Chapter Text
Raymond Reddington was enjoying his tea when he felt a thin piece of wood pressed against the base of his ear. He let a chuckle escape his lips. “Mr. Potter,” he said conversationally. “I was wondering when you would come to me. I understand your people wanting to keep their secrets and all but as I told the FBI, I only speak to Elizabeth Keen.” A cell phone was dropped on the table next to the Concierge of Crime. Red sighed as he picked up the phone and dialed a number.
The phone rang twice before it was answered. “This is Keen.”
“Lizzy,” Reddington responded casually. “I have a person that I would so like for you to meet. They currently have a deadly weapon pressed against the base of my skull.”
“I’ll contact Lennix and-“
”You’ll do no such thing,” Reddington hissed. “You will come here and meet my guest so he can get what he wants and be on his way. Believe it or not, this young man is essentially on your side. He is just here to collect the members on the black list that your people can’t touch.”
“If Lennix finds out about this...”
Reddington sighed. “I assure you that my guest is as high above Lennix as Lennix is above you. Just get here as soon as you are able. I believe that you have been kept apprised of my current location.”
Reddington smiled as he heard the frustrated huff from the other end of the line. “I’ll be there in seven.”
“Very good. Don’t be alarmed if you should happen to find my security detail unconscious. I assure you they haven’t been harmed. My guest has his own code of ethics.”
Seven minutes later Reddington watched as Lizzy walked in the room with her sidearm drawn. She seemed startled as she looked at his guest, but Reddington chalked that up to his guest’s attire. “Have a seat Lizzy. I’d like you to meet Harry James Potter, likely the most famous person you have never heard of. He works for a special branch of the British government, one that I’d love to tell you about but I doubt you’d want to have your memory tampered with. I certainly don’t. Now as you can see, Mr. Potter doesn’t like me very much. Probably would very much like to end my existence if it wasn’t for the fact that I hold an exceptional amount of intel on people he is hunting and the fact that I am rather closely related to a young lady that he is quite fond of.” He felt the wand dig into his neck again and a series of photos dropped on the table caught his eye.
Cautiously he picked up the photos and started looking through them. “Ah,” He murmured appreciatively, “Your first day going to Hogwarts. You are finally catching on. Very good Mr. Potter. I see you even marked off the ones that you have already managed to take out. Very efficient. Did Hermione give you these? Her mom always was a bit of a shutterbug. Let’s see. You’ve gotten Mr. Malfoy, the Goyles, the Crabbes, Yaxley, Nott Senior and Junior. My you do have a good eye. Mrs. Zabini and her son, the Changs, Master Li, Mrs. Weasley and her two youngest. Those last ones must have really hurt given your history with them. The Diggories, truly distasteful to sacrifice your own children for ideology. Greater good indeed. Parkinsons, Bulstrodes, MacLaggan. Please tell me that Hermione got him.” He felt the wand dig in again. “Alright, Alright. It looks like you already got everyone, so why are you...” Reddington stopped at the last photo.
Lizzy looked at Reddington with concern. “What is it?”
Reddington felt like swearing. “They shouldn’t have been there. This is outside the platform. Jean must have seen them and took a picture just in case. They aren’t your problem Mr. Potter. You should let Lizzy and I take care of this.” The wand dug into his neck again. “Alright!” He all but screamed. “At least take Lizzy with you! It concerns her too! She has connections that can make your search easier!”
He felt the wand pull away before he felt the electric buzz that he always associated with a stupefy.
***
Lizzy wasn’t sure what to make of the situation she was brought in on. First, Reddington tells her that a young man is holding him at gunpoint and she arrives to find a woman with a stick pointed at his neck. Next he starts going through some old pictures and calling out names all the while being goaded by the woman poking him with the stick. When he got to the last one, he had become truly agitated and the announcement that it had involved her was a real shock. Not as big of a shock as the red glow coming out of the stick and knocking Red unconscious, but close.
“Well that was exciting,” the other woman spoke up with a bit of a British lilt to her voice. “Best not to disabuse him of the notion that it was Harry prodding for information. It’d be a shame for him to find out that his intel on us is a tad out of date. Also it’d wound his ego to find out his darling little Hermione became a genuine witch after he ran out on her. Pleased to meet you by the way, Elizabeth isn’t it. I always hate when someone butchers my name. I’m Hermione Granger, on loan to the Americans from Department 9.” She then stowed the stick away and walked over offering her hand. “Raymond used to talk about you all the time. I feel like I practically know you.”