Trust and Betrayal
By: JA_Japster
Inspired and partially based on the OAV "Samurai X"
Harry Potter is copyrighted to J.K Rowling and Samurai X and Rurouni Kenshin is copyrighted to Nobuhiro Wazuki and Shueisha Jump Comics. The fanfiction is the product of JA_Japster and should not be reproduced in any fashion without permission.
Trust
Part II: The Three Broomsticks
The headquarters of the London branch of the Order of the Phoenix was established in the heart of the city, probably one of the last places the authorities would suspect, under the disguise of a local inn and tavern called the Three Broomsticks. The owner of the tavern, a lovely middle aged woman named Madam Rosemary, was sympathetic to the rebel cause, and the inn and tavern itself generated enough traffic from foreigners and regular patrons to sufficiently cloak the Three Broomstick's true purpose from the Ministry. Combined with the fact that Madam Rosemary served a mean drink and fine meal, the Three Broomsticks made for an ideal headquarters and safe house for Order activity.
Ronald Weasley agreed whole-heartedly with that last sentiment. He was never happier than when he was inside the Three Broomsticks, out of the dreary rain, with a cold drink in one hand and a beautiful blonde in the other. Such as was the occasion now; having arrived with Harry to the tavern's welcoming embraces only an hour prior.
"And how many of those evil men did you kill today, Ron?" The blonde cooed, playfully running a finger down his freckled nose. He flushed until his skin was as red as his hair and took another swig from his glass.
"Practically a dozen!" Ron lied. "Ain't that right, Harry?"
Harry Potter sat in the stool next to Ron and the girl, staring blankly at an empty glass that had yet to be touched. He looked up and nodded distractedly. "Yeah. Sure."
"Sure I can't get you something to eat or drink, Harry?" Madam Rosemary asked.
"No thank you." Harry replied.
"Sure? You're one of the best soldiers the Order has got. You got to keep your strength up you know."
"I'll be fine."
Madam Rosemary frowned disapprovingly. Since the rebellion had officially been declared three years ago, Madam Rosemary had been a mother to the young men and women that filtered in and out of the tavern. She possessed a maternal protectiveness over all of them, scolding, comforting, and mourning whenever one died. If soldiers like Harry and Ron were the arms of the rebellion, it was people like Madam Rosemary who were the soul.
"Alright then. Call me if you need anything."
Harry nodded and Madam Rosemary disappeared back into the kitchen.
Ron stopped his flirting with the blonde and turned to his friend. "You sure you're all right?"
"Sure." Harry answered.
Liar, Ron thought. He'd met Harry when they were both eleven years old, nearly seven years ago, and one thing he'd learned from their years of friendship was that Harry hated to be nagged. The fact that his friend didn't show the smallest signs of annoyance was proof he was lying. But why would Harry lie to him?
He was probably tired, Ron concluded; weary from the night's activity. He had a right to be. Three hits in one night would exhaust anyone. Harry was the most proficient assassin ever known to England and had seen more blood during this rebellion than probably anyone else, but he was still human. It'd be best just to let him be.
After a while, Harry quietly rose and, without a word to anyone else, disappeared upstairs where the Order's housing accommodations were.
Madam Rosemary reappeared from the kitchen to collect Harry's unused glass. She polished it while staring at the stairwell that Harry had disappeared, a sort of sadness marring her usually lively smile. "He's a lonely man."
"Aye." Ron agreed. "He's found a meaning in life, but has no enjoyment for it."
Madam Rosemary chuckled. "The opposite of every other man in life. What he needs is a good woman."
Ron laughed. "Believe me I've tried. My sister, Ginny, was in love with him for the longest time but Harry…well…Harry just wasn't interested. Polite as hell, always, but completely indifferent to everyone he meets."
"Maybe he just hasn't met the right woman." The blonde commented. "The kind of woman that'll thaw that icy heart of his."
"Aye." Ron and Madam Rosemary chorused. "Aye."
Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, was not a happy man. He sat in his private office with two other senior officials, trembling with barely restrained rage, his bowler wobbling dangerously on his balding head. He stalked back and forth across the large office, his fists clenched at his side, cursing under his breath.
"Minister?" Asked one of the officials.
"Three senior officials, Hogs! Three!" Fudge raged. "Locke, Jenkins, and Williams! Three of the most important officials in parliament murdered on their way home from the meeting yesterday evening! Does this mean anything to you?"
"We'll have to try our hardest to fill in the gaps. Their absence will put a strain on several departments, but still I think-"
"You idiot!" Fudge screamed, spraying spittle over the unlucky official. "I meant the papers! The Daily Prophet for starters! Do you have any idea, any idea at all, what those journalists will do once they get news of this? Public disgrace! Total lack of confidence in our security measures! Heads will roll for this, Hogs, let me assure you!"
"We can't avoid the press forever, Minister." The other official cautiously ventured.
"No, we can't. But we must find someone responsible for these crimes to make it look like we're doing something to catch these…these…terrorists!"
"The law enforcement department has yet to determine a suspect."
"It's the Order no doubt. Those damn…damn…damn…ah!" Fudge screamed in rage and smashed his fist on his desk. "They're trying to destabilize the government from within. Picking us off one by one until we're too weak to resist. But I'll show them…"
Hogs looked at his partner uncertainly, but then said timidly, "They have confirmed though that all three murders were committed by one man. Most likely the same one in each case."
"Well that's just perfect!" Fudge exploded. "One man wiped out twelve of our best Aurors, and three government officials! What will the papers call him? The Slayer? Our propaganda machine is not working in case you haven't noticed, Hogs. As much as we print that the Ministry is doing a fine job protecting the rights and interests of the people, there is still dissatisfaction amongst the lower class, and that's why we have a rebellion on our hands for Christ's sake!"
"The papers must not get news that a single man is making a fool of us." Fudge continued. "No. The people will idolize this assassin; make him out to be a hero that kills in the name of justice. No, no, no."
Hogs mumbled something.
"What did you say, Hogs?" Fudge asked.
Hogs mumbled something again.
"What?"
Hogs averted his eyes so he wasn't looking at his boss. For the first time Fudge noticed there was something in Hog's hands that looked like a crumpled periodical. And written along the top of the newspaper in big bold letters was…
"I said…it's already too late." Hogs whispered.
Author's Notes
Well, there you have it. Chapter two is done and chapter three is on its way. Thank you for your reviews. I'm horrible about completing stories. Absolutely terrible. To date I've never finished a single multi-chapter story I've started. But, don't give up hope on me yet! I'll break the streak! Promise! Edits were made to the copyright (thanks!) Oh and I really would like a proof reader so if anyone is willing…Well, I have some video game playing to do. Now if you'll excuse me Jak III awaits…
Comments, queries, flames, complaints, praises…review box folks! Read and review!