no different here, Harry. This Ministry has had a makeover and some laws have changed. Now it's a matter of making these changes permanent. If you don't, your work will have been for nothing, and by the time you retire, this institution will be back to where it was during Voldemort's time. You know the Wizengamot and its conservative allies are still strong and wealthy enough to make that happen." "I know. And that's why I'm considering taking over your job after you've retired." "It would be the right thing to do," she said. "I've lost almost my entire family to the racism and blood purity that reigned here, and so did you. You're the only person I can trust with this seat. I may not agree with some of the more underhanded tactics you and Kingsley use, but I know your heart is in the right place." "Thank you," he said, hoping the sincerity behind his words had come across. She allowed him a small nod. "Speaking of underhanded tactics, the Minister and I have had a meeting to discuss the murder cases." "How'd it go?" "You know how he and I get along," she said shortly. Harry grinned. Kingsley's strong sense of righteousness sometimes clashed directly with Amelia's insistence on upholding the law. When that did happen, it always came down to a battle of willpower, one that Kingsley and his Gryffindor heart usually won. "Kingsley insists that they need to be solved as soon as possible. The longer this continues, the more bolstered Castlereagh and his allies will become. And if words spreads about the murder at Hogwarts…" She didn't need to finish that sentence. They both knew that he and Kingsley would be hung out to dry if it did. "We're doing the best we can," Harry said. "But the killer is smart and knows how to hide all traces. We might have a lead from the word of a goblin, though. He apparently saw a hooded man head into one of the shops across Ollivander's, and that clashes with the testimonies the shopkeepers have given us." "Yes, I've heard. Your ex-girlfriend, Julie le Clé, is to be one of the interrogated shopkeepers, is she not?" "Oh. Proudfoot hasn't told me that yet," Harry said, as a heavy feeling sunk into his stomach. "I think those are scheduled for today, though." "Try to keep this case by the book," she said. "I trust you to do the right thing, but the consequences of a mistake are far too great for you to risk it." "I'll try, Amelia. Thanks for your time, and I'll see you next week." He didn't miss her displeased look at his half-hearted promise, and he left her office quickly. On his way back to the Auror office he ran into Claire Johnson, who was on her way to the coffee bar. "Morning, Johnson," he said pleasantly. She jumped at the sound of his voice. "Morning," she said demurely. "I was just getting… coffee." "I think I'll have one as well. I'll come with you, if you don't mind." "Not at all," she said, though her body language told him exactly the opposite. "So how are you holding up during these busy times? You haven't been tested like this since you started as an Auror." "Fine, I guess." "The attention from reporters and other people not bothering you?" As always with a big case, the corridor outside their office was regularly occupied by reporters, seeking to hear the latest developments. "No, they've never really approached me." They reached the coffee bar by now, and they joined the queue of people dressed in the oddest of clothes. The man in front of him wore normal Muggle clothes, which would've been fine, were it not for the fact that the entire outfit was on the wrong way around. Harry was glad, in a sort of fond, nostalgic way, that this was one thing that never seemed to change in the Wizarding world. "And how's Hammond treating you?" he asked, desperate to keep their conversation going. However awkward it was, the inevitable silence if they stopped talking would certainly be worse. "She can be the worst gossip sometimes, I hope that hasn't been bothering you." "Oh, it's alright," she replied, smiling for the first time since he informed her she was accepted into the Auror office. "She's sort of found a perfect match in me with that." He chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind, then." An idea struck him as they ordered their coffee. "By the way, from time to time we have a night at the local pub with some of the Aurors. I dunno if you've been to one of them already?" She shook her head. "Would you like to come, too? Hammond's often there as well." "Of course!" she said. "Great! I'll tell you when the next one is. It might take a while still — you know what it's like with those plans." "Oh yeah, I'm still planning a reunion with some of my old classmates from Hogwarts," she said. "For how long already?" "At least a year," she said, the corners of her mouth twitching. "Well, there you go," he said as they reached the office. "I'll catch you later." She gave him a brief smile in response and hurried back to her desk. Harry watched her leave for a moment, feeling like he had finally achieved his first breakthrough in making her feel more at home in the office. Hopefully, she would be back to her old, vivid self soon. He then saw Proudfoot make his way towards him. "Got a minute, Potter?" "Sure, what is it?" "Got the interviews with the shopkeepers done. The transcripts are on my desk. D'you want to go through them?" "Good idea." He followed the veteran Auror to his desk, which sat in the furthest corner from from the entrance. Proudfoot was a kind person, but he had always been crystal clear about his need for privacy and solitude. That his corner was assigned as a permanent temporary storage area didn't bother the man. Harry grabbed a pallet, briefly wondering how on earth it got there, and transfigured it into a chair. "So," Proudfoot said as they sat down. "We've managed to interview most of the shopkeepers. Most of 'em weren't too happy to be interrogated twice in such a short time, but they generally understood the need for it. Ollivander was well respected among them." "Anything that stood out?" Harry asked, leafing through the stack of parchment. "Couple things. Madame Malkin is quite ill, and told us that she fears her time in her shop is coming to an end. Her son is fifteen years old and still at Hogwarts. Seeing as his hobbies include Quidditch, brooms and dragons, she doesn't think he's particularly suited to take over the business." "Shame, that. Still, plenty of other people who'd be quite willing to step in her place," Harry said, thinking of his old classmates Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. "But let's stay focused." "Right. Couple other things. First of all: the owner of the jewellery shop across from Magical Menagerie is a right bastard." "Didn't like being interviewed?" "Didn't like Ghezzal entering his shop. Got really angry until we reminded him who we were." "Getting angry at Aurors." Harry shook his head. "Not the smartest type, then?" "No, I just think his toes are too long for his own good. By the time he'd calmed down and we started asking him questions, he was back to normal. Although his temper flared up quite a lot when we asked him if he'd seen a hooded man. I've written it all down, if you want some light reading." "Thanks." "We noted his name. Might want to keep a close eye on him." "Yeah, probably a good idea. What else?" "Erm," he scratched his stubbly chin. "Ghezzal needs to lay off the burgers." Harry stared at his colleague until he sighed and relented. "Okay," he said. "Your ex apparently works at the second hand bookstore now." "Julie? Yeah, Amelia told me. She owns that small store across Ollivander's now?" "Yeah, she does. We talked to her, but she wasn't very forthcoming in telling us what she was up to." He sighed. "Sorry, boss, but she's quite suspicious, if you ask me. I don't know how you two broke up…" "I caught her cheating on me," Harry replied shortly. "Ah. No leftover feelings, then?" Harry ran his hand through his hair. "No, not really. It wasn't going well between us anyway. Seeing her with that Hit Wizard just sealed the deal." "A Hit Wizard?" "Yes. And you won't mention this to anyone, won't you?" Harry asked in a tone that suggested it wasn't really a question. Proudfoot shrugged. "Anything else notable?" "No, nothing more. It's just these two that stood out." The pair of Aurors let that sink in for a moment in the quiet corner of the room. "This is not good," Harry said. "We could bring them in for interrogation, but we'd have to file a request for Veritaserum first, and that takes ages to brew." "It's not even foolproof." "I know, but we can't do much else, can we?" "Well, Hammond is working on finding Ollivander's relatives. Maybe she's got something." "Right. I'll ask her, then. Could you file that Veritaserum request in the meantime?" "Sure. Where can I find the form?" "It's in the bottom left drawer I think. Or maybe somewhere in the middle, I'm not too sure." Proudfoot shook his head. "I'm sorry, boss, but that reorganisation a couple months back was total wank." "I'm starting to agree," Harry said, scratching behind his ear. "The cabinet's not that big, though, you'll find it eventually." "I'll revert that Anti-Summoning Charm one day," Proudfoot announced, standing up. "You're welcome to try," Harry said, grinning at the departing Auror. He stood up, reverted the chair's Transfiguration and placed the pallet back among the cluttered mess, and went over to Hammond's desk. Sadly, it turned out that Ollivander was a total recluse. Perhaps it was a side effect of being the oldest man in Britain, but whatever the reason, it would be very hard, if not impossible, to find out whether the wandmaker had had a feud with someone that would have lead to the murder. They would have to wait for the Veritaserum and the coroner's report now, and there wasn't much else they could do in the meantime. Contemplating this latest roadblock, Harry asked one of the passing Aurors for another cup of coffee and retreated to his office to think about what to do next. He supposed he could return to the house-elf case for now, but he knew he wouldn't be able to focus on it. Ollivander's murder was too omnipresent in his thoughts. He couldn't shake the way the old wandmaker's fingers had been broken in seemingly random directions, nor could he forget the moment Vera held up the broken wand for him to see. He knew, just as certain as he had known that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater, that it had something to do with the Elder Wand. But ideas eluded him. That's new, he thought, as he grabbed the Azkaban patrol calendar again. His request to change his patrol time was granted. His round was originally scheduled for next Monday afternoon, but he was already going shopping with Teddy then. To his dismay, his patrol duty had merely been postponed by a few hours. Day patrols were horrible enough already, but night-time shifts literally took away the last gleams of light from the gruelling guard duty. Even though the Dementors had long been banished from the island, it was still a dreadful place. The sun never shone, and the walls had had enough curses and enchantments placed on them to last an eternity. Kingsley had proposed a new prison on the mainland as part of a plan to humanize the justice system, but he had been forced to rescind that idea before it could come to fruition. Incarceration was a loaded topic in the Wizarding world, especially after the mass arrests following the fall of Voldemort. It had been hard enough to convince the Wizengamot to banish the Dementors. That voting process had been the first time Harry had approved of bribes. Thoughts of Azkaban hung over him like a dark cloud the rest of the week, as there were no new developments to keep his mind occupied elsewhere. The Ministry was out of fresh Veritaserum, so the Aurors had to wait for a new batch before they could begin the interrogations. It would take a full lunar phase before the potion was ready, to Harry's immense frustration. And to make matters worse, Robert the coroner came down with a flu. The case had come to a dead end. But at least they had the prospect of a breakthrough, and that was more than could be said about the house-elf case. Ollivander's murder case slowly stopped being a daily front page matter, but tensions didn't abate. Lord Castlereagh had cleverly used the void in shock-worthy news to fill the Daily Prophet with personal interviews, as well as inviting his associates and other well-known members of society to a banquet. It was clear now that the man was aiming to challenge Kingsley's reign. Whether or not he would be successful was uncertain, but the public seemed to agree on one thing: Kingsley wasn't untouchable anymore. As for Harry himself, his nightmares mercifully became less frequent. He dreamt of Remus and the forest one more time that week, on Friday night, but the nightmare seemed to have lost some of its edge. The dark and foggy woods became more familiar now, and the figure chasing him still couldn't harm him. Remus had transformed as well. He no longer looked like an Inferius just risen from the grave, and instead had turned into the man Harry remembered: tall and handsome, with a friendly and compassionate air despite his scarred and shabby look. He also didn't crawl anymore, but had the strength in him again to stand on his own feet as he and Harry approached each other. Yet still the man didn't say a word, and Harry woke up as soon as they met. Still, Ginny had commented on his good mood the next morning, which had been a welcome surprise. Practice sessions with the Elder Wand had come to a halt. There was no progress whatsoever, and he was still stuck in the frustrating position of feeling the presence of the wand, but being unable to do anything with it. At one point he accidentally overpowered a spell out of frustration, sending a rocking horse spinning wildly through the attic. That was when he knew he needed to stop. He wasn't happy with it, but on the upside of things, it left him enough time to catch up on other things he'd been putting off. He actually went jogging on Saturday. The next Monday, he went to the Ministry for a few hours to speak briefly with Amelia and sort out a few documents. He was halfway through a report on the Auror academy when it was time for lunch. He ate a quick sandwich with Ron and Hermione in the canteen, where they spent most of the time discussing their plans to move out of London to somewhere more spacious for the baby. He begged off more quickly than he normally would have, and Apparated to Pembrokeshire to retrieve Teddy. They drank a cup of tea with Andy, and then left quickly after saying goodbye to her ("You are not buying Teddy a new broom! His Nimbus 3000 is still good enough!"), Flooing into the Leaky Cauldron. "Alright," he said to his godson, putting an arm around his small shoulder. "First stop is Gringotts, and I suggest we do a stop at Leopold Fortescue's after that to take a look at what you need to buy." "Sure!" Teddy said a tad too loudly. He had a glint in his eye and his hair was sandy blond. Harry chuckled at his enthusiasm. They crossed the shopping alley side by side, Harry marvelling at the magical scenes just as much as his godson as they walked past brimmed store fronts, stacks of books that couldn't realistically remain upright, street vendors selling things like caramelized apple pretzels and Spiralling Slushies, and the collection of owls and bats in front of the Magical Menagerie. Even though it was the time of year for school shopping trips, the Monday afternoon guaranteed them reasonably empty streets, and before they knew it, they were in front of Gringotts. After a glare from a goblin, a muttered "follow me," and an underground roller coaster ride that Harry enjoyed considerably more than Teddy, they found themselves in front of his godson's vault. It had been set up by Harry and Andy, though the majority of the money came from Harry. He made sure Teddy didn't withdraw an absurd amount of galleons, and after a short stop at Harry's own vault, they went above ground again. "So, what does your list look like?" he asked Teddy. They were seated at one of the tables in front of the ice cream parlour. Previously it was called Florean Fortescue's, but now it was named after the man's grandson, Leopold, after Florean had disappeared during the war. The quality of the ice cream had dipped a bit, but that wasn't saying much, considering how unforgettable Florean's work had been. Still, Leopold's ice cream brought all the kids to the parlour, parents alike, and Harry couldn't deny the good feeling of eating a chocolate fudge cornicle with his godson on a mid-summer afternoon. "Well, it's all standard stuff, really," Teddy said, his lips surrounded with a dark brown sheen. "For books, I need The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3; Intermediate Transfiguration; The Rochester Bestiary —" "Not The Monster Book of Monsters?" "What's that?" "Hagrid's idea of a good book," Harry said, grinning. "I'll show it to you, the charm still hasn't worn off." "Cool! I also need Spellman's Syllabary, and The Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts. Oh, we've got two books for Defence this year, and it also says we need 1798 Protective and Exceedingly Useful Hexes and Spells." "Really?" Harry asked, looking up in surprise. "Yeah. I also need a new cauldron, cause my old one's too rusted." "Alright," Harry said, still mulling over the school's decision to include such a practical book. He couldn't fault Professor McGonagall for it, and it didn't endanger the secrecy of the house-elf case. But it was clear that the Hogwarts professors had made work of the extra preparations following the murder. He put the matter aside for now. This afternoon was for his godson and him. "You'll also need some new robes, though," he said. "Ugh, really?" "Yes, really. How much have you grown since last year?" "Just over four inches," Teddy admitted. "Exactly. You need robes and clothes that fit you, and I don't trust Andy to pick them out with you, so that's why you and I are buying those today." "Why don't you trust her?" "I had a bad experience when we first got to know each other," Harry said darkly. "Really? But—" "Look, do you want to look like a clown or not?" "Of course not!" "Good! Then we'll go to Madame Malkin's after we're done buying your regular things." Teddy relented with a face that made it clear that he most certainly didn't agree with Harry's decision, and they set off after finishing their ice cream. Diagon Alley, he concluded, looked perfectly normal, save for one store: Ollivander's. Through the drawn blinds he could see that it was completely dark inside. For some unknown reason, the goblins were reluctant to release the old man's will, and thus the fate of the store was still unknown. The empty store remained a niggling thing at the back of his mind as he and Teddy worked through the school list. Every time they exited a store, his eyes were drawn to it, as if the storefront were a black hole in the otherwise ordinary shopping district. As they exited the cauldron shop, he heard someone call his name. He looked at his side to see an older woman, barely up to his chest, looking up at him inquisitively. "Mr Potter?" He put his hand on Teddy's shoulder to prevent him from wandering off. "Yes?" "Mr Potter, I read the awful news about poor Ollivander last week," she began eagerly, "and I was terribly worried, so I wanted to ask you if you're any closer to catching whoever did this?" Harry smiled at her through his annoyance. "Well, Ms…" "Oh, Moritz, sir. Christa Moritz. So good to finally make your acquaintance!" "Likewise," he lied. Teddy pulled on his sleeve as other people started to gather around their conversation. "Well, we're all working night and day to solve this crime, and we're genuinely on the right path to catch the criminal. I'm hopeful that they will be behind bars before you know it." "Are you sure?" a man in the rapidly-growing audience called. "The only thing you've given us is to look out for "a hooded man"! I wear a hood too when it gets a bit chilly, d'you want me to look out for myself as well, then?" "Look," Harry said, forgoing his veneer of politeness. "I'm here with my godson, we're just doing some shopping. Can't you leave us alone for one second so we can buy school books in peace? Thank you." And with that, he began pushing through the mass, tightly gripping Teddy's hand as he dragged him along. Some people left, but others grew more insistent in their questioning, despite Harry's pleas. "Is Minister Shacklebolt going to step down?" "Are my kids still safe to do their shopping?" Those questions were accompanied with some shouted accusations about the Aurors being useless. When Teddy started shouting his name in panic, the mood turned more frantic, and he pulled his wand from his pocket, ready to defend the boy. "What is all this ruckus in front of my store?" a magically-enhanced voice called from the entrance to one of the nearby shops. "I'm losing customers because of this chaos you're causing, so please leave! All of you! Or I'll make all of you eat slugs!" Everyone froze, and then, one by one, people scurried away. With some more threats from the shop owner that involved slugs and various orifices, the stragglers walked away as well, leaving Harry, Teddy, and the shopkeeper in their wake. "That was getting out of hand," Harry said, glancing down the street. "Thank you for your help, erm…" He looked back to see who saved them. It was Julie le Clé, French-born bookstore keeper, former model, and his ex-girlfriend. Her brown hair was short now, and she wore a simple blue outfit that rather suited her thin, tall frame. "No problem," she said politely, no reaction to his presence visible in her golden-brown eyes. "Come on in for a moment, you two look like you need to sit down." Harry wanted to protest, but a glance at his bewildered and frazzled godson convinced him that she was right. Before he knew it he was inside the store, sitting on a couch with Teddy, with a mug of tea and a couple of biscuits in front of them. "Thank you for the tea," Teddy said politely. Harry murmured his gratitude as well, still staring perplexedly at his mug. "That detective work doesn't get easier, does it?" she asked conversationally as she sorted through some worn books behind her counter. "You'd know all about detectives, wouldn't you?" he asked quietly. He saw her wince and pause whatever she was working on for a moment. "It doesn't surprise me you were caught in that crowd just now," she then said, with no change in her tone. "Diagon Alley has been in a strange mood the past week. People are scared." Harry hummed noncommittally. He was not about to share any information about the case with just anyone, certainly not a person who was currently noted as "suspect" in their archives. And who had cheated on her partner. He took a biscuit and nibbled on it, just to have something to do as the silence reigned on. "Not a busy place, this," he eventually said. No customers had entered the shop since they were ushered inside. "No," Julie said. She sighed. "I'll manage, though. This work is good for me. Gives me time to think." "I see." "It would be nice if people stopped stealing books, though." "Oh?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. "Did they steal anything specific?" She regarded him questioningly. "Yes, actually. I used to have a large section on wand-lore, but it's all gone. They've also taken my best copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard." "Hmm." He was careful not to show any outward reaction, but he made a mental note to share this with the other Aurors when he got back to work. "Did you report it?" "Yes, I did." "Good." He took a sip of his tea. That faint spark of a failed love, combined with intense lingering anger over that day he found her with another man, confused him beyond words. So he did what he thought was best here: remain silent. "D'you like reading?" Julie asked Teddy, who had been leafing through the odd book. "Not much," he replied, closing the book again and grabbing his mug with both hands. "Oh, you can read if you want to, it's okay. Feel free to look around. It's all second-hand anyway." "How long have you been working here?" Harry interjected. Her talking to his godson irked him. "Not long," she said, taking the stack of books from the counter and placing them on the shelf behind her. "I bought this shop from the antiquarian just after we…" She pressed her lips together tightly. They were just as red as they used to be, and still contrasted sharply with her pale skin. Teddy, probably barely enduring the awkward mood, pulled on Harry's sleeve, his universal sign that he wanted to leave. "Right," Harry said, draining the last of his tea. "Thanks for saving us, Julie, and thanks for the tea. We need to go again. Busy schedule." "You probably think I'm a suspect," she said, making Harry and Teddy stop in their tracks towards the exit. "I'm afraid I can't comment on that," Harry said, turning around to face her. "You don't have to, your colleagues are transparent enough." She leaned over the counter, moving her hands through her hair in apparent frustration. "I just want you to know that I had nothing to do with this." "I —" "I know this doesn't really mean anything." She sighed. "I just wanted to say that to someone, and I hadn't really gotten the chance to yet." "Thing is," he said, ignoring Teddy's impatient noises, "why should I trust you? You know I can't ever do that anymore." "I know, I know," she said, rubbing her face. To his mortification, he saw tears well up in her glassy eyes. "I just…" "You have a good day now," Harry said, turning away from her. "Come on, Teddy." He heard her whisper an apology as he walked out the door, but he ignored it. As it was, his emotions were already threatening to spiral out of control. "What was that all about?" Teddy asked him once they were a considerable distance from the shop. Harry took a deep breath, taking in the many strange smells of the stores and vendors around him and pushing the lump in his throat down. "Relationships," Harry said, smiling down at him. He hardly had to look down anymore, he noticed. "They'll drive you bonkers. There's nothing quite like it." "I don't know if I want a girlfriend, you know," Teddy said. "Just doesn't seem worth it." Harry patted him on his shoulder in sympathy. |
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