Chapter 40 - On Eggshells
Kingsley Shacklebolt had just Flooed into St. Mungo's and headed for the Spell Damage Ward. He came from his office where he had a lengthy Floo conversation with his Toronto counterpart, Jack Muller. In past dealings he had always found the Canadian a reasonable guy. Muller's reaction to what Harry had allegedly done, and Kingsley had a feeling the allegations were true, was appropriate.
He had fifteen minutes before he was to meet with Minister Scrimgeour and Head Unspeakable Goddess Hush to discuss their game plan for the meeting Harry had demanded in Toronto. He had to brief them about the possibility of the existence of magic enabling potion and he had very few facts. He needed to speak with Harry to ask him what this was really about and what he and Hermione were up to.
And while the Toronto MLE was still unaware of Hermione's involvement, it was only a matter of time before they found out. She was definitely in a lot of trouble too. He'd have to be a bit more creative about her.
As it was becoming more apparent to him that the recent events in London and Toronto were related, he had reviewed the Roy Hunt file and read through the Floyd and Waxball incident of last year. He remembered Harry's frustration stemming from the lack of evidence and the loss of witnesses. There was a definite cover up. Being an oldtimer he had seen too many cases like that and like most of them, it had eventually gone cold and became less of a priority.
Harry could not let go, not after what happened to Ron, insisting Ron was murdered by the same magic capable Squib he had met in Toronto. There was no proof and Floyd had a solid alibi. He asked to be transferred to the Canadian city and now, after a year of perseverance, he finally found his evidence. Kingsley couldn't blame him for being a bit paranoid about it. He presumed Harry had asked Hermione for help and that was how she got involved.
Kingsley got to the crime scene and found it already cordoned off, crawling with MLE and forensics. Tonks was just outside the room deep in conversation with the dead man's Healer. He'd talk to her later. He walked through the magical barrier to join the hit wizard who was examining the still warm but very dead Argus Filch.
"Dean, thanks for joining us on this one," Kingsley shook Dean Thomas' hand.
"Not that I don't want to help but it's kind of a bugger being pulled from a high profile double murder case," Dean replied dryly, "Gumboil isn't pleased either."
"The double murder involves Death Eaters. It now belongs to the Auror Office," Kingsley informed him and did not have to mention how much more displeased Head Hit Wizard Gumboil was with that. "I requested your temporary reassignment so you can help us with it."
"And am I here because this has something to do with that?"
Dean caught on quickly.
Kingsley nodded and handed him a file, "And likely with an old case of yours."
"Roy Hunt."
"The Toronto file."
Dean laughed, amused, "Harry's secret mission."
"I couldn't show it to you last year and forbade Harry to tell you about it," Kingsley was aware Dean was unhappy being kept in the dark about that, "It was my call."
"You said it was classified."
"It still is."
"What do you need me for? The real Roy Hunt died in a prison brawl three months ago."
He thought with the murder of the Miracle Squib that would be obvious but realized Dean needed to be filled in some more.
"Read the file, then we'll talk. Come to my office in about an hour," Kingsley said as they turned their attention to Filch, "So, what do you think?"
"Unorthodox, creative M.O. No death mark but that doesn't mean anything. Whoever it was it would be a Hogwarts alum from when Filch was caretaker, probably had one too many detentions for violating Filch's not-to-do list. This killing was not a first and judging from how Filch died, this murderer has lots of patience and an unusual sense of humor or, maybe, he or she thought it would be poetic justice."
Kingsley nodded, "Not too shabby for a Hit Wizard. We suspect Mr. Filch was part of the party that stole from Gringotts, that he was a loose end that had to be tied up. We think Lestrange is behind it though this obviously wasn't her. No offense to Mr. Filch here but I feel a certain amount of respect for murderers who do not rely on the killing curse. I doubt we'll find many clues."
Dean grunted a half agreement then added, "It's just unfortunate about Filch."
"What makes you say that?"
Dean eyed the single piece of parchment in front of the Squib that matched the one that was lodged halfway into his throat and dangling from his mouth.
"If only he made a few less rules, he would still be alive."
XXXXXXXXXX
Just moments ago, in the northern part of Toronto, Harry and Hermione reappeared between two tall buildings on the York U campus away from the Muggle public eye, his hand letting go of her arm as she stepped away. She found the path to Dr. Tan's Lab and seemed to know how to get there.
Following her in silence, he felt somberness in her pervading mood that was not there before. Something was bothering her big time and he was almost certain it wasn't totally about the phial of magic potion.
"Are you okay?" he had to ask as he caught up with her.
The need to converse more openly with her made quietness between them an itch that had to be scratched. There was a lot to be said but he wasn't sure where or how to begin.
Hermione stopped, turned to face him, and asked him seriously, "Do you think I'm stringing you along for a ride?"
"Of course not," he tried to reassure her and, sensing Andy's diatribe got to her, added, "Andy doesn't know everything."
"Is she always like that?"
"Like what?"
"Protective of you."
Was that jealousy? He wasn't sure. He was about to say that Andy reminded him of how she was many years ago but decided against it.
"Is she, really?" he answered nonchalantly.
That seemingly was the only benign thing to say. It was like he was walking on eggshells around her, overly cautious not to say something that would make her walk out of his life again. Eggshells...she mentioned that before. She must know he was handling her with kid gloves.
Andy asked him once why he even bothered to patch things up with her, seeing how it was so obvious that Hermione didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore. Had she wanted or needed his apology she would have been more receptive. Andy opined that the only other reason any woman could drag this on forever was to get some measure of revenge by putting him through the torture. There were countless other women besides her. Why didn't he just give her up?
His partner had a good point but how does one give up on fifteen years of friendship? How does one give up caring about the one constant in his life, the one person who had been there from the very beginning and the one being who saw him for who he really was? And he had already been with countless other women besides her and wasn't keen on doing that again.
For years they were always there for each other, unspoken but proven and tested through time. It was his fault that wasn't the case anymore and it would be a lifetime of regret if he didn't exhaust all means to fix it. He loved her and he desperately wanted her to believe that, for only then could he even hope that she would reciprocate. Not seeing her the past year made him realize even more what he was missing in his life. And as the day wore on it seemed to him quite possible that, despite their rough start, things between them had turned around.
"She's right, you know," Hermione admitted as if annoyed that she did, "You're too nice. You shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't be doing me favors, not after this past year."
It was amusing to him how she could agree with Andy and yet allow him to help her.
"Did you expect me to wrestle the potion from you?" he asked jokingly. "Or turn you in for trying to steal it?"
He was trying to be funny but she did not even break a smile. She knew he would never do that.
"I shouldn't have convinced you this was the right thing to do."
"Well, isn't this the right thing to do?"
That wasn't a real question either.
"That's not the point," she was really upset at herself, "I knew you would do as I asked. It was inconsiderate of me to let you sacrifice your work here in Toronto. Even if Kingsley will let you have your old job back in London, you might not be able to work elsewhere..."
"Ssssh…"
Without a thought he raised a finger and pressed it lightly against her soft lips. Everything came to a halt; her...him…time...and all he could hear was the steady strong cadence of his heartbeat. He was quite unprepared for the gut wringing sensation the feel of her slightly open mouth and her warm breath on his skin would evoke. Her eyes spoke to him as they did so many times before, relieving him of the burden of uncertainly he had lived with since Ron died. He missed that, that reassurance that she cared about him, that look that he had taken for granted in the past more times than he could remember. It was even more of a relief because she still did in spite of what he had done.
While in times past and probably under less tenuous circumstances he would have pressed her then and there, he remembered his earlier mistake and instinct told him 'not yet'. And while she did say she wanted him out of her life, he couldn't believe that she really did, at least he hoped that she wouldn't when she heard the truth. She had to trust him more so he could convince her of what really happened. For now he allowed himself to be comforted by the knowledge that, despite everything, she still cared about him deeply and that she was staying.
"The sooner you accept that I'm here and we're doing this together, the sooner we'll get to the bottom of it," he said to her seriously as he withdrew his touch reluctantly. "Look, you convinced me that this is the right thing to do. You and Andy may think I'm doing this just to get back on your good side but give me a bit more credit that it's not about that…at least not entirely."
Finally, he saw her eyes smile somewhat at his openness.
"But your job…"
"Small sacrifice to prevent what can happen, don't you think?" he rebutted. "In my mind I am doing my job, just not exactly the way my boss wants it done. And let's not forget, you wouldn't be here had I not asked for your help, so stop feeling guilty."
Her brows furrowed as a clouded emotion loomed behind her brown eyes.
"I'm here because of the potion," she replied.
That was true; how could he forget. It was a reminder that he felt was as painful for her to say to him as for him to hear from her. She wanted it to be clear that she wasn't staying because he asked her to. It was in keeping with the fact that she wasn't stringing him along, nipping false hope right in the bud.
It was a reality check and was a reflection of where their relationship was at that very moment. They were a long way from where they were before, longer from where he wanted them to be, but he had to focus on the positive. They were now on speaking terms. Good, civil speaking terms.
He nodded slightly, signalling that he understood.
"At least you're here," he answered her quietly.
Hermione brought up Ron.
"It was very confusing when Ron died and for a very long time I couldn't think about you. I never meant to hurt you, Harry and I'm sorry that I did. I just wanted you to leave me alone."
Her apology was earnest and he understood how she couldn't and didn't want to think about him. At first, he gave her space because he knew she needed it but when she still didn't want to see him weeks after he began to worry. Avoiding him was her solution but he had hung on to the hope that she would realize that wasn't a permanent one. Did she really think he would leave her alone?
"I have trouble doing that."
"I figured as much," she smiled weakly, then shrugged, "Story of my life. I can't get what I want."
They began moving again towards the direction of the lab. As they got out in the open he clutched his concealed wand and intermittently scanned the perimeter for unfriendlies. While he did not think anyone could have followed them there, he could not be certain. He was there not only to protect the phial but more so to protect her.
set him free…save her…
Harry remembered the last part of the cryptic message from the Jane Doe they picked up from the Muggle loony bin yesterday and he could not help but think that the 'her' that was mentioned in it was Hermione. But save her from what? The conference was opening in two days and his gut was telling him Floyd needed her for something other than what the arse admitted to. He certainly found them quick enough. And how did news of Hermione's presence in Toronto travel so fast?
"When did you decide to come to Toronto?" he asked.
They were walking briskly on the sidewalk beside the length of a snowcovered football field.
"The Order asked me late last night."
"Who else knows you're here?"
"Aside from the Order, not many. I may have mentioned it to Delilah, Dennis, a couple of others maybe, I don't remember."
A couple of others...for a person who remembered every line in every book she read, he found it hard to believe that she would forget. Not mentioning Malfoy told him her personal life was off limits. She definitely did not want to talk about him.
Damn! Malfoy! The hair and the look on her face after he took the Juice...he should have recognized it as she had the moment he saw it. But he could not share that thought with her. Now wasn't the time for another confrontation, not when she was at least talking with him again. Bringing the git up in the same breath as evil suspect who's dating you only because he has something twisted to gain from it was definitely going to put her on the defensive again.
It could have been Malfoy who was at the diner. It was too much of a coincidence, he thought, but seemingly farfetched too. Even he would have to admit the only reason he thought of Malfoy was because his intentions were highly suspect and he could not stand the thought of Hermione ending up with him. Openly accusing Malfoy was not an option unless Harry had absolute proof that he was in Toronto and that he was at that diner. He'd check into that later. But if Malfoy suddenly showed up with the slightest hint of a scratch he would arrest him in an instant, even if there would be no real reason to.
Harry wanted Malfoy to be neck deep in this potion business. Catching him red handed would solve his dilemma of how to quickly convince Hermione to stop seeing him. He was mulling possibilities of how the ferret would be involved when she interrupted his thoughts. She knew why he asked the questions he asked.
"You really think Floyd needs me for something other than what he told you?"
"I could be overreacting," he tried to play his worry down, "But he did want something from you last year and I don't think he ever got it."
"And you think Ron got involved and that's why he killed Ron?"
"I don't know," he said honestly, "I just know he was there at the Stadium during the match."
"The guy with Omnioculars, a few rows down from where we were," Hermione suddenly realized.
"That's right. You saw him."
This was good. She was receptive to the truth.
"I didn't see his face. Ron was not himself during the beginning of the game and was distracted by something or someone in the crowd. I was following Ron's gaze when I saw him. He Disapparated after he..." she paused and looked at him,"...saw you. He was looking at you."
"He was gone when I got to his seat. I thought he was there for you only to realize later that it was really Ron he wanted to hurt. By the time I saw Ron falling it was too late to stop it."
There was so much more to tell her about what happened last year. He had to tell her the whole truth about Roy Hunt, how he was asked to go to Toronto as him, and how things went awry. He would have continued to offer information had she not looked away. She was confused and upset; about Ron, he presumed. Backing off, again.
They had arrived at the front entrance of Dr. Tan's lab and he stopped just before pulling the door open.
"Listen," he said to her, "All of this is probably overwhelming. I want you to believe me, but if you can't right now, then you can't."
She nodded, then said something he didn't quite expect, "All things considered, I'm glad you're here with me."
"You are?"
"My confidence in my fighting skills has waned considerably after my dismal performance at defending myself. I doubt I can keep the phial safe. Can you believe how pathetic I've become at combat?"
"Don't be too hard on yourself. Andy's been an Auror for a while. She does it for a living."
"I kept thinking about the possible serious injuries I could inflict and kept hoping I wouldn't cause permanent damage," she explained, unhappy about it."That was never a problem before."
"Too bad you've developed a conscience and lost your edge," he teased her and it did make her feel better.
"Not to make you feel guilty but doesn't that ever cross your mind? How do you do it?"
"It helps when the other guy shoots first and it helps knowing that they deserve it. I also try to think that it's better them than me," he replied.
"Self preservation...will keep that in mind for the next time."
Next time?
"You can't seriously be thinking..." his concern was interrupted by a chuckle.
"Who, Andy? Merlin, no!" she answered quickly, "I should have listened to you on that one. I may be stubborn but I'm not stupid."
She was laughing at herself somewhat as he pulled the door open for her to go through. He followed her in with a wide smile on his face. This felt good.
They approached the information counter and were told by the receptionist to wait inside what appeared to be an anteroom. They found a few lumpy sofas and uncomfortable wooden chairs in it, an indication that the lab preferred their guests on their feet. They drifted apart and roamed.
As they waited he couldn't help but notice that the room's plain walls were adorned with framed posters depicting the Lab's past and current Muggle undertakings. Tired from sleep deprivation and the magical scuffle he had engaged in, he was just eager for Hermione to find out for certain what the contents of the phial were. He quickly browsed through them until he found himself staring at one particular piece.
It was small and somewhat unobtrusive as it hung on the east wall amongst the oldest posters. He stood in front of it for a long time. It was different in that it was a painting, an old painting of a badger, a lion, an eagle and a snake, and the only reason it held his interest was because it reminded him so much of Hogwarts.
A/N. I realize some (maybe many) will disagree with Harry's approach. It puts him on unequal footing in the relationship, certainly exposed to being taken advantage of, but stupid as it may sound, true love makes one vulnerable to pain and the possibility of being hurt. Ónly the bravest and the most daring (or the most stupid - if you want to call it that) can reap love's richest rewards.
Hermione is not giving him hope but he's just hoping for the best, thinking she would come around once she discovers the truth about Ron's death. Is he being foolish? Any thoughts on whether or not Hermione should take him back once she finds out the truth about Roy and Ron? Is the truth enough?