A/N. More clues...don't blink.
Chapter 52 - The Black Connection
A couple of hours ago…
It was 9 am. Dean stepped into the London Auror Office still banged up from his encounters with the two-headed snake and the giant plant. He missed being a Hit Wizard already. On his way to the coffee machine he got flagged by Kingsley and begrudgingly veered off course.
"We got the book back," Kingsley said, closing the Head Auror's office door behind him.
THE book, the one that almost cost him twin snake bites.
"So what's in it?" he stood in front of the desk as Kingsley walked around, pulled it out of the right bottom drawer.
"Meetings, appointments, notes."
Kingsley tossed it to him and he caught the small tome between his hands. How many appointments could a hermit like Snape have? Browsing through its leaves he got his answer quickly. Snape was one busy recluse.
"Last entry was two months ago," Kingsley said.
Dean started reading. Two sets of initials stood out.
"TT and NL?"
"Read the notes carefully. Find us some names to work with."
XXXXXXXXXX
Harry listened to Hermione and didn't know what to say. While he knew she had a lot of guilt surrounding the incident last year, he had no clue she thought Ron killed himself and that she blamed herself for his death. With a better understanding of why she had been the way she was, he held her as she cried. It was just about the only thing he could do. He did not trust his voice either and feared he would make things worse.
They had just finished possibly the longest shower he had had in his life and he was standing behind her in front of the bathroom mirror. He had to ask.
"What can I do to help?"
She looked back at his reflection and replied, "You're already doing it."
He wasn't convinced and she recognized his unease. She turned to face him and reiterated.
"Harry, really, you are."
"You will let me know if there's anything else I can do, right?"
"Of course, I will."
He left her to finish. As he got dressed there was a knock on Hermione's door. He peered through the peephole, recognized the visitor but had to confirm identity.
"Yes?" he asked.
A tray of coffee cups came into view.
"Room fucking service," she answered dryly.
It was Andy alright. He magically unlocked the door and let her in.
"She's in the washroom," Harry answered before Andy could ask and then pointed out to her, "You didn't have to knock."
"I couldn't assume that you were decent," came her quick reply.
Andy walked past the invisible barrier to the other room, motioning him to follow her. Setting the coffee tray down on one of the unused desks, she took a couple of cups from it and handed one to him. Both of them took slow, careful sips as he waited for the questioning he was about to be subjected to.
"So, how was it?" she finally asked.
"Good."
He couldn't help but smile remembering Hermione said the same thing.
"Feeling better?"
"Much."
"Good."
"Thanks. For backing off."
"Glad to be of help. I couldn't stand all that tension anymore. But I must say, when we talked about keeping your head in the job, I didn't imagine you were meaning to do that quite literally," she jested tongue-in-cheek.
He smiled.
"Very funny. How long have you been waiting to say that?"
"All fucking night," she admitted. "You were supposed to call me when you were done."
"I wasn't until you got here and calling you then would have been pointless."
"Smartass," Andy muttered, "You're grinning like an idiot, by the way."
He knew and didn't care. Andy continued with another question as more coffee warmed his stomach.
"How did it go with the Ghost?"
"Better than I expected," he replied, then told her about the case related parts of their meeting, "I think he knows exactly what happened."
"So why not just tell you?"
"Because he's bitter and wants to give me a hard time. He said something about his old keeper gloves, something about hidden plays which I know don't exist," and then he lowered his voice, "I got the feeling that whatever I find in them he doesn't want Hermione to know about."
"Where are they?"
"With Pfaff."
"The Ex-Cannon Beater?"
"He lives in Toronto now. I'll find out when I can see him once we get Hermione to the Ministry."
"Do you still think it was Floyd?"
"More than ever," Harry replied. "When are we moving in on Malfoy?"
Andy hesitated and measured him up. From the looks of it she had bad news.
"Spill it," he said, not wanting to waste time.
"We're having a bit of trouble with the warrants."
"What!?"
"We're getting stonewalled at Legal," Andy said to him, "He must know someone there. They're giving us crap about how we got the information that he was in the pub and about why we're wasting resources following a perfectly law abiding citizen."
Harry tossed his now empty cup in the rubbish bin and swore, "But we act on hunches all the time! This shouldn't be any different!"
"Relax. I know that, Jack knows that. Jack's working on it."
"Malfoy was seen with a wanted criminal! What more does Legal want before they allow us to question him?"
"Something they call 'due process'. I'm not a fan myself but they're apparently pretty big on it."
"Well they can shove that because there's more."
He recanted how he found Floyd's real name while reading the Malfoy file she got from her source in Detroit and the possibility that the two were related. Andy wasted no time, got on the phone and relayed his discovery of the Watermans to Jack. She appeared to be listening to instructions, nodding as she did.
"Okay," she said to him when she hung up, "The story is you got an anonymous tip to look into the Watermans of San Francisco and that's how we got Malfoy's name. We can speculate it was a call from the Bruins. Jack's getting another permit to search and interrogate based on that."
Harry swore again. Their random unofficial investigation into Malfoy was giving them so much grief. He wasn't thinking about lawfulness when he sent Leo off to find him. Any good counsel could make all the information they got from finding Malfoy with Floyd inadmissible so much so that he could actually slither his way out of this on a technicality. Harry would hate it very much for that to happen.
"I hope you haven't told her about Malfoy possibly being the Potion Master."
"I haven't. Why shouldn't I?"
He really did not want to have this conversation with Andy again.
"I would think that was obvious."
"You think she'll tip him off?!"
"She tipped you off about where he was last night."
"She didn't. I overheard..."
"She tipped you off without knowing it," Andy corrected him, "That's even worse."
While Andy had a point he firmly believed Hermione wouldn't, "I trust her. She'll be careful. She knows what's at stake."
"Is she a good Occlumens? What if he slips her Veritaserum when she's not looking? And I hate to be the one to point this out to you but she was going to Mexico with him, drinking tequilas and dancing all night, remember?" he winced, "You don't really know how close they are. You're assuming too much that just because she slept with you she's going to believe and do whatever you say."
There was truth to that he would never publicly acknowledge. And not that it mattered last night but Hermione never really answered his question about whether or not she had slept with Malfoy.
"The evidence is there. She'll see it," he said with certainty, "If Malfoy is the Potion Master then she has to know what's coming so she can protect herself. And the more informed she is the more she can help us."
"Fine. This is your case and your case to blow. Tell her whatever you want, just be prepared that she may see things differently."
Andy broke off their conversation as Hermione came out the bathroom. In his gut he believed telling Hermione everything was the best thing to do. He wasn't too worried that Hermione would give Malfoy information. What Harry was most concerned about was how she would take the news and how he would react to it. What if Hermione continued to refuse to believe that Malfoy was involved in all of this?
It took another twenty minutes before they left her room. On their way down they got on the same lift they came up on last and it brought back memories of the night before. One look and the ride unexpectedly became more intimate between them than what Andy would have wanted to witness. It was regrettably abbreviated as they went from twenty four non-stop to the underground parking garage.
By the time they got to the Ministry it was almost 9am. The House of Magic that occupied the ground floor was just opening up for business to the Muggle public. Starving, he suggested breakfast at the Ministry cafeteria just beside it. Andy begged off and volunteered to start looking for potential Bruins in the conference participant list. She didn't want to be around when Harry told Hermione about Malfoy but gave him a cautionary look as she left.
They took a booth overlooking busy Queen Street and discussed the case over bacon and eggs. They talked about Ron and Dennis for a bit, the Bruins and when they were almost done eating (purposely timing it that way), he told her about how Ginny thought Lestrange might be in it because of the Janus Prophecy.
Harry wasn't surprised that Hermione knew about the obscure Hufflepuff prediction or that she guessed where he was going with it.
"Ginny thinks Lestrange believes Draco is the Grey Warlock and you both think Draco is the Potion Master," she summarized accurately.
Hermione didn't look upset and that was troubling. He anticipated she would immediately ask for proof and either come to Malfoy's defense or join him and Ginny on the other side. Hermione never sat on the fence so despite appearances he knew that what he said disturbed her and deduced that she was keeping this from him because she was siding with Malfoy.
He made his disappointment transparent.
"There's a lot more that you should know about him."
"It's obviously not good. Maybe you shouldn't tell me."
"I have to."
"Andy disagreed," she guessed correctly.
"She thinks you might compromise the case."
"She's right. I could."
"You need to know so you can protect yourself."
"I don't want us to argue about Draco."
Was it really hard for her not to call him by his first name?
"Believe me, neither do I."
And we wouldn't if you just saw him for who he is.
"So let's not."
"But you're wrong about him and if arguing about him is what it takes to convince you of it then we're going to have to!"
Frustration took over civility and he didn't realize that he had raised his voice until Hermione stopped talking and looked at him, brows raised, lips pursed.
"Just hear me out," he calmed down enough to ask, to plead, "Please."
She measured the situation and after a while finally acceded. Harry narrated everything he knew about Malfoy, what Ginny said last night about the Janus prophecy and why they thought he could be the Potion Master. He told her about the Waterman-Floyd-Malfoy connection, his theory about Floyd being related to Lestrange and the ferret and the fact that he was seen having a drink with Floyd at a pub last night. He watched her as she listened and her expression continued to be unreadable.
"We're picking him up for questioning," he paused and waited for her reply. When none came he asked, "What do you think?"
"It doesn't matter what I think. You have to work the case as you see fit and do your job. You can't let me influence that."
He knew better to leave her answer at that but he wanted to hear her tell him exactly where she stood.
"But what do you think?"
Realizing that he would not let her get off that easily, she replied, "I think you're right to follow the Tommy Waterman lead and ask Draco about his involvement with the suspect."
"And him being potion master?"
"You need more proof," came her succinct reply. He did not miss how Hermione was choosing her words very carefully. She continued, "Harry, don't feel obliged that you have to tell me everything about the case particularly if it concerns Draco."
"You don't want to know?" he couldn't believe his ears.
"You found him with Floyd because you heard us on the phone."
"Is that what you're sore about?"
"Should I be? Are you telling me you're purposely using me to get information against him?"
"No, of course not!"
"I thought so. Look, he's my friend. Just as you found out where he was last night through me he could find out things about your case the same way. I could compromise your investigation. Don't make me be that person to betray your trust or his."
"You're missing the bigger picture! Floyd's his drinking buddy! He's involved in all this!" he emphatically declared, annoyed he couldn't get closer both literally and figuratively.
"That's even more reason not to tell me things you don't want him to find out."
He was about to say something nasty when she got up from her seat and cut him off, resolute, "We're not arguing about him."
She leaned over, gave him a lingering kiss on the mouth and wandered into the House of Magic store, retrieving her now ringing phone from within her purse as she did. He left money on the table and followed her in. Her kiss reassured him and prevented jealousy driven conclusions over her siding with Malfoy but he was still simmering about her stubbornness on the matter. Why couldn't she see it? He was her friend?! The git was using her!
He could only think that she knew something about Malfoy that made her trust him more than was reasonable. He would ask her about it if not for the fact that the only reason he wanted to know was so he could discredit it. He was almost certain she would take offense if he did that. As he contemplated how to get through to her, he overheard chatter between the cashier and a Muggle customer.
"These just came in yesterday," the store clerk mentioned. "They're selling like pancakes. I believe you have the last of it."
"My daughter's birthday," the overweight balding man answered nervously, "The wife said to get some party favours."
There were two other men with him, one with a bag of merchandise walking towards the exit and the other pretending to browse the contents of the shelves a couple of aisles down, holding a smaller package. On the curb, a white van was idling, driver as antsy as the customer by the check-out counter.
"How old is she?"
"Uh, five, six."
"There's lots more in the store ...costumes, wands, broomsticks, loot bags..." the clerk offered.
"No, no these pretend potions should be fine."
Hermione was just getting off the phone. She was closer to the counter and something piqued her interest. He followed her gaze and noticed a familiar wooden box disappearing into a brown paper bag as the clerk packed the purchases.
"That'll be fifty dollars and seventy one cents."
He handed her three green bills.
"Keep the change."
"Wait!" Harry yelled out.
Everyone in the store turned in his direction and the fat man next to the cashier bellowed.
"It's Potter! Run for it!"
The goon right beside the exit took a couple of steps and promptly Disapparated with the large paper bag as the sound of a van speeding off registered in the background. The fat man tried to run but he tripped on Harry's Impedimenta spell, falling on his face. There was one more. He scanned quickly and, using the store security mirrors, found him three aisles down, bag still in one hand and reaching into his pocket with the other. Hermione stood a few feet away blocking his escape. Harry aimed his wand at a display of DVDs in front of him.
"Stupefy!"
Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Crash!
Harry's hex pierced and bore a hole straight through three units of shelves, hitting the third accomplice hard, sending him, his wand and brown bag flying up and back against a rack of ghoul costumes. Hermione summoned the brown bag he was holding before it hit the floor. The commotion brought the Hit Wizard on duty to the scene. Recognizing Harry right away, he secured the two prisoners and called for back-up.
He got to Hermione just as she opened one of the wooden boxes and it confirmed what he thought. Floyd was smuggling the potion in through the Ministry. That was unusually ingenious of him.
All in all they confiscated fifty phials. Floyd had two less men on his payroll; they were privates who were useless for information. The escapees would have already relayed the bad news to Floyd. Very soon his weakened defense would be fixed and reinforced. The London company that supplied the potions had been in business for less than a year and a quick check in the database showed that it was now closed. All signatories who at one point passed routine inspection were now bogus names.
That crime scene was quickly cleared. Harry took Hermione up a couple of levels to the Department of Mysteries where she was scheduled to help validate the contents of the potion. On the way she expressed how impressed she was by the Stunner he conjured to save her but also how disappointed she was that he did not leave the third guy for her to deal with. He apologized. She was teasing.
After reluctantly leaving her with the Unspeakables, he went straight to his desk and got a hold of Pfaff. The ex-Cannon was in transit but would be able to drop off Ron's keeper gloves at the Ministry later in the day. Exhaustion suddenly hit him. Sleep would be a good idea. He would need his energies for when he was on again later in the day but there were a few things he was waiting on that would not let his mind rest. Deciding to look into them, he made the short trek down the corridor to the Command Centre and found it bustling with activity. The team was following up several leads and getting preliminary reports from all over.
Harry found a couple of parcels in his name. He opened the one from Ginny first and quickly read the names over. Nothing struck him about it and thought for a moment, knowing he'd have to be discrete about the Bruin names because it wasn't supposed to exist. He pocketed it, intending to show it to Andy once they were outside the Ministry. It would be useful to compare to the conference participant list.
Kingsley's package contained the directory of Black relatives he requested. He went down the list and their last known whereabouts.
Waterman…Waterman…Waterman, Oak Park, Michigan…found it!
That bumped his heart rate up a good ten beats.
Sybilla Waterman, deceased
Married to Henry Waterman, deceased
Two sons, Theodore and Thomas, both deceased
The information was at most 75 per cent accurate. He read on and found out that Sybilla was a distant cousin of Bellatrix's and Narcissa's, descended from Arcturus Black's daughter, Callidora. Sybilla apparently moved to the States as a young witch and met her future husband there.
His elation must have been obvious for Andy joined him, looked over his discovery and gave him a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. Andy had more good news. Their query into the trail of magical creature ingredients had come back with initial results and they already had a combination match within a 50 mile radius from Malfoy's home address of last year.
Their mini-celebration was interrupted by Jack Muller's entrance into the room.
"Potter! Marsh! Come with me!"
It was understandable that with one day to go before the official start of the research conference and with Floyd still at large, Jack's nerves were quite frayed. They followed him into one of the observation rooms.
"He's here. Now what?" Jack asked them.
Across the glass window in the adjacent interrogation room, a bedraggled man with pale blond hair sat quietly by himself, his calm exterior incongruent with the annoyance in his grey eyes.
As if sensing his presence, Draco Malfoy looked up and stared icily at him.