Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 6-

A/N: Yeah, I know I took forever, but I've been reading and rereading Order of The Phoenix all this time. Also laziness was at its peak. *guilty grin* I hope you all have read the book by now and realize that my fic will now be a very AU one. I'll have to force myself to forgive J.K. for killing off one of my favorite characters but it still hurts.

Anyway, thank you all for your reviews and opinions. They've been great and I'm very amused that you all want to read more. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

No Harry/Hermione action, but some very naughty thoughts on behalf of one of them.

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Harry nearly splinched himself after attempting to apparate to Horizont Alley in Dublin. He'd been there countless times before, but this time his mind had obviously been elsewhere.

Evenings in Horizont Alley weren't always the same. Usually it was bursting with young boys playing in the streets, several arrays of witches chatting it up in the robe and bookshops and the local pub doing brisk business. Other nights, such as during a bitter winter, the street was a snow covered ghost town or winter wonderland near Christmas. However, this night was surprisingly slow, being that two murders had just occurred earlier in the day and the town's people were terrified. Most shops were closed and the pub was doing small business.

Pulling himself together and getting his mind off Hermione for the first time since he left her flat, Harry made his way up the steps into the Splintered Wand. A gust of wind blew across his face, making his hood fall back. Looking down, he noticed that a Daily Prophet front page was clinging to his leg. Pulling it off, he read the headline. Two Wizards Murdered! Neo-Morts To Blame. The door suddenly burst open and he was shoved aside by two large, burly, drunk wizards. He watched as they stumbled down the steps, their arms heavily draped around each other, singing (or rather yelling) out a vulgar song that echoed in the empty street. Another wizard, an older looking and rather short one, came out after them, a black, stained apron wrapped around his bulging middle. Harry suspected the man might be a few inches taller than his little old Charms teacher, Professor Flitwick. He stood there and watched the other two sway and stumble down the cobblestone road.

"Away with ya!" he shouted standing at the door in a thick Irish accent. "And don't ya be comin back tomorrow!"

The two men rounded a corner but their yelling could still be heard. The short man laughed to himself and turned to go back in. "Ay, damn elephants," he muttered to himself. He then noticed Harry standing beside him. The short man craned his neck back to look at Harry properly when he spotted the ever-famous scar. His beady black eyes rounded in surprise as he stood there almost gaping. Harry was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He tried to casually flatten his bangs over his forehead, a very old habit of his since Hogwarts. He was about to leave, but the man came to his senses. He shook his head quickly as if clearing it of some thoughts, then stepped inside, beckoning Harry to follow him.

Harry followed the man closely through the dark and smoky pub, all the while keeping his eyes forward. He'd experienced just about enough in there before to know when and when not to look around. On occasion the place got a bit rowdy. Three wizards were scattered at the bar. One, Harry noticed, was completely swallowed in a shabby, black cloak, nursing a rather large tankard of ale. They walked past a towering wizard who appeared to have had two pints too many, was threatening a group in a corner. That part of the pub had gone quiet listening to his slurred trash talking.

As soon as they had gone through another doorway into a private parlor room, Harry could hear the fight beginning to break out. "He's over there," said the short man and quickly dodged out of the parlor and back to the scene. Harry closed the door and turned to see his godfather sitting in a large, leather armchair by a roaring fire. Sirius hadn't changed much, the only difference being that he was now sprouting white hairs, wrinkles were slowly creeping up on his handsome, framed face and he ate regularly, unlike his fugitive years. His salt and pepper like head turned slightly to look at Harry. He couldn't see a smile on Sirius' face nor a look a severity. Harry dropped his suitcase beside the door and went to join his godfather. Once sitting down, he noticed that Sirius was smiling lightly, obviously glad to see his godson once again.

"Good to see you again, Harry," said Sirius, setting down his pint. "Although I do wish it were under better circumstances."

"I know what you mean," Harry replied glancing about the room. "Where are the others?"

"I asked to come alone."

The door opened and Harry watched a witch come in balancing a tray of both empty and full pints. She came up to them and set down a mug in front of Harry with a wink. Sirius watched over the rim of his as Harry tried to ignore her strides back to the door. Harry took a quick swig from his pint and eyed Sirius expectantly.

"All right, I finally came. Should we get down to business?"

Sirius nodded, setting down his pint and sliding a thick folder Harry didn't notice before across the table to him. Harry picked it up and examined the contents inside. There were reports of the two murders earlier in the day and profiles of suspected Neo-Morts.

"Carl MacNair," said Sirius, watching as Harry flipped to MacNair's profile. "I'm sure you remember his uncle-"

"How could I forget?" Harry mumbled, reading the report.

"Four witches saw him walking away from the scene today, the first sighting of him in over five months. His house has been abandoned and of course, all known relatives are dead."

"Who did he kill, exactly?"

"Muggle-borns. A medi-wizard and nurse. They were coming out of the hospital for a break when MacNair and another Neo-Mort came out of nowhere and used unforgivables on them both."

Neo-Morts were infamously known for killing people at random. It didn't matter whether you were the Minister of Magic himself or a dish scrubber at the Leaky Cauldron. If you weren't a pure blood and evil, you were dead.

"So what you're getting at is that you want me to track him down." It wasn't a question. He already suspected his assignment the moment he read Sirius' letter.

"We suspect that when you find MacNair, you'll find Neo-Mort headquarters. He's rumored to be one of the leading wizards." Harry nodded he understood. Sirius stayed silent for a moment as Harry reached out for his pint and took another swig.

"Any ideas where I might find him?" asked Harry setting down his pint and papers. Sirius pulled out a small piece of parchment and handed it to him.

"One of the witches at the scene saw him drop this." Harry opened the note to find an address in neat, cursive writing. "A small residential neighborhood in muggle Dublin."

"Why would he have a muggle address?"

"It could be either of two things. Neo-Morts could be hiding there or it's the next stop on their hit list."

They continued discussing auror progress on the case, possible leads and suspects for hours. A clock somewhere in the parlor chimed one. Sirius slowly stood up, his cane in hand, followed by Harry.

"It's late. You need your rest," he said coming around the table to Harry. "Report back to headquarters when you have any new information. Be careful and don't do anything rash."

Harry couldn't help but smile. "Of course."

They embraced in a quick hug. Sirius stepped back, ready to apparate.

"You're to stay here. I've already reserved a room for you. Use your alias."

Pop!

Harry went back to the door and opened it to find the pub in order and empty except for two wizards at the bar. Surprised, he picked up his suitcase and went over to the little man behind the bar.

"Excuse me, do you have a room for James Black?" The little man looked up and again was in awe of Harry. He cleared his throat and shook his head fervently as if trying to get some thoughts out of his head.

"Of course Mister... err... Black. Just a moment."

He hopped off the box he was standing on. Harry leaned over the bar to see the top of his head as he clinked around looking for keys. The man then came out around the bar and motioned for Harry to follow him. When arriving in front of room eleven on the second floor, the man handed Harry the key.

"If you need anything, just ask. The name's George."

"Thank you," said Harry.

He watched George go back down the stairs then unlocked the door. 'If I didn't know any better, I would have thought old George is a leprechaun,' Harry thought to himself as he stepped inside.

Harry looked around the comfortable room, finding a queen sized bed, a desk beside him and a door half opened on the other side that led into the bathroom. He tossed his suitcase beside the desk chair and made his way over the window. Horizont Alley lay down below, very cold and quiet. Harry moved away from the window and threw himself down on the bed. Only bothering to kick off his shoes and remove his glasses, he drifted off to sleep almost immediately, his face half smothered by the pillow.

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Harry awoke with a start early the following morning. While taking a shower, his mind went back trying to recall the dream he had been having. He expected it would be of Death Eaters, rattling, cold breaths and scabby, gray hands. But instead as he lathered his arm with soap and made his way up to his shoulder, he realized he had in fact dreamt of warm, brown eyes and soft, curling hair flecked with gold. He remembered delicious, soft, pink lips and hands that could scorch his skin with the slightest touch.

'How could one damn kiss make me think about her this way?' he asked himself, his eyelids being patted by streams of water. The inside of his eyelids still burned with flashes of skin and sheets. 'She's Hermione! My Hermione! I can't think of her this way. I've never thought of her like this. She's my best friend, the only woman whom I can confide in. I can't risk losing over ten years of valuable friendship over these feverish fantasies. . . But I've never felt a kiss like that ever before though.'

His senses came alive as he could practically hear the rustling of bedsheets followed by soft sighs and moans. "Oh..." her voice moaned and echoed in his head, "Please, Harry... Now..." Harry groaned, reaching out and turning the knobs, quickly making the shower as cold as possible.

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After forcing himself to clear his mind of Hermione once more while getting dressed in normal Muggle clothing except for his dragonhide boots, Harry left the Splintered Wand through the muggle world entrance. After asking a man for directions to the street written on the parchment, he hailed a cab and was surprised when he was taken to a wealthy neighborhood far from any wizarding eyes. He paid the driver and began to search for the address MacNair scrawled.

39 Violeta Road, read the paper. 33. . . 35. . . 37. . .

"Thirty-nine."

Harry looked up the long gravel driveway and laid his eyes upon a house that stood out no more than old Aunt Petunia's perfect garden on Privet Drive. The handsome manor was closed off by wrought iron gates and equipped with a security camera. A healthy, green lawn surrounded the house, which was a coated in a seemingly brand new coat of white paint. The perfect upper class Muggle home.

Approaching the gate, the small camera swerved to watch him, the small red light blinking on its head. Without so much as a glance at it, Harry discretely pulled out his wand, sending invisible, powerful jolts and short-circuting the electronic. With a silent 'Alohamora,' the gate creaked open and Harry's boots crunched up the gravel driveway. Coming up to the house, he noticed a garage door open and caught a glimpse of a classic black jaguar. Harry silently stepped up to the front door but stopped his fist halfway from knocking. Again his auror instincts of thinking stepped in. This house was either of three things; a) An undercover Neo-Mort's home, b) a source's home or c) a wealthy victim's. With this in mind, Harry magically unlocked the door and slipped in.

Forcing himself to ignore the extravagance inside, Harry tapped his head and muttered the Disillusionment charm, instantly blending into his surroundings. There were three ways he could go. Before him began a grand staircase that curved and led upstairs. Beside the stairs was a wide hallway leading to the back of the house. And to his left was a dark room.

As silently as possible, he went left stepped into the drawing room. Blood red velvet drapes in all three windows kept out the morning sun. All he could see were the shadows of long couches and small tables. On the right wall beside him was a large portrait of what appeared to be a sitting woman. But he couldn't see her face, nor those of the subjects in other smaller frames on a small table under it. A clock was ticking somewhere off in the distance, probably near the door on the far side of the room. A sliver of yellow light seeped out from under the door, flickering, showing the shadows of a person moving about. The plush, black carpet muffled Harry's footsteps as he made his way to the door.

Heels clicked lightly on the hardwood floor as the person continued to walk in what sounded like circles. Someone let out a heavy sigh and glass lightly chinked on tile. Harry began to push the swinging door slightly to catch a glimpse of the person but the loud chime of the distant clock startled him and the person in the room.

"Blasted clock," came the voice of a woman. It struck Harry as strangely familiar, but his mind couldn't place it. "Late," she said apparently very annoyed. Seconds later another chime echoed through the house, but it was that of the front door. The click of her heels was getting closer, forcing Harry to quickly stand stiff against the wall. The door swung open and he watched a woman with dark, long flowing hair hurridly sway to the front door. He was practically invisible, but better safe to stay there against the black wall than sorry.

"Ah," came her disappointed voice from the entrance. "It's you. You're late."

"I beg your forgiveness, my Mistress," a man growled. "I have critical news for your husband."

"He isn't here. You'll have to speak with him later," she said impatiently. "Do you have what I wanted?"

"But my Mistress, this can devastate the organization's plans!"

There was a long pause followed by the door closing.

"Well, what is it?" Another pause. "Tell me, you insufferable idiot!"

"Potter's here." Harry was rooted to his spot, his eyes slightly bulging. How could he have been followed?!

"What are you talking about? I know for a fact Potter's still in England."

"N-No, my Mistress," the man replied. "I spotted him at the Splintered Wand last night. He went into a private parlor room... But that good for nothing Biggler threw me out before he reemerged."

During this conversation Harry was slowly making his way to the drawing room doorway in order to catch a glimpse of these two people. The woman sighed.

"Impossible," she said to herself. An uneasy silence filled the room while she contemplated what he had just said. "Follow me." Harry froze again as he heard footsteps. But they began to climb the stairs, allowing him to make it to the doorway. Glancing up to the second floor landing, he caught the profile of pale, custard like skin, a crooked nose, a furrowed brow and long, dark brown hair tied back, a few whisps caught in his mouth. The woman had already disappeared and Harry could hear a door being opened.

"My love," Harry barely heard her say, "MacNair is here with news for you."

The door was then closed and no more could be heard, much to his disappointment. Harry knew better than to follow. These people were clearly members of the Neo-Morts. His mind skipped at the thought of finding one of their headquarters. Making sure no one was soon bound to come out, Harry opened and slipped past the front door and outside again. Yes, he admitted, he did tend to do foolish things, but he also knew better than to walk into what would most likely be a room full of murderers without any backup.

Harry noticed that the iron gate was still slightly ajar, just how he left it. It was also most likely that MacNair had apparated inside. Quickly relocking the gate, Harry looked around for any Muggle stragglers or approaching dark wizards before apparating to Irish auror headquarters in Horizont Alley.

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"So MacNair knows you're here," repeated Sirius tapping his quill absentmindedly on a blank parchment. Chairs creaked as other aurors began to talk amongst themselves. Harry had just arrived and was forced to interrupt a briefing in order to report everything he had seen and heard on Violeta Road. His news caused immediate triumphant grins of finding a MacNair and possible leading suspects. Others threw worried glances at each other, knowing that their original plans would have to be destroyed and new ones conceptualized immediately.

"That definately must be Neo-Mort headquarters," said one over the talking. "We should raid the manor and arrest all those inside."

"But how do we even know they are Neo-Morts there aside from Potter seeing MacNair?" questioned another, sitting straight across from the first. He turned his salt and peppered head to Harry. "You saw no one else?"

"Only the back of the woman," he replied.

"Very well," said a woman sitting besides Sirius. She reminded Harry of a younger McGonagall as she put the tips of her fingers together and looked sternly at Harry who was seated at the opposite end of the table. Her tight bun of black hair stretched her eyes slightly as she studied him through her spectacles. "If that is all you have to report, I believe we have a very long day ahead of us. All plans must be altered since we now have a very possible Neo-Mort headquarters within sight. Potter, we will be assigning you to stake out the manor since you now hold more knowledge of the surroundings and the home itself."

Harry nodded and they all got down to work. A wizard near Harry stood and began to pace around the long table.

"Right," he said. "We will need records of who goes in and who comes out. Twenty four hour surveillance, post checks both owl and Muggle, photos, floo monitoring- And this is a muggle home, correct?"

"Yes," said Sirius.

"Then it would be possible that they have a... what is that communication device called?"

"A telephone," answered Harry. "I think I know how to tap it. Although I will need to go through the Muggle relations office for access and approval."

"I'll get on that," said a witch near him. She stood, gathering her heaps of parchment and winked at Harry as she walked past.

"Catherine," said the man turning to another witch. "Contact the floo network and-"

"Already on it," she said getting up to leave as well. All those who remained in the briefing room to fine tune the stake out details.

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Sirius came into Harry's room later that afternoon and found him sitting at the edge of his bed lost in very deep thought. He silently went to sit beside him, startling his godson out of his thoughts.

"Knut for your thoughts?" he asked.

"I'll be the wealthiest man in the world," mused Harry. Sirius chuckled.

"That good?"

"That many and confusing... But yeah. That good." The men stayed silent for a few moments.

"Is it Hermione?" Harry's head snapped up and he turned to look at his godfather.

"How did-"

"I've known you, Ron and Hermione since you were thirteen. You practically act like your father. I think I'd know when you finally realize you're in love with your best friend."

"I'm not in love with her."

"Oh?" asked Sirius very amused. He raised his eyebrow somewhat knowingly. Harry tried to hide the grin appearing on his face.

"I- I don't know, Sirius. She's always been there for me. I've always loved her as- well- Hermione. All these feelings are so new and strange and-"

"You kissed her, didn't you?"

"I- What?! No!" Sirius stared at him. "Yes."

"And?"

"And it was.... Oh Merlin. It was..."

"That good?"

"That..." Harry trailed off, his eyes having a far away look in them. He let go of a deep breath and ran a hand through his messy hair. "Sirius, what should I do?! I've never felt like this about her- About anyone."

"Not even Bianca?"

"No. Especially not Bianca. She left me two days ago." Harry didn't notice the worried look on Sirius' face. "I thought I loved her but she never did this to me. She never made me go insane over one kiss."

He wondered how much he should say to his godfather, knowing perfectly well that even he, Harry, was still too shocked over this new revelation of feelings for one of his best friends. It was all too fast too soon. But that's just how life came to Harry. Too fast, too soon. He glanced at Sirius and realized that he was the only person Harry could talk to about Hermione. Ron came into mind as well, but try explaining to him that you want to ravish both his and your closest friend half the time you think of her. He had to get this out sooner or later if he didn't want to go insane.

"I'm too terrified and excited to figure out what all these feelings mean. I've known her since we were eleven and of course I love her, but never once actually considered... Half of me is saying this is all a mistake, that these thoughts of mine are going to ruin one of the most beautiful friendships I've ever had. But the other half of me wants nothing more than to..." He trailed off again, lowering his head. Sirius could have sworn he saw Harry blushing. Harry shut his eyes and rubbed his temple in frustration. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"No, you're making perfect sense," Sirius replied in a soft and calm voice after listening to all or most of what Harry wanted to say. He himself never really experienced what love felt like, but he did always pay close attention to his best friend's courtship. He was seeing similar signs in Harry as he did in Harry's father decades ago. "I don't know what to tell you, Harry, except to follow your heart. It may not seem like it at first, but it will always lead you right." Harry nodded but still felt strange about everything he'd said and was feeling. Sirius rubbed his back comfortingly and gave him a hearty pat. He then looked down at his watch, his eyes slightly widening in recognition. "But as for now, we have work to do."

"I thought you said I should relax the rest of the day."

"Yes, but there's something else. Sort of a last minute task, if you will. We're assigning you a partner."

"A partner?"

"Yes." Sirius suddenly looked incredibly uncomfortable. He then got up and went to the door. Harry stood up and followed him. "You're doing fine on your own and we're making good progress on the case. But we realized soon after you left headquarters that you will need a partner for the stake out. I doubt it's possible for you to stay awake for three days straight. Her encounters with the Neo-Morts and surviving Death Eaters are of some great use to us." He stood beside the door, his hand on the knob. Harry noticed the troubled look on his face but Sirius answered him before he could ask. "I'm advising you now, Harry. Please put your differences aside just for the next three days. If you had said something earlier, I could have prevented much of the pain. But you must act professional despite what you want to say or do. Don't do anything rash, Harry. You know it could-"

"Jeopardize or threaten the mission, myself and any other commrades. I know," finished Harry. Sirius still looked troubled.

"Very well. Meet your new partner." He opened the door and Harry's eyes widened in shock.

"Hello, Harry. Nice to see you again." She gave him a cheery smile.

Harry was speechless, as Sirius suspected he would be.

"Erm, hello." Harry turned to Sirius, a very worried expression on his face. "Sirius, could I- err- Have a word?"

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*Snickers* It's the return of the big bad cliffies! Muahaha!! Sit tight, there's more to come soon enough.