A/N. To the brave hearts who have returned to read more, bear with me while I introduce new characters and re-acquaint you with some of Jo's.
Thanks to those who left notes of encouragement. I do confess that I will be making most of the story up as we go along and would appreciate feedback about story direction.
Here's what Harry's been up to. Note that I've pushed the story back fourteen hours prior to Chapter 1.
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Chapter 2 - Death in Knockturn Alley
Fourteen hours earlier, Knockturn Alley, London
It was just before 8 a.m. Harry Potter crouched down and ducked under the yellow magical veil that delineated the crime scene from public access. His black messy hair was messier that usual and his green eyes were tired and bloodshot. He did not get much sleep last night and a dead body first thing Monday morning was not his idea of a good start to the week.
"Harry, over here!" a middle aged wizard with sparse hair and a walrus mustache called out to him from amongst the group of white coated people from Forensics.
"Hank," he greeted as he got closer, "What do you have?"
Henry 'Hank' Trussel was his Deputy and was one of the first to arrive on the scene. From the brief conversation they had about fifteen minutes ago Harry was told that the Magical Law Enforcement got a distraught call from one of the shop employees about finding the owner "cold and stiff" behind the counter. Harry followed Hank's gaze over to the still figure on the floor currently surrounded by the lab rats. Definitely cold and stiff.
"Blutus Borgin, 92, shop owner. According to the smart pretty lady over here he probably croaked sometime Saturday night, likely from a death curse."
Harry met the annoyed look of the 'smart pretty lady' Hank was making a pass at and nodded with his apologies.
"Jessie."
"Harry."
Chief Forensics Officer Jessica Hewitt was about five foot five, of average built, a couple of years older than he was, had kind grey eyes and graying blonde shoulder length hair. They had worked together on many cases for many years. She was irritated at Hank for flirting and was warning Harry to keep the veteran Auror away from her.
"Anything interesting?"
"I'm not done. When I am you'll be the first to know."
Translated, she was telling him and his team to back off.
Harry nodded a second time and gave her some space. He turned towards his deputy, looked around the shop and immediately noticed the obvious. The shelves were bare.
"Another robbery," Harry concluded; there had been two already before he went away for the weekend.
Hank agreed, "Same m.o. The geezer lived above the store. He must have heard something and walked in on the thieves."
The door to the back where the stairs to the second floor were was indeed behind the counter. It was possible that he walked in while the crime was in progress, except Harry knew for a fact that old Blutus was as deaf as a doorknob. He knew the wizard, having cased him earlier in his career. Borgin was a paranoid ass who never went anywhere without a holstered wand. The guy showered with it, peed with it, fucked with it.
"Did he have a wand on him?" Harry asked.
"Crooks must have taken it."
Maybe, but Hank was sometimes sloppy.
"Check his room, left side table drawer."
Harry just scanned and already knew it was there. So the old man was roused from sleep intentionally, taken down here because they needed him for something. Maybe.
"Where's the store safe?"
"In the wooden panel behind the register. It was cleaned out."
The thieves must have needed Borgin to open the safe. Harry took his wand out and examined it, looking for any hint of sophisticated magical charms and protections. There were none. It was the same safe as the others that were robbed but those ones the thieves blasted the locks off and during those ones, there were no deaths. Why get the old man to open this one and then kill him?
"Do we know what was in it?"
"Employee who found him doesn't know. I've sent Lupin to inform Borgin's partner and ask."
They could ask Caractacus Burkes Jr. but that was no guarantee they would get an honest answer. The shop owner clearly would not admit to missing any illicit magical artifact and whatever was in the safe was likely to be against the law. It was a pain but they'd have get Legal on their side and drag the seventy year old in for interrogation. Great. The day was shaping up to be a humdinger.
There was a sudden crash near the entrance. A coat rack had been accidentally toppled over and shattered the glass display case it fell on. Beside it rookie Auror Ted Lupin was red as he apologized profusely, his usual teal hair matching the flushed color on his face. Harry laughed inwardly as Ted repaired the damage, remembering his godson's Mum and how clumsy she was too.
"Well?" Hank, who never knew Nymphadora Tonks Lupin because he joined the London Aurors after Voldemort, asked Ted impatiently.
"Old man said it was empty. He was obviously lying."
The kid was sharp for a rookie. Harry would have never accepted him into the force had he thought he did not have what it took to be a good Auror. Hank did not like smart rookies. They made him look bad.
"Get Legal to get his ass in for questioning," Hank ordered him.
"Done," the young man said plainly. His wife's uncle, Percy Weasley, was in Legal. "He's back at the office in room one. I figured you'd want to do it your..."
"Yeah, can it. Let's go."
Ted followed his senior partner after saying goodbye to Harry and Disapparated just outside the store.
"Harry," Jessie called out, "I may have something for you."
He went over to where the dead body was and watched the CFO as she lifted it up magically, rotating him while keeping him afloat in the air.
"What do you see?"
She asked and he looked. Jessie liked doing this, putting Aurors on the spot because often times evidence was second hand when they got to her office and an observant Auror could pick things up forensics might not. He liked it too because it made him think and he saw what she was seeing. The purplish red discoloration of lividity was present even in body parts that were in contact with the floor. They were noticeable absent around his wrists and ankles.
"He didn't die on the floor but was bound at the wrists and ankles around the time he passed on," Harry said to her.
She nodded, "I'll check more closely once I'm in the lab and let you know what else I find. I suspect he was tied up before he was AK'd then moved here for show more than twelve hours after he was actually dead."
"Interesting," Harry muttered, questions that needed answers coming to mind.
"Interesting indeed."
As Forensics carried on with the investigation he went back to the Ministry. Like the CFO, the Head Auror wasn't expected to be personally working each case but he preferred field work to the more paper pushing, political and administrative functions that were now the bulk of his job.
He came out of the Apparition designated area and into the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Without thought, he reached into his pocket, retrieved from it a golden coin and was about to hand it off when he was surprised to find himself at the end of a long line of displeased customers. Strange. Thinking it an essential part of his day, he waited patiently and when he got to the front, paid for the morning edition of the Daily Prophet.
"Here you go, Mr. Potter," the tall, thick-chested hairy man behind the counter recognized him and handed him the news, wiping the sweat off his brow with a white handkerchief.
"Thanks. Keep it," he replied and the man promptly pocketed the hefty tip. Harry took the news bud, stuck it in his right ear and asked, "Where's Phil?"
"He was feeling under the climate," the substitute answered, serving an annoyed regular who was used to getting quicker service. "He should be back in a couple of days."
The news man turned away as the other customers growled impatiently, bemoaning the fact that Phil never missed a day of work in twenty years. Harry thought that almost impossible even if elves never got sick but had no proof that wasn't true so he walked away without saying anything. Substitute guy was doomed and wouldn't last the morning.
Good morning, Mr. Potter, a witch from the Dept of Mysteries nodded.
"Good morning," he greeted back.
"Harry," another man said to him.
"Miles," he responded, vaguely remembering the guy from Communications.
This was the usual every day. On his way to the lifts he passed by the Fountain of Hope, the imposing structure made of gold, silver and bronze that occupied the centre of the Ministry of Magic Atrium. A couple of visitors were gawking at the impressive magnified lifelike statues of magical and non magical children gathered around that of a bespectacled boy wizard with a wand in his hand. The statue's uncanny resemblance to a certain kid who survived the murderous intentions of a most evil wizard some twenty five years ago was not incidental and time did not lessen his discomfort of and dislike for the darn fountain.
Moving on and getting into the elevator, Harry politely returned the greetings from more co-workers, some of whom he didn't really know, and started watching and listening to the Daily Prophet news video. By the time he walked into his office his entire attention was on the headlines. He had been away for a couple of days and this was what greeted him back to work.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter."
Somebody said as he got to his near empty desk. He looked up. A tall, reed thin woman in a plaid skirt and ornate blouse had followed him in and set down a steaming fresh cup of coffee on the table. She wore on her face her trademark bland expression.
"Good morning, Leila. Thanks."
Leila Gennaro was his admin assistant, had been since he got the job about five years ago. She was organized, bright and much older than he was; by how much he never dared to ask. Leila was very effective at what she did and most importantly was thick skinned and insensitive to his volatile temper.
"You're welcome. How was the trip?"
"It was good. Just got in late last night."
"Mrs. Potter?"
"She's fine."
"And did you actually spend time away from work?"
"I actually did," he emphasized actually.
He made sure of it. He and Ginny needed that time together.
"I've kept your schedule light today," Leila did the usual morning summary of where he had to be and when, "You have Hank in an hour…"
"An hour?" Harry protested.
He just met with Hank but after seeing the news that wasn't going to be soon enough. A heads up from him this morning would have been nice. The Deputy he left in charge needed some ass kicking for bungling the investigation that was now all over the news.
"An hour, so you can settle down and he doesn't come out of your office threatening to resign."
"He should stop threatening and just do it."
Leila knew he would be harsh but calmer now he realized he didn't want to pull Hank out of an interrogation because he was impatient about setting him straight.
"He's the only one interested in filling in for you when you're away. You need him so you can have a life," Leila reminded him.
"Leila, we all know this is my life," Harry said about himself condescendingly, half joking but it was not entirely untrue.
"A shame, Mr. Potter. A shame indeed," she reprimanded but knew it would fall on deaf ears, "The Minister has you for half an hour at eleven."
He listened and when Leila stopped talking he asked, "That's it?"
"You have a big fire to put out," Leila motioned to the news headline and closed the magical scheduler that linked to the one he had on his desk. "And an owl just came in from Hogwarts. I think it's from James."
Leila left his office and shut the door behind her. He walked over to the owl feeding station and retrieved the letter from the Hogwarts carrier. Parchment in hand, Harry sat on his chair and turned it around to look out the window, his gaze looking past the magnificent view of Muggle London. Thinking about his children made him think about Ginny. Unlike her, he wasn't sure if they had done the right thing.
He opened the note and recognized his fifteen year old son's handwriting.
Dad,
Had a bit of a spill during practice. My Racer had a most unfortunate encounter with the Whomping Willow. Can I get a Speedster5000? The Slytherin team got seven from the Malfoys. Mum says it's okay if you're okay with it.
Your broomless son,
James
Ginny already warned him. James was using divide and conquer to get what he wanted, throwing in the Malfoy name for good measure, because he had a feeling that they would not approve his use of the professional grade broomstick. He made a mental note to discuss the matter with Ginny again later but scribbled back.
James,
I'll send you another Racer. Fast brooms are for slow flyers who don't want to learn. And I already spoke with your Mum. Nice try.
Love,
Dad
The Hogwarts owl zoomed off. Harry took a sip of his coffee and immersed himself into work, entering the information and his impressions about the Borgin murder on file for Hank and Ted to check out.
Once that was done he settled down to his morning routine. Harry accessed the department active files to keep abreast of what his command of a seventy-five Aurors were up to the days before. He usually looked at the cases by team quadrants starting with the busiest central core and fanning out to the east, north and west divisions. The Auror Office was recently hit by a spate of retirements and deaths that it was one in transition. Of the four, the Ron Weasley led North team, despite the trend of increased dark arts activity in the area, was the only one running as it should. Hank ran the busy central core while two relatively new leads, George Bones and Barry Greengrass, ran the East and West teams, respectively.
He turned his attention back onto the news headlines.
Mysterious Robberies : Aurors Baffled
Since leaving for the Bahamas Friday morning eight more magical artifact stores, an auction house and two major private relic collectors had been robbed clean. Something was definitely up and he was pissed that his deputy failed to inform him of the other robberies. Browsing through the facts and data they had, he felt his temper rise even more. There was nothing. No stolen items list, no possible suspects, no interviews with persons of interest, nothing! And why did Hank admit to the press that it was baffling?!
Harry checked the interrogation room and found every one of them empty. The questioning should be over by now. He engaged the intercom on his desk and as the light went on tried his best to keep his voice under control.
"Get Hank in here! Now!"
There was silence.
"Please."
"Certainly, Mr. Potter," his assistant answered professionally.
"And no calls," he added, "Please."
"As you wish, Mr. Potter."
Two minutes later Hank was in his office sweating uncomfortably under his pointed interrogation and reprimand about how the case was being handled. The veteran Auror had been Deputy for the previous Head. Hank was unhappy about being bypassed for the top position, particularly because ex Head Auror Hosiah Humptail groomed and recommended him. He did express to Harry his desire to remain second in command, to help with 'transition'. Some help. Maybe Harry was being paranoid but time and time again he felt that Hank wanted to stick around to see him fail.
"But Harry, we don't have any witnesses, the owners are tight lipped because the stolen items are illegal, and we don't know what's really missing..."
He interrupted, "What did you get from Burkes?"
"I wanted to talk to you about that," Hank said cautiously. More bad news, "He pulled some strings. Someone from within yanked Legal's approval and he was out of here before Lupin and I got back."
"Who was it?!"
"I don't have clearance…"
Harry slammed a fist on his desk, "I don't want excuses, I want answers! I'm calling an Auror meeting in an hour and you better have some good ones by then!"
They had similar conversations in the past and Hank knew that he was dismissed. As Hank left his desk phone started ringing.
The speakerphone went on and he barked into the receiver, "I said no calls!"
A woman's voice, not Leila's, came over the air
"Having a bad day already?"
He had no time for games. The caller's ID did not register.
"Who is this?"
The woman let out an amused chuckle. It was familiar and recognizable.
"I don't know if I should be embarrassed or insulted. I know it's been a while but I didn't think you would forget me so easily."
He calmed down, the scowl on his face changed into a cross between a smile and a frown as he imagined her grinning on the other line. The last time they spoke was at Christmas. He looked out the window. Had it really been that long?
"Hermione," saying her name, felt odd, having not spoken it for some time, "This is a surprise. How are you?"
"I'm good," she replied cheerfully, "And you?"
"I'm okay. It's been too long. Way too long. You've been avoiding me."
Again that easy laugh. He missed hearing her laugh.
"Of course not. I've been busy. I'm glad you liked the cloak."
She sent him an Asian Invisibility Cloak for his birthday. He left her messages thanking her for it but never got a reply.
"We missed you and Hugo at the party."
"It was a horrible summer for Hugo. He felt too ill to travel," she explained then steered the conversation away, "I see Hank is still making you look bad and angling for your job. Some things never change."
Some didn't and some did.
"Don't tell me you called just to warn me about backstabbing co-workers," he retorted.
"Well, there's that and I need a huge favour."
A favour. The last time Hermione asked him for a favour was, hell, it had either never happened or happened a long time ago he had no memory of it.
"What is it?"
"It's about Hugo. Can he stay with you for a week or so?"
His sixth sense tingled and he didn't say anything right away. The pause was awkward and pressured her to talk more.
"I spoke with Ginny and she's okay with it."
Really.
"Is everything okay?"
"Things are fine. We're hoping to have the school ready in time for a June opening next year. We're in the final stages of planning and I'll be in a lot of meetings over the next few days. Hugo will be bored stiff here. And I didn't want to burden Ron what with Anne just having the twins. I thought Hugo would be better off with you guys."
It was hogwash and she knew it. Why was she shoveling crap into his face?
"Shouldn't Hugo be in school? Shouldn't you just tell me what this is really about? Who's insulting whom now?" he wasn't mad, just disappointed.
There was silence then he heard her let out a long sigh.
"Okay. I'm sorry. I just didn't want you and Ron to worry."
"The lying is worrisome," that and the fact they had not spoken to each other in nine months. She must be in a real bind to ask him, "What's going on, Hermione?"
There was a slight hesitation in her voice.
"I don't know."
"Stop bullshitting."
"I honestly don't know but I'll find out more tonight. I just have a bad feeling and I don't want Hugo here or at school where he'll be by himself."
"What kind of trouble are you in?"
"I'm not," she answered immediately, "Really."
"Are you being harassed by bigots and zealots again?"
Hermione had been when the first Integrated School for the Magical and Non-Magical opened its doors somewhere in North America more than two years ago.
"No more than usual."
She was holding back and being stubborn about it. Harry put on a call tracer.
"I can be there..."
Sure he was in the middle of something but he could.
"I don't think that's necessary. It's just a precaution..."
Someone distracted Hermione on the other end, something about a meeting starting earlier than scheduled. Harry recognized the voice, tone and accent and immediately made him feel more unsettled. It was Warren. Ron did mention that she was working with him again.
"I'm sorry, Harry, I have to go," there was clearly increased anxiety in her tone, "So, can Hugo stay with you?"
"Of course..."
"Thanks a lot, Harry. I'll call you back later and we'll talk," her words gushed out of her mouth and she hung up.
The tracer came back. He swore while reading the information before him.
Head Auror's Office, London Ministry of Magic.
Hermione knew he would try to trace her whereabouts and had made the precautions so he wouldn't be able to. Worried, he was about to call Ron to ask him to get in touch with her quickly when he was buzzed by an emergency page.
There was another murder in Knockturn Alley. Caractacus Burkes Jr. was dead.