Chapter 51 - The Janus Prophecy
It was two a.m. and she had been fast asleep for a good hour. With considerable difficulty, Harry disentangled himself from Hermione's warm and cozy embrace, taking care not to wake her, kissing her hair softly when she momentarily stirred, tucking her in. He dressed and barefoot, crossed the false wall into the adjacent Auror observation room, organizing his thoughts. He had a lot of work to do.
The hotel room had been altered as workspace to give the Aurors the ability to monitor the area and work on the case while they waited for Floyd to take the bait. When they were discussing how to set it up, Andy had to remind him many times that the point was not to prevent Floyd from coming but to make sure they'd have enough time to react and protect Hermione if he did. Wards had been put up to disallow Apparition to or Disapparition from the entire 24th floor and to deny access through the window overlooking Gerrard Street. Within Hermione's room several key objects had been transformed into portkeys to give her easy ways to escape, designed such that the destination was random for each and known only to the team. Although Hermione had already expressed that she would never use them, Andy insisted on it, saying that it would be there if she needed one. Hermione refused to carry one in her purse.
TV screens were stacked and lined up where the bed would have been, hooked up to hotel security cameras and combined with detectors to give them immediate alarms and visuals when magic was used. He wasn't too concerned about Floyd coming here because they had controlled the environment to stack any confrontation in their favour but the real challenge was protecting her when she was out in public.
Harry sat at one of the work desks where he had sent all the materials he had wanted to read and began plugging away. For obvious reasons, he started with the Malfoy file. He read through case upon case that the ferret was involved in starting from when he was a law student. Malfoy's very first one in the Public Defender's office was about four years ago. He won that one for the crook, a con man who had been caught selling non existent Caribbean vacations to unsuspecting buyers.
In fact most of his earlier cases were similar to that; most he won, some he lost. The past two years he was lead counsel for a couple of high profile murder cases with which he had success with. As Harry was not very conversant in Muggle Law he couldn't tell if Malfoy was good or just lucky, although he naturally suspected that Malfoy illegally used magic to gain advantage and that he just had never been caught.
After some time Harry noticed a few repeat customers. He set aside the cases involving his most frequent clients when something struck him. Malfoy had repeatedly requested to be assigned as defense attorney for some guy by the name of Tommy Waterman. The odd thing about Waterman was that he committed crimes out West, in San Francisco. What was a Detroit PD doing on his case?
Waterman started his criminal career as a petty thief and gradually went on to do bigger and nastier things. His rap sheet when Malfoy defended him last two and a half years ago included assault and murder, all of which Malfoy got him out of.
Harry pondered the information for a while. He was sure Malfoy would have had to get another license to practice law in a different state. That was strange because from what he read, Malfoy never involved himself with any other trials out West. The similarity of Waterman's name with Floyd's was a red flag but he could not allow himself to get too excited about the possible connection. It couldn't be that easy, could it?
The Waterman cases were obviously of importance to Malfoy, enough to ask for it. A computer linked to the Ministry database received his query and it took some time for Waterman's information to come up on the screen. The sheer length of his Muggle rap sheet was the reason for that; the words robbery, assault, battery and murder glared back at him repeatedly. Waterman was a Squib.
What he read next convinced him that he was on the right track. Waterman grew up in Flint, Michigan with a brother, Theodore, who also had a California record of less violent crimes. Harry was sure he had found Tom Floyd's and Ted Waxball's real identities; both Watermans were supposedly killed in San Francisco during a Muggle sting operation gone wrong the same time Floyd and Waxball emerged in Toronto from nowhere. They must have moved to California, started their criminal careers there before moving back east with aliases when things got very hot.
He accessed the Bay area mug shots and that confirmed everything. The two men that stared back at him were definitely Floyd and Waxball, only both looked younger and both had blond hair. So Malfoy knew them both, likely from before the Watermans moved out West, when Malfoy first came to the Detroit area with his mother years ago. Maybe they met at school, some juvenile detainment, or a gang. As Harry thought about how they would have met, he remembered something that Floyd boasted to the Mystery Witch sometime ago and what Andy said last night.
"What have we got to lose? She can be annoyed all she wants, kill off everyone else in the Ghoul that day to keep the potion underground but she can't touch us."
"It's too bad I can't go beyond threats when it comes to family."
He had always wondered why Lestrange let Floyd live, and why, according to the Squib, she couldn't touch them. Thinking how easily Lestrange killed her cousin Sirius, it was difficult to imagine her mellowing down and giving an ass like Floyd reprieve even if they were related, although in the past few years she had been known to tolerate rivals she wouldn't have before.
Of course, he didn't have a copy of the Black family tree and would not be able to get to it from where he was. He thought about how else he could prove that the Watermans and Malfoy were related. The Watermans parents' names were also not available. Harry would tell Andy and Ginny about this at a more reasonable hour but he needed confirmation before discussing Malfoy with Hermione. It was a conversation they had to have but he was not really looking forward to.
The fact that Malfoy was a former attorney to a wanted criminal would be enough reason to bring him in for questioning in the morning but if he was family, they could lean on him harder than if he was not, and they would have more questions for him to keep him in the Ministry past lunch.
Admitting to himself that his reasons were more personal, Harry left a message for Kingsley to send him a list of Lestrange's relatives and last known addresses. Fortunately for the git, Harry had regained some objectivity. As much as he would like to it to be so, being related to Floyd, like being related to Lestrange, did not mean Malfoy was the Potion Master. Being in the vicinity of where both batches of potion were created did not automatically make him the Potion Master either. While his gut said Malfoy was involved, he recognized that all they had on him was circumstantial.
It was probably too much to wish for his Potion Master confession or for him to be stupid enough to get caught fraternizing with Floyd. And there was the matter of motive. If Malfoy was the Potion Master on the brink of running arguably the largest band of Dark wizards and witches in Europe, why was he keeping his day job?
Malfoy or not, the Potion Master and Lestrange chose the Bruin Potion and the Toronto Research Conference for a reason. He called Ginny back last night as Andy chatted with Hermione in the Marsh kitchen and they continued their conversation about Lestrange.
"A couple of years ago, when I was doing research on alleged Hufflepuff prophecies, I came across an obscure one about the emergence of a powerful wizard known as the Grey Warlock, supposedly made to Salazar Slytherin," Ginny wasted no time in explaining. "Scholars call it the Janus Prophecy."
"Janus, the two faced Roman god of doorways and beginnings," he once dated someone who was into gods and goddesses.
"The exact wording is lost forever but it mentions that a Dark Witch will cause worldwide catastrophic disorder. Beings of light and dark, magical and non-magical, Muggle and non-Muggle, will clash and there will be a period of turmoil. It goes on about how this unrest will be short-lived and will be immediately followed by an absolute utopia of co-existence."
"That sounds like something from a fairy-tale," Harry was already skeptical.
"Don't preach to the choir. I get what you mean," Ginny replied, as cynical as Harry, "Anyway, it is said that this Paradise will be engineered by the Grey Warlock, that he will unite light and dark because he is both, walked both and will have support of both. He is being envisioned as someone who is Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin combined for only one so can do something like that, and once he does, he is supposed to become the undisputed leader of both Muggle and Magical Worlds."
"Beings will always disagree about something, light and dark cannot co-exist in harmony and one man rulers are never good."
She answered back, "Several experts throughout history believe that the Grey Warlock is a wolf in sheep's skin, one who will ultimately reveal his true Dark leanings after he attains full control, summarily eliminate all opposition and have a Dark version of peace."
"So, you figure Lestrange fancies playing the Dark witch who will cause the chaos?"
"Yes and more," Ginny replied, "It's a crazy thought so keep an open mind as I go through it."
Harry had an inkling where she was going with this and tried hard to do as she asked.
"I'm listening."
"Floyd meets Helga Braun and stumbles upon the potion recipe, gets a potion maker to brew it, tries to distribute it with Mystery Witch a year later, gets slapped in the hand by Lestrange because we presume she wants to be the one to do it."
"At that point Lestrange would have already made the Bruin potion connection and the Janus prophecy is well known among practitioners of the Dark Arts. Here's where she gets a bit strange. You'd think being a Muggle hater she'd quash attempts to make magic enabling potion. But instead, she waits a year, gets her potion maker to brew another batch and specifically chooses Toronto during this year's research conference to show the world. Why did she have to wait a year? Why Toronto and why the research conference? If she wanted chaos, she could have done so last year and on her turf. When we thought that Malfoy could be the Potion Master, it made me wonder about the Janus Prophecy."
"You think Malfoy is the Grey Warlock."
"I don't think it's Malfoy, but I think Lestrange thinks or wants it to be Malfoy or whoever her Potion Master is. For years she has had no real successor and now she's retiring with one, coincidentally the same time Malfoy decided to move back to London. They needed the year to prime and prepare him, to get him in place."
"You're saying that Lestrange is not only grooming him to be her successor, she's orchestrating all this potion making to create bedlam so that Malfoy can fulfill the Janus prophecy?" Harry was skeptical, "She's got too much confidence in her nephew's abilities, don't you think?"
"You have to admit Malfoy's the most obvious two faced wizard who is involved in all this. At this time, shouldn't the Potion Master be more forward about who he is? And why else would she agree to produce a magic enabling potion unless it's to throw the world into Darkness?" Ginny explained, "Malfoy is living the Janus prophecy. Already he has been invited to be on several committees at the Ministry. His political clout is growing in places the Malfoy name has never been mentioned before. He's Pureblood and will also have Squib blessing. He's publicly reformed, has gained a lot of magical being approval through the years both here and abroad. He's riding Hermione's popularity to gain respect from the Muggleborns and if she goes on with him and they get continued press coverage, he'll have it and a lot more support from witches and wizards. But causing the chaos is key. Without the chaos, the Grey Warlock will have nothing to fix and be a hero for."
"But he's not close to being like Salazar Slytherin. And Godric Gryffindor? Forget it," he scoffed, stating the obvious.
"In magical powers, I agree, but how sure are we? He's been away for years. Have you seen him do magic lately? And I can't imagine the statute of secrecy being broken, I probably won't ever, but if that ever happens, I personally think Muggles will more likely trust someone not as magically endowed, or at least someone who doesn't appear to be. "
"I'd still say he's delusional if he's forcing himself into being Janus," Harry was still skeptical. "Both him and his deranged Aunt."
"It doesn't matter that you and I don't think he is the Grey Warlock. If he does and Lestrange does, then this is where they're headed. If he is the Potion Master, he will succeed Lestrange. The Prophecy only says that the period of chaos is short-lived, but what's brief? One year? Five? Ten? How much time does one need to become more powerful, to change opinions, to gain more trust? Just watch out if he tries to keep his day job and the Potion Master sees it fit to remain nameless and faceless."
"That's a good point," he acknowledged. "I've been thinking more about Malfoy as Potion Master and some things don't fit. If he's the Potion Master then why not do this in London? And he's already got Hermione covered so why send Floyd to get her?"
Ginny had no real answers either. "All I can think of is that the Potion Master's Bruin Potion is not the intended one and maybe he's looking for other potion makers to help to improve it."
They both knew Hermione would never willingly help and Harry did not like what he was hearing. While the bit about Malfoy being the Grey Warlock seemed almost laughable, Ginny's point about Hermione helping improve the potion was very possible. The conference would be attended by many brilliant potion makers like her. It could be recruitment by coercion and the reason for all the waiting.
"Maybe they're in Toronto for the same reason Helga Braun was there two years ago," Ginny said thoughtfully.
"To find the Bruin granddaughter prophesied to create the better one?"
Hermione?
"Obviously not Hermione," Ginny quickly answered his mental question, "But maybe they're there to look for Sophie's granddaughter. If he believes he is Janus then he must be looking for ways to be a hero. Creating the safer and better magic enabling Bruin potion is a must once this impure one hits the streets. He must know that the better potion has to be created to fulfill his destiny and that potion can only be created by the One."
Harry made a mental note to get the list of potion makers in attendance and have the team scan for possible Bruins. Still, it all seemed farfetched. He was trying to think like Lestrange and he wondered if Lestrange knew more about the Hufflepuff prophecies than they did.
"Are the two Hufflepuff prophecies related?"
"I don't know. Both were made by Hufflepuff around the same time but they have never been mentioned as part of the other despite the fact that both speak of chaos," she replied. "Although what are the chances she was predicting two separate occurrences?"
"Trelawney saw everyone as being in 'grave danger'," he pointed out, remembering their Hogwarts Divination professor, "Maybe 'chaos' is Helga's thing."
"Trelawney was a fraud 99 per cent of the time," Ginny retorted.
He agreed, "Have any of Helga's alleged predictions come true?"
"Nope. Not yet," Ginny answered, "So maybe we shouldn't be too worried."
"If this potion becomes public knowledge at least one will come true. And I am worried about Hermione," he confessed, "Malfoy got to her. She really thinks he has changed. She's going to be disappointed and upset at herself once we prove he hasn't."
"Look on the bright side then. We could be wrong. Maybe he's genuinely interested in her the same way you are. Maybe she's right about him and he's not the Potion Master."
Although Ginny was being facetious, Harry thought the latter was actually more plausible than Malfoy thinking he was about to fulfill the Janus prophecy as the Grey Warlock. It was until he found the Floyd connection. He quickly browsed through Hermione's suggested Bruin reading and found not much more than what Ginny had already told him. That or maybe he had exceeded his capacity to comprehend and retain information.
His phone rang. Leo had good news. Malfoy was careless and stupid after all. A bartender id'd him having a few beers with Floyd at a pub on Bloor. A search warrant was in the works and once they got clearance, they were going to assemble a team to pick Malfoy up for questioning. He asked Leo to let him know before they started the interrogation. He wanted to be there.
And to think yesterday, he couldn't catch a break.
He tipped his head back and stretched his neck from one side to the other. He was tired. Gazing across the other room over to her, he noticed that Hermione had moved and was now on her right side. It was almost five. Thinking that he should probably wake her before the next shift came, Harry walked back into the other room and got into bed with her. He lay on his left, watching her sleep as sky light streamed through the open window, thinking about how much he should tell her about Malfoy. She shifted slightly and he brushed off the lock of hair that had fallen on her face.
"Do you always do this?" she asked quietly moments later with her eyes still closed; he had woken her up.
"What?"
"Watch women you sleep with sleep?"
"Not always; just you."
She smirked and her eyes opened. They looked at each other for a while, at ease and satisfied. Talking about Malfoy was the farthest thing from his mind.
Across from him, feeling no compulsion to move, Hermione looked into his green eyes and was pleased with what she saw. He was happy.
"Good morning," Harry broke their silence.
"Good morning," Hermione replied.
He made a move to kiss her and sensed her pull back.
"You don't like to kiss in the morning?" he asked.
"It's not that. Um...I have morning breath," she admitted, embarrassed as if it was some communicable sexual disease.
He laughed, leaned in and kissed her, licking his lips after, smiling, teasing, "It's pretty bad but I think I can live with it."
She was about to protest but whatever it was she was going to say got drowned by another kiss, this time more tender and sweeter, causing pleasant fluttering sensations deep within her. She could only kiss him back and they lost themselves in the moment. By the time they were done she was on her back and Harry was up on his side, supported by his arm, a leg lightly draped over hers, looking very content as he gazed down.
"How was last night?" he asked.
"How was last night?" she asked him back.
"I asked first," he pointed out.
She gave in and answered, "Good."
"Good?" he frowned.
"Uh-huh. Good," she repeated.
"Just 'good'?"
"Sorry, I was a bit preoccupied and you didn't mention anything about an evaluation. Had I known I had to do one I would have taken notes."
"Really…I would settle for something other than 'good'."
"Like what?"
"Marvelous? Extraordinary? A once in a lifetime experience?"
"You're so modest."
"It's a curse."
"Fine. It was all of those."
It was and more.
"I knew it," he grinned.
"Although I didn't expect it to be so, what's the word…raunchy."
He laughed and she did, too.
"And how was it for you?"
"Amazing. Simply amazing," he said to her seriously before adding with a hint of mischief in his eyes, "Now, about your complaint…"
"Who's complaining? I don't mind raunchy, once in a while."
"I can make it up to you."
He lifted the sheets up and peered underneath it, basking her nakedness with his attention. She let him, trying not to squirm away or blush. It was hard not to.
"You're supposed to be working."
"You didn't seem to care about that last night," he accurately pointed out.
Inch by inch, he slowly pulled off and got rid of the covering, then unhurriedly grazed the length of her neck and shoulder with his lips, soft stubble brushing against her skin lightly as he did.
"Isn't somebody coming to take over for you?"
"I most certainly hope not," he worked his way to the other side and nibbled her ear. She felt 'pretty good', "I find the concept of sharing you with someone else quite unappealing."
"If someone sees you could get in trouble."
Her hands made their way under his shirt and started languidly stroking firm, hard muscles.
"We have time. We won't need much."
She could tell he was grinning and thoroughly enjoying himself as she was.
"I should take a shower."
He chuckled, "Yes, now we're talking."
"No," she chuckled back, realizing what he was thinking.
"Why not? I can help," he had stopped his ministrations briefly to look at her, his eyes were dancing with naughtiness.
"You're incorrigible."
With one motion he took his shirt off and covered her with his body where the sheets used to, his taut muscles feeling harder against her bare chest than she remembered. They made love again this time gentler than the night before.
"So, this wanting to love me for the rest of your life; when did this come about?" he inquired right after.
They lay in bed, bodies entwined. She nested her back comfortably against his warmth and he cradled her in his arms, holding her from behind.
"Sometime last year, a few days before my wedding day," she answered vaguely as she was distracted by guilt again.
He recognized her unease.
"If you don't want to talk about it…"
"We should," she said with resolve. "We need to."
And talk they did. It seemed easier to do so without looking at each other. She talked and listened with her eyes closed, sensing that he was doing the same, each soothed by their tranquil factual exchange, telling their stories without the charged emotions that made it all more complex and it already was. She told him about the days just before and up until Ron's death and he did the same.
They were as honest as they could be.
He wanted her to understand why he did what he did and admitted that as much as he had regrets about how much he hurt her and Ron, if not for that night as Roy, he would have never realized that it was her who made him feel alive and connected, who made him feel human, who made his existence matter or at least made him feel that way. He would have never found out that she was unhappy and would have never been emboldened to think that he could make her happier.
She wanted him to understand what Ron did to make her feel so guilty, including how she thought Ron killed himself because she had broken up their engagement. She told him about the nightmares and the voices that interrupted whenever she thought about him, how she tried to run from them because she couldn't deal with them, what she tried to do to keep herself from wanting to be with him and how she failed.
After he heard this, he moved over her and settled on the other side of the bed. She opened her eyes to meet his concerned ones.
"Are you still having them?" he asked about the voices.
"Not since I talked with him last night."
"You told Ron about it. That's what he meant when he said to ignore him."
"Uh-huh."
"That's a good sign; that you're not hearing them anymore."
She murmured an incoherent agreement, instinctively breaking eye contact for a split second, not yet knowing why she did not want him to know that it was and it wasn't. The guilt was still there and now it was missing the company of the chastising voice she deserved, making her feel guilty even more. There was no end to this. At that point she realized that it did not matter that Ron had forgiven her, had told her to move on, and had given his blessing to be with the man she loved. She had to find a way to forgive herself.
Harry must have caught it.
"Do you still think he killed himself?"
"No, I don't."
She didn't. It was just odd that knowing that was not much of a relief. It should have been.
"Can I ask you something else about last night?"
"Go ahead."
"When you said you were sorry, what were you sorry about?"
"A few things."
"Like?"
"Shutting you out all that time."
"What else?"
"Making you think I was angry because of what you did."
"Any more?"
She paused and thought about her next answer, making sure he would not misunderstand.
"That you weren't Roy Hunt that night before the Quidditch Finals."
"Why?"
"Because if you were, Ron wouldn't have been hurt as much. He wanted to find out how I felt about Roy and instead found out how I felt about you. I don't think he expected it," she didn't notice the tears that started to stream silently down her face from the same overwhelming feelings that brought them down last night the first time she realized what Ron did. She continued, "He looked at me the day after and asked me what my final decision was. He still wanted to marry me despite that. And I told him I couldn't and that it wasn't because of you."
"I kept telling him what happened between us wasn't about you. I've been telling myself the same thing. In a way it wasn't, because I had decided after Toronto that if I could do that with a stranger then I shouldn't marry him. But really, even if it was not about being with you, it was about you. I went out with Roy because he reminded me of you. I couldn't marry him because I didn't love him anymore. I couldn't marry him because I loved you."
She cried in his arms for some time, her remorse for how Ron found out and how she caused him so much pain fed her guilty conscience even more. It was a relief to be able to talk about it freely with someone else, more so because it was with him. He knew not to say anything, he knew that all she needed was for someone to listen and hold her.
When the sobs finally abated, she let Harry help her shower as he had offered. Warm water sprinkled and cleansed them both, washing away everything except for the emotional stains that she was certain would remain forever.