Chapter XXI: Of Truths and Half-Truths
--
"I… I can't believe it's actually been six years," Hermione managed to breathe out in a choked whisper as the two sat in a bench staring up at an atrocious likeness of them and Ron in bronze.
"That's got to be the fucking ugliest shite I've ever seen," Harry scowled, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Normally I'd scold you for the language… but, God, you're right. I mean honestly, is this how you commemorate the anniversary of the end of the war, this blasted trophy?"
Harry shook his head disappointedly. "I just can't believe that it took Pope six years to complete it. Why waste so many years of your life on this shite?"
"I think that the plaque in front of it, that one there with his name below ours, would be the reason why," Hermione pointed out.
Harry rolled his eyes, his scowl deepening. "Does it really have to be almost three meters though?"
"I'd still rather stare up at this monstrosity all day than attend tonight's ball…" Hermione admitted with a sigh before a silence fell over them. Suddenly, however, Hermione took him by surprise by bursting out into a fit of giggles. "Sorry, but I was just thinking… you know what Ron first said when he heard about it?"
He sent her a curious look. "No, what?"
"'At least you know I'll be packing a hell of a knob if I'm that tall,'" she laughed. "Lord, I wanted to slap him when he said that… but still, it's just so…"
"Ron?" Harry tried.
"Yeah," she nodded with an impish smile. "I used to hate that about him, but I don't now… I'm growing to like the off-color jokes… in small quantities, of course."
Harry shrugged, uncrossing his arms and throwing one across the back of Hermione's seat. "It's true though… just imagine how big it must be, you know if we could see it…"
"When flaccid or erect?"
Harry turned to Hermione in surprise, an eyebrow cocked. "Why, Hermione Granger, I didn't know you had it in you!"
"What can I say, I'm learning from Ron," she told him with a proud beam.
--
"Hello, I need to speak to whoever acts as head of the hospital," Harry addressed the girl at the front desk, unable to help the chill of unease that ran through his body as he observed the… sanitary and sterile environment. There was something so daunting about how white it was and how it radiated of antiseptic. Just wasn't natural.
Harry was quickly pulled out of his reverie when Hermione elbowed him after noting how he'd gone off into la-la land, gesturing at the receptionist who still had her head bent over some book which he was willing to bet was a romance novel of some sort.
"Excuse me?" Harry repeated when she didn't say anything.
"Dr. Browning is unavailable, he's a very busy man and it should be obvious that you can't simply barge in and expect an audience with him," the girl haughtily snorted, still riveted by her erotica-or so he supposed.
Harry turned to Hermione with a cocked eyebrow, smiling a bit as he noted the way she gritted her teeth and sent the girl a glare that he was surprised she didn't drop dead from. Finally, Hermione rolled her eyes and actually knocked on the girl's head.
The girl-Matilda, he saw when she raised her head and her nametag became visible-looked up, positively aghast by Hermione's audacity, which had astonished even Harry.
Hermione, however, merely sent Matilda a challenging look, daring her to try her on. "You have a job to do, so I suggest you do it," Hermione stonily ordered. "Now, my partner needs your help, how about you go do that?"
The girl sent Hermione a furious look, scowling as she unwillingly turned to Harry. The pout, however, quickly turned to a look of awe once she recognized who it was before her. "Y-y-you're-" she stuttered.
"Yes," Harry dryly replied. "Now can I see Dr. Browning?"
She gasped, sending him an apologetic look that Hermione quickly rolled her eyes at, crossing her arms over her chest when she noticed the doe eyes the little strumpet, as Hermione liked to refer to her as, was sending Harry.
"Well, you see… the doctor is actually currently dealing with our annual audit and has asked to be left alone-"
"Well I highly doubt he was expecting Harry Potter to come, either," Hermione drawled, purposefully putting emphasis on his name in an attempt to hurry up the process.
"That… that is true," the girl nodded her head, still wide eyed with adulation.
"So don't you think he'd be most disappointed if you were to turn away Harry Potter," Hermione goaded, her voice laced with annoyance as Harry merely stood there, watching the scene unfold with blatant amusement.
"That is true…" the girl repeated.
"So can we go see him?… it's Auror business, too…"
"Well you two don't have an appointment."
"He's Harry Potter, many would say that's appointment enough," Hermione pushed.
"I… I... that is true…"
"So can you take us to him?" Harry finally, hopefully, interjected.
"Well, for you, anything," the girl smiled sweetly up at him and Hermione frowned.
And so, ten minutes late Harry and Hermione found themselves outside of an office, sending each other disbelieving looks as they listened to the commotion coming from inside.
"B-but Dr. Browning, if you'd give me a chance to explain-" they heard Matilda the receptionist stutter as she tried, and failed, to reason with her boss.
"No," he roared. "I told you to leave me alone so I can finish up this work. Honestly, I ask for one day of no interruptions, are you such an imbecile that you can't even handle that much?"
Hermione sighed, shaking her head disappointedly. "Go."
"Inside?"
She nodded. "One look at you and you know he'll let us in."
Harry scowled. "Fine, but you owe me."
"Don't be ridiculous, Harry," she laughed. "Just go," she pushed him off his seat and propelled him forward.
As Hermione sat outside she heard a surprised gasp that was quickly followed by another tirade. "Matilda, how could you keep Harry Potter of all people waiting outside? I mean, really, it's as if you have no sense of propriety."
"But I tried-"
"Shush," he cut her off. "Bring us some coffee and then leave us," he ordered and Hermione sighed, shaking her head, again.
When Matilda rushed out of the room she immediately turned to Hermione. "Go, go in, now," she said, waving her hands like a shepherd, Hermione couldn't help but note as she followed the girl's explicit directions.
"Hello," she greeted with a tight smile as she entered the room.
The doctor's already wide eye immediately became even larger, a feat which Harry hadn't thought possible. The man looked as if he was salivating. "Why Dr. Granger and Mr. Potter what brings you here?" he asked with a charming smile as he motioned for them to get comfortable after shaking both their hands and moving to sit back down in his own seat.
"Please, call me Hermione," she said, smiling. Harry, however, made no such offer.
"Oh… well thank you," the old man blushed and Hermione couldn't help but notice how such a frail and tiny man had quite the lungpower, given the beating he'd given Matilda only two minutes prior. "Yet I still cant help but be curious as to what I could possibly help you with?"
"I'm-we're," Harry corrected after a sharp look from Hermione. "Working on a case currently and I was hoping you could help me with a lead of ours."
"Well, gladly… anything for the two of you," he beamed as Matilda made her way into the office with three cups of coffee and plates of biscuits. "What information is it that you need?" he asked as he took a sugar cube and slowly mixed it into his coffee.
"We were hoping you could tell us about Andrea White."
Browning's actions stilled when he heard the name and his body immediately tensed. "Pardon?" he asked.
"Andrea White," Hermione repeated for Harry.
"Well… I mean, that's quite a peculiar case there, and I'm afraid that there are certain… how should I say… constrictions there."
Harry growled lowly, but deeply in his throat and Hermione subtly moved her hand to rest over his on the arm of his chair. "Doctor-"
"Ben, please," the man grinned.
"Ben," Harry repeated. "You are aware that by not giving us information you'd be holding up an investigation, right?"
"Well if you don't even have a warrant it's can't be that important," the man reasoned.
"We were hoping to keep this quiet… for everyone's sake, but if you'd like me to get one… well that can get a bit public, but it's no problem for me…" Harry drawled, looking over at Hermione to see her ducking her head to hide a small smile.
"Public?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so. This is a rather popular case with the papers…"
The man paused, his lips thinning as he considered his options. "I don't know much about her, though…"
"Then maybe you could point us towards someone who does, set up an appointment…"
He slowly nodded. "I can't give you her file though… the family…"
"We understand," Harry nodded. "But an appointment would be crucial then."
"Well okay, her doctor was Carroll, so I'll set that up and then contact you with the confirmation, I sup-"
Browning, however, was cut short by the distinct sound of "Bennie and the Jets" ringing through the office and Harry let out an exasperated breath as he pulled his hand out from under Hermione's and dug into his pocked for his WiziCell.
Looking down at the screen, he frowned. "I'm sorry, but if I could just be excused for a minute-"
"Oh, of course, it's no problem… I'd love to pick at Dr. Granger's brain a bit anyway," Browning smiled.
"Hermione," Hermione corrected with a small impish smile, causing the man to redden again as he enthusiastically nodded while Harry made his way out of the office.
Flipping his phone open when out of earshot from anyone, he spoke. "Buckley, you know I'm in the middle of a meeting with the head of the asylum, why are you calling me right now?" Harry brusquely demanded in a harsh whisper.
"Don't be a pretentious prat, Potter," Buckley immediately scolded. "I have a very good reason for calling-not that I should ever need one, given that I'm your superior and all."
Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. "What is it then?"
"There's been another hit, this time it was at the bloke's place."
Harry's eyebrows shot up far farther than he had ever imagined possible. "W-wait… what?" he sputtered.
"Colin Kelly was found in his friend's home… slaughtered. I need you to come now and stay for the sweep; it's 2-6 Notting Hill Gate."
"Aw, hell, Buckley," Harry leaned against a wall, dragging a hand through his hair as he let his head fall against the wall.
"You're telling me. Listen, I have to go now, but be there… fast."
"Yeah… sure, bye," Harry muttered before turning off his phone and heading back towards the office. Putting a charming smile on his face he reentered the room. "I'm sorry Doctor Browning, but I'm afraid that a small emergency came up and Hermione and I have to leave. Still, though, I just wanted to thank you for all of your help today… especially with setting up that interview with Ms. White's therapist, it's a tremendous aid on your part."
Hermione who was turned facing him cocked an eyebrow his way, her face amused, before shaking her head slightly as she turned towards Browning. "It was a pleasure to meet you, sir, and, like Harry said, thank you so much for all of the help," she smiled, extending her hand to shake his.
"Well… it was no problem, honestly, it was my pleasure. I can just imagine what my son will say when I tell him I met the two of you, he's quite the fan Ms.-Hermione," he quickly amended, blushing ever so slightly as Hermione sent him a smile before waving as she passed Harry, who had been holding the office door open.
Once they were both outside of the office and out of earshot from the doctor she turned to him with a curious look. "What happened?"
"There's been another hit, we have to go patrol the sweep."
"Oh, lord," Hermione gasped, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers as she let him lead her.
"Yeah, I know, could this day get any worse?" Harry questioned with a groan.
"Sorry," Hermione offered her condolences with a sympathetic sigh, squeezing his hand a bit as he led her towards the hospital's appiration point.
--
"Hey, Harry?" Hermione timidly asked him as they swayed on the dance floor.
"Yeah?" Harry asked.
"With… with the monument unveiling, the anniversary ball and everything, I can't help, but think about the end of the war and, more importantly, well everything that followed it, and… and…"
"Yes?" he goaded, tightening his hold on her just a smidge as he steeled himself for whatever was to come.
"I just… I have to ask. Did… did it really make everything better for you?" she asked, her voice dying as she spoke.
He swallowed a huge lump in his throat, taking a deep breath as he tried to find the words to properly reply.
"Harry?" Hermione asked a minute later and he couldn't help, but wince when he heard the tremor of fear in her voice-fear that maybe she'd offended or hurt him.
"I'm still here," he assured her, his voice raspy. "No… it didn't make things better, but… well it sure made things easier."
She tightened her hold on him, too, moving closer so their bodies were only a hairsbreadth apart. No longer were they dancing so much as just standing there in the middle of the dance floor, hugging and oblivious to everything else.
"How?" she finally asked.
He shrugged. "I… it was nice to be able to forget, to be ignorant and happy."
"You didn't look happy though."
"But I was happier than I was when without it."
She wasn't able to contain the gasp that escaped her lips after hearing that, and her first reflex was to squeeze him even more, repeatedly whispering in his ear: "I love you, thank you for coming back to us."
For the rest of the song, and the following two, she just stood there holding him and repeating those words over and over again.
--
"I'll go see the body, you get the details?" Hermione confirmed as they made their way through the security measures blocking off the entrance to the townhouse.
"You won't need help with notes?" he asked as he moved a piece of tape, lifting it so she could pass under before he let himself through.
She stopped just at the end of the entrance, turning to him with a small, sweet smile. "I'll be fine, promise," she squeezed his arm softly, reassuringly at the last word before walking off to find direction towards the corpse.
"Be careful with that one, mate… she's got the whole innocent vixen vibe about her, not safe for us… gives you the wrong impression, gives her the upper hand…" Sam ranted with a small shiver at the end to further emphasize his point.
Harry, however, merely rolled his eyes as he turned to face his peer. "You're a hell of an arse, Ludlum. You very well know we've beet friend most of our lives so let's not pull the `women are manipulative and coercing bitches' speech this time."
"I'm just trying to be a mate… warn you off and all that, you were looking pretty… love struck there," Sam defended, scrunching his nose a bit in distaste as he neared the dreaded "L-word". "She's got you wrapped around that delightful little finger of hers."
Harry groaned. "Oh god, don't make this dirty, please. Anyway, get on with the report-I'm guessing that's way you came here."
"Well that and the fact that you're pussy whipped…"
Harry growled. "Sam."
Sam rolled his eyes petulantly. "Well if you're going to get bitchy then fine, we'll play it your ol' boring way."
"Just get to it," Harry ordered through gritted teeth, clinching his fists as he held back the all-consuming urge to strangle Sam. Truly, there was only so much he could take from the ever-cheerful bloke who never knew how to shut up.
"Well there were quite a few security measures here that have Kelly's magic marker all over it. It was rather advanced magic so I'm guessing he had someone teach them to him or something because based on what I've heard of him he's a whoring imbecile and, really-"
"Back on topic, Sam," Harry reminded as he moved through the house, slowly eying everything to see if anything seemingly innocuous might catch his eye. It didn't.
"Right. Well it looks like he knew he'd be the next target, if that helps at all…"
Harry nodded, ending Ludlum a thankful nod. "It does, might help us with a lead even," he assured. "Is anything different though?"
"Well we still can't recognize the magic marker that broke through this, I think it might be because from what we can see some fairly basic spells were used-"
"Basic?"
Sam shrugged. "I've read over some of those reports from Granger and looked at the magazine issue she mentioned, it was actually pretty interesting, I've got my self a new subscription to it-"
"Sam, what does your reading preference have to do with this case?"
"Oh, right… well according to the same author of that exact same issue, just another article… I think it was in one of the replied to the last issue, actually, where he made this argument-"
"Sam, tell me something I care about," Harry ordered in a low, but dangerously promising tone.
Sam sent him a sheepish smile. "Right, well with the right calibration it's possible and less detectable so whoever did this could also manage to put a masking incantation over this."
Harry blew out a deep breath. "Yeah… I think Hermione mentioned something about that possibility once…"
Sam smirked. "Think?"
Harry shrugged, grinning weakly. "I'm tired, give me a break."
"Right, mate. Well one thing you might want to note… the only other difference I could find."
"Yeah?"
"She kissed his forehead."
Harry cocked his head. "You found DNA… anything?"
"Nope, just a red lipstick mark. I think she's taunting us, not him… I think she might be mocking us…"
Harry nodded slowly as he turned towards the bedroom and looked at the massacred body, sighing. "Well if she is then she's doing a hell of a job at it, don't you think?"
--
"What is your main motivation to move on, Harry?" Andersen asked from, what Harry believed to be, out of nowhere.
"In what way?" he asked with a yawn.
"Be a better person, move past your addiction, get your life back together," Andersen listed.
"I don't know."
Andersen closed his eyes, gritting his teeth together. "yes, you do, so please don't insult me by putting on any fake pretenses now."
"But I don't know… I mean, I guess part of it is for me… then also I feel guilty for what I've put everyone through-"
"By everyone," Andersen cut in, "I assume you mean Hermione."
"Well… her more so than others, I'll admit."
"What's your main reason then, Harry?"
Harry didn't reply so Andersen continued to goad him. "Harry?" he repeated. "You can't just randomly put up walls like this, I deserve better than that from you, I believe."
"Yes," Harry admitted, his voice croaky." Yes, you do."
"Then would you kindly reply to my question?" Andersen pushed.
"Hermione… I want to make her proud."
"I thought so," Andersen sighed. "That… you need to realize, Harry, how unhealthy that is."
"Why?"
"She can't be your main motivation, you have to do this for yourself."
"But I am."
"Above all others," Andersen clarified. "It may sound selfish and self-serving, but, Harry, you need to be comfortable in your own skin, that's part of where this mess all started anyway. You need to find your niche, not the niche that others expect of you."
"Andersen," Harry gruffly cut in, staring down his therapist with an intensity that the man had never before witnessed from the boy.
"Yes?" he asked, clearly intrigued.
"I am doing it for myself… my `niche' that you're referring to, it's with her, I know it… I just want to be good enough so that she'll let me find it in her and that I won't… so I won't always be afraid of disappointing her. I want to feel comfortable and safe if I get the chance to be with her…"
--
"I don't like this, Harry," Buckley suddenly pulled Harry out of his trance.
His eyebrows pulled together as he turned to his boss in surprise. "Chief, what are you doing here?"
"Honestly? wanted to see it myself, figure out what the fuck is taking so long… what the hell makes it all so complicated that no one has a definite answer yet."
Harry raised a brow. "Technically, someone had the answers… we just couldn't take full advantage of them…"
"But they don't," Buckley retorted motioning to the horde of people in the room. "Over twenty people here compiling notes and taking samples, but what the hell do we have to show for it? The public is so far from getting antsy, Harry. They're fucking hysterical by now, questioning our department's efficiency… where tax payer money is going…"
Harry shrugged. "Want me to host another press conference?"
The corner of Buckley's lips pulled upwards ever so slightly at that offer. "Thanks, Harry, but it won't be enough this time… I'm getting pressure from all sides, and we're looking at severe budget cuts if we can't bring forth better statistics. It's fucking ridiculous, honestly, but…"
"Politics."
"Yeah," Buckley nodded. "We… we need this finished as fast as you can, Harry… I'm serious, I'm pulling you off of all your other cases and same with the girl you fancy-"
"It's not like-"
Buckley sent him a condescending look. "Kid, I'm too old for bull shit, just learn when to shut up. The inter-office liaison shtick… been there done that, can't judge so long as you don't let it get in the way here. Point is, I need you to pull out all the stops here… really, Harry, the department needs this… I need this. The audit isn't going well, we're looking at a twenty-five percent cut in funding at the moment."
Harry's eyes widened slightly. "Fuckers."
"Yeah," Buckley nodded. "I'm going to go out now, the reporters are starting to flow in so I'll release a statement then go back to the office to work on reassignments on your Marlette case."
"Send Donahue on that one, he's good with sensitive cases," Harry advised.
"I'll be sure to do that then, he doesn't have anything too big at the moment anyway. Night, Harry."
"Bye," Harry waved.
--
author's note: this one was a bit of a filler, I know, but kind of crucial in setting the stage for the penultimate moments. Hope it was okay, at least.
I couldn't quite get through writing this chapter, probably because I found it so dull between preparing for the real drama, etc. but I was listening to Portugal. The Man, more importantly People Say, and I felt astoundingly inspired to write this chapter out of nowhere. (Recommend the band for any indie lovers, by the way, genius band that's also amazing live, sound exactly like they do on disc.)
Please review.
p.s. authors: Pope, Browning, and Carroll.
p.p.s. LIVERPOOL FANS: who else was as crushed by the announcement of Xabi Alonso's transfer as I was? I
was checking the site every five minutes today for an update since I knew Rafa was meeting with real officials
yesterday, but I was still kind of hoping… the team definitely wont go as far as I'd hoped now…
Thank you to my beta, Searcy, for all of the help.
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