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As soon as Leo saw the knife, he knew. Perhaps he’d always suspected (how could he not?) but with that knife in her grasp, it was undeniable. Oh, Harry, he thought and immediately signalled to his thieves. This had already gone bad, and he could only see it going worse.
He kept one eye on the screen whilst the other kept careful track of the explosives. He hadn’t expected it to come to this, not really, but he was glad he’d been prepared.
He was going to do everything within his power to get her out of this or he wasn’t the king of thieves.
And then, she was gone, and the tournament was chaos, well even more so than it had been before, thanks to their perfectly timed explosion.
They had to wait a bit before they could leave, but it was nothing him and his thieves hadn’t gone through before. And they had nothing to do with the blood identity theft that had occurred.
Except… that wasn’t entirely true, was it? Furnishing Harry’s flat, going to it, making noise, everything else he’d done to make it seem she’d been living there for the past several years. He was an accessory.
It was a good thing he didn’t care much for wizarding law.
He was the king of thieves. What did the inane laws of the rest of the wizarding world matter to him?
And so if Leo just so happened to be standing by one of the evidence boxes when a certain knife went missing, well that was between him and the fool of an auror. Harry’s dad should really make sure they were trained better. Or perhaps it was a good thing considering he doubted the overprotective man wanted his daughter sent to Azkaban.
Did he know? Did anyone else know? The cousin, surely. But was that the extent of it?
Leo tossed the knife up in the air and caught it firmly in his hand. It was an incredibly foolish move for a fight — just gave your enemy a chance to get it away from you — but while just idly thinking? There was something about it that helped him concentrate.
There was that woman responsible for him being barred from Harry’s apartment and whom his Ma had been especially shifty about. Merriam. He wouldn’t be surprised if she knew something, but whether she knew that that something was so important… Leo wasn’t sure. Regardless, he wouldn’t bother her. She had her own problems to deal with, and Leo wouldn’t draw attention to her.
“Leo!” Margot came rushing into the Dancing Phoenix. It was bustling — there also was the not so little matter of the appearance of Scar, Lee Jordan, and the possessed Gavril to take care of — as usual, but Leo was more than a bit distracted as he sat with his inner circle.
“Yes, Margot?” He looked down at the girl and bid a smile onto his lips. (How long had it been since he smiled? Just that morning he’d noticed no less than seven new grey hairs).
She stilled and quieted and then leaned up on her tiptoes to reach his ear. “I saw her boots in the alleys this morning, Your Majesty.”
Leo froze. Of course. Harriett. Be careful. He vowed to pray to Kyprioth for her safety when he had the time to appropriately devote to it. But at least if she had been in the alleys this morning, he knew she was safe, wasn’t in the custody of the aurors just yet. That was all he could ask and hope for right now. He didn’t want to think about if they got ahold of her, but of course in that event, he’d help her. He would always help her.
In one of his less (perhaps his least) admirable moves as rogue, he delegated the investigations regarding the men and that woman to Marek, Aled, and others.
He needed to make sure his Harriett was safe.
He was outside Tate’s apothecary every single day, despite the fact that his birdies would certainly inform him if they spotted her in the alley. It took a week for the pretty pureblood who also was there every single day to notice him. When they finally exchanged a glance, Leo grinned but it wasn’t entirely sincere. He could remember what Harry had said about him.
He couldn’t entirely blame him for taking so long though. Leo belonged there; that man certainly did not. It wasn’t any one specific thing, but all of them. Still, the fact that he’d been in the alleys every day for practically the last month… if Leo were a different man he might say it was admirable.
And so it was that Leo was there outside Tate’s, listening in as Caelum Lestrange and Harriett Potter spoke. And maybe he directed his thieves to steal from the pureblood lord after he left, maybe Leo himself even bumped into the him as he left the store, easily lifting his purse and pocketing it.
Harry had been right about his vile; he wasn’t as pretty once he opened his mouth.
How dare he call Harriett ugly when she was one of the most breathtaking people Leo had ever laid eyes on? It was everything about her, no single thing, just her passion, her loyalty, her everything. Practically a year since he’d confessed his feelings for her, and nothing had changed. If anything, he only felt it that much stronger.
Harriett Potter… yes, he was probably in love with her, and that was highly problematic. But he’d quash it all in a second to help her, to be there for her. He didn’t care if she returned his feelings just as long as she was safe.
And then Harriett was there, right in front of him, and all the tension that had built up inside him over the weeks while he worried for her eased. He could breathe again. And give her back her knife.