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Chapter Text

It happened without warning. Without any indication. One moment they were laughing, shopping at the latest clothing store added to their favorite wizarding district in Paris, and the next there was nothing but supercharged air throwing her back. She knew she needed medical attention, but everything felt numb as she stared at the lifeless form before her.

She sank to her knees.

The world sounded as if it were far away as she reached out and scooped up the body, hesitating as she touched the still form. She clutched them tightly to her chest, rocking back and forth as she let out a wail. She didn't try to stop the tears. She'd done this, she knew it without question. This was her fault and she would never be forgiven for it. Again a cry escaped her lips just as a hand fell on her shoulder, snapping her out of the bubble of her mind.

She looked up at the man's face, his expression a mixture of heartbreak and anger.

"We need to get out of here."

It wasn't a suggestion, she knew, but couldn't bring herself to move, clutching the body tighter. He knelt down and forcibly moved her head to look at him once more.

"We need to get out of here and let the Auror's work. The place is still on fire."

"This is my fault," she whispered as she gently placed the body back on the ground. With no weight in her arms she felt as if she would wilt away, so she grabbed his shoulders for support as another round of tears began to fall. "I did this."

He gripped her chin tightly and the look in his eyes changed. No longer was he sad. His eyes no longer held heartbreak. All she saw was anger.

"No." The conviction in his voice cut off the tears and her eyes widened. "Someone planned this and did it themselves. I don't know who, but I intend to find out, even if it takes years. Anyone can be found and brought to justice with enough effort."

His words touched something within her and the heartache receded, not completely, and she suspected it never would, but it receded like the tides of the sea. She knew it would come back, often and without warning, but for now it had been pushed away. In its place, a burning desire started. It was just a small kindling, but she knew it would grow with time.

She nodded her head as he helped her up. She wiped her face and looked up at him.

"You're right. I'll mourn when justice has been served."

.

.

Paperwork was dull.

At least, that's what Harry thought. Some in the department, like Frank Longbottom, were more than happy to sit in the office all day and take care of the administrative tasks. It was part of the job, he'd say, that permanent smile affixed on his face before he'd go right back to it. After a few moments he'd look back up and say something about having a consistent schedule and getting back to his wife at a decent hour every night.

But Harry couldn't stand it.

Sure, he understood the need for the paperwork, you had to have records, but it was just so dull. He'd rather be on patrol in Diagon Alley or assisting on a case. That was where the real fun of being an Auror happened, not sitting at his desk filling out incident reports that he'd let pile up over the course of the last two weeks.

"Harry!"

He looked up and saw his father poking his head out of his office before gesturing for him to approach. Harry nodded and smiled as he stood up. Despite the fact that his father was the Head Auror, he'd received no special treatment upon joining. He'd gotten the requisite OWLS and NEWTS, gone through the same training, and worked the same crap assignments as every other newbie. James Potter was many things, but he knew better than to play favorites.

Entering the office Harry saw a tall man standing near the window dressed in the deep blue robes of a French Auror. He walked over and shook Harry's hand.

"Harry, meet head Auror Dupont, my counterpart in France," James said as he sat behind his desk. Harry nodded at the taller man.

"It's nice to meet you sir," Harry said with a smile before turning towards his father. "What's this about?"

James gestured towards Dupont.

"Have you heard about The Shadow, Monsieur Potter?"

Harry shook his head.

"The Shadow is a thief who has been plaguing the French Ministry for several years," Dupont said with a sigh as he sat down. Harry followed his lead.

"Seems kind of silly to give more press to a thief," Harry pointed out. "In my experience that just drives them to continue stealing. They steal for attention."

Dupont nodded.

"I agree, and this thief would have no name if it were up to me. Sadly, someone in my department leaked the details to the press. You know how they love naming things."

Harry nodded.

"True enough. Merlin knows I've been subject to my fair share of labels over the years." He looked between the two men. "So what's this got to do with us?"

"The Shadow has, up until recently, confined their activities to France," Dupont continued, "Usually stealing from our most wealthy magical citizens, though they have taken from muggle museums as well. None of the things they steal end up on the black market in France, though we haven't been able to monitor markets worldwide. We think they're either trading them to someone else or keeping them. Regardless, we have reason to believe they're headed here next."

"What makes you think that?" Harry asked as the Frenchman reached into his robes and pulled out a photograph, handing it to Harry. He looked down at it and saw a brick wall with letters written in magical ink on it.

"'Au revoir for now France. I'll be across the pond if you need me,'" Harry read aloud before squinting. "Is that a drawing of a cat winking?"

Dupont chuckled as he nodded.

"Yes, it is. Though you can't see it in the photo, ever so often the cat would meow and cough up a union jack too. It was quite an impressive bit of charms work, if I do say so myself."

Harry looked over at James.

"You think this is credible?"

James nodded.

"I got some of their files on this person last week, and while they've left taunting messages for the Aurors regularly, they've never lied. Each time they gave the team advanced warning of their next heist they followed through with it." James scratched his chin. "They'll likely want to make a splash."

"The Malfoy's bullshit party is in a couple weeks," Harry pointed out, his face taking on a sour expression. Draco wasn't a bad guy, and he was pretty good in the courtroom, but his mother and father were terrible. "It's going to have a bunch of people from all over the UK and France. The perfect time to strike and let it be known you've arrived."

James nodded again.

"That's what I was thinking. I want you to take the lead on this."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I currently don't have a partner, if you remember. Neville decided to go and have another child."

James rolled his eyes.

"So find someone else," he replied before quickly sending Harry a knowing look. "Not Sirius."

"What? Why not?"

"Because, Auror Potter, the last time you and Auror Black worked together you stole a hippogriff," James said with a stern look. Harry folded his arms over his chest.

"Buckbeak was being held against his will."

"You released it into the wild," James pointed out. "You know how much shit I got into because of that stunt? You're lucky both of you have such a good track record, otherwise the Minister would have made me fire you both."

He cleared his throat before pointing back towards Dupont. "Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Auror Dupont has graciously offered to be on site to lend a hand. Sirius, Frank, and I will be working the crowd. You need to do what you do best."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Sneaking around in the dark and getting into trouble?"

James shook his head and opened his mouth, but Harry beat him to it.

"Drinking?"

James shot him a dirty look.

"Being stunningly good looking, far more so than my father?"

Dupont laughed.

"Oh James, I see now why you say he's a handful," the man said with a smile. "I'm surprised you don't have more gray hair."

James sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple.

"Honestly," Harry voiced, breaking the short silence, "it might be best to have me run this one solo."

"That's a terrible idea," James said, but Harry held up his hand.

"I think it's the perfect idea," he countered before looking at Dupont. "Your team tried all manner of tactics, yeah?"

Dupont nodded.

"Oui. Everything we could think of, but they kept slipping past us. They're good, incredibly good, and we know very little about them."

Harry turned back to James.

"See? We need to try something new. Solo operations are rare, but if this person is a thief then they're not looking to hurt anyone." Harry could see that James was unconvinced, so he continued. "You, Sirius, and Frank can watch things inside. I'll have Seamus join you as well. He's gotten in with the Malfoy crowd so he'll be helpful inside. I'll post Boot at the main entrance. He won't be able to fuck anything up there."

"You speak very unkindly about your coworker, Mr. Potter," Dupont said. Harry smiled.

"Terry Boot is a good man, but he's got a habit of acting or speaking before thinking," replied Harry.

James sighed.

"As much as I might not like it, you're right." His voice was resigned.

They both knew this was the best course of action but Harry understood his father didn't like the thought of him roaming the Malfoy manor alone. Harry scratched his head as an idea formed.

"What if I get a couple of non-aurors to help us out?"

James shook his head.

"I don't use civilians," he said firmly.

"Not regular civilians," Harry tried, "capable ones. Like Hermione. And…well, I guess just Hermione."

"Hermione Granger?" Dupont asked, causing Harry to nod. "Her exploits in your Ministry have reached even our department. She's very capable."

Harry looked back at his father.

"See? She's capable, and she knows basically everyone who will be there. We can have her point out anyone suspicious or unknown to us."

James chewed his lip and Harry could see the wheels turning in his head. The idea was sound, Harry was confident in that, and adding more Auror personnel to the mix wouldn't help them catch a thief. They needed efficiency, and with the new earpieces the Department of Mysteries had recently cooked up for them he was sure having one or two regular people helping out would be beneficial.

"Fine," James said, "but I brief her and decide how much she knows. And I decide if things get too dangerous."

Harry nodded. He wouldn't have it any other way.

James pointed at Dupont. "Work with Mr. Dupont for the rest of the afternoon and then get something together. Only involve people who absolutely need to be involved. I don't want this leaking."

.

.

Harry adjusted his tie as he watched the party from the shadow of the lawn. James had been insistent that Harry be in formal wear, just in case he needed to make an appearance. Harry had argued that it would limit his mobility if he got into a fight with the thief. It had been a long, drawn out argument where neither had wanted to budge.

Lily had been the one to suggest the muggle suit.

He couldn't deny that it looked stylish, the black slacks, shoes, jacket, and tie fitting in well with the white button up shirt. The tailor they'd gone to had said he was a "Regular James Bond," though he didn't see much resemblance. He'd seen the movies years ago, but the suave personality and dashing good looks of 007 didn't mesh with Harry's own personality. At least not in his opinion.

As he continued to scan the room, several chirps of the magical earpiece came through as Terry marked anyone he felt was suspicious, he saw someone that made him stop. She was in a long, light blue dress and her silver blonde hair, held together by a single elegant ribbon, fell to her waist. He couldn't stop himself from staring as she laughed and covered her mouth as the light around her seemed to brighten at the gesture.

"Hermione," he whispered into his earpiece, "Blonde at your eight o'clock. Who is she?"

"Eight o'clock?" came the quiet reply. He sighed.

"The smoking hot leggy blonde to your left," James pipped in humorously.

"Not helping," Harry hissed.

"I'm telling Lily you're being creepy James," Sirius added, and Harry nearly ripped the earpiece out in frustration.

"Oh, sorry," Hermione said, "I'm still not used to this. Let's see, oh, that's Fleur Delacour. She works for Gringotts in their curse breaking division. Her and Bill Weasley just came in from Egypt. I think. Ron kind of glossed over the details when he told me. You'll probably meet her the next time you're at the Burrow."

"How'd she get an invite?" Harry asked. He could see Hermione shrug.

"The goblins always send human representatives to these things, it's how they maintain their influence," she explained. "She's probably here with several other Gringotts employees, maybe even Bill."

"Better luck next time, son," quipped James.

"Not necessarily, though she is a Veela," Hermione interrupted. "Her and Bill aren't dating. They're just partners and have been for years."

"Uh huh," Sirius said with a chuckle, "I'm sure they're just partners. I've seen Bill. Two attractive people working together? Sorry Hermione, but that screams 'friends with benefits' at the very least. Those two have most certainly done some things."

"Bill's been in love with your niece since they were in school," Hermione chided and Harry could see Sirius choke on his drink.

Thank goodness the DOM had spelled these things to only pick up actual words.

"Little Tonks?" his godfather whispered after he recovered.

"Focus people," James cut in, a seriousness to his tone. "Harry, how are things looking out there?"

Harry scanned the grounds and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He flicked his wand to ping some of the detection spells he'd set up and received no odd responses. Finally, he looked at the rest of the windows and saw no movements throughout the rest of the house. He'd chosen this spot as it contained windows into all the important locations in the house, places where things of value might be kept.

"Nothing so far," he said, "I'm starting to think they're not going to show."

"Are you kidding me?" James hissed.

"Nope, I'm serious."

"Actually, I'm S-"

"Sirius, if you complete that sentence I'll come in there and beat you to death with the champagne glass you're holding," Harry threatened.

He was tired, they'd worked long hours to make sure everything was set up for tonight, and so far it had proven to be a bust. He wasn't in the mood for his godfather's jokes. He'd had the perfect plan. The detection spells he was using were old, obscure, and far less likely to be known by a criminal. He was sure they wouldn't know how to counter them. Additionally, he'd charmed the windows to the study and the master bedroom with some more advanced wards.

Having Draco let slip that his father was keeping a couple new expensive pieces in his study to the right people had just been insurance.

"Well keep watching."

James' commanding voice sounded in his ear before the earpiece went silent, something Harry was quickly growing to hate about the objects. They used some pretty advanced magic to direct the correct speech through them, but that meant when the person on the other end was addressing someone else all he got was silence.

"If we haven't seen anything in a couple more hours we'll call it a night," James voice returned.

Harry didn't bother to respond.

.

.

It was nearly two hours later, the party beginning to come to an end, when Harry's detection spells went off. He cast a few spells to check and he furrowed his brow. That was different. Detection alerts coming from both ends of the grounds, as if someone had tripped both sides simultaneously.

"Anyone go out to the west end of the grounds from the main house?" he asked into the earpiece.

"Nope," came the reply from Frank, "Haven't seen any guests leave through that side of the house all evening. The apparition point is on the east side and the floo is near the main entrance. What's up?"

"Getting odd readings from my spells."

"Anything of note?" asked Sirius.

"Detections on both sides of the grounds," he explained. "I can probably explain away people leaving from one, but there's nothing on the west side."

"I'll take a look," Sirius said.

"James, you and Frank casually make your way towards that side of the building. Ask Mr. Dupont to do the same towards the main entrance," Harry instructed. "I'm making my way inside."

"Why?" asked James.

"Something feels off. These aren't normal responses," he said as he moved across the wide grounds, "people and animals have a distinct impression. I've never felt this before. Sirius, be careful."

Just as he was nearly at the house he stopped and looked up. The charm on the study window was intact and not reporting anything, but for a brief moment he thought he saw movement. He nearly continued walking, brushing it off, when he saw it again: the candle burning in the room flickered briefly, as if movement had changed its position.

Quickly he moved into the house and up the stairs, sticking to the shadows and doing his best to limit the sound he made. As he made it to the stairs he stopped. The study door was open, which should be quite a difficult task considering the amount of locking spells they'd hit it with. The skill required to break through would be, in all honesty, impressive.

Harry smiled.

He heard the sound of papers rustling in the room as he made it to the opening, stopping just long enough to peer in. It was a woman, her lithe figure and flowing black hair peeking out from under a hood. She wore unassuming clothes, simple black pants and a shirt with a dark scarf covering her neck, though he could feel the magic coming from the hood. Something stirred within him and he simply knew she was powerful…and beautiful. A deadly combination.

Deadly…and potentially thrilling.

The gap in the door was just wide enough for him to fit without moving it. Instantly his senses went into overdrive as it felt like the breath was sucked from his lungs. For just a moment he had the distinct impression he was experiencing what drowning felt like before it was gone just as quickly. The woman stopped as he settled, but he wasn't paying any attention to her.

He couldn't feel his connection to magic.

She turned towards him and her face, partially hidden by shadows, twisted into a smirk that snapped him back to his task.

"Huh," she said, "none of you have ever made it this far. Interesting. What makes you so special?"

Her voice was distorted, but there was an underlying note of…something. What, he didn't know, but it felt almost warm. Kind. Far different than a thief who had been plaguing the French Ministry for years.

"I'm pretty good at my job," Harry said before frowning. "What have you done to me?"

She laughed, a melodic sound even with the distortion.

"Do you like my ward? I developed it myself. No magic in here for you, at least not until it fades, and I'll be long gone by the time that happens."

The ward hadn't felt dark when he'd stepped into it, of that he was certain. He tried a spell with his wand to confirm that he was indeed without his best tool. He slipped the wood into the holster on his forearm as she turned away, shuffling through the papers on the desk once more. He studied her briefly and couldn't grasp her motive, but his gut told him she wouldn't kill him. He smiled.

Only one way to find out.

He rushed her. He wasn't the best unarmed fighter, but it had been drilled into him during training enough to hold his own. She turned just in time to block his punch.

"Rude," she said with a smile in her voice. "I'll play along...mostly."

She followed the blocked blow with a punch of her own and he stepped to the side to avoid it, catching her in the ribs with a return of his own. She grunted as she spun away, stopping just short of the window.

"Very rude."

Before he could think she was on him, jabbing, ducking, dodging, and tossing in kicks to keep him off balance. She landed a hard blow to the side of his face. Her fist felt heavy, as if enhanced by magic. Interesting. He landed a swift kick to her hip. She connected with his stomach. His fist impacted her shoulder.

They stopped, both panting heavily, neither willing to give an inch.

"Hi," he said as he watched her ready for her strike. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Harry. And you are…?"

"Wondering if you're this forward with every woman you meet," she said with a smile.

"That depends."

"On…?"

"Is it working?" he asked.

"That depends," she replied.

"On…?"

"If you can finish," she whispered before launching at him again.

It was as if they were dancing a choreographed routine. Each played their part to perfection. He didn't know why, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face as they danced, their strikes coming faster and with more intensity as the minutes ticked by. Harry hadn't had fun at work for so long, and despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn't help to wonder who he was facing off against. Who the woman wearing the matching smile was.

He sidestepped a punch and caught her wrist. She turned but he held firm as she twisted, causing her back to collide with his chest as he wrapped her in his arms to prevent her escape.

"Got you now," he said with a grin.

"That you do," she whispered before leaning up and capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Despite what was going on, despite who she was, whoever she was, he kissed her back with just as much fire.

He lost focus for a single moment, but that was all she needed as she jammed her elbow into his stomach. He doubled over as the air was pushed from his lungs. When he looked back up she was halfway through the window, one hand on the frame as she stared back at him. Her other hand went to her lips and she smiled.

"That was…invigorating. See you around, lover." She blew him a kiss and jumped. Harry scrambled to the window but found nothing below. As he let out a curse he felt magic return to him and the earpiece chirped to life.

"Harry James Potter you better answer me right fucking now!" his father's voice came through.

"I'm here," he said as he stepped back from the window with a sigh. "She's gone."

"What? Who?"

"The Shadow," Harry clarified, "is a woman, and she was here. We fought but she got away. I'm in the study."

He touched his fingers to his lips, mind going back to the moment of their kiss. When his world had caught fire. It was heated, heavy, but it felt like there was a spark of…something there. Something else. What, he wasn't sure. He moved over to the desk and began rummaging through the scattered pages, trying to focus his thoughts. Page after page of financial records littered the desk, but he wasn't sure what any of it was for.

The door opened and the four other Aurors stepped in, looking around wildly. James gave him a soft look.

"You hurt?"

Harry shook his head.

"No, I'm alright."

"Doesn't look like it. Your cheek is swollen and you're favoring your right side. What happened?"

Harry shrugged before looking up.

"We fought and she got away." He pointed down at the papers. "Is Draco still out there?"

"I think he was just about to leave," Terry said from the door. "Would you like me to see if he's gone?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, bring him up here if you can. I'd rather not deal with Lucius if I don't have to." Harry locked eyes with his father and shook his head. "We'll talk later and I'll give you the full rundown. She was looking through these when I got here, though I think she might have made off with some of them. They're Malfoy's financial records. Not sure what for though."

Sirius sighed and dropped into the chair next to the desk.

"It's gonna be a long night, isn't it?"

.

.

A faint pop signaled Harry's arrival at his flat, a modest one bedroom place in muggle London. Just a small kitchen, sitting area, bathroom, and bedroom, but it suited him well. The neighbors never bothered him and he could make the place his own, something he decidedly couldn't do at any of the Potter residences.

It was late, or early, depending on how you viewed things, so he grabbed a butterbeer from the fridge, popped the top, and took a long sip before making his way over to the couch. He plopped down with a sigh. His body ached in protest. He'd refused a healer once they'd left Malfoy Manor and he was regretting it now. Everything hurt, the dangerous dance and traded blows had begun to make themselves known. He had some potions in his bathroom, but he couldn't be bothered to move.

The team had all but interrogated him for hours, Mr. Dupont had been extremely insistent on the act. It needed to be told while it was still fresh in his mind, the Frenchman had argued. Arsehole, as if pensives weren't a thing. Or maybe they weren't in France. He didn't care, he just knew he now hated that old bastard.

He had, of course, conveniently left out his rather…heated exchange with the mysterious woman.

A bloke doesn't kiss and tell.

He was taking another sip when he saw it sitting on the small table in front of his couch. If the moon wasn't full he'd never have seen it, the small piece of fabric folded neatly below the note on top. He took another sip and placed the drink on the floor. He'd dropped his wand in the kitchen, but he didn't sense any danger. He grabbed the note and opened it.

That was a fun date. You know how to show a girl a good time. I figured I'd give you something to remember me by.

Until next time, lover.

XOXO

He put the note down and picked up the item and it unfolded as he did. It was the scarf she had been wearing. He brought his free hand up to his face again and he could almost taste her lips on his. He gripped the scarf tightly and leaned back on the couch with a smile.

This would be fun. Potentially dangerous, but fun.

.

.

"You did WHAT?!"

Fleur sighed as she poked at her food, rolling her eyes, and took another bite. He'd returned not long ago and she'd told him what she'd done, the little gift that she'd left for the British Auror. She glanced over at the empty vials and a smile almost crossed her lips. It was rare that she got into a fight, ever rarer with someone of such skill. Yet, she couldn't help but feel there was something…different about tonight. The way they moved, matched each other, it was almost as if their bodies had been working in harmony rather than against one another.

She was intrigued, and if she was being honest, just a tad bit turned on. She looked up.

"I broke into his flat and left my scarf," she repeated. "I don't see what the big deal is."

He fumed, throwing his hands up in the air as he paced in front of the small table.

"Don't see what the big deal is? Fleur, that could potentially tie this back to you!"

She waved a hand.

"I'm not a student at Beauxbatons anymore, Luc, I know what I'm doing," she shot back, offended that he would even entertain the thought that she wasn't careful. "I made sure it was clean. They're not going to find out it was me. Besides, I don't think he's going to tell anyone."

"And what makes you think that?"

She looked out the window at the night sky, taking in the moonlight as her mind wandered back to their fight.

"Something happened during the fight. I don't know, it's hard to explain. Maybe it was the excitement of the moment, maybe it was the lack of magic, I don't know, but something sparked between us."

Luc sighed and sat down, bringing a hand up to his face.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means he's intrigued about me, same as I am about him," she clarified.

"Harry Potter is not an idiot," Luc said before looking at her with a hard stare. "Don't forget why we're here."

She stood quickly, chair scraping against the floor as she placed both palms on the table, leaning over to send him a withering glare.

"No, I won't ever forget. Don't question my resolve, Luc Bennet. You were engaged to her but she was my sister. Her murderer will be brought to justice." She left the table and headed towards the bedroom, her appetite lost. She had work in a few hours and needed to get some sleep.

She turned back to look at him.

"Don't you forget that I'm not here for revenge. France holds nothing for me, what was there died the same day as Gabby. Once this is over my life will be here. Perhaps you should ensure you're not thinking of taking things too far."

Chapter Text

A small pop indicated his arrival and Harry smiled as the Burrow stretched out in front of him. He could hear the noise from within and took a deep breath as he made his way towards the house. He'd always loved coming here, his surrogate family home, and it had been a lifeline at some of the most important moments in his life. Idly he noticed that the house was extended and wondered if Bill or Charlie were in town.

As he stepped through the threshold the noise amplified and he was immediately immersed in the chaos that was the weekly Weasley family gathering. He could hear everyone at the table, but it was Molly who greeted him. He smiled. She was always waiting for him to arrive, never content to join the family until all of her children were present and accounted for.

"There you are," she said softly, wiping her hands on a towel before moving over to wrap him in a bone-crushing hug. He returned the hug enthusiastically.

"Hey Mrs. Weasley," he said with a smile as she broke away, swatting him playfully along the way.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Molly, young man? None of this formal stuff."

He laughed.

"I'm not sure my mum would agree with you there."

"Lily would agree with me and you know it," she chided as she waved her hand dismissively..

Molly handed him a plate and began pushing him towards the adjourning room. As the family had grown, so too had the house, the table simply no longer having a place in the kitchen.

"Now go, the food is already out," Molly said. "Your mother feeds you but today it's my responsibility, and I'll not have you telling her I shirk my duties."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied with a smirk.

A loud hello echoed in the room as he was swarmed by mops of red hair, half hugs and handshakes all around. Before he could sit down, however, something collided with his legs, nearly knocking him over. He looked down and smiled at his goddaughter. He scooped her up and peppered her face with kisses, eliciting a squeal.

"Stop uncle Harry!" Rose said in his arms.

"Never!" Harry shot back as he launched another round, finally stopping when he dropped her back into her seat.

Rose stuck her tongue out at him causing him to laugh. Childishly, he did the same to her, earning an eye roll from the child. He looked next to her and ruffled Hugo's hair as he leaned over and kissed Hermione on the cheek.

"How's it going, squirt?" he asked Hugo.

"Uncle George says I'm gonna be a chaser when I grow up!" the young boy replied with a mouth full of food.

"Hugo, don't talk with your mouth full," chided Hermione, narrowing her eyes at her son.

Harry took a seat next to Hermione and sighed. He loved the Weasley's, but there was no denying these meals were an endurance run, not a sprint. They were easy when he was still in school, but as spouses and kids got added it started to become quite the draining event.

"How are you Hermione?" he asked as she passed him the mashed potatoes.

"Good," she said, taking the potatoes back and passing him the next dish. "Ron's taking the kids to their first quidditch match next week, so it's all they want to talk about."

He smiled as both kids spoke at the same time, talking at him about the upcoming event. He vaguely heard a voice from the floo and caught Molly leaving the room briefly before returning. As she stepped back in she wasn't alone. With her was Fleur Delacour.

She wore unassuming clothes, just some jeans and a normal shirt with her hair up in a messy bun, yet somehow she seemed even more beautiful than she did at the party. She smiled sheepishly to the room as Molly began introducing her to everyone.

"This is Fleur," Molly said as Arthur stood to greet her. "Bill was supposed to be here but he had to go back to Egypt early. He asked if we could help Fleur get her bearings for a few days since she's new to the area."

"You were Bill's partner in Egypt, right?" asked Percy as he shook her hand just as she reached the open seat next to Harry.

Fleur nodded.

"Yes, though sadly not anymore," she replied with a frown.

She turned towards Harry and he saw something unfamiliar flash through her eyes for a split second, though it was gone almost before he noticed it. Brushing it off, he stood and smiled as he offered his hand.

"Harry Potter, nice to meet you."

She shook his hand and returned a warm smile of her own.

"Nice to meet you, Harry." She took a quick glance around the room. "Are you married to someone…?"

He laughed and shook his head as they both took their seats.

"Nope. They picked me up years ago and have been unsuccessful in getting rid of me since."

"Mum's best efforts to make you an official part of the family haven't helped," Fred quipped. Angelina elbowed him in the ribs and sent Harry a wink as Fred doubled over. Fleur's confused look made Harry smile again.

"I met Ron on the train to Hogwarts our first year," he explained. "My mum let me spend time here every summer while we were in school, and I've kind of been adopted by Molly, though my parents would tell you this is my hideaway family. As such, I'm invited to the weekly get together."

"What brings you to England, Ms. Delacour?" asked Arthur as plates began to truly get shuffled and passed around.

"Opportunity," she replied as she took another dish that had been handed to her. "I wanted to transfer out of field work and the French branch had no openings. Bill mentioned the branch here is always looking for people so here I am."

Harry could see she was struggling with the rhythm of how a Weasley meal worked, and he couldn't blame her. It would seem Bill had kind of thrown her into the fray without any preparation, and she was currently downing. Smoothly he leaned over and lowered his voice so only she could hear him.

"Just take a small bit of everything," he instructed. "Take more of anything you actually want to eat. Everything else? Just a small bit. Molly will make you try it regardless."

She looked over at him and nodded. She wasn't laughing, but the look in her eyes said enough.

"Sounds like you're an expert," she pointed out.

Harry shrugged.

"More like I've been through this enough to know how to make it an entire meal without Molly trying to give me second and third helping. The first time I came over I was too polite to decline. Ended up being sick the next two days. My dad thought it was hilarious."

As the meal progressed, Fleur endured round after round of questions from the adults, and Harry had to admit that she was taking everything in stride. She was, at the very least, faring far better than he had in his first Weasley gathering. As they talked about the differences between Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, Harry looked over at Ron.

"How are things at the shop?" he asked.

"Pretty great, actually," replied Ron. "The locals were really excited for the grand opening. Hogsmeade is bigger than people give it credit for, so we think it'll be profitable year round."

"How'd you handle the first Hogsmeade weekend full of students?"

Ron shrugged.

"Well enough, though there was a group of Gryffindor students who kept causing trouble," he chuckled. "Had to give a live demonstration of some of the products to drive them away."

Hermione scowled. "You turned their hair green and silver!"

"Looking like snakes might make them think twice about causing problems next time," he shot back with a shrug.

Eventually, after Ron finished his animated accounting of new and upcoming products, Harry excused himself and went through the kitchen and out the back door to the yard. He'd started this particular part of his visits before he'd left Hogwarts. Once everyone got properly settled and bellies started to fill the controlled chaos would reach a fever pitch, at which point Harry would excuse himself to catch his breath.

He sat down on the bench out back and closed his eyes as he leaned against the wall of the house. He took several deep breaths before he heard a noise from his right.

"Oh, sorry Harry, I didn't realize anyone was out here."

He opened his eyes to see Fleur standing there with an apologetic look on her face.

"No worries." He raised an eyebrow. "Making a run for it?"

She blushed and looked away before shaking her head in embarrassment.

"No, it's not that," she replied, "I just wanted to get some air. It's…"

"Exhausting?" he offered. "Suffocating? Ten pints of ale in a five pint barrel?"

She laughed lightly and he felt something run through his stomach at the noise.

"Yeah, you could say that."

He stood up and jerked his head towards the back of the property.

"Come on, I'll show you the best spot to clear your head."

They began walking away and Harry couldn't help but take a look at her. She truly was beautiful, though he got the sense that she tried very hard to downplay that aspect of herself. The way she looked at the party meant she knew what she was doing, however, so he knew she didn't lack confidence. He'd not interacted with many Veela, but the magic surrounding her was warm, almost kind.

"So, Bill really just dropped you out here like a naked baby in the woods, huh?" he asked as they continued to walk along the fence.

She giggled.

"He didn't mean to, really. He was going to be here but they called him back to Egypt early," she defended before looking at Harry with a smile. "Thanks for the tip about the food. I caught Molly sneaking glances at my plate."

He shrugged.

"Only right that I help the newbie out. Have they given you anything good to help you get oriented to our little slice of the world?"

She nodded.

"Molly gave me the name of several places off the normal beaten paths that are good for shopping. Fred and George gave me the names of their favorite food places, including a bakery." Harry raised an eyebrow and she shrugged as they ducked under a branch. "I like pain au chocolat."

"Percy gave me a rather…detailed explanation of the Ministry. He's…very thorough."

"That's one way to put it," Harry said with a smirk as they finally got to the far end of the property. A small tree sat alone overlooking the countryside. "And here we are, the best place on the property."

"The view is gorgeous, I can see why you like it so much."

She shot him a smile that caused him to smile back. They sat down with their backs against the tree and stared out at the wide expanse before them, both content to let the moment pass in silence.

"Hermione and Ron's children kept talking about their aunt Ginny's match next week," Fleur said, breaking the silence. She looked over to him with a raised eyebrow. "I can assume someone is missing today?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, Ginny, she's the youngest. She plays professional quidditch for the Harpies and Ron is taking them to one of her games next week. She's actually playing now, so she wasn't able to make it today."

"I take it you two share a history?" she asked.

"What makes you say that?"

Fleur shrugged.

"Fred made a comment about Molly trying to set you up?"

Harry laughed but nodded.

"Yeah, Ginny and I dated for several years," he confirmed. "Got together towards the end of our time at Hogwarts and made a go of it for a few years after leaving."

"In all honesty, I think Molly is scheming to get Bill and I together," she admitted. "She made some comments that were not as subtle as she thought they were."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeeeeah, Molly can get like that. She was more upset about our breakup than Ginny and I were."

"Oh?" Fleur said, eyebrows going up.

He nodded.

"Yeah, Ginny and I realized we weren't a fit for each other so we ended things. Molly spent a few weeks trying to convince us to get back together. She got over it eventually." He saw that she was watching him closely and his cheeks flushed the lightest shade of pink. "So yeah, it doesn't shock me at all."

"Really?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah. Eldest son, who isn't married, brings a beautiful woman home to meet the family but they're not dating? She's most certainly going to meddle in that."

She smirked and cocked an eyebrow.

"So you think I'm beautiful, Mr. Potter?"

Harry sent a smirk of his own back at her and shrugged.

"Beautiful enough for Bill Weasley."

She swatted his arm lightly and they both laughed at the joke. There was a natural comfort that he felt talking to her, as if they were two old friends catching up. He didn't know what made it easy to talk to her, but he got the sense that she felt it too. The presence of her magic lingered in the air, and he figured it was her allure, but it didn't seem to be affecting his thoughts or feelings. Either his occlumency was doing its job or she had very tight control.

"What is it you do, Mr. Potter?" she asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

He looked back out to the countryside before standing up and looking down at her, offering his hand to help her up. If they waited any longer to go back there would be a search party, Harry reckoned, so they might as well go back now. Surprisingly enough, he realized he was disappointed with that fact. He wanted to sit and talk with her for longer, get to know her.

Maybe even ask her to lunch.

"Nothing quite so exciting as curse breaker, I'm afraid," he answered. "I'm an Auror, have been since I left school. Not sure how good I am, but they haven't kicked me out yet, so I must be doing something right."

She nodded as the house came into view.

"Was there anything specific that made you want to be an Auror?"

He nodded and smiled.

"Yeah, it was back when I was a kid…"

.

.

The fire roared to life and Harry stepped through, cleaning himself off and making his way to the kitchen quickly. His parents were already seated when he barreled in, an apologetic look on his face as he leaned down to kiss his mother on the cheek.

"I'm so sorry," he said as he sat down, flicking his wand to cancel the warming charm on his plate. "Things ran long at the Burrow and I stopped by Nev's place to check in."

He had dinner with his parents once a week, without fail. They'd started it after he'd graduated and moved out, at his mum's urging. No matter what they were doing they were never too busy to eat a meal together, had been her reasoning. He'd known she didn't want to lose the close relationship they had, so he hadn't argued, though he wouldn't have complained regardless. He loved his parents.

"It's alright honey," Lily said, but Harry shook his head.

"No, it's not. I know you only get one night at home during the school year."

She waved her hand dismissively.

"It's fine Harry, I promise," she said as she took another spoonful of soup. "How is Neville?"

"Good. Little Terrance is apparently much better than Samantha was, though Hannah is having some problems sleeping. The healers said it's natural though."

Lily nodded.

"Yeah, I had the same thing after you were born. I'll send her my recipe for a potion I made to help with it."

Harry looked over at James.

"Just a heads up, I'm not sure Neville is going to come back."

James raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Why's that?"

Harry pointed in Lily's direction.

"Sprout is retiring soon and they're looking for a replacement. She sent him an apprenticeship offer and said Dumbledore would let him take her place if he accepts."

James groaned.

"Ugh, Sirius is going to be so smug."

Harry laughed and Lily patted James on the hand mockingly. There had been an unofficial bet between the two men on if Neville would come back. James was convinced Neville would be itching to get back to it the day after the baby was born. Sirius took the opposite stance, claiming his instincts were never wrong on these sorts of matters.

He told both Potter men to shove it after they got to the third example of when his instincts lead him astray.

"You could always just partner me up with Sirius," Harry suggested, causing James to shake his head violently.

"Never. I'd go gray early. Remember that time you two responded to a report of a break in at Fortescue's place? It took them four hours to completely clean up the ice cream. Four hours. With magic."

Harry shrugged.

"In our defense, the machine was just about a single strong breeze away from popping. Someone could have farted next to it and achieved the same result, and Sirius didn't mean to kick it."

James laughed and shook his head.

"You two were completely covered in ice cream from head to toe. It was funny, I'll give you that," admitted James.

As Lily was cutting the pie on the table and passing out slices, Harry furrowed his brow as a question popped into his head.

"Something on your mind son?" James asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry nodded and looked up at Lily as she placed the plate in front of him.

"Mum, why didn't you and dad have any more kids?"

Lily shrugged as she took a bite from her fork, savoring it before answering him.

"Never really felt the need for more. You and Neville grew up like brothers, so it always felt like we had two kids anyway. I'm sure Frank and Alice felt the same. By the time we talked about it I was already working on my mastery and your father had gotten promoted at work. Never really had a place to fit more kids in." She sent him a soft look and he could tell she was thinking back to memories of when he was a kid. "Before we knew it you were off to Hogwarts and we were old farts."

"Plus," James cut in, "you were such a terror as a child we couldn't stomach the thought of another you running around."

"James!" Lily protested, flicking a bit of pie at him, hitting him in the chest. He grabbed his chest dramatically and pretended to be hurt. Harry smiled at the exchange. His parents had always been that way, always having fun and showing their love in little, and sometimes childish, ways.

Lily looked back at Harry.

"What's got you thinking about that?"

He shrugged as he finished off his pie.

"Nothing, really. Just seeing Neville and Hannah's handful made me wonder, that's all." She looked unconvinced. "I promise, mum, that's all. Just idly curiosity. Not angling for a baby brother or sister."

"We could totally make that happen though," James pointed out.

Harry gagged.

"Ew, gross dad."

"What?" His dad's voice was filled with humor. "I'm just saying if you want a sibling we would gladly make that sacrifice for you. Could start trying tonight."

Harry gagged again.

"Merlin, please shut up. I don't want to think about my parents having sex."

James and Lily laughed at his obvious discomfort. He sent them the nastiest look he could muster. The clock on the wall chimed and Lily looked up, scowling.

"I need to get back to the castle."

They stood and she came over to Harry, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"I love you, my only child," she said teasingly.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Love you too, mum." He briefly opened his eyes wider as he remembered something. "I just remembered, you might be getting an owl from a Gringotts curse breaker."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Someone I know?"

Harry shook his head.

"No, she just transferred here. Her name is Fleur Delacour-"

"That leggy blonde from the party…I should not have said that," James chimed in. Lily narrowed her eyes at him before a laugh escaped her lips.

"Yeah, one and the same," Harry confirmed. "She was at the Burrow today and we got to talking about her job. I mentioned you taught charms at Hogwarts and knew more about it than just about anyone I know."

"And don't you forget it," Lily said proudly. Harry shook his head.

"Anyway, she said she might owl you some stuff to bounce some theory off of you."

Lily nodded and hugged James, placing a kiss on his cheek. She turned back towards Harry.

"Wonderful. I look forward to it. See you next week."

With a toss of floo powder and a roar of the fire she was gone, leaving Harry and James alone. James nodded towards the liquor cabinet.

"Want a drink before you head back?"

Harry nodded.

"That sounds wonderful."

Harry plopped down into one of the cushy seats near the fire as James waved a bottle at him.

"Firewhiskey okay?" he asked.

"Sure, though I still don't see why you and Sirius like it so much. Scotch is much better."

James handed Harry a glass and took the other seat near the fire, taking a small sip as he stared into the fire.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. Your godfather and I grew up on this stuff, so it's kind of just a habit at this point." James held the glass up and looked at it before shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe it doesn't taste as good as other drinks, but it's got sentimental value, you know?"

"To being a sentimental old man," Harry said mockingly, tapping his glass against his father's before downing the entire contents, hissing as it went down.

"Oh, you're so funny," replied James with a roll of his eyes. "I may be old but I can still kick your arse."

"Whatever you say, old man."

"Anyway," continued James, ignoring Harry's comment, "Fleur Delacour, huh?"

It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. Of course his dad would bring her up, he should have known he wouldn't escape the night without some sort of interrogation. Whatever telepathic link his parents had, that he knew was completely real, he was sure his mum had given orders to get more information out of their son. They were almost as bad as Sirius, and at least his godfather had the excuse of not having a subtle bone in his body.

"Really? We're doing this now?"

James shrugged.

"You know how it goes. I'm going to get a floo call from your mother tomorrow asking for details so you'll have to give me something. Besides," a tentative look entered James face, and Harry knew his father was uncomfortable with what he was about to say, "you haven't really taken an interest in anyone since Ginny."

"How's mum doing now that she's at the castle full time? It's been over a year since she got the Gryffindor head of house appointment, right?" He'd try changing the subject, though this was something he'd been lax on and should have asked long ago.

James shrugged.

"Dumbledore knew nobody else would want the job when McGonagall decided someone else should take over, so he agreed to Lily's conditions without question. She spends one night a week here, plus our weekly dinner." James sent him an unamused look. "I think you being very moved out helped, but you're also trying to change the subject."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

"I wish everyone would stop acting like Ginny and I were some match made in heaven. We dated for a few years and then parted amicably. We're still friends."

James nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, but you haven't really dated since," he pointed out. "I get not being hung up on your ex, but what made Fleur Delacour so special?"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. This is what he gets for being nice to someone.

"It's not like that. Bill just kind of dumped her off at the Weasley's and I didn't want her to drown in the sea that is the Burrow. You know how it gets over there."

"That I do," James said with a laugh. "They must all get it from Molly because Arthur is so mild mannered." He smirked. "So, you took the woman to meet the kinda-sorta-but-not-really in-laws for your first date. Unconventional, but I like your boldness."

Harry punched James lightly on the shoulder in annoyance.

"It's not like that! I gave her some tips on how to keep Molly off her back about eating and then we went for a walk around the property. She needed a break and so did I. She's…very easy to talk to and it was fun being around her. Maybe it was all in my head, but I felt like there was a connection there, something I hadn't gotten in a while."

Harry dropped his head at his words and instantly knew he shouldn't have revealed that bit of information. When he looked back up James was beaming at him. He sighed again.

"My son, a regular heart breaker," James said with pride. "A walk in the countryside, while it has the potential to be very creepy, is also incredibly smooth in the right setting. Sounds like a first date to me."

James stood and returned the bottle of firewhiskey to the cabinet before turning around and looking at Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"So, are you going to see her again? Seems you two hit it off."

Harry floated his glass towards James before standing up and moving towards the fire. He shrugged, noncommittal.

"There was an open invitation. She knows where I work, I know where she works. We'll see what happens."

James nodded.

"Perfect," he said with a nod of his head. "Just the right amount of interest without seeming too desperate. Way to go, son. You learned from the best."

Harry rolled his eyes as he reached for the floo powder.

"Mum hated your guts until your 6th year at school, so I don't think there was anywhere to go but up from that lesson."

As he tossed the powder into the fire, spoke his flat name, and stepped into the fire he couldn't help but wonder if Fleur would want to see him again. He hadn't been lying when he said he'd felt like there was something there, an almost odd familiarity between the two. He wondered if that feeling would lead them anywhere.

Chapter Text

"I don't believe you," Fleur said as she bit into her croissant, a sigh of joy escaping her lips as the chocolate flavor spread through her mouth.

"It's true," Harry defended, wiping his mouth with a napkin before leaning back in his chair.

They'd seen each other a few times since that day at the Weasley's, mostly for lunch or dinner. Fleur enjoyed being with Harry, his handsome smile and easygoing nature always finding a way to relax her. There were no expectations between them, and that suited her just fine, the stresses of her remaining family being an uncomfortable spot in her life. Harry was like a breath of fresh air.

The stories he had were just a nice bonus.

"You're telling me that your dad, the head Auror for the British Ministry, in the course of executing his job, accidentally released a Jarvey into the building?"

He nodded.

"That about sums it up, yeah," he confirmed before laughing. "Little overgrown ferret found its way into the Minister's office. Stood right on the Minister's desk and stared at them."

"What happened?"

"Opened its mouth and said 'You hit every branch on the ugly tree when you fell.'"

She laughed, covering her mouth as she did.

"What did the Minister do?" she asked, still laughing.

"Stunned the thing and brought it to us personally. Dropped it on my dad's desk, gave him a hard look, and said 'Your twin brother insulted me. Deal with him.'"

Fleur laughed harder, uncaring that several of the other tables around them were shooting her dirty looks. She kept laughing until she snorted, ending her laughter instantly as her eyes widened.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Did you just…"

She glared at him.

"I did nothing, Mr. Potter."

"Uh huh," he said, blowing out a long breath. "Fleur Delacour snorts when she finds something particularly funny. Interesting."

"I will end you if that gets out," she threatened.

Harry held his hands up in mock surrender.

"My lips are sealed, madam." He sent her a sly smile. "It was cute though."

She couldn't stop the blush that crept onto her cheeks, though that caused him to laugh. She folded her arms across her chest but the smirk she wore betrayed her false anger. She sighed contentedly. It was nice to laugh about life, even if it was through Harry's stories. Through the lens of his life.

It felt normal. Something she desperately wanted to get back to some day.

"Do you want me to walk with you to the bank?" he asked.

She shook her head and frowned.

"No, I've got an errand to run before work." She smiled at him. "Thank you for breakfast, Harry."

He waved his hand dismissively.

"No need for thanks," he insisted, "this was the best breakfast I've had in a long time."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Something tells me you don't have breakfast often enough."

He shrugged as they stood.

"Or maybe I do and it's the company that made it so enjoyable?" he suggested.

She tapped her lips before nodding. "Yeah, that's probably it. I am very good company."

"So modest."

"I aim to be an example of humbleness," she shot back with a smile.

.

.

Fleur unlocked the door to the small flat and stepped in, not bothering to announce her presence. He didn't have work today, so she knew he would be sleeping, likely having stayed up well into the morning hours going over the information they'd found. They were meeting once a week, but his owl had arrived overnight saying he needed to see her.

She looked around the seating area and sighed. His clothes were strewn about the room. Shirts and pants, in varying states of dirtiness, were thrown across the back of the sofa, hung over chairs, or simply left on the floor. She sighed again and waved her wand, causing all the clothes to rise and begin cleaning themselves.

Turning to the right she moved to the kitchen and could see that dirty dishes filled the sink. At least four days worth, if the state of the dried spaghetti on one of the plates was any indication. Chinese takeout containers were sitting next to the sink, most empty, some half full. Another wave of her wand and the dishes set to cleaning while the takeout containers vanished.

She was just about to move to the desk in the corner when the picture frame caught her eye, stopping her in her tracks. She did a double take and pain stabbed her heart as she moved a shaky hand to pick it up. She'd never seen this one before. It appeared to be spring, still cool enough for jackets but not so miserable to stay indoors. He had his arm draped over Gabby's shoulder as they hugged and smiled for the camera, laughing before the image looped again.

"That was just after we'd gotten engaged. In spring," she heard Luc's voice say from the other side of the room. Looking up, tears threatening to fall, she could see her arrival had woken him, his face still hazy from rest.

"Where was this?" she asked as he walked over and took the frame from her.

He stared down at the picture, touching the glass with a gentle hand. Her heart broke just a little more as she saw a look of despair enter his face before he willed it away, replacing it with a smile.

"Near that cafe she loved, the one near Beauxbatons. She'd met with Madam Maxim about the transfiguration position. She'd just been told the job was hers as soon as she completed her mastery."

He set the picture back down on the counter and sighed. They both let a moment pass, each giving the other the break needed to compose themselves. They would grieve fully once it was over, Fleur told herself.

"Why are you cleaning my flat?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Because it smelled like feet and you had no clean dishes. Honestly, how can you live like this?"

He shrugged.

"I get by. So long as I'm presentable for work I don't think it matters."

She shook her head and grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face her. She looked him directly in the eyes.

"Don't let it consume you, Luc, please. She wouldn't have wanted that, and would be insulted if you did, so please don't let it. If not for yourself, then for me. I can't do this without you." She squeezed his shoulders. "Now, you had something urgent?"

He nodded and moved over to the desk. She noticed he wiped his cheek quickly as he turned, though she chose to say nothing. Fleur had been hit hard by Gabby's murder, equal parts guilt and sadness, but Luc had been hit just as hard. The two had been set to get married, both happier than she'd ever seen them.

How quickly his fiance had been ripped away still made her heart ache for him.

"I've been pouring over the documents you…liberated from the Malfoy estate," Luc said, putting several pages of parchment on top of the rest. "He had a coding system for everything, and the man was good at it. Honestly, had he not chosen 'sleazy politician' as a career, Lucious Malfoy would have made a fantastic bookkeeper. It wasn't easy to crack."

"How so?" Fleur asked, looking down at the pages. One held Luc's key and the others were the records she'd taken several weeks ago.

"Most people who bother to use some form of encryption for their records use something easy, like family names or important events in their lives," Luc explained. "The dealer we got the information on the UK connection from? She was using pet names and birthdays from her family history. It was trivial to crack once I knew that."

He pointed down at the pages.

"Malfoy's system is completely random. He damn near made up an entirely new language for this. It took time, and I had to spend some gold to get additional information on ancient languages, but I got it."

He flicked his wand at the board on the wall, various names and places appearing on it. She'd taken to calling it the play board. Anything or anyone on it was in play and a potential source of information. Or had been. Or, at the very least, a link in the chain to helping them find the person responsible.

Luc highlighted the name at the top.

"Château de Chenonceau is where we found the antique dealer connection to the UK. They were being supplied with pieces from someone here. Those records indicated the supplier was being funded by an influential politician. Malfoy was the logical first step."

He flicked his wand again and Malfoy's name was highlighted.

"The documents prove he's funding a lot of similar operations here, but only one does business in France."

Another flick of the wand and a new name appeared on the board connected to Malfoy.

"Borgin and Burke is the name, though it appears that the owners are quite good at keeping secrets. I was able to find very little on the proprietors. They're also very good at what they do. Despite its reputation, the place has managed to fend off all challenges from the Ministry to shut them down."

Fleur raised an eyebrow.

"Someone in the Ministry tipping them off?" she guessed.

Luc shrugged.

"No idea. It's either that or they're very careful about what they actually do on the premises. But yes, my best guess would be they've also got a contact in the Ministry that feeds them information when needed."

Fleur tapped her chin. "But if they got raided by surprise…?"

"That's why they probably don't keep anything truly illegal there," guessed Luc, "but I'd prefer more information before the Shadow makes an appearance."

Fleur nodded.

"Agreed. I think I can get that."

Luc frowned and turned his nose up.

"Going to try getting information out of your new boy toy?"

She rolled her eyes.

"He's not my boy toy, I've told you that before. We just like being in each other's company. There's this…odd sense of comfort in talking to him. He knows nothing of…" she gestured towards the desk, "this, so I don't get the looks of pity that I got back home. Hell, even Bill gave me those in Egypt until I told him I hated it."

"So, what? You're going to lie to him about who you are and get as much information out of him as possible? With a bit of shagging on the side?" Luc asked.

"I'm not interested in him just because he can help," she defended.

She didn't even know why she was explaining herself to him. She didn't owe Luc Bennet anything about her relationships. Part of moving here, for her, was to start over. A new job in a new place meant meeting new people as well. She couldn't help that the person she'd connected most with was also an Auror. And investigating the Shadow.

"But you are interested."

"And your point?" she asked hotly. "Last time I checked I didn't have to run my personal life by you."

Luc gave her a hard look.

"You're playing a dangerous game here, Fleur. I'll say it again, Harry Potter isn't an idiot. If we're not careful he'll catch the Shadow, then it's game over."

"I can keep these things separate, and this isn't a game." She turned to leave. "I'm late for work. I'll contact you once I have more."

She stormed out of the flat and down the stairs, all the way to the sidewalk outside before she stopped. She was attracted to Harry, no doubt, and she knew he was attracted to her. Harry was sweet and charming, and far better a person than she was. When she was with him she could almost forget about her mission. She knew she could keep her personal life and this separate. They would intersect at some points, but she could keep them separate.

She had to. Otherwise, all that was left was a desperate search for justice that would eat her alive. She didn't know what would be left if that were all she was.

.

.

Neville Longbottom sat down at the desk opposite him and sighed.

"So? How'd it go?" Harry prodded, looking up from the nightly reports. Neville shrugged.

"As well as I'd hoped. He's disappointed, but understands it's an opportunity I can't pass up."

Harry laughed.

"People are going to think I drove you away. I'm going to get a reputation." He smirked. "I quite like that."

Neville rolled his eyes.

"It's not like I'm leaving today. I told James I'd stick around until my mastery was done, which should be about another six to twelve months," Neville said. "But…"

"But on desk duty only," Harry finished. Neville gave him a sheepish nod.

Harry wasn't bothered by Neville's decision to leave the Aurors. He and Hannah had a family, two sweet kids who meant the world to both of them. Being an Auror meant a certain level of danger was expected, though it was never welcomed. Harry had asked his parents about it when he'd joined after Hogwarts, and there was an underlying amount of tension in his mother's answer.

"I just had to accept that your father would sometimes be put in bad circumstances and trust him to come back to you and I safely. I wasn't going to tell him to stop pursuing his dream, but I didn't have to enjoy it either."

Harry had a suspicion that Neville's role as his partner was never permanent. He'd known that since his brother-in-arms had gotten married. He was happy for him, pursuing a life in something he was truly passionate about was not something everyone got to do.

"Wotcher, Harry."

He turned to see Tonks striding towards him, short, bright pink hair bobbing back and forth.

"Nymphadora," he said with a curt nod. She punched him in the shoulder.

"Now I'm not sorry about what I've graced you with my presence to say," she shot back as an almost evil grin spread across her face. "You've been summoned by the Unspeakables."

He groaned.

"No, absolutely not," he said, folding his arms across his chest and shaking his head. Tonks laughed and patted his cheek.

"It's adorable that you think you've got a choice. And I'm not going to cover for you if you try to pretend that you didn't know."

"You wound me, Tonks," he said dramatically, covering his heart with his hands. "I thought we were united by our shared quest to make Sirius go gray early?"

Tonks shrugged.

"That was before you left me off the Malfoy thing. I would have looked so good in the bright green dress I have." She grabbed him by the robes and pulled him up, dragging him towards the lift. "Now let's go. Bye Nev!"

Neville waved at them with a chuckle as she continued to pull Harry towards the lift.

"These orders come directly from James, so you have to follow them. He said he'd tell Lily if you try to get out of this."

"But that means I have to talk to her," he countered.

Tonks rolled her eyes as she pushed him into the lift.

"Chin up, Potter," she said mockingly, "It's been a couple years, maybe you two will get along great?"

Before he knew it the lift opened at the Department of Mysteries and he was greeted by the exact person he didn't want to see today. Or any day.

"Good, you're on time. For once," she said, turning around and walking away. She stopped after several paces and half-turned back to him, a bored expression on her face. "Get your arse in gear, Potter, I haven't got all day."

He recovered quickly and matched her step, not trying to keep track of where they were or what hallways they were turning down. He was convinced the department was purposefully obtuse, if for no other reason than to confuse visitors and make it seem more ominous than it really was. He looked at his companion. She still looked the same, though her blonde hair now went just below her shoulders instead of to the middle of her back like she'd worn it in school.

"It's always a pleasure to work with you, Daphne," he said with a smile, though he received only a scowl in return.

"We're here," she said as they stopped in front of a door. She ran her hand down the frame on both sides and what had appeared to be a solid oak door faded from existence. It would have been impressive, and he was most certainly sure they did it to wow others, but he'd long since gotten over it. She looked up at him. "It's Unspeakable Greengrass to you."

Harry rolled his eyes as they stepped into the room.

"Still bitter about me dating your sister then, huh?"

His relationship with Daphne Greengrass had never been warm, or even friendly. In school they had been in the same year but never interacted much, though she was the only student who could give him a run for the top spot in defense. They'd been partnered for potions a couple of times and that had been pleasant enough, though neither had been much for small talk.

Dating her sister shortly after breaking up with Ginny, however, had changed that dynamic.

Even then, dating was such a strong word. He and Astoria had gotten together for drinks, had some fun, and then parted ways. It lasted no more than a month, both trying to get over recent breakups, both just looking for a distraction. Neither had any delusions that their relationship was anything more than what it was. They were friends now, hell, he still grabbed lunch with Astoria whenever they crossed paths. However, dating her had apparently been a grave mistake to Daphne, who now seemed to hate him.

It would be funny if she weren't so dangerous.

She backed a few paces away from him, pointed her wand at the floor beneath his feet, and muttered something. The air shifted around him and suddenly he could no longer feel magic.

"Is this what you felt at the Malfoy estate?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"Yeah, though the person who cast it said they created it," he revealed. "Were you able to replicate it?"

Daphne rolled her eyes and jabbed her wand at the floor, muttering something else under her breath. Just as quickly as it left his magic returned. He shuddered. He decided he hated the sensation that the ward created, like part of him was missing.

"No, you gullible idiot, whoever cast it learned it from somewhere. Or stole it," she said mockingly. "The ward originated somewhere in Egypt or Libya. What I've been able to find doesn't give specifics for the origin. I did, however, find the counter, though you have to be outside of the ward to use it. I'm supposed to teach it to you."

Harry nodded and drew his wand.

For the next half hour they practiced, first at casting the ward and then at dispelling it. He had to admit that it was simpler than he imagined, though Daphne had to explain that the ward drew its strength largely from the casters intent rather than raw power. The greater the intent, the greater the effect of the spell and, more importantly, the longer it would last. After he'd gotten casting and rapidly dispelling the ward down she held up a vial.

"Here, take this," he took the vial and raised an eyebrow. "It'll help with fatigue. This ward isn't meant to be cast rapidly, so don't try to incorporate it into a protracted fight."

She walked from the room and he followed, slipping the empty vial into his robes as he caught up.

"How much were you told about what you were researching?" he asked as they cut through the maze of corridors towards the lift.

She shrugged.

"Croaker told me to research a ward like that, so I researched a ward like that. I don't question when I'm given a direct order from my department head. Not all of us have their daddy as a boss."

He frowned, though not at the jab about his father. He'd long since stopped caring if people had an issue that he worked for James Potter, and he'd long since proven he earned his position. That he could outduel most of his peers had quashed the largest of the whispers. Instead, he frowned at something else she said.

"Don't you think that's a little dangerous? Not questioning orders?" he asked.

They made it to the lift and she turned to face him fully.

"I don't have the time, nor the patience, to explain to you the intricacies of the Unspeakables. I suspect much of it would go over your head anyway. Regardless, to answer your real question, no, I have no specifics on why I was tasked with this. It took me away from valuable research, so it must be important, though I'd have probably tried to pawn it off on someone else had I known you were involved."

"Is your face permanently affixed with a frown or do I just bring out the best in you?" he asked with a smirk as he entered the lift. She turned to leave.

"Goodbye, Potter."

"Say hello to your sister for me!" he called, and laughed when she shot him the middle finger.

.

.

He was assisting with research for another joint investigation when a shadow fell over him. He looked up and smiled.

"Hey Ginny. Back in town?"

Ginny nodded and plopped down into the chair next to his desk. Despite their history together, their friendship hadn't diminished after breaking up, though it seemed no one had believed their split was amicable at first. All of their friends and family pestered them, trying to get the real story, until finally the two of them put their feet down. It wasn't a shock she'd stopped by and he was always happy to see her.

"Good job in the match against the Bats, by the way," he complimented, putting down his quill and turning to face her. "That goal right before the snitch sounded crazy. Wish I'd been able to see it."

"Katie yelled at me for almost ten minutes once we were back in the locker room," she said with a smile. "Said it was reckless. When I pointed out that it made sure we won despite not catching the snitch she gave me double practice."

"Ouch." Harry winced. Katie had been a good captain for them after Wood had graduated, but she was never one to be shy about voicing her concerns. "She's turning into Oliver."

Ginny laughed.

"I told her that. She laughed, agreed with me, and told me I still had double practice."

"Not that I'm not happy to see you," he started, shifting gears, "but to what do I owe the pleasure of your company today?"

She sent him a sly smile and he raised an eyebrow. He knew that look, he'd seen it for years. It meant she was here to give him a hard time about something.

"Ron tells me you made a new friend," she said teasingly.

He rolled his eyes. Of course that's why she was here.

"Ron needs to be more specific." He knew playing dumb wouldn't work, but it was always worth a shot. "I met one of the new clerks in the Minister's office last week."

"Don't play dumb with me, Potter. It doesn't suit you." She narrowed her eyes. "You know exactly who I'm referring to."

"And that would be…?"

She scoffed. "Bill's partner, or rather, ex partner. Tall? Blonde? Incredibly attractive? Ringing any bells yet?"

Harry scratched his chin.

"Does Hermione know Ron described Fleur as incredibly attractive?"

"Ron says you two had your first date the very same day you first laid eyes on her," she continued, ignoring his comment. "I want details."

"First of all," he started, "it was the second time I'd seen her. She just hadn't seen me."

"You were stalking her?"

"Second of all," he again pushed past her comment without acknowledgement, "it wasn't a date. Your mum was being her overbearing self so I simply helped her out."

"Hermione says you've gone to lunch with her a couple times since," Ginny pointed out, leaning back and putting her feet up on his desk. He raised an eyebrow and she just shrugged as she pushed the chair onto its back legs, rocking back and forth.

"Hermione would be correct. Why is she tracking my lunches?" he wondered out loud.

"And how are things going?" Ginny prodded.

He sighed and pushed his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"They're going well," he admitted, and it was the truth.

He and Fleur had hit it off quite well, and they had fun when they were together. Lunches, dinners, breakfast, or even just taking a walk in the Alley. It didn't matter what, he just enjoyed being around her. He could forget about work for a bit when he was with her. Leave behind cases, leads, and informants and just be himself. It wasn't all that often he got to do that.

Ginny was looking at him expectantly and he shrugged before sighing.

"I like her. She's funny, witty, and ridiculously smart. The way she talks about curse breaking is the way people tell me I talk about chasing down bad guys. It's nice."

He left out the part where being with Fleur let him push aside the stresses of work and just unwind. He didn't have to be an Auror around her because she wasn't tied up in anything relating to his work. He got to be just Harry, without the need to discuss secret investigations or provide updates to existing cases.

"Yes!" Ginny exclaimed, dropping the chair back onto all four legs as her face broke out into a wide smile. "I love absolutely everything about that. It's about time you found someone to connect with."

He was just about to say something when a voice sounded from behind him.

"Harry, you've got a visitor."

He turned around and saw Sirius leading Fleur towards his desk. He flashed him a cocky smile.

"This lovely young woman was looking for you," he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. "As it is my duty to help those in need, I graciously offered to lead her to you."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Say anything else and I'll tell my dad about what you got up to that day you didn't show up for work around Christmas."

The humor left his godfather's eyes, replaced with shock as the older man opened and closed his mouth several times. Harry smirked when he nodded and walked away without another word. He chuckled at Fleur's confused face.

"He was setting up a prank at my parent's place to go off on Christmas day when he should have been at work," he explained. "What can I do for you?"

She smiled.

She took a long look around the room, looking at the various empty desks and his own, appearing to check how busy they were. Finally, she looked back up at him.

"I was hoping we could go to lunch?"

"Yes," Ginny answered from behind him. Harry moved aside so that the two women got their first good look at each other. Fleur raised an eyebrow and looked at him. He shrugged.

"Fleur Delacour, meet Ginny Weasley."

Ginny was still smiling as she approached Fleur and began looking her up and down. She circled the taller woman almost like a predator circling its prey. She stopped in front of Fleur and her smile got wider.

"Girl, you are an absolute treat."

"Ginny!" he chastised. "Don't be rude."

She turned to him with a questioning look.

"What? I'm just saying she's gorgeous."

"This is your ex-girlfriend?" Fleur asked and he nodded.

"Emphasis on the ex part. As in, never going to get back together. As in, she should find somewhere else to be as I've now got lunch plans."

Ginny looked at Fleur.

"I can already tell I'm going to love you."

She grabbed Fleur by the shoulders and moved her to stand next to Harry. She stepped back and began framing the two of them with both her thumbs and index fingers, as if imagining a picture being taken. She was muttering something under her breath and nodding. Harry and Fleur looked at each other and shrugged.

"Yes," Ginny declared with a wave of her hand. "I am fully on board for this."

She leaned in towards Fleur and gave her a cocky smile.

"He's a great kisser," she whispered, "So don't worry. And he fu-"

"And that's enough for your visit today," Harry interrupted, grabbing Ginny by the arm and pulling her away from Fleur, nearly dragging her towards the lift as she laughed. He pushed her into the lift and waved his wand. She gave him two thumbs up.

"I'm rooting for you," she said quickly before the lift closed.

He sighed and rubbed his temple. He felt like that couldn't have gone any worse but then stopped and realized that, yes, it could have. As he turned around he half expected Fleur to be gone, chased away by his well meaning, but ultimately troublesome ex, yet she was still standing there. A little dazed, but still there nonetheless. He walked back over and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Is she…always like that?" Fleur asked.

"I, well, haven't really done…this much since her and I broke up," he admitted, and he wondered if he'd revealed too much too soon. He'd hate to scare her away.

"Gone on lunch dates?"

"Or any dates," he confirmed.

She smiled and then shrugged before interlocking her arm with his.

"Well, I shall try to be entertaining. Shall we?"

He nodded. "Where to, captain?"

"I was thinking we could walk around Diagon Alley and find something there?" she suggested and he nodded.

"Sounds like a plan to me."

They made it out of the building in record time, only being stopped once by a junior Auror who wanted to ask Harry's opinion on a counter-curse. Fleur was unbothered by the interruption, though he caught her watching the interaction with a curious eye. They popped onto a side street and made their way through the Cauldron towards Diagon Alley.

"You handled that well," she said as they walked slowly down the Alley.

Most kept to the two main streets that ran down the center, both ending at the entrance of Gringotts, but there were several nice food places on some of the side streets that he thought she'd enjoy.

"I used to be like them," he said with a smile. "The least I can do is be less of a task master than Alastor Moody was. Though they don't have to feel his wrath in training these days."

His mind wandered back to his early days at the academy, fresh out of Hogwarts and ready to take on the world. His enthusiasm lasted about a day before the booming voice of Mad Eye Moody sank its way into his head. The old, bitter Auror was skilled, but he was a tough old bastard, unafraid to teach new recruits by repeated painful demonstration.

"Oh?" she said as they stopped at a shop window for her to look in. "Do they conduct training differently now?"

He nodded as he instinctually scanned the area for threats.

"The Ministry felt the old training methods were a bit…harsh. Neville and I were the last to go through the old program."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Do you think it helped you be a better Auror?"

He shrugged as they started walking again.

"I have no idea. I hated it at the time, but what Nev and I learned saved our lives on more than one occasion, so I can't say it went to waste."

They came upon the entrance to Knockturn and Fleur stopped, peering into the dark alley with a questioning look.

"We should keep moving," he said in a low voice, his body tensing.

Knockturn hadn't been a problem in years, but it was never a good idea to loiter in the area. That was especially true for someone like Fleur, who was unfamiliar with the history of the British wizarding world.

"Is this the so-called Knockturn Alley I've heard about?" asked Fleur, turning her head towards him.

"Yeah, and it's not completely safe so we should keep moving."

"If it's not safe why not make it so?"

He paused and stared at her, the question having caught him slightly off guard. He'd asked the same question years ago when he'd first been assigned to patrolling the Alley. He'd been given several different answers, some of them conflicting with each other. Ultimately, he'd settled on it being a necessary evil.

"Easier to keep an eye on the shady parts of society if they all gather in one place," he explained before looking down into the dark corridor ahead. "Though there are some legitimate businesses that operate there. The rent is significantly cheaper on account of the location and general lack of sunlight. Kind of puts a damper on the spirits."

Fleur pointed to one of the bigger shops that was visible in the Alley.

"What's that one? It seems bigger."

He cocked his head and looked.

"That's Borgin and Burke," he said, "though these days it's more Burke than Borgin."

"Did they split?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Not that we're aware. Some think that they got into a fight and Burke killed him, but that's just rumors." He sighed. "Burke is a major player in the smuggling market here, but he runs a tight ship. Everything he does is above board on the surface."

She raised her eyebrows.

"He gets away with it?"

"Yeah, sadly we've never been able to pin anything to him officially. He's dirty, we know that, but he's careful."

"Have you not tried raiding his shop?" she asked, causing Harry to laugh lightly.

"We've tried to get approval two dozen times but we get shot down every time due to lack of evidence."

"Should I be concerned about this Mr. Burke?" she asked innocently. "Is he the most dangerous among you?"

Harry shook his head. "Nah, Burke won't give anyone working around here problems. The Lestrange family might cause a scene, but Burke keeps things quiet. It does him no good to start trouble."

She took one last long look at the shop before turning back to him with a smile.

"I'm sure you'll get him eventually. From what I've heard, you're pretty good at your job." She intertwined her arm with his. "Now, I believe we were on the way to lunch."

.

.

She covered her mouth as she laughed loudly.

"You didn't!" she exclaimed in disbelief.

"I did," Harry confirmed with a smile, taking another bite of his sandwich. They'd settled on a small shop not far from the main path of Diagon Alley.

"Dumbledore looked at me like he'd lost all faith in me and said, 'I'm terribly disappointed in you, my boy.' or something like that."

"And what did you say?" she asked.

Harry shrugged.

"I told him my mum had been saying the same thing since I was born, so he's in good company."

Fleur laughed again, though she tried to contain it as she noticed some of the other people around them giving her dirty looks.

"I lost so many house points that day that we never recovered," he continued, "and they banned me from playing Quidditch the rest of the year. I received two letters the next day. One from my parents expressing how disappointed they were, and how they'd be speaking to me about it once I returned home. The other was from Sirius telling me that he and my dad had never been more proud of me in their lives."

Fleur's stomach hurt from laughing and her face was beginning to get sore from smiling. Harry had a seemingly infinite number of stories from his time at Hogwarts, having been taught from an early age by his father and godfather the best ways to misbehave. In many ways, his stories made her feel young again, like she didn't have anything to worry about. It was one of the reasons she cherished their dates.

She pushed her plate away from her and took a sip of water, wiping her mouth on her napkin.

"So I've been wondering," Harry said, frowning slightly, "we've been on several dates now and I'd like to think we're a pretty good pair."

She raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"That's the lamest way I've ever had someone insinuate we're dating." He blushed, and she got the sense it wasn't something he did often. He had a confidence about him that she found refreshing. "It was adorable though."

He rolled his eyes.

"Well yeah, I knew that already."

"I take it back," she mocked, turning her nose up before her facade broke and she smiled. "You had a question?"

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"What made you want to start over here?"

Fleur froze, unable to move for a brief moment as her mind went blank, caught off guard by the question. She took a deep breath. She was going to have to tell him eventually, so there was no sense in trying to avoid it now. Just because he knew some of why she was here didn't mean he'd know everything.

At least that's what she told herself.

"I…I…" she started before stopping, trying to find the words. She struggled for several moments before she felt a hand go over hers. She looked up and saw an understanding smile on his face.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. There's no pressure."

She smiled and squeezed his hand.

"No, it's okay. You'd have found out eventually," she admitted. "My sister died. It was…is hard. Egypt had too many memories of her visits for me to stay."

He nodded, but didn't offer any words and she was grateful for that. Most people gave her fake sympathy and sad smiles, usually followed by some sort of attempt to normalize her hurt, compare it to their own. She hated it all, so it was refreshing to simply get a nod of understanding. Her eyes almost widened at the realization that she'd spoken about Gabby without her heart hurting.

Perhaps Harry would be better for her than she thought.

He paid for their meal and stood, offering her a hand to help her up.

"Well, now that I've completely ruined the mood, how about I make it up to you?" he asked sincerely.

She raised an eyebrow.

"You don't have questions?" she asked, unsure.

Harry shrugged as they began making their way towards the main street.

"I figure you'll tell me more about your sister when you want. Losing family is hard, and everyone deals with it differently. I'm sure I'll learn about her when you're ready to tell me."

Her heart nearly burst as it swelled and she grabbed his hand, stopping him. He turned towards her with a questioning look. She moved closer to him and pressed a kiss to his lips, trying to let him know how much his words meant to her. As she broke away she laughed at his dazed look.

"Thank you, Harry," she said softly before smiling. "Now, you said we were headed somewhere?"

He finally recovered and nodded his head.

"Ice cream!" he exclaimed.

Neither had a problem with their fingers remaining intertwined as they walked back towards the main street of the Alley. She saw Harry check the time quickly and smile at her.

"They just made a fresh batch," he said, causing her to raise an eyebrow.

"You know when Florean Fortescue's makes their ice cream?"

He shrugged as they turned at the next intersection, the parlour coming into view.

"I have…history with the place," he said with a small laugh. "You learn a lot about a business when you interact with the owners enough."

She raised an eyebrow as they reached the small shop and Harry opened the door for her.

"What sort of history?" she asked.

"For Merlin's sake!" a voice called from the other side of the shop. Fleur looked over and saw Florean Fortescue looking at this, his brow furrowed as he waved to his wife. "Everyone take cover. A walking disaster just entered."

Harry laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Hello Mr. Florean," he said.

"Don't 'hello' me, Mr. Potter," Florean said, wagging a finger in their direction as he tried to look around them. "Is that no-good godfather with you?"

"No, sir. He's working."

"Probably destroying someone else's shop." He looked at Fleur and smiled. "Miss, I do hope I'm not the first one to tell you this, but the man in your company is trouble."

Fleur smirked up at Harry, sending him a wink for good measure.

"Oh, I know that, Mr. Florean. Tell me, what did this good-for-nothing do to your humble shop?" she asked in mock wonder.

Florean smiled.

"He and his godfather were supposed to help with some bad business we had a few years ago. Instead," he said, glaring at Harry, "our custom ice cream maker exploded."

Fleur widened her eyes and she placed her hand over her chest dramatically. Harry sent her an unamused look and she nearly laughed. Nothing against having a bit of fun with her boyfriend.

"How wretched!" she exclaimed.

"Finally, someone else who understands my plight!" Mr. Florean said with a smile. "Miss, what can I get for you? Any flavor you want, we have it."

"I'm ashamed to admit, Mr. Florean, that I'm rather dull with my ice cream choices. Could you help me out?"

The older man nodded before looking down at his utensils. She could see he was deep in thought as he looked between them, occasionally turning around to check his ingredients. Eventually he smiled at her.

"I've got just the thing!"

With that he set off, waving his wand and gathering various ingredients. She'd been here before, several times in fact, her sweet tooth being what it was, but this was the first time she'd seen Mr. Florean so animated. She looked up at Harry.

"Wow, he really doesn't like you."

He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Eh, it's mostly an act, though Sirius and I did blow up his ice cream maker," he said, running a hand through his hair. "It was an accident, and his wife was very concerned about our safety. She's as nice as he is grumpy."

"It is finished!" Mr. Florean exclaimed, holding out a large cone for Fleur to grab.

She took the offered cone and bit into it. Immediately the sweet delicate taste of fine ice cream hit her senses, sending a wave of satisfaction through her mouth.

"I knew you were a fan of chocolate from all the mint chocolate chip you've ordered previously," he explained, shocking Fleur. They'd never before interacted directly, yet he still knew what she'd always ordered. That was rather impressive. "I decided to mix the chocolate chips into vanilla and add in little bits of cookie dough and waffle cone. How is it?"

She swallowed the bite and a wide smile broke out across her face.

"Mr. Florean, this is the best ice cream cone I've ever had."

The man smiled shyly and waved his hand.

"Oh, Miss, you flatter me."

"Do I get to taste that?" Harry asked.

The older man looked up at him, grabbing a small cup from the table in front of him and handing it to Harry.

"Here," he said gruffly, "A single scoop of vanilla for you."

Fleur giggled as Harry rolled his eyes and paid for their treats, steering them towards the small table near the window. She took another bite and a small moan of pleasure escaped her lips.

"Should I leave you two alone?" Harry asked her.

"Mmm hmm," she said as she took another bite. "Ank ou arry."

Harry shook his head.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

She stuck her tongue out at him before taking another bite, amusement dancing in her eyes as she realized Mr. Florean hadn't given Harry a spoon.

Chapter Text

Her wand returned to the holster as she stepped into the back room of the large, though aging shop. Borgin and Burke held a lot of items of questionable repute, she could see that from the shelves, yet she'd found nothing within its walls that was truly illegal. Harry had been correct, Burke was careful when it came to his dealings, leaving out enough things to taunt the Aurors but not enough for them to step foot into his establishment with any regularity.

Fleur frowned. She felt guilty for using Harry the way she had, pretending to have no knowledge of Knockturn and Burke to see what he'd reveal. Their lunch had been fantastic, and they were planning on seeing each other again soon, but the voice in the back of her head had spoken to her the entire meal, chastising her for the deceit.

She justified it by telling herself if Harry knew why he wouldn't have a problem with it.

Now was not the time to get distracted, she thought, shaking her head. It had been child's play getting into the building. Burke may have set up an extensive amount of wards, but nothing she hadn't dealt with before. Many of them were old, likely erected when the business was established and never maintained properly. She smiled at the thought.

Her biggest ally in everything she'd done had been time and laziness.

It was shocking to her how few people really knew how to maintain wards. Most were under the misguided assumption that you set a ward and that was the end of it. That line of thought led to ward decay, especially if there was no runestone to anchor the wards to. You need to maintain and re-strengthen your wards, keep your runestone in good condition, otherwise you give people like Fleur the opportunity to do what they do best.

Not that she was complaining.

She quickly began going through the filing cabinets, slightly impressed by how orderly Burke kept his records. Everything was arranged alphabetically by year, making it easy to go through. She found nothing in the cabinets, Though his own records had all the hallmarks of the store being a front for something else. Harry was right, Burke knew he was skirting a line with perfection and he had no problems showing the Ministry that he was well aware of that fact.

An additional ward on the desk in the far corner caught her eye as she moved to it. She unholstered her wand and began waving it in a practiced motion. In her experience, specific locations within a building that had their own wards were either important or decoys. He wand pulsed rapidly as it provided her the necessary information. It was a crude spell on the desk, a simple sparking ward that would ignite the contents within if crossed. She detected no fail safes or trickery. Likely cast with haste as someone was leaving.

Sloppy work. Trivially easy for her to get through.

With the ward bypassed she rummaged through the desk, going over various papers until she paused on one specific page dated a week back. It was a receipt for an old Egyptian artifact she recognized. It had been in the manifest from one of the locations she'd tracked back in France. There was a small handwritten note at the bottom.

Nott's group is getting impatient regarding the remaining items, specifically the ashes. They're meeting soon and want an update. Said their boss is unhappy and has asked if they need to get involved personally. Bought myself time.

She stepped away from the desk and reactivated Burke's ward, making sure to include the subtle flaws she'd found while testing it. She repeated the process for the main wards as she retraced her steps out of the building. Luc would want to see what had been found, but that could wait until the morning. She looked around and saw no one milling about. She readjusted her hood and, with a slight smirk, popped away with no noise.

Another success for the Shadow.

.

.

Harry sighed and his shoulders tensed as he walked through the entrance to Knockturn, the natural light of the adjoining Alley quickly leaving. He spotted Burke standing in the doorway to his shop, arms folded across his chest in anger. The man was unpleasant to interact with on a good day, so he was sure to be a joy today. As Harry got closer the older man's eyes narrowed and he huffed.

"About damn time you showed up," he said, "Fat lot of good you are."

Harry sighed again.

"Good morning, Mr. Burke. You reported a break in?"

"What gave it away?" Burke replied sarcastically. "Could it have been the fact that I've been standing here waiting for you? You sure took your sweet time making your way over."

"Mr. Burke," Harry tried to keep his voice level, though his temper was rising. "You reported the break in less than an hour ago. The last time you reported a break in you accused the Auror who responded of committing the theft themselves."

"I did no such thing you filthy liar!" Burke said indignantly, uncrossing his arms and standing up to his full height. He was shorter than Harry, and not a true threat, but also not one to fully relax around. The shorter man waved a finger into Harry's face. "You Aurors will say anything!"

Harry glared down at him.

"Mr. Burke, I was the responding Auror last time, so I know damn well what you said. Now, are you going to let me investigate your break in or do you intend to keep throwing a fit in front of your shop? If it's the latter please let me know, I've got far better things to do with my time than babysit a grown man."

The bluster left the slimy man and he turned around swiftly, muttering under his breath about useless Aurors as they moved into the shop. Silently, Harry cursed Burke for being a pain in the arse. Stepping in, he expected to find broken items and shelves. Overturned potions and doors hanging by their hinges. The typical scene of a breaking in.

What he found was a shop in pristine condition.

Well, as pristine as Borgin and Burke got.

Which was to say, all the dirt and grime was exactly where it usually was.

They walked all the way to the back of the shop before Burke stopped in the doorway to the connecting room, spinning around and glaring at Harry.

"See? Someone broke in!"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"How can you tell?" he asked.

"How can I tell?" Burke repeated in disbelief. "I just know!"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten. Burke was a reasonable man, shady, but reasonable, yet he wondered if perhaps the man was having some sort of episode. There was no sign of a break in at first glance, though appearances could be deceiving. He looked around again, stepping between the various shelves and inspecting them, hands clasped firmly behind his back lest he be accused of stealing. Finally, after finding nothing, he returned to Burke.

"Mr. Burke, do I have your permission to cast some diagnostic spells on your wards? They will not tell me the nature of your wards, simply provide me details on if they have been breached or not."

The man nodded and waved dismissively. Harry took that as confirmation and began casting a few spells, waving his wand towards the four corners of the main shop space. His wand tip glowed green, then pulsed blue, before finally returning back to green. He looked back at Burke.

"Do you have a runestone?"

"What kind of question is that?" responded Burke. "Of course I've got a damn runestone!"

"Have you inspected it for damage?" Harry asked.

"Of course I have you dimwit. It was the first thing I did when I arrived. It's in perfect condition."

Harry gestured around the shop.

"Mr. Burke, I'm not finding anything that indicates there's been a break in. The wards are not giving any indication that they've been breached, and your items all seem to be in…perfect condition."

Burke gestured for him to follow and Harry joined the man in the back room. He looked up at Harry impatiently before gesturing down at the desk in the far corner of the room.

"See?" he said, pointing again to the desk, "someone was in here!"

Harry looked around the room. It was a standard office room, a row of shelves lined the back wall containing various books, though none jumped out at Harry as particularly noteworthy. One of the other walls had a row of filing cabinets along it, likely where Burke kept all his business records. The desk that the man was pointing at was littered with loose sheets of parchment, no particular sorting or reason to their placement.

"What am I looking at here?" asked Harry.

Burke sighed as if he were speaking with a child. Harry resisted the urge to growl, his impatience at the man growing with each passing minute.

"These papers are in a completely different order than they were yesterday when I left."

Harry tilted his head to the side.

"What order is that? It just looks like a bunch of papers scattered across the desk."

"That's exactly it!" Burke said, snapping his fingers. "They were scattered in a different order when I left yesterday."

Harry dropped his head and exhaled slowly. He was convinced that Burke was having some sort of medical incident.

"Mr. Burke, I can't investigate anything based on papers being scattered differently," he explained.

"And why exactly not?"

"There's no indication of a break in here, Mr. Burke," Harry repeated with a sigh. "The shop is in perfect condition, your wards are fine, and you checked the runestone when you arrived. This room looks to be in order. I can't help you, Mr. Burke."

"Typical," Burke spat, "I don't even know why I wasted my time. What good are you lot if you can't even help a business owner who has had their privacy invaded? Hmm?"

Harry turned around and began walking out, sending a wave behind him as he passed through the shop.

"Have a nice day, Mr. Burke. Perhaps take the day off, you seem stressed."

He walked quickly out of the building and didn't slow his pace until he was back in Diagon Alley proper, letting out a slow exhale as the sun hit his face. He hated Knockturn, not for its content like many thought. There were legitimate businesses operating in its confines, mostly from people who just wanted to ply their craft or sell their wares. No, he hated Knockturn for the lack of light and the way it brought his mood down.

Reaching into his robes he pulled out the small mirror.

"James Potter."

After a few seconds the image of his father appeared.

"How'd the check in go?" James asked, peering at him through the mirror.

He'd insisted that Harry bring the mirror with him to Knockturn, a compromise for letting him go alone though Harry had argued against it. He'd always hated the fragile mirror, mostly because he had the sneaky suspicion it could open the connection without acknowledgement. As such, he always felt like someone was spying on him when he carried it. Unfortunately, he understood his fathers concern. An Auror should never go into Knockturn alone.

"Pretty sure Burke is losing his mind," he replied with a sigh. "No sign of anything missing, no property damage, nothing that would indicate someone was there."

James raised an eyebrow. "You check the wards?"

"Did I check the wards?" Harry repeated. "Do I look like a rookie? Of course I checked the wards."

"I'm just making sure," the elder Potter replied with a chuckle. "So what triggered the call?"

"The papers on his desk were rearranged."

Silence.

"I'm sorry, I think the mirror might have had an issue," James said with disbelief, "it sounded like you said the papers on his desk were rearranged."

"Yeah, like I said, I'm pretty sure he's going senile. Or he's working on something super illegal and someone's got him spooked. Maybe it's not going all to plan?"

"Eh, that's just guessing at this point, though Dawlish and Tonks do think they can connect him to another investigation soon, if not directly then indirectly," James explained. "Are you coming back to the office?"

Harry shook his head.

"No, I'm headed to the bank. I've got to do my monthly check-in with our Ministry liaison."

"Right, that stupid Ministry/Goblin enrichment program." After a moment James smiled. "Are you perhaps planning to liaison with another Gringotts employee after?"

"I'm dropping the mirror off with Fred and George before I head into the bank. Tell Sirius he can come get it himself."

"What? Why?" protested James.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Because I hate this stupid thing and I don't need you listening in on my conversations, regardless of who I'm liaising with."

Harry killed the connection and slipped the mirror back into his robes. James Potter was a talented Auror and a fantastic dad, but he had an annoying habit of being able to guess Harry's intentions when it came to dating. He did plan to see Fleur after speaking with the goblins, she'd invited him to see her work a few times and this morning had proven to be the perfect opportunity to stop in and surprise her. He was curious, after all.

He tried to ignore the feeling of her lips on his that passed over him as he walked towards the joke shop.

.

.

Harry strolled down the hallway of the bank, quietly whistling as he did. The Minister had created a new initiative several years ago to "improve the relationship between goblins and humans in the magical world." Harry had, somehow, ended up being selected to be the Ministry liaison to the bank. He wasn't sure what he had done in a previous life to be subjected to this, though he suspected someone in the Minister's office didn't like him.

Regardless, his responsibility as liaison consisted solely of meeting with his goblin counterpart once a month and, for the most part, trading insults for a few minutes before leaving. He smiled as he reached his destination, knocked twice, and entered without waiting for a reply.

The goblin behind the desk scowled at him as he entered.

"Will you ever learn proper manners, Potter?"

Harry smiled.

"Come on Ironshield, I'm your favorite wizard and you know it."

"Bah," the goblin said, curling his lip in disgust. "You're a pain in my ass and a nuisance."

Harry held his hand over his heart.

"That hurts, my friend. I thought we were really starting to get to know each other. I was even going to invite you to my next birthday party."

"Is there a reason you're bothering me?" Ironshield demanded.

"The Ministry just wants to check in to see if there is anything the goblin nation needs that we can be of assistance with?"

"Can you never darken my door again?" the goblin said, looking up over his half moon glasses.

"Afraid not, my friend. My hands, like yours, are tied," said Harry with a smirk of amusement.

"Then leave."

Harry remained where he was, hands clasped behind his back. He knew Ironshield had, like him, been forced to take this position by his superiors, though he doubted very much that the goblin got as much fun out of it as he did.

Ironshield looked back up and scowled.

"Why are you still here?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ironshield, you know I can't leave until you ask if I can help. It's in the contract signed by our respective governments. Wouldn't want to be in breach of contract."

A distinct growl could be heard.

"Can the goblin nation be of assistance to the Ministry in any way?" Ironshield ground out.

Harry nodded.

"Yes, actually." Harry smiled. That got the cranky goblins attention. "Where is your curse breaking division?"

Ironshield raised an eyebrow.

"Around the corner, second door on your right. Why?"

Harry shrugged.

"A friend recently transferred here, thought I'd pay her a visit."

Ironshield's eyes lit up.

"Then by all means, go bother Ms. Delacour, please."

Harry nodded his head and stepped out of the office, not surprised that Ironshield knew who he was talking about. He suspected every goblin in the building was aware of any new human employees that made their way to the bank. He had seen a gradual shift over the years as more human employees had been brought into positions within the walls of the building. As he made it to the door of the curse breaking division he wondered if that was a product of demand or simply not enough goblins to fill rolls that weren't out in the field.

He opened the door quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone or break their concentration, though he had no idea what awaited him on the other side. Not a lot, it turned out, as he stepped into a wide room with workbenches along all walls. Various tools and measuring devices, big and small, littered the tops of the benches. Hanging above all the workbenches were bookshelves, completely stuffed with tombs of various sizes.

In the center of the room was another, smaller workbench, though there was no clutter on it. A single book lay open below what looked like a necklace suspended in the air by an odd pink mist. Next to the workbench stood Fleur, brow creased as she chewed on her thumbnail, apparently deep in concentration. She wore a brown apron over her robes and her hair had been tied back in a messy bun. She looked down at the book, completely unaware of the door opening.

"Knock, knock," he said to catch her attention.

She looked up and a smile spread across her face.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" she asked before her smile was replaced by confusion. "Are you allowed to be back here?"

He shrugged.

"I had a meeting with Ironshield. He kicked me out and told me to come bother you."

She smiled again as she walked over to him and gave him a brief hug.

"He can be a bit…gruff, can't he?"

"Sirius thinks that all goblins are incredibly pleasant to be around when they're born but are taught from an early age to perfect the grumpy yet dismissive attitude they all share," Harry said, looking past her towards the floating necklace. "I figured I'd come see where you spend your days. You always talk about how much it relaxes you so I thought I should check it out."

He gestured towards the necklace.

"Anything interesting?"

She nodded and returned to the workbench, motioning for him to follow.

"Yes, very, though I'm not sure how interesting you'll find it," she said as they stopped in front of the floating necklace.

"You'd be surprised what I've got floating around in my head," Harry teased, tapping his index finger against his temple. "It's not all quidditch and pranks up here."

"This is a piece that was found at a dig site in northern Africa," she explained, pointing down to the book. He looked down and saw that it was a tomb of old African magic. "I'm trying to determine how old it is."

"Why does age matter?"

She gave him a smirk.

"Because it's cursed."

Harry laughed and nodded.

"Right, stupid question," he admitted. "So, you're trying to determine the age so you can see about lining it up with prominent curses from that time period?"

Her eyes lit up at his words and he couldn't help but smile as the excitement in her eyes was almost infectious.

"Exactly! If I can just figure out how old it is then usually I can find a way to break the curse on the object."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Why'd they have to bring it here? Couldn't they have broken the curse in the field? I figured that's why you were out in Egypt with Bill, yeah?"

She shook her head.

"Non. Egypt is unique in that there are far more cursed objects found versus any other sites in the world. So, instead of just having an excavation team and then a curse breaking team at the bank, Gringotts combines them and sends the curse breakers with the excavation team. It cuts down on the time it takes to process new pieces."

He nodded.

"That makes sense. You've got so much being found that it just slows down the machine. I'm guessing everywhere else in the world just sends their pieces to the local branch?" he asked.

She nodded. Harry could see the pride in her face and a smile spread on his face once more. He'd never spoken to someone who had so much passion for what they did. Who was so excited by their line of work. Even people who loved what they did, like his mum and dad, never spoke of their work with such enthusiasm.

It was honestly kind of refreshing to him.

"Oui. Though there is a branch closer to where this piece was found, they sent it here for me to look at."

"Oh?" he asked. "Why's that?"

Fleur smiled sheepishly.

"I have a reputation for getting results. Most of the pieces I work on are from other branches around the world."

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn't been aware that Fleur was such a known entity in the curse breaking circles. She'd always struck him as someone who was good at what they did, but he wasn't aware of just how good she was.

"Am I in the presence of a real-life celebrity?" he teased, nudging her elbow with his as he looked at her with a smirk. "Should I ask for your autograph?"

She swatted him lightly.

"None of that," she dismissed before going back to the book and turning a page. "Bill is, in all honesty, a better curse breaker than I am."

"Yet he's still in Egypt and you're here, which is a promotion from what you've told me."

Fleur shrugged casually, but he could tell that she was being modest.

"I have a certain…tenacity to my work. Bill has an uncanny ability to break curses with ease, but doesn't have the patience for things that might take longer. Give me the right tools and a stack of books and I'll hand back an uncursed object in time."

Harry gestured towards the necklace.

"So, what's this one's story?"

She shrugged again.

"I don't know," she admitted. "They found it in a dig in Africa and it had a pretty nasty reaction to the first breaker who tried to remove the curse. It's been dangerous to touch since then."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"So what's the weird pink mist? I've never seen anything like it."

She smiled, though he would classify it more as beamed.

"A bit of magic of my own design."

"Merlin's balls," Harry said as his mouth fell open, "you know how to create your own spells?"

She laughed and nodded.

"Some spells and charms, yes. I've got a mastery in charms, actually. It sometimes becomes necessary to bring in a new spell or charm to the process. Like this one." She gestured towards the mist. "The mist holds the object up without magic directly touching it. The last time magic touched this object it blasted the person two metres back. Though I think I've just about solved that issue."

She pulled her wand from the apron and began moving it in a small circle, muttering under her breath as she did. She briefly glanced back down at the page before making a triangle with her wand and then jabbing it at the necklace. The object glowed a soft, pale green before pulsing orange. After pulsing for several moments the light faded and Fleur reached out and grabbed the necklace, the mist immediately dissipating as her hand closed around the golden chain.

She smiled at him.

"That seems to have worked."

"Did you know it was going to work?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She shook her head.

"Non, not with certainty."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.

"And if it hadn't?" he asked.

She shrugged and smirked at him.

"You would have been here to save the damsel in distress."

He shook his head and sighed. He'd been around cursed objects before, seen them go off, and knew that she was playing off the severity of the situation with a joke.

"So, what now?" he asked.

She held the necklace up for him to take.

"Would you like to help me remove the other curse?"

"Um, this thing isn't going to explode if I touch it, right?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Auror," she said with a wink, "I'll be here to protect you."

Harry grabbed the necklace and held it up at eye level, arms slightly extended away from his body. He trusted Fleur's words, figured that she knew what she was doing after so long, but there was a part of him that was raging in his mind to drop the damn thing before his hands melted or met some other gruesome fate.

He ignored that part of himself.

She turned the page in the book and read a short passage before turning back.

"Now, we determine the age," she explained and again she began a series of intricate wand motions while muttering under her breath. As she did, several noises escaped from the necklace in succession, though Harry hadn't the faintest idea where they had been trapped at. Finally, it began to vibrate slightly and glow a deep purple before returning to normal.

He placed the necklace down on the bench as Fleur pulled a small notepad out of her apron, flipping through the pages in rapid succession.

"Another spell of your design?" he questioned.

She nodded.

"One of the first I ever developed. The noises, colours, and behavior upon casting it help me determine the age. To confirm, it vibrated, yes?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah," he confirmed before rubbing the back of his neck. "Not going to lie, had it started flashing red I'd have probably dropped it and ran away."

"And leave me to my fate?" she asked with mock offense. "How terribly rude."

"I think you could have handled yourself." He looked at the notepad. "What's the word? How old is this piece of jewelry?"

Fleur wrote something in the notepad before widening her eyes and looking up at him.

"It appears it's from the ninth century. This piece is old, yet it looks so…"

"Well preserved," he finished.

She nodded her head as she rapidly flipped through the book on the workbench, stopping after several moments. She ran her hands along the page as she read and once again Harry found himself impressed by her. He understood fully why she was good at what she did. Creating spells, researching history, and bringing it all together to break curses? It was enough to make him wonder if he shouldn't be doing more at his own job.

He dismissed that thought. There were enough bad guys out there without the need for more work.

"Step back," she instructed and he did so without hesitation, the shift in her tone sounding much like his dad when they were out in the field.

She began another series of motions with her wand, though these were slower than the last. As she began to mutter the necklace began to shake violently before it was encased in what looked like a glass bubble. Just as the bubble closed the necklace shot to one side, hitting the invisible barrier. It continued to try to escape, each attempt coming faster and faster, before it was eventually a continuous blur of motion. Fleur's wand motions had gotten faster, but she had stopped muttering.

"Send a blasting curse at the bubble," she commanded.

Instantly his wand was out and the words on his lips. The spell traveled the short distance and struck the barrier, shattering it. Everything seemed to stop as the necklace fell back to the workbench. Neither of them moved.

"Is it…still alive?" he asked lamely. Fleur tilted her head to the side as she looked at him.

"That was just the curse attempting one last act of rebellion. It's just a necklace now."

He nodded and approached the workbench, grabbing the object and letting it hang from his fingers. Such a delicate object, yet the magic of the curse had been almost hateful in how it raged against being forcibly removed from the place it had been for so long. He looked down at Fleur as she wrote notes on a piece of parchment she had retrieved from one of the benches along the wall.

"Come here," he said.

She looked up at him with a questioning gaze but moved towards him. He slipped behind her and undid the clasp on the necklace, slipping it over her head and around her neck.

"Harry, that's not-"

"Just let me," he said, "I promise, you'll look good."

He summoned a mirror and she gasped as she touched the thin golden chain around her neck.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

He nodded.

"Knew it would look good on you." He smiled. "I bet you had a line of guys begging you to go on a date with them back in France."

She nodded, though he caught a small hint of sadness flash through her features before she looked at him in the mirror.

"I did," she confirmed before unclasping the necklace and turning around to face him. "I turned them all down."

"Ouch," he said with a smile as she turned and placed the necklace in a small box she had summoned from the wall. "'Fleur Delacour, Breaker of Curses.' She's world renowned for her skills in charms and making objects safe, but who was she before all that?"

He smirked before continuing, eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Before that she was 'Fleur Delacour, Breaker of Hearts.' The boys never knew what they were getting themselves into." He struck a dramatic pose as he finished.

She threw her head back and laughed, causing him to laugh as well. The tension in the room evaporated as their laughter filled the space, making them forget about the dangerous curse that had just been shattered. She made her way back to him for a hug as her laughter died.

"Thank you, Harry," she said sincerely. "Not even my family has taken much of an interest in my work and…it was nice to have someone outside of the bank want to learn about it. I was pretty lost on what I wanted to do after school but once I found this it was like something clicked into place. So thank you."

He shrugged.

"Anytime. Honestly, I find all of this incredibly fascinating. Who knows, maybe when I'm ready to stop being 'Harry Potter, Handsome Auror' I'll become a curse breaker?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"It sounds like I'm to protect you from dangerous necklaces and other objects," she pointed out, though her eyes were shining with humor.

"That sounds like a promise," he replied, his own eyes holding the same mirth.

She smirked.

"Sure, I'll protect you, it's the least I can do after you so gallantly held up an almost-normal necklace."

.

.

There was an owl waiting for her when she returned home, perched patiently in her window. She removed the letter and provided the owl with some treats before the bird flapped its wings to take off. She tore open the letter and read the short contents.

Fire call me when you're back

She burned the letter and banished the ashes before walking over to the fireplace. She grabbed a bit of powder and threw it into the fire before sticking her head in.

"Luc? Are you there?" she asked.

"Ah, Fleur, I've been waiting for you," he responded, "Are you alone?"

Fleur had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes.

"Yes, I'm alone. What's so important?"

"I found it," he said triumphantly.

Fleur raised an eyebrow.

"Found what?"

"Details on the meeting. The one you found out about at that git Burke's place."

She nodded her head.

"Well?"

"Burke's reference to 'Nott's group' seems to be referring to, from the outside, a group of like-minded investors who all pool their money together to increase their collective wealth," Luc explained.

"And the actual purpose of the group?" asked Fleur.

"My contacts weren't able to give me any specifics, but it sounds like they're all part of some cult. They've been hearing whispers of Nott and Malfoy working for someone with more influence than both of them."

"What did you find out about the meeting?" she asked, realizing that the specifics of their entire organization structure were less important to her than getting the results she'd been working towards.

"Sounds like the elder Nott is hosting a gathering at his family manor in two weeks. My contacts say that Nott never hosts any public events, but that these meetings have a tendency to make waves in the black market."

Fleur bit her lip as she thought. Nott was clearly their next lead, but how to approach it was another matter. They'd been smart about their moves, it would do them no good to get sloppy now.

"So the Shadow should pay the manor a visit before their little meeting?" she asked.

Luc shook his head.

"No, that won't be possible," he replied with a frown. "Malfoy's wards were child's play owing to him being such a prominent public figure who loves to entertain at his home. Nott uses traditional pureblood blood wards. We won't be able to get in until the night of the meeting when he adjusts them to let in visitors. My contact will have the exact date tomorrow."

Fleur nodded and pulled her head out of the fire, standing up to her full height before moving towards the bedroom. It was unfortunate that they had to wait, but she knew this was never going to be a short process. The people she was dealing with were careful to stay off the radar of the Aurors and that meant working at a set pace to ensure no mistakes.

She shook her head.

It didn't matter how careful they were, she would find their boss eventually.

Chapter Text

Harry stepped out of the lift and was immediately met by Neville. He raised an eyebrow at the serious look on his soon-to-be ex partner's face. Neville was on desk duty, so he shouldn't be working on anything that was worrisome.

"Something happened?" he asked.

Neville jerked his head towards the opposite side of the room.

"James called an emergency meeting, just been waiting for you. Let's go."

Harry followed Neville through the department and into the large meeting room that was next to his dad's office. He tensed as he realized they were heading into what was unofficially called "The War Room." It was the location they planned all raids. Stepping in, Neville closed the door behind them, tapping his wand against the oak surface, activating the privacy wards built into the walls.

Harry looked around and saw that nearly every senior Auror was there. Frank and Alice sat at one end of the long table in the middle of the room, talking quietly with James and Sirius. At the other end of the table were Dawlish, Tonks, Seamus, Proudfoot and, surprisingly, Draco Malfoy. None of the junior Aurors were there, which told him this was likely big. They all looked up as Harry entered, his father nodding at the sight.

"Good, you're here, we can get started," James stated before looking at Dawlish and Tonks. "You two want to give everyone the rundown?"

Dawlish shrugged but nodded before looking at Tonks. She rolled her eyes and stood, flicking her wand at the large board that covered half of the back wall. Instantly, a large amount of writing and pinned documents appeared, and Harry tried to take it all in. The information was vast, and nearly every spot of the board was covered with some bits of it.

"There is a lot up there," Tonks said, pointing at the board, "So I'll try to summarize. Feel free to ask questions as needed."

"Over the last few months," she started, tapping the picture stuck to the middle of the board. Harry took a seat and leaned forward to get a better look. It appeared to be an idol of some sort. "We've been getting reports of increased activity in the black market. Initially we didn't think much of it, but then this piece was recovered in a raid in Northern France by their Auror team. This artifact had been stolen from the archives of a private citizen here in the UK, which was concerning, but not as concerning as what we found within the idol."

She reached down and grabbed something from below the board before turning around and placing it on the table. It was a small jar filled with silver liquid.

"Unicorn blood," she said and Harry widened his eyes.

Trading in unicorn blood was highly illegal worldwide and being caught in such activities carried a steep cost. That included death in some countries. It was one of the few things that the ICW universally agreed on. Finding it within a stolen artifact was bad news.

"Dawlish and I were charged with investigating who was trading in unicorn blood and what it had to do with our jurisdiction," Tonks continued, pointing back at the picture of the idol. "This was supposed to be in the UK, but was found in France. So either this was just a coincidence and was a French problem, or we had someone running a ring through our country."

She smirked at Harry and he shook his head. Tonks did like to be dramatic.

"As you can see from the board, this became its own cage of pixies." She gestured towards Sirius. "Smart Guy over there had a hunch that this was bigger than we thought, so we decided not to involve the French Ministry or the Minister's department here to prevent leaks."

"You're welcome," Sirius said with a wink.

"I can give you a full rundown if you want, but the short version is that a small group of witches and wizards appear to have started a cult," revealed Tonks. "Their operation spans multiple countries but they're based here. We think they may be using the smuggling to hide the unicorn blood and using it for rituals."

Something nagged in the back of Harry's mind. He turned towards James with a raised eyebrow.

"Does this involve Burke somehow?"

James smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, we think he's been running artifacts here for this group," he confirmed. "In fact, we think he's been the main runner for stolen goods for the operation everywhere."

"How did you figure this out?" Neville asked.

Tonks smiled.

"I followed him for almost three weeks and was just about to give up when he met with Gregory Goyle Sr," she said, laughing as she sat down. "Goyle doesn't have a subtle bone in his body and doesn't know how to keep his voice down. I overheard him talking about a shipment they had waiting to be cleared of potential nasty surprises. Seems they stole some stuff from a paranoid type."

She thumbed towards the board.

"There's some pictures up there. I followed Goyle back to his place and did some sleuthing. He is really not bright and had left some pretty detailed information out in the open. We were able to seize the items about a month ago."

Frank raised an eyebrow.

"So, why haven't we arrested the lot?"

James sighed.

"They've been careful, incredibly careful. Outside of Burke and Goyle we didn't know who all were in the group except for the ones that the French Ministry picked up in their initial raid, and they were all lackeys," James said. "It wasn't until Dawlish started leaning on some of his contacts that we got another name."

"Nott," Dawlish spat in disgust, tightening his hand into a fist with anger.

From what Harry understood, Nott had been a thorn in Dawlish's side since the older man had started in the department, including being responsible for him getting badly injured at one point. Nott got off with a small fine and a slap on the wrist, owing to his pureblood status, and Dawlish had taken it personally.

"So, we've got Burke running a smuggling ring, which isn't surprising. We know he's been doing that for years, we just haven't been able to pin anything on him legally. Nott and Goyle running some cult-" Harry started but was cut off by Dawlish.

"They're not running it," Dawlish said with a shake of his head. "They report to someone else but my contact doesn't know who."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Who is your contact?" he asked.

Dawlish looked at James for approval. The Head Auror stood up and placed both hands on the table.

"We've been approved for a raid," he explained, "before I have Dawlish reveal his source I need to know if anyone wants off this boat. If you don't want to participate you can go back to your desk and there will be other work assigned to you over the next few days that keeps you away from this. Know that nothing will be held against you and I won't be upset if you don't want to be part of this."

Nobody moved.

James nodded and sat back down, indicating for Dawlish to continue.

"The younger Nott kid," he finished with a rare smile.

Theo? That little shitty Slytherin he'd gone to school with?

"You're telling me your inside source is the man's son?" Harry asked in disbelief. "What makes you think you can trust him? From what I remember, he was a little arsehole in school."

"Because," Draco interrupted, speaking up for the first time. "There is nobody on the planet Theo hates more than his father."

Neville raised an eyebrow.

"Not to derail the conversation," he added, looking at the younger Malfoy, "but why are you here Draco?"

Malfoy shrugged.

"The Minister approved this raid but wanted someone outside of your department in on it. I was thrown to the wolves, though my legal expertise ended up working out. Plus, my father is probably involved and nobody hates my father more than I do."

"Lot of daddy issues in Slytherin, eh?" Sirius joked.

Tonks chuckled and looked over at Draco.

"Don't worry cousin, we don't bite."

Harry turned back towards Dawlish.

"Alright, so Theo hates his dad and is giving him up to us because…why? What's the motive here?"

"Politics," Sirius offered with a smile, "Purebloods love their politics, and it's the whole reason we needed to get approval from the Minister for this raid. Nott holds a Wizengamot seat and a fair bit of influence. A sizable amount of influence, actually, if you combine his ties to Malfoy. If we're going to arrest him for illegal activities we have to be certain of this, otherwise the political shitstorm that will follow will be astronomical. Draco is making sure all of our arrests are air tight and by the book."

"The kid stands to gain by seeing his father fall," Frank pondered out loud. "And he's willing to risk his father's wrath to make it happen."

"Theo assures us that there are several illegal items on the property," Tonks said, "and he told us they're holding a meeting to discuss business soon."

"How soon?" asked Seamus.

"Tomorrow night," James said. "So, there's not a lot of time here."

He flicked his wand and a representation of the Nott manor appeared floating above the large table they sat around.

"Dawlish, Tonks, Frank and Harry will approach from the rear entrance here," he jabbed his wand and a single door at the rear of the property lit up in blue. "Sirius, Seamus, and I will approach from the main entrance." Another flick of his wand and the large front door lit up in blue as well. "Proudfoot, you'll stick around the perimeter to alert us of any reinforcements they might have."

"We'll breach at the same time, though I guess this will be less of a breach and more of just opening the doors," he said with a smirk, waving his wand to dispel the floating manor.

"I assume we have a way to get past the wards undetected?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. "Those are blood wards around the Nott manor. The head of house will know when visitors cross the threshold."

"That's where Theo comes in," Tonks said with a smile. "He's going to let us in. Apparently his father adjusts the wards whenever they have these little meetings and he knows how to invite people onto the property without triggering the wards."

"And the doors will just be unlocked?" Neville asked.

"Theo will handle that too," Tonks replied with a nod of her head.

"Awful lot of this plan requires trusting an informant," Frank mused. "Experience says that's a big roll of the gobstone."

A tense silence was his only answer. They all knew he was right, but there wasn't enough time to do anything else.

"Do we have an internal layout?" Harry questioned, attempting to move past the unfortunate truth.

Tonks nodded her head and looked over at Dawlish. The gruff man reached into his robes and pulled out a nonstandard sized piece of rolled parchment, tossing it to Tonks. She unrolled it on the table and used several tea cups to hold each end down. The team got up to crowd around the page. Tonks stepped aside so that James could get a better look before he pointed down at the map.

"Front entrance is pretty easy," he said, pointing at the landing area and running his finger down a hallway directly in front of the door. "This hall dumps you into the main seating area pretty quickly, so that team has a pretty direct entry."

"Nott says the hallway upstairs overlooks that room," Dawlish chimed in.

James nodded.

"I'll head up the stairs then," he confirmed before moving his eyes to the back entrance. "Looks like that entrance is for the kitchen. Or a wine room."

Harry studied the map, noting two exits from the back room. He leaned down and pointed them out.

"Exits from the room on the left and right," he said. "Both of them are pretty quick to bring you to the seating area, though the exit on the left looks like it runs into a bar. Right side will have less cover. Split the team to approach from both directions."

"Agreed," James said as they all studied the map for a bit longer, attempting to memorize the layout, though Harry would prefer to take it back to his desk to study it in detail.

"Not to be rude," Alice interrupted as they all sat back down, Tonks rolling up the map and handing it to James, "but I noticed a distinct lack of Neville and I in this plan."

"Right," James confirmed, looking between the two. "You two will be running things from here because we're testing some new magic from our Unspeakable friends."

"James…" Alice started with a frown but he shook his head.

"Alice, not now. You said you were done with field work outside of emergencies years ago so we're sticking with this." He smiled at Neville. "Hannah might murder me if I let you go out without a better reason."

"That's fair," Neville said with a good natured laugh.

"Just before we leave," James continued, "we'll all take a small potion prepared by Croaker. It'll allow limited tracking of our status from here."

"Explain," Harry said with narrowed eyes.

He didn't like the idea of being tracked. The mirrors were bad enough, but this sounded like the mirrors turned up to an extreme level.

"Relax, son, it's nothing like the mirror." James smirked as if he knew exactly what Harry was thinking.

"It just tracks our heartbeats. I don't have the details on what all will be happening, I've just been told that a board will be delivered this evening that will make things clear. Apparently, blinking green is good, blinking yellow is a spike above normal, and blinking red is bad. Whatever that means."

"That's truly encouraging," Harry said sarcastically.

"Creepy Unspeakables," Sirius muttered.

James looked at Proudfoot.

"You'll be given a new version of the earpieces, also courtesy of Croaker's bunch. It'll allow you to communicate with Alice and Neville here. If they see anything odd they'll report it to you and you can sound off with us."

He turned towards Draco.

"Anything else we should know?"

Draco tensed as a stern expression formed on his face.

"Nott's father is a terrible man, so don't let your guard down. Whenever you take them down, whoever it is, you need to bring them directly to the holding area here. We do not want this leaking before we're ready. Especially before we recover anything. So don't bind them and then ransack the place. Bind them and bring them here immediately. We have time to look through the manor, the Minister has signed off on that personally."

James nodded and looked around the room.

"We're expecting less than six to be there, but plan for more. We've executed bigger raids before, some with less of us. Just remember to work together and we'll be fine. Let's try to get any paperwork done that we can today for outstanding cases." He tossed the map to Harry with a smirk. "Figured you'd want to learn every centimeter of it. Dismissed."

.

.

Fleur stepped out of the lift and froze. It was well into the evening hours, yet the department was buzzing with activity. Most of the Auror desks were occupied, all of them writing or looking over documents. A woman with bright pink hair stood up and walked to another desk, showing an older man something before lightly punching him in the shoulder.

She looked around and saw Harry standing over his desk, a look of deep concentration on his face. She smiled and began to cross the room just as the pink haired woman turned to head back to her desk. They locked eyes, and the woman gave her a stern look before breaking out into a wide smile.

"Harry," the woman called, though he didn't look up, "You've got a very pretty visitor."

As Fleur closed the distance to his desk Harry looked up and smiled. She looked down at the desk as he moved a stack of papers over the parchment he had been studying. It appeared to be a map of some sort, but she couldn't get a good look at it. She mentally dismissed the thought. She wasn't here to snoop on his work and she didn't want him to think that she was.

The pink haired woman approached, a wide smile still on her face as she stuck out her hand.

"The name's Tonks. You must be Fleur," she said.

Fleur nodded and shook the woman's hand.

"That's me, though I didn't realize Harry spoke about me while at work." She smirked up at Harry as he rolled his eyes. "He talks about you all quite often though."

"Does he now?" Tonks drawled in a teasing tone, turning towards Harry. "All good things, I hope?"

"I guess you'll never know, Nymphadora," he replied.

Tonks glared at him.

"That's a low blow, Potter," she said before walking back towards her desk.

Harry moved out from behind his desk and leaned down, kissing her lightly on the cheek. A catcall sounded from across the room. Harry growled.

"Mind your own business, Sirius. Just because you don't have anyone in your life doesn't mean the rest of us aren't more gifted."

"Your words hurt me in a way that I shall never recover from, godson," the dark haired man said, clutching at his heart dramatically.

Fleur covered her mouth as she giggled. Harry smiled at her before looking over at the clock on the wall, scratching the back of his head as he noticed the time.

"I was supposed to cook dinner tonight," he remembered out loud, "I'm so sorry. We've got…a lot going on and not long to get it done, so I kind of lost track of time."

She shook her head.

"No need to apologize," she said, placing a calming hand on his forearm, noticing that he visibly relaxed at the contact. "I figured it was something important when I went by your flat and you weren't there, though I got back late anyway. I've been having trouble with a new artifact."

"Already keyed into each other's wards, are we?" Tonks called.

Harry rolled his eyes before raising an eyebrow at Fleur.

"Anything I can do?"

She shook her head.

"Not unless you know how to untangle complex runes from curses," she said with a frown.

"No, can't help you there," he confirmed before he brightened. "You should owl my mum again though. She's brilliant with runes. I think you two would get along great regardless. Even though she's got a charms mastery she's also a runes nerd."

"I might have to do that," Fleur replied with a smile. "I'm pretty stuck as it is so any help would be great."

She looked around the room.

"Is the whole team here?" she asked.

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, most of the senior group. The newbies have gone home for the night, but we've got something going on." He looked a bit guilty. "I can't really talk about it."

Idly, she wondered what they were planning, likely a raid if she had to guess. She'd seen the French Ministry during raid preparations and it had looked quite similar, desk filled as they all tried to finish up any paperwork that had been put off so that they could concentrate on the task at hand. The curious part of her yearned to know what they were doing, but she reminded herself once again that she wasn't there to snoop.

"It's terribly rude not to introduce us to your girlfriend," Sirius called from across the room without looking up.

Fleur smiled at Harry's apprehensive look. They'd been dating for a while now, yet she'd not met any of his co-workers in person before. Not that she could say much, Harry hadn't met any of her coworkers either, though that was more a product of how the bank worked as opposed to effort.

Harry nodded towards the man sitting at the desk pushed against his.

"This is Neville Longbottom, my partner."

Neville stood and shook her hands, giving her a kind smile.

"Nice to meet you," he said, "Harry's told me a lot about you."

Fleur's stomach fluttered at his words, touched by the idea that Harry spoke of her when she wasn't around. It had been a while since she'd had anyone outside of her family become an important part of her life. She'd almost forgotten how good it felt.

Harry looked at her.

"Neville will be leaving us at some point to pursue his true passion: weird plants."

She raised her eyebrow.

"Herbology mastery?" she asked.

Neville nodded.

"Yes, followed by taking a post at Hogwarts."

"Congratulations," she said with a nod.

Harry gestured to the desk to their right that had a couple sitting at it.

"Frank and Alice Longbottom," Harry said.

"Hello," they said in unison.

Harry turned to the left and pointed at Tonks.

"You've already had the misfortune of meeting Tonks." He stuck his tongue out at the woman who was now sporting green hair.

A metamorphmagus. Fleur made a note of that as Harry pointed to the back of the room.

"The tall, grumpy looking ones are Dawlish and Proudfoot. The black haired one with the shit-eating grin on his face is Sirius Black." He turned towards her with a solemn look. "Don't talk to him, he'll try to tell you something embarrassing about my childhood."

She laughed as Sirius huffed.

"Seamus and my dad are out at the moment."

Harry's stomach growled loudly, causing him to blush lightly.

"Hungry?" she asked teasingly.

He nodded. "Yeah. They got food while I was out chasing something else down earlier."

"Would you like me to bring you something?" Fleur asked, untroubled by the fact that they wouldn't be spending much time together today. Clearly something big was going on and she knew he wouldn't be able to get away.

It was surprisingly easy to think of her time with Harry in a long term sense, something she hadn't done since Gabby's death. Relationships had largely been for convenience since that day, started and dropped when the person could no longer provide her help towards her goals.

Harry was different.

They could have dinner another night. They could spend time together another day, and she didn't have any issues with that. There were no time constraints on their relationship, no looming deadlines or ticking clocks. It was a refreshing change of pace from the rest of her life.

"Would you mind?" he asked sincerely. "Maybe that sandwich place in the Alley? Something simple would be wonderful."

She nodded and leaned up, kissing him on the cheek before turning to leave.

"It's rude to stare as she leaves, Harry," she heard Frank say with amusement.

"Shut up you old geezer," Harry shot back, causing Fleur to laugh as she made it to the lift.

She quickly found herself in line at the small shop, waiting to place Harry's order. It was surprisingly busy, though they had only been in the establishment for lunch, never for dinner. As she looked around she felt someone slide into line behind her.

"What's got you back out here?" Luc said quietly.

She sighed but didn't turn around. She'd forgotten he lived in the area, so he'd probably been at the Leaky Cauldron when she'd passed through.

"Grabbing dinner for Harry," she replied.

"Should you be relaxing the day before we're set to make our next move?" he asked.

She almost turned around but resisted the urge as irritation sparked in her.

"I have to put down roots, Luc. For appearance sake, if nothing else. Though I intend to stay here after this is done, so for me this is not just a show."

"What's he working on?" Luc questioned as the line moved up a bit.

"What?"

"Your boyfriend," he clarified, "anything we can use?"

She huffed.

"No, it seems like they're planning a raid, though that's not why I visited him."

"So you've said, but is that really the whole truth?" She half turned and caught him giving her a raised eyebrow. "Perhaps you're subconsciously looking to see if you can glimpse something in their department that will help?"

"Enough," she whispered firmly, "I'll be ready tomorrow. That's all that matters."

As she got to the counter and placed her order, Luc's words weighed on her, sending doubt into her stomach. Was she unintentionally using Harry to help herself? Taking his kindness, his generosity, and twisting it for her own gain? She'd done so with Burke, and had been quick to look at his desk at the Ministry, so did Luc's words have merit?

As she grabbed the order and left the shop, not giving Luc a second glance, she shook her head. No, she wouldn't do that to Harry, at least not in the way Luc was insinuating. He wasn't part of this, and she would keep it that way as much as possible.

She couldn't stop the small part of her mind from questioning if that was a lie she was telling herself.

.

.

With a faint pop Harry appeared at the tree line just outside of the Nott family property. He quickly scanned the area and spotted the rest of the group a short distance away. They were all dressed in their dark Auror robes, though they, like him, had donned their traditional field robes. Far less flowing and more maneuverability to allow them to participate in battle without worrying if they're going to catch their outfit on something.

"How am I always the last to arrive?" he asked as he caught up with the group. Sirius clapped him on the back.

"Because you need to look dashing, kid."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"You're the one who's always worried about your hair, asking uncle Moony if it looks alright," he pointed out.

"Cut the chatter," James said with a commanding voice. Harry immediately dropped his smile and looked up at his dad, unable to not notice the lines of worry around the man's eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

James tried to brush off the question but Harry gave him a look, one they both knew well. They'd shared it many times over the years, when one of them knew the other wasn't being fully up front. His father was worried about something and he wasn't going to let him try to ease his concern as if it were nothing. He wasn't a child anymore, so that wouldn't work on him.

"I have a feeling in my gut, but it might just be me getting old," James said with a sigh.

Harry grabbed his dad's shoulder and squeezed it, nodding at him.

"We've got this."

A noise to the left caused them all to draw their wands in an instant. Theodore Nott stood there with his hands held up.

"Easy, it's just me," he said nervously, looking to Dawlish for support. The gruff Auror lowered his wand and grumbled before striding over towards the young pureblood.

"Good way to get your arse blown off, kid," he growled. "Are we all set?"

Theo nodded.

"Yes, my father and his associates are all inside."

"Do you know who they are?" James asked.

Theo gave an uncertain look.

"Crabb and Goyle were the first to show up, followed quickly by Edgar Parkinson. Sue Li arrived about a half hour ago alongside Corban Yaxley. There's also an unknown male, but he doesn't speak and I can't place him. He's tall with brown hair. At least I believe his hair is brown. He hasn't lowered his hood."

"Lucious Malfoy wasn't among them?" asked Sirius.

Theo shook his head.

"He didn't show up while I was there, though I had to sneak out to meet you, so he could have arrived after I left." He looked at Dawlish. "Is that all?"

Dawlish shrugged and looked at the group.

"Anything else we should look out for?" Harry chimed in.

Theo turned to Harry with a look that shouted "Pureblooded arsehole" from the top of the Hogwarts astronomy tower.

"I think you'll have to make due with what I've given you, Potter," he said before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He reopened his eyes as the tension left his face. He turned back towards James. "The artifacts will be in the basement and the paperwork will be upstairs in the study. You'll need either my mother or I to get into the basement. She won't help you, but I will."

He took a few steps back towards the house before turning on his heels and giving a mock bow.

"I greet you, Auror's of the British Ministry and bid you welcome to the ancestral land of the House of Nott. I invite you into our home and hope that your stay is both comforting and exceeds your expectations. Do let us know if there is anything we can do to make your time within our walls more enjoyable."

With that he stepped back towards the group and looked up at Dawlish.

"Where do you want me to wait for word?"

"Leaky Cauldron," Dawlish grunted. "Password is…"

"Temporary alliance," Harry provided.

With a curt nod of his head Nott popped away, leaving the Aurors to their devices. James gave them all a serious look.

"Does any of this change anything?" he asked, looking around at the group.

Harry scratched the back of his neck.

"It's curious that Sue is here," he said, more to himself than anything. "She was my regular partner for charms our sixth and seventh years. Never got the sense she would be caught up in something like this."

"Perhaps it's her family?" Frank mused with a shrug. "If I remember correctly, her family has a sizable business in Asia. Perhaps they're being used for entry into those black markets? A lot more unicorn blood trading there."

James instructed Proudfoot to contact Alice and Neville.

"Alice, Neville. Are you there?" the tall man asked.

"Hear you loud and clear PF," Alice responded.

"Crabb, Goyle, Parkinson, Li, Yaxley, Nott, and an unknown male. Send a note to Draco."

"Got a description of that unknown male?" Neville asked.

"Not yet," Proudfoot said. "Just tall with brown hair. We'll know more once the team is inside. We'll be breaching the house soon. How are the potions looking?"

The board had, just as James said, been delivered the previous night to the meeting room. It was an unassuming thing, but it was brimming with magical energy in a way Harry hadn't ever felt before. He didn't know if it had been constructed using magic or if they had stuffed the magical energy into an existing board, but it bled from it in pulsing waves, like a heartbeat. Eerie, given its function. On the board were simple numbers one through eight spaced evenly on it. After they drank the potions, each bottle with a matching number, the numbers on the board had begun to pulse green.

"Everyone is showing green," Alice confirmed.

"Good," James replied after Proudfoot relayed the message, though Harry could tell he was still worried. "Tell them to keep us informed of any changes."

James looked at Harry.

"How do you want to handle the breach?"

"Not going to be much cover in there, but we knew that already," Harry said as he scratched his chin.

He ran a hand through his hair as he replayed the information Theo had given them. It was all rather clear cut, a typical raid that they'd done a dozen times, but something was tugging at the back of his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. Something important.

"He's got that look on his face," Tonks said, looking over at James. "Something is bothering him."

Harry looked back up at James.

"Swap with me," he said before turning to Seamus, "you swap earpieces with Proudfoot and take his place."

Seamus frowned.

"What? Why?"

James held up a hand, cutting off the protest.

"Let him finish," he commanded before turning back to Harry. "What's the thinking here?"

Harry shrugged.

"Remember that raid on the potions lab in Cornwall?" Harry asked.

James nodded.

"Same feeling," Harry continued.

"The kids got good instincts," Sirius reminded the group. "His last minute changes in that raid saved Proudfoot and Dawlish from long stints in St. Mungos. Or worse, trips to the cemetery."

"That, and his dueling has always had some bite to it. I've got the scars to prove it," Tonks chimed in with a smirk. "Doubly so when he's angry."

"Give me the rundown," James said to Harry.

Again Harry shrugged. He looked over at Frank.

"I don't mean any offense," he said sincerely.

Frank smiled that gentle smile of his.

"No offense will be taken, kid. Just let us hear it."

Harry took a deep breath and nodded.

"Seamus is our least skilled duelist," Harry started.

"Excuse me?" Seamus exclaimed.

"Agreed," James said, sending a steely look towards Seamus, effectively shutting him up.

"Frank has been out of the field for a long time and, outside of Alice, works best with you or Sirius. So, I need you with Frank and Sirius with Proudfoot, since those two have worked together several times."

James nodded and looked between Proudfoot and Seamus.

"Make the swap," he said quickly.

James nodded again as Seamus inserted the earpiece in and did a check with Neville and Alice, informing them of the changes being made.

"How are we getting through the wards?" Seamus asked. Tonks clapped him on the back.

"Theo did that for us before he left." Seamus looked confused. "That fancy greeting was a pureblood way of magically inviting people into their home. The wards won't trigger when we pass them now."

James nodded.

"Let's move."

They approached the house quickly under the cover of darkness, the crescent moon not providing much light to illuminate the grounds, which Harry was thankful for. He, Proudfood, and Sirius made it to the front door and squatted down, waiting for the word from James. Sirius tapped his shoulder.

"How do you want to play this?" his godfather asked.

"You two take the hallway, I'll creep up the stairs. If the plans are correct, there should be a hallway overlooking the dining area. I'll have a good vantage point to cover you if needed."

Sirius nodded. "Good thinking."

"Everyone ready?" James' voice came through their earpieces. "We're ready back here."

"Ready up front," Harry replied.

"Sirius, you do the talking, see if they'll simply give us what we want," James replied.

"Unlikely, but okay," Sirius said.

"Execute," James commanded.

Harry opened the door quietly and let the other two in before closing it behind him. They entered the hallway and, with a single nod to Sirius, he made his way up the right staircase. When he reached the top it broke off into three directions. He kept moving forward and, as expected, the wall to the right dropped away, revealing the dining area below. He crouched low as he saw movement from the far hallway, signaling the other team was getting into position. Scanning the room, he saw the bar set into the far wall, which would give James and Frank some added room for cover.

"Gentlemen," Sirius said in a booming voice, stopping the chatter below. Instantly the temperature seemed to drop as everyone rose. He inclined his head towards Sue. "And lady."

Harry scanned them all, but his eyes got fixated on the unknown male who hadn't been sitting down. He was facing the fire along the wall, features still partially obscured by his hood. He was facing away from the front entrance so he didn't expect anyone on their team had seen him.

"Anyone get a good look at the guy by the fire?" he whispered.

"Negative," James and Tonks said.

"What is the meaning of this?" Nott said furiously. "How did you get into my house, Black? Get the fuck out now!"

"Temper, temper Mr. Nott," Sirius said. Harry didn't have a look at him but he was sure Sirius was still partially in the hallway. Harry noted the long, decorative table on the right wall. Would be good for cover. "The Minister is concerned about certain elements of the community and we've been sent to investigate."

Nott scowled.

"Theo, that damn boy."

He looked back at Sirius with fire in his eyes. Quickly he drew his wand. The remaining occupants did the same, though the man by the fire didn't move.

"I wouldn't do that, Nott," James said from the far side of the room, wand peeking out from behind cover. "This doesn't have to get messy. Everyone put your wands down and step into the center of the room."

Nobody moved, though Harry was still fixed on the man by the fire. There was something almost familiar about him, like he'd seen him before, but he couldn't place it. He needed to get a better look.

"Tonks," he whispered, "how good are you with precision cutting curses?"

"Pretty good," she whispered back, "Why?"

"Come on Nott, think this through," Sirius said, drawing out his conversation to allow them time to work, "we're all adults here."

"Cut the hood on the man by the fire. I need to see him," whispered Harry.

"Got it," Tonks confirmed.

The magic of the room shifted as the hood split and fell. Time seemed to stand still as the man's face was revealed, though Harry could only get a partial look, he recognized the profile.

"Augustus Rookwood?" he said out loud.

The man looked up at him and hate burned in his features before he turned back to his companions.

"Kill them all!"

Chaos descended upon the room.

Nott went down quickly, Sirius bound him before summoning his body as a rain of spells pushed him back into the hallway. Proudfoot summoned the large table on the right wall into the entrance to the dining area for he and Sirius to take cover behind.

Parkinson sent a series of nasty hexes towards the hallway that James and Frank were in, effectively pinning them down. Li and Yaxley did the same to Dawlish and Tonks, though Harry noticed a significant amount of green in their spell fire.

He rained down blasting spells from the second floor, catching Crabb and Goyle by surprise, sending them both crashing into the wall. Rookwood sent several blasting spells of his own in Harry's direction, obliterating the railing, giving the two full view of each other. Harry let his training take over as they dueled in earnest.

Attack, shield, attack, sidestep, repeat.

Harry sidestepped a dark purple beam, hearing the sizzle behind him as the wall was eaten away by acid. He fired a stunner, followed by a binding spell. Rookwood blocked the first and summoned a piece of stone in front of the second, launching a killing curse back. Harry dove to the ground, narrowly avoiding the green light as he heard a cry from below.

"Frank's hit," James said.

"Protego Maxima," Harry whispered, a golden shield appearing in front of him, just in time to block a bone crushing hex.

"Get him back to the kitchen!" Harry yelled before lowering his voice. "Sirius, provide cover. Tonks, Dawlish, give Li and Yaxley something to do!"

Sirius sent a mist of fog to the other side of the room, covering the room for a brief moment before Parkinson dispelled it.

"Got him out!" James said as he got back into position. "Li and Yaxley fight well together."

Harry's shield broke and he dove again to avoid another killing curse. He continued to roll to the right, sending a tripping hex that hit Rookwood, giving a brief moment of respite. Quickly, he followed it up with a binding spell, magical vines bursting from the floor to trap the man's legs. Harry made a zigzag motion with his wand before stabbing it towards the fireplace. Two whips of fire encircled Rookwood's upper body. The fire didn't burn, but it held his arms in place, giving Harry time to work.

He looked down and could see another table in the room. With a flick of his wand he overturned it and moved it towards the hallway at the back of the room.

"Tonks, Dawlish, when I distract Parkinson you get into the room and give him hell."

"Got it," they said in unison.

"Proudfoot, can you give me a hand with Li and Yaxley?" James asked.

"Yes sir."

Harry sent a series of stunners and disarming spells at Parkinson, who he had to admit was a fantastic duelist. The older man reacted instantly, shielding and moving to avoid them all, sending back a barrage of dark black beams, but providing just enough time for the rest of the team to act. Tonks and Dawlish pushed into the room, causing Parkinson to refocus on them, opening up a full duel with the man while James and Proudfoot did the same to their own targets. The room had become a series of lights and feats of strength.

It was then that he saw it.

A flash of movement to his left and he caught the hood moving into the study at the other side of the hallway.

She was here.

Why was she here?

An explosion of stone near him rocked him back into the present. Rookwood had recovered.

"Fuck!" Harry yelled. "Sirius, can you keep Rookwood busy?"

"Sure?" Sirius said, though it was a questioning response, he jumped into the fray nonetheless.

Harry took the opportunity to sprint down the hall and around to the other side, blasting the door to the study from its hinges. She was inside, rifling through the large desk at the other side of the room. She looked up at him and though her face was covered in shadow, he heard her gasp.

"Shouldn't you be fighting?" she asked teasingly.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

She shrugged.

"I was in the neighborhood and thought I would drop by," she said as she twirled her wand, pointing it to the ground as magic flowed from it.

He knew what she was doing, or more accurately, what she was attempting to do. He smirked. Not this time. This time he was ready.

"I don't think so, darling."

He stepped back and waved his wand, muttered the counter and placed the tip of his wand on the ground. The yellow light extended from his wand until it hit the edge of the ward. The entire thing glowed bright orange before shattering.

He stepped into the room, noting that it was rather large for a study as the Shadow tilted her head.

"Clever, clever," she said and he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Why are you here?" He repeated.

"Perhaps I'm not the big bad you think I am?" she teased.

Without warning she sent a spell at him, hitting him in the chest. Instantly his chest burned, spreading up to his left shoulder before he ripped off his outer robe and countered the burning spell, extinguishing the flames on his skin. The heat remained in his shoulder. That would hurt badly until he could get it looked at.

He raised an eyebrow.

"You say that and then burn me? Not off to a good start." He smiled. "And here I thought there was a connection."

"Oh, I'd love to connect with you, lover."

Something jumped in his stomach and his heart beat faster as his eyes sparkled with mirth.

"Let's dance," he said, shooting a stunner at her.

She side-stepped it easily before a decanter rose from the desk. It was shaped like a wolf and filled with whiskey, but it soon morphed and changed, growing until it was the size and shape of an actual wolf. She made a small motion with her wand and the wolf opened its mouth, fire coming from the wide opening.

He dodged, left and then right, before hitting the wolf with a gust of wind, slamming it against the wall where it shattered. Before he could recover, he felt the magic in the air shift again and he summoned a hasty shield. Several pieces of wood slammed harmlessly into the bright light.

Looking over, he saw that the chairs had come to life, both tossing sharp pieces of wood at him. He smiled, an impressive bit of charms work. He danced, blasting one of the chairs to pieces, breaking the charm on it. He stole a glance over at the Shadow, sending a series of hexes at her as he did.

"I think you need a lesson on how to treat a lady," she said.

"Promise to teach me?" he asked as he hit the second chair, shattering it into pieces.

"Come on," he said, "show me what you got."

They launched spells at each other in rapid succession, fast and furious, though Harry's shoulder was still burning. Despite the pain, despite the uncertainty of what was going on downstairs, he couldn't keep the smile off his face and he could tell from her laughs that she was having just as much fun. She shot a rope teeming with electricity at him, but he saw through the feint and rolled under it, binding her with his own rope just as she was preparing the real attack. He stood in front of her.

"A wonderful display of a feint," he commented, casually swatting aside the spike of ice that had shot at his back. She must have set that up before they started their duel. "Your magic is fantastic."

"I love a man who knows what he's doing with his wand," she shot back and he swore that he could hear the wink she must have sent him.

"Honey, this is just a warmup. Let me know when you really want to play."

He could end it now, he was sure of it. She was his match in hand-to-hand combat, and she was skilled with a wand, but he knew he was better in a straight duel. He could see it in the way she moved, how she fired spells, it was all there. She was providing some challenge, at least.

He shouldn't be flirting. He shouldn't be bantering. He shouldn't be having fun. He shouldn't be attracted to her.

But he was, and he couldn't understand why. All he knew was that there was something there, something familiar about her, and he knew she felt it too.

Suddenly, her outfit glowed gold and the ropes binding her tore, dropping to the ground. She sent a gust of wind at him, blasting him back, though he recovered before redirecting the wind up and away.

A ball of fire raced towards him and he swatted it away.

"No!" she cried, looking behind her.

He briefly looked away and saw that the papers on the desk had been lit on fire by the ball. She turned back towards him. She was shaking, though with rage or something else, he couldn't tell.

"You think you know what's going on. You think I'm a bad person, but I'm not. I'm here for the same reason as you. I'm here to right a wrong."

A stream of fire shot from her wand and he blocked it, though she kept pouring more magic into the fire, strengthening the heat. He needed to end things and fast, otherwise they'd burn the house down.

"This isn't working," he said before rolling under the fire.

Quickly he cast a series of spells, she blocked or dodged the first round, but he kept going, faster and faster, until his arm was simply a blur of motion and light emerging from his wand. No more games, no more smiles. He heard the voice of Mad Eye Moody in his head, taunting him as he knocked Harry on his arse for the hundredth time, fueling his barrage. She faltered, and her grunt as she was thrown back against the wall signaled the end of the duel.

She knelt to catch her breath.

Quiet reigned in the room, though idly he noted that he could still hear fighting from downstairs.

She looked at the desk, still ablaze, before looking back at him.

"You've ruined it. This was all I had to go on," she said.

"Explain it to me then."

She shook her head before tapping her wand against the ground. His feet stuck to the ground and he couldn't pull them away. A trap, he realized too late. Before he could move to counter it there were four of the Shadow standing in front of him. He fired at one but his spell just passed through it. She flicked her wrist towards the ground and smoke filled the room.

He banished the smoke but found himself alone, though he noticed the fire was now out. With a sigh he tapped his wand against his feet, unsticking them from the floor. He fell onto his backside, exhausted at the events of the entire night.

"Harry, are you there?" His dad's voice chirped in his ear.

"Yeah, I'm here," he said as he dropped his head. "What's the team's status?"

"Frank and Tonks took hits, so I've sent them to St. Mungo's," James said. "Rookwood is dead. He refused to be taken alive. Sirius and Seamus are taking the rest to the Ministry."

"Going to need to remove the body," Harry said. "Croaker is going to have a fit when he finds out his department had a potential leak."

"Already on it," James confirmed. "Where are you?"

"Upstairs," replied Harry.

"Why did you leave the team?"

He didn't mean to, but Harry could hear the undertone of accusation in his father's words. He couldn't blame him, not really. Harry had run from the battle. Abandoned the team without explanation right when they needed him. Any leader would question such an act.

"The Shadow was here," he said.

"What?" James exclaimed. "Seriously? Why?"

Harry sighed and stood up, going over to the burned desk, most of the papers either a total loss or in some form of burnt.

"No idea, but she said it wasn't what it looked like. Said we're on the same side."

"Harry," his father said, the former accusation being replaced with concern. "Are you alright?"

His shoulder still burned, and the question reignited the pain.

"My chest and shoulder are burned, but I'll be fine."

He looked down at the desk and grabbed a half burnt sheet of parchment, a partial message on it catching his eye.

Lord Riddle is getting impatient and, we believe, suspicious of Rabastan and Regulus. We'll decide on surveillance at the-

The remainder of the note was burnt, but Harry raised an eyebrow. That sounded like a lead. He slipped the piece of parchment into his pocket and turned to leave the study. Time to help the team sort through the mess downstairs. It would do him some good, if nothing else, and help him ignore the pain of the burns. As he left the room, the Shadow's words echoed in his mind. Despite the distortion in her voice, he felt that he could hear the anguish in her words.

"You've ruined it. This was all I had to go on."

Chapter Text

Fleur popped into her flat and immediately tore off the hood and jumper, violently throwing them against the nearest wall as she yelled her frustration. Her hands were shaking badly and her magic was going out of control, but she didn't care. Quickly she moved to the kitchen, grabbing the nearest bottle of wine and opening it. She took a long drag from the bottle, though it did less than she'd hoped to calm her nerves.

The fireplace roared green and Luc stepped through, his face shifting to concern as he looked between her and the bottle in her hand.

"Fleur, are you okay?" he asked, moving towards her, though he stopped when she shot him a dirty look.

"Do I look like I'm okay, Luc?" she spat.

"Fleur, you're bleeding from your head."

His voice was low, soft, and full of concern.

She reached up and ran her hand over her forehead, feeling a small amount of blood catching on her hand as she pulled it away. It must have happened during the fight and was likely the source of her pounding headache. She caught sight of her reflection in a mirror and stopped. Her hair was a mess, there was a line of dried blood running down the side of her face, and her eyes had bags under them.

She took another long pull of the bottle before it was ripped from her hands. A withering glare was all he received as he held the bottle away from her.

"Fleur, what happened?" Luc asked. She could still hear the concern in his voice as she plopped down into a chair. "I've gotten word that something happened at the Nott manor tonight but nobody has been able to tell me what."

"I got caught," she said, though she didn't look up at him.

She may have set their investigation back months, and she couldn't look him in the eyes knowing that it had been her fault. She'd arrived at the property and breached the wards without an issue, but the battle that broke out while she was attempting to enter the building had been unexpected. Fortuitous, but unexpected. She'd bet on using the chaos to her advantage, allowing her to slip in and out without being seen, but Harry had to have spotted her.

She shouldn't have engaged him. She shouldn't have taunted him. She shouldn't have flirted with him.

Most of all, however, she shouldn't have felt as much excitement and pure fun as she had dueling him.

"The Aurors attacked just as I was getting into the building," she explained. "I tried to use it to get in unseen, but Harry spotted me. I didn't think anyone would be upstairs."

"Did he see your face?"

She shook her head.

"No, nothing like that." She felt Luc relax as he took out his wand and began to run it along the lines of her face. Her skin tingled as the dried blood evaporated and the cut began to close. "We fought and I…got carried away. I started a fire."

"Were you burned?" Luc asked as he finished healing and cleaning her wound. Already her headache was beginning to subside.

She shook her head.

"No, but all the documents in the office were burned. We got nothing Luc, and it was all my fault."

She felt terrible and waited for him to blow up, to yell at her. She was prepared for it because it was what she deserved. Instead, however, she felt him place a calming hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him. His face still held concern and his mouth had parted into a small smile.

"It's alright, Fleur, really," he reassured her. She tried to shake her head but he held up his other hand, stopping her. "We'll get more information another way. The important thing is that you're safe."

She bolted up, nearly knocking him over as she began to pace.

"No, can't you see? This sets us back so far!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Nott's being held by the Ministry and we've got no other leads on the group. It's going to be difficult to find more. This could take years!"

He let out a long sigh as he stood up, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fleur, it'll be fine, I promise. We'll find another way. We always do."

She glared at him.

"And how is that, Luc? What other way can we get information? Enlighten me," she asked, placing her hands on her hips as she waited for an answer.

He opened and closed his mouth several times before looking at her.

"You won't like it," he said sheepishly.

She raised an eyebrow.

"You could use Harry to get the information we need," Luc explained.

Fleur opened her eyes wide and turned away from him before moving to the window at the far side of the room. She looked up at the moon and let out a low sigh. She couldn't do that to Harry, could she? He was so good to her, so full of life, and he made her feel normal. Almost as if there wasn't this big weight crushing her chest, this burning desire for justice that fueled her. When she was with him, she was just Fleur, a normal curse breaker who lived a normal life doing normal things.

Not an international thief hell-bent on bringing her sister's murderer to justice.

"I can't do that to him," she whispered, though she made sure Luc could hear her.

"You might not have much of a choice, Fleur." He walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. She grabbed it with her own hand and squeezed back. "You need to get some rest, you've had a long night. We'll figure this out over the next few days, but you need to decide how you want to move forward, and that might include leaning on the people you care about to get what you need."

She didn't turn around as he left in a whirl of green fire, she just stood there looking at the moon, a million thoughts racing through her mind. Her brain knew the right answer, the logical choice, but her heart hurt at the idea of more lies being added to her life. Tears began to fall from her eyes as she whispered words she'd said hundreds of times before.

"Oh Gabby, what do I do?"

.

.

"You're sure about this?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

Draco sighed, exasperated.

"Yes Potter, for the hundredth time, none of them are buying their way out of this, though Li's situation is a bit different."

"How so?"

"Why were you not at the meeting when we went over this?" Draco asked in irritation.

"I don't know Malfoy, maybe because of the second degree burns on half my chest and left shoulder?"

Draco sighed again but held his hands up.

"Fair enough," he said. "Li was there as a representative for her father. Or so she claims. Doesn't diminish her actions, but she's offered to help us build another case against him in exchange for us taking that into account."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. Theo had held up his end of the bargain, helping them uncover all the stolen and illegal items from the house, though the fight with the Shadow had destroyed much of the documents in the study. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit disgusted that one of them was still trying to worm their way out of it.

"You look like hell," Draco commented.

"Thanks Malfoy, your input is much appreciated," he replied, looking over at the man. "Now get the fuck away from my desk."

Draco huffed but left nonetheless, a fact Harry was grateful for. He'd gone home for just a few hours to sleep after the raid, damn near forced to by Sirius, but things had been an absolute madhouse in the days since. The unexpected appearance of the Shadow had thrown a new element into the mix as well. He closed his eyes and rubbed them with his hand, feeling someone drop into the seat that had just been vacated.

"Dammit Malfoy, I said get the fu-"

"Easy there, Harry," Tonks said. "It's just me. My cousin fucked off when you told him to."

Harry looked at her with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, my shoulder is still quite stiff so I'm not feeling the best."

"That's because you wouldn't go see a healer and thought a bad field dressing would suffice, so now you've got to use those crappy salves until the burns heal," she said, looking over at his wrapped shoulder and chest.

"Moody used to say dealing with the pain was what separated the good from the great. Said bruises helped make the training stick better," he pointed out.

Tonks was right, of course, but he couldn't begin to think about going see a healer until he knew she and Frank were alright. By the time that happened he had been pulled into a meeting about the Shadow, so he'd done what he could with what he had, just as he'd been trained. The healer who finally checked him out was very displeased, not that he wasn't used to it. The looks he'd gotten from Madam Pomphrey at Hogwarts had been downright withering.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"Better than you," she said with a smirk before leaning forward and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Relax, Harry. Frank and I are fine and there's nothing you could have done differently to prevent us from getting injured. It's part of the job."

"I left the room," he countered.

"To chase down another criminal who wasn't supposed to be there," she pointed out. "One who might be tied up in all this whole mess in some way. You were doing your job, so stop beating yourself up over it. Besides, James already got an earful from Alice, so the Potter men have suffered enough from this."

Harry winced.

"How'd that go?"

Tonks laughed as she leaned back.

"Pretty sure Frank is banned from any sort of field work, though he told James not to listen to Alice. It's been a whole thing." She stood up and looked down at him. "James wants to see you."

Harry nodded and stood up, making his way across the room and to the Head Aurors office, poking his head into the open door.

"You wanted to see me?"

James nodded and smiled up at him from behind his glasses.

"Yeah, just a few things. First, the Minister gave you a commendation for the raid. I tossed it in the fire for you," he said with a smile.

Harry nodded.

"As is tradition."

"Second, Croaker is going to need your memories of seeing Rookwood," James continued. "From what I've been told he's tearing through his department with little regard for politics, but he wants to make sure he's not missing anything. A third of his department has been canned or moved to other sections of the Ministry, though Draco said nobody has been charged with anything."

"I'll drop them into a vial and get them to you in the next few days," Harry confirmed.

James nodded.

"Lastly," he said, standing up and pointing towards the lift, "get the hell out of the department for a bit. Go see Fleur."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but James cut him off.

"No arguments. If you want to take this as an official order then do so. You look like hell, son. You need some time off, at least an afternoon. I'm sure you and Fleur can get up to something that'll take your mind off things," he said with a wink.

Harry scrunched up his nose.

"Ugh, please, just don't," Harry replied before nodding his head and sobering up. "But you're right. Neville took care of most of my paperwork so I don't have much to do here anyway. A bit of time away probably wouldn't hurt."

James smiled before coming around the desk and clapping Harry on the shoulder.

"Now, go out and see your girlfriend. Who knows? Maybe you'll get lucky."

Sirius whistled from his desk not far from the office.

"I hate both of you," Harry deadpanned as he walked away.

.

.

She looked up as the door to the department opened and frowned. She could see him favoring his left side, though she knew he'd likely had it looked at by now. They hadn't seen each other since before the manor, at least not as Fleur and Harry, and the difference in his demeanor was apparent.

"What's wrong?" she asked, placing the notepad back into her apron to give him her full attention.

"What makes you think something's wrong?" he tried lamely.

She scowled at him. He was trying to keep her from worrying, and that was touching, but she needed to know he was okay. That the spell she'd hit him with hadn't done any serious damage. She walked over to him and reached up to touch his left shoulder. He shied away just before she could place her hand down.

A single raised eyebrow was all that was needed for his resolve to crumble.

"Alright, so maybe I got a little toasted on the job," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's nothing, really."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You won't let me touch it but it's nothing?" she asked. "Why have you not had a healer look at it?"

"I did…" he said.

"But…?"

"Just not right away. And I kind of improperly handled it before seeing a healer," he said with a smile. "It's healing though."

"What happened?" she asked.

Liar.

You know what happened.

Harry shrugged slightly.

"The raid went a bit wonky and I ended up getting burned, though the burns are a result of my own carelessness as opposed to any real danger."

"You don't think whatever caused you these wounds was a threat?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"A threat? Yeah. A serious one? No, I don't think they'd have seriously hurt me if they could avoid it."

That caught Fleur's attention, though she made no outward indication. He didn't think she would have severely injured him if it came down to it, and that warmed her heart. She didn't want him to think the Shadow had it out for him, and although she was clearly outmatched in their duel, he was right that she would have never tried anything that would have caused him any lasting harm.

Seeing him with his current wounds made her feel guilty enough.

"Come on," she instructed as she looked up at him. "We're going back to your flat."

He raised an eyebrow and smirked suggestively.

"Ms. Delacour, are you propositioning me?"

She stepped closer to him, placing a tender hand on the side of his face and giving him a sultry look. He leaned down as she moved to place her mouth by his ear.

"I want to…" she whispered, "make you dinner and redress your wounds."

With a laugh at the look on his face she patted him on the cheek as she pulled away.

"Evil witch," he mumbled as his cheeks flushed a light scarlet.

She took his hand into hers and began leading him out of the room.

"Come on, let's get you resting. You look like you're in a bit of pain. Do you have enough for a home cooked meal?"

Harry smiled at her and attempted a small shrug.

"I guess we'll find out?"

Fleur rolled her eyes and led him out of the curse breaking department and the bank proper, not slowing down until they were at the apparition point near the Alley. With just a look at him she popped them over to his flat, landing gracefully in his kitchen, though she noticed he grunted as his feet hit the ground. She sent him a look.

"Haven't really done much apparition in the last couple days. Floo seems to agree with my shoulder more," he explained.

Her eyes widened in concern.

"Oh, I didn't even think about that. I'm so sorry!"

He waved her off.

"Don't worry about it," he said casually, opening the cabinet and looking back at her. "You want a drink?"

She took him by the hand and pulled him out of the kitchen, pushing him down gently into one of the chairs at the table.

"I'll get it," she insisted, "I'm supposed to be feeding you, so stop trying to be a good host and just rest."

"Fine, fine," he said, holding his hands up. "Damn, you're more insistent than Alice when I get hurt in the field."

Fleur moved back to the kitchen and grabbed two wine glasses and a bottle. A smile crossed her face as she noticed it was one that she had, in passing, mentioned last month that she enjoyed. She poured two glasses and returned one to him at the table.

"She's probably just looking out for you."

He huffed and took a sip of his wine.

"That's what Frank says." He looked at the glass of wine and up at her as she made her way back to the kitchen to take stock of what he had available. "You weren't kidding, this is good stuff."

"I'm honestly surprised you remembered," she said as she began to wave her wand, ingredients, seasoning, and utensils floating into the air. "I mentioned it in passing. Didn't think you were listening."

He laughed.

"I may not be very bright, but I do know to listen when a pretty woman speaks."

She hummed as she began to prepare their dinner, a simple chicken-based French dish that was her childhood favorite, letting the process wash away the stress of the day. As the knife began cutting the chicken, she heated the stove and placed the bacon in the Dutch oven. She continued to hum as she set the knife to chop the mushrooms, but stopped when Harry groaned in protest.

Casting a glance his way she could see him shedding his outer robe gently, pulling his left side free from the confines. Underneath the robe was a loose shirt, a necessity considering the bandaging that still wrapped around his chest and shoulder. She frowned and went back to her preparations, guilt welling inside of her. She had done that. She'd done it without a second thought, so intent on getting the information she needed that it hadn't even crossed her mind that he might get burned.

Luc's words filtered through her mind as she began to remove the bacon and place it on a plate.

We'll figure this out over the next few days, but you need to decide how you want to move forward, and that might include leaning on the people you care about to get what you need.

She'd been adamant about not bringing him into this, content with finding another way, but that was proving to be difficult. Luc had worked tirelessly over the last three days to find other sources of information, but each one turned up nothing. Each dead end pushed her closer to facing the fact that she may have to do what she didn't want to. Luc had remained silent, but the looks he'd given her had spoken volumes.

"Hey," Harry said, breaking her out of her ruminations, "have you ever seen a spell that can make it seem like there's four of you in the room?"

Why was he bringing up the spells she'd used that night? Panic flooded through her for an instant before she pushed it away.

She nodded her head.

"Just a bit of illusion magic," she confirmed, wiping her hands on a towel as she looked over at him. "It doesn't require a lot of power, but it can be difficult to get right. Not casting illusion spells properly can make them very easy to see through."

She looked back at the stove and began placing the chicken into the Dutch oven, sliding the lid on with a flick of her wand.

"Why do you ask?"

He took a sip of his wine and she could see the internal debate going on in his head, but wasn't quite sure where he was going with this. Terror once more shot through her at the idea that he'd figured out it was her, but she pushed it back down. There was no way he'd know. She'd been careful, incredibly careful, and had years of practice at remaining careful. A couple run-ins with him wouldn't break that care.

She grabbed her own glass of wine and took a sip. She performed a few casual swipes with her wand before jabbing the tip of it at the stove. The rest of the meal would cook itself until it was ready. She moved back out of the kitchen and sat down in the chair opposite of him. He didn't look up at her, though his brow was still furrowed in concentration.

"Is everything alright, Harry?" she asked.

He opened and closed his mouth several times, apparently unable to find the right words to say. She didn't know if she was grateful for that or not. Her heart beat faster and her ears were warm in anticipation. Her skin tingled as she casually slipped her hand into her robes, gripping her wand tightly.

Finally he looked up at her.

"Have you ever heard of the Shadow?"

She forced her hand to loosen the grip around her wand as she nodded.

"My family told me about them when I was visiting a few years ago," she said, taking another sip of wine to give herself time to think. "They were stealing from wealthy French magical families and muggle museums. Made the headlines quite a bit."

He nodded.

"Yeah, though the French Ministry thinks the stuff they stole from the museums were all magical in nature," he revealed.

She opened her eyes wide. That hadn't been public knowledge, but it was incredibly accurate. Everything she stole from the muggle world had some sort of connection to the magical one, either by being an item of old magic or containing something within that held magic. Harry had just given her classified information.

She let her hand slip from her wand completely as he hissed in pain.

"Where are your supplies?" she asked, moving her chair to sit next to him as he flicked his wand, a large jar of salve and several rolls of bandages floating in from the other room. She looked at his shirt and up at him.

"Come on, let's change those bandages. Shirt off Mister."

He chuckled as he complied.

"You're attractive when you're assertive," he joked.

"If I wanted to get you naked, Potter, you'd know it," she replied with a smile before grabbing the salve and bandages. "Now turn to face me. I'll take off the old bandages and reapply the salve."

She got to work, unrolling the bandages from his shoulder first, knowing that the fire she had burned him with would have left his skin sensitive to magic. As the last of the bandage fell she inspected the skin, frowning at the irritated texture that it had taken on. Quickly she moved to the bandages on his chest, undoing them and letting the dirty ones fall to the ground. It took everything in her power not to gasp at the large burn that covered half his chest.

It was a mixture of red and pink cracked, angry skin that contrasted sharply with the other side of his chest.

She'd caused these wounds.

"Hey," he said softly, causing her to look up at him. He smiled. "It's not that bad. Really, it looks worse than it is."

"It looks plenty bad," she replied, looking back down at the burns, "so you'll forgive me if I don't believe you."

"It's nothing, really. Just a temporary inconvenience at worst. I got reckless," he reasoned.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Reckless?"

He nodded.

"I could have blocked it, or stepped out of the way, but I didn't. I got too caught up in the moment. I've got nobody to blame but myself for that."

Fleur nodded as she opened the jar, fully aware that he didn't realize the impact of his words. She'd caused his pain, but he didn't direct the blame at the Shadow. It didn't lessen her guilt, not really, but it did make it feel less suffocating. She began to gently apply the cool salve to the burns on his chest when he spoke again.

"They're here."

Her hand stopped and she looked up at him.

"What?"

"The Shadow," he clarified, "they're no longer in France. They're here in England."

She resumed her job of applying the salve, moving on to his shoulder, hoping that he wouldn't feel her quickening heartbeat through her fingers.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Yeah, I've seen them twice. First at the Malfoy party and then again the other night, at the Nott manor raid."

Finished with the salve, she vanished the remains on her hand before taking a deep breath and grabbing the bandages. Looking up, they locked eyes.

"Did they…?" she asked, trailing off but gesturing towards the burns.

He nodded.

"Yeah, but like I said, I don't blame anyone but me. I could have stopped them quicker but I didn't."

She could tell him to stop talking. Ask him if he's supposed to be telling her this, and when he said no, tell him to stop. That it was none of her business. That she didn't want him getting into trouble because he told her something she wasn't supposed to know. Yet, she'd already let him talk this much, let him give her this much information that she wasn't supposed to know. She could still choose to stop it.

Once again, Luc's words filtered through her mind.

You might not have much of a choice, Fleur.

How did the saying go? In for a knut, in for a galleon?

"Am I to assume you are telling me this no doubt classified information for a reason?" she asked, looking at him as she began to wrap his shoulder.

He nodded.

"They're…really good with fancy spellwork. Ridiculously good at clever charms and misdirection." He smiled. "I was able to take them down in a straight duel, but they matched me in non-magical combat. That's me saying I've never run into anyone like them out in the field."

She finished wrapping his shoulder and grabbed another roll of bandages, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm happy to listen, Harry, but I still don't see why you're telling me this."

He looked almost embarrassed as she began to wrap his chest.

"I need your help," he admitted.

She didn't let on that her internal alarms were ringing, or the shock she felt at the words, she simply kept wrapping his chest until she was done, leaning back in her chair to give him a long look. His eyes were pleading, an almost puppy dog-like quality to them that would have melted her heart and had her doing whatever he needed in an instant…if she weren't the person he was talking about.

Why did this have to be so complicated?

"With what?" she prodded, finishing off her glass of wine. She would need another before the night was over.

"I need help beating them," he said seriously, sliding his shirt back over his head, though she noticed he didn't groan in protest as he moved his shoulder. "They're tied up in this cult business that the rest of the department is working on, and I found this thing about Regulus at the manor, so I just know they're going to show up again."

She froze.

He'd found something at the manor? They'd burned everything in the office, she'd seen it herself before leaving. The desk was nearly completely engulfed in flames when he'd bested her, but something had survived? Wheels began turning in her head as she took quick stock of the situation.

"What sort of help?" she asked.

"Help me take them down," he replied with conviction. "They're clearly an expert at charms and so are you. My mum has consulted for the department before, but she's all the way at Hogwarts these days, so I'm asking you. I hate to involve you in this, but I think taking down the Shadow would help give us a better idea of what the overall picture looks like."

Harry was asking her for help to, essentially, investigate herself. He clearly wasn't supposed to be telling her about any of this, but he was here, desperate for any sort of advantage to help him do his job. She admired him for that, the way he thought outside of the box instead of just beating his head against the wall. It was one of the reasons she was able to operate so freely in France, because their Aurors didn't think outside the box.

She admired him for that and hated herself for what she was about to do.

"Alright, I'll help," she said with a smile.

He beamed at her.

"Great!" he said, jumping up, quickly wincing as his shoulder protested. He recovered after a moment and began pacing. He gave her a full rundown of both of their encounters, and she was both horrified and fascinated to hear them from another perspective. He was clearly enamoured with her skill, but also cautious enough not to jump to any conclusions.

"Have they spoken with you during any of this?" she asked as the timer went off signifying the food was ready. With a few casual flicks of her wand the plates began to fill, slowly floating over to the table and landing in front of them.

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, a bit, but not much," he said, and she could see the slightest bit of pink enter his cheeks.

She almost smiled, but took a bite of food to play it off. He was embarrassed about the flirting, but he shouldn't be. It was the best part of their encounters in her opinion.

"I'm thinking I need to get that voice distortion charm removed. If I can just talk to them properly…" he said after swallowing his first bite. He looked down at the plate and back at her. "This is delicious by the way."

She nodded.

"So their voice is distorted?" she asked.

"Yeah," confirmed Harry, "it gives them a bit of a robotic tone."

Fleur bit her lip as she concentrated. She could help him nullify the charm with ease. She did, after all, develop and cast it herself, but that would simply lead him to her quicker. She needed to get more information out of him about this Regulus person, which meant she needed a way to extend the time she spent helping him.

Perhaps a bit of classic misdirection, right from a thieves playbook?

"I could probably develop something to help with that," she finally said and his eyes lit up.

"Really?"

She nodded.

"I think so. Voices are unique to each person, so the spell they're using would be incredibly unique."

Truth.

"But, if I were able to disrupt the magic itself, prevent it from working even not knowing how it was done, that should revert their voice back to normal."

Lie.

A bold lie, one she was now fully committed to. She wouldn't give him anything to reveal the identity of the Shadow, no, that wouldn't be helpful. Instead, she'd develop something that would simply make her sound like someone else entirely.

As they started chatting about the possibilities and what testing would be needed, she felt the guilt begin to rise again. It was far greater than before, all-encompassing, as if she were being swept away to sea. Before it was simply for hurting him, now it was for actively working against him.

As his eyes continued to glow with child-like happiness, her thoughts turned towards the future. She hoped he'd be the one to show her how to live a normal life when this was all over.

She didn't know if that would be possible anymore, as she wasn't sure he'd forgive her if he ever found out what she'd done.

Chapter Text

He knocked on the door and quickly let himself in, closing it quietly as he looked up to see her. She was standing in her usual spot at the center workbench, another artifact in front of her, though this one wasn't floating like the last few he'd seen. It was a simple wooden figure, clearly carved by hand, with sharp edges and lines etched deep into the wood.

"Another curse successfully broken?" he asked as he moved towards the bench.

She nodded.

"This one wasn't very difficult. It's been in the backlog for quite some time," she replied.

A matching wooden box floated towards her. She snatched it out of the air, picked up the figure, and placed it inside before closing the lid. She placed the box onto the workbench and tapped the top twice. A brief glow signaled that it had been sealed. With a casual flick of her wrist the box floated away and settled onto a shelf.

"It's actually going to be a museum piece, or so I'm told." She wiped her hands on her apron and sent him an odd look. Briefly, she opened her mouth before closing it, as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it. She glanced at his robes and smiled up at him. "I've finished the spell."

His eyes lit up. It had almost been a week since he'd spoken about the Shadow with her. Since she'd agreed to help him bring her down. It had been a whirlwind of activity for both of them, him assisting in the case being brought against those that were taken down in the raid on Nott manor while she had been inundated with requests at the bank.

Luckily, she'd made progress on designing the spell to counteract the voice distortion that the Shadow was using to disguise herself. He wasn't expected back in the department for a few hours, so he figured it was finally time to start making inroads into their plans. It also meant he could finally give the team back at the Ministry something new on the case.

"Fantastic," he said, "how does it work?"

She whipped out her wand and made a quick V motion in the air, ending it with a flourish that went up. The space in front of her lit for an instant before it appeared as if nothing happened.

"The Shadow likely cast the spell on themselves instead of their clothes," she explained as she turned towards him, "so as I said, it'll be almost impossible to develop a counter for it. The voice is so unique to every person. Different tones, pitches, and inflections when we speak. Even if you know the person, you don't know the details of their voice like they do."

She pointed to the space in front of him.

"Lucky for us, the base magic used to change your voice is the same. You're changing one sound into another." She looked up at him and smiled. "I could, if I wanted to, make you sound like this."

She pressed her wand to his throat and muttered a few words. He felt the tip of her wand warm before unfamiliar magic worked its way into his body. It wasn't unpleasant, he wasn't revolted by it, but it was different. He looked down at her and she gestured for him to speak.

"Make me sound like what?" he said, eyes widening as his voice came out at an incredibly high pitch.

She laughed as she placed her wand against his throat again and he felt the same magic wash over him. She then placed her wand over her own throat and he saw a brief glow wash through her.

"I can make myself sound the same," she said, the same high pitch as him coming from her.

He nodded.

"Right," he said as she repeated the canceling spell on herself, "so the basics are the same but the details are difficult. If we tried to counter the spell it could just change their voice into something else instead of nullifying it."

She smiled.

"Exactly right. So, we've got the building blocks, the core of the spell, if you will. What we do is create a space where those building blocks cannot function. In this case, we remove the ability for the charm to alter any sounds at all."

She pointed at the space in front of them.

"The only way to accomplish this, however, is to cast it on a specific area."

He raised an eyebrow.

"There's no way to attach it to a person?"

She shook her head.

"People are too…squishy, for lack of a better term," she said, furrowing her brow at his questioning look. "Magic interacts with living things differently than it does inanimate objects. It's more difficult to…anchor a spell to a person versus, say, a spot on the floor."

"Reasonable enough," Harry said as the explanation sunk in. He raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever thought about becoming a teacher? I think you'd be brilliant."

She smiled at him.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Potter."

He winked at her before straightening up and indicating for her to continue.

"Right, so you'll need to trap them, it doesn't matter how, but as long as they're stationary you can cast the spell and it should nullify their work while they're busy trying to free themselves." She looked up at him. "It'll give you a chance to get them talking. Just a chance, but it's better than nothing. Ready to learn?"

For the next half hour they practiced, first slowly, going over the wand movement at a casual pace. She wanted to ensure he got the flourish at the end correct. Gradually she had him increase the pace until he was doing it at normal speed. Then it was just a matter of adding in the words, but by then he had mastered the more difficult part.

All the while he couldn't help but once again be impressed by Fleur. She was a natural, and he meant it when he told her she'd make a fantastic teacher. She was patient and kind, critiquing his form while giving him the confidence he needed to get it right. He hadn't been properly taught by anyone in years, and his last round of schooling had come at the end of a wand with little sympathy for mistakes.

As she called it a success he looked over at her and stopped. A strand of hair had escaped from her messy bun, falling in front of her face, and there was something about the way she looked in that moment that made his heart beat faster. She looked like she was glowing, and the smile on her face at his triumph made him feel as if he could take on the world.

She was radiant.

He reached out and brushed the strand of hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek, leaning down, and kissing her. She reciprocated in kind, kissing him back with just as much tenderness. They broke apart and she smiled up at him.

"What was that for?" she asked.

"Because…" he started, but stopped. He smiled. "You're kind of brilliant. So, thank you."

She shook her head.

"You don't have to thank me."

"But I do," he countered as he released her and leaned back against the workbench. "You've helped me out a lot here. I get the feeling this is going to kickstart things with the team, and it wouldn't have happened without you."

She leaned back against the workbench next to him and rested her head on his arm as they looked out the small window in front of them. She was warm, and he could smell a faint hint of cinnamon in the air. He smiled. He could get used to this.

"I thought more about the Shadow while I was working on the spell," she said after several moments, breaking the comfortable silence. "I remembered picking up some papers while I was visiting my parents ages ago."

"What did they say?" he asked.

"If my memory isn't wrong, it seemed as if all the major papers at the time had credible information that the Shadow was connected to organized crime in France, specifically La Société pour l'amélioration de la France."

"For the Frenchly-challenged…?" he asked teasingly. "French is just words waiting to be translated into a real language."

She bumped her elbow against him.

"They call themselves 'The Society for the Improvement of France.' La Société for short. They're one of the biggest organized crime families operating in France," she explained. "I remember the papers being pretty confident in the connection."

"I've heard of them," Harry said as the English translation rang a bell in his mind. "Some of their dirty laundry spilled over here about a month ago. Just a small information exchange between us and the French Ministry. We had a junior Auror handle it."

Something clicked in Harry's brain. Organized crime could be the link to Rabastan that he'd been missing.

Fleur looked up at him.

"Perhaps the Shadow isn't here permanently? Perhaps she's just stopping by?" she mused.

Harry shrugged as he stood up, looking at the clock on the wall. He should probably get back to the office. It was time to start putting his plan into motion, though he was sure his dad wouldn't be happy he'd held onto the information about Regulus for so long.

"Maybe, maybe not," he said. "Regardless, we've got to operate under the assumption they're here to stay."

He hugged her and kissed her cheek.

"Dinner?" he asked.

She shook her head with a frown.

"Unfortunately, I've got to work late tonight." She gestured towards the opposite wall where a black and purple box rested on the workbench. "Your mother got back to me about the runes I'm having trouble with. She was very insightful, so I think I can get it done. There's a bit of a time crunch on that one so I'm going to attempt to finish it up."

He nodded and smiled, squeezing her shoulder before turning around and walking out of the room. Things were moving in the right direction and he knew that, with Fleur on one side and his team on the other, they'd figure out this case in no time. They'd find this Lord Riddle and shut down their operation, and maybe catch an international thief in the process.

.

.

It was several hours later when James opened the door to the war room, popping his head in to look at Harry.

"Everything alright in here, son?"

Harry gave him a cursory glance before turning back to the board, continuing to write upon its smooth surface.

"Yeah, just working some stuff out," he said.

"I see that," James replied, stepping fully into the room. "You want to let the rest of us in on the party? Neville said you've been here since you got back from the bank."

He pointed at the board.

"You want to tell me what all this is?"

"This," Harry said, stepping back from the board and giving it a long look, "is progress."

In the middle of the board, at the top, the word CULT? was written in big letters. From there, it spread, lines running from the word to other names and places, things they already knew and those that he suspected. The names of all those arrested at the Nott house had been separated on one section of the board, each one with details under their names containing what their family was known for in the department. Burke's name was directly next to them with the words "primary source?" written next to him.

A bidirectional arrow ran from the right of the word CULT? over to the Shadow, the words "Connection?" written below. A smaller line ran down from the Shadow ending in "Organized Crime?"

In the very center of the board was the name Lord Riddle.

Harry looked at James and smiled.

"Is the team here?"

James shook his head.

"Dawlish and Proudfoot are still with Legal wrapping up statements. Alice is down in the archives trying to verify something Sue Li claimed. Seamus went home to see his wife and I have no idea where Tonks is." He raised an eyebrow. "Need to toss some ideas around?"

"Kind of," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I need to tell the team something."

James nodded and reopened the door, leaning halfway out.

"Sirius. Frank. Neville. Get in here, Harry has something."

As his three coworkers made their way into the room Harry took a deep breath. He'd done as much as he could alone, though Alice had gotten the bulk of the information displayed on the board for him. He would need to thank her profusely the next time he saw her. He'd never met anyone who could get information from other departments as fast as she could, though she was never willing to share her methods.

Sirius was standing in front of the board when he looked back up.

"Compiling everything we've gotten so far?" he asked as he looked up and down the board.

Harry nodded.

"Kind of," he said, "it's more about me trying to piece things together so that our next moves aren't without good information."

Frank grunted.

"Spell it out for us kid, some of this looks like gibberish."

"Right," Harry said with a deep breath, stepping to the middle of the board. "For lack of a better name, I'm just calling them a cult for now. The unicorn blood makes me lean that way, but it could be something else. Most of the left side of the board is dedicated to what we know. At least seven people directly involved in smuggling illegal artifacts, all potentially containing unicorn blood, through our slice of the world."

He pointed at the list of names of those who had been arrested.

"Alice did a lot of digging and was able to get hold of a substantial amount of business records for Crabb, Goyle, Nott, Parkinson, and Li. Crabb and Goyle both have dealings in Spain. Nott has dealings in Italy. Parkinson has a potions business that has locations in Germany, Belgium, and Denmark. Li's family holds a majority share of the second largest broom maker in all of Asia."

He looked back at the seated team.

"The more I dig, the more I think these families have been part of a larger operation that spans more than just what we're seeing here."

Neville nodded.

"It makes sense." He pointed at Burke's name on the board. "Utilize Burke's international black market contacts to keep anything moving between countries decentralized. Burke's the only one who knows everyone, but he's been doing it for so long that he knows how to not get caught."

"Exactly," Harry agreed, snapping his fingers.

"So how does Rookwood fit into this?" Frank asked.

"Croaker has basically shut down communication into or out of his department," James said, "but the Minister thinks that Rookwood was being used to steer us away from this group whenever we got too close for comfort. If one of our own investigations was starting to get within a certain distance of their lot then Rookwood was using his own influence here to misdirect us."

Sirius rubbed the back of his head.

"But we've been closing cases like normal for years. In fact, our closure rate has been on the rise, meaning we're getting better at our jobs. You mean to tell me he was smarter than all of us? That none of us could tell we were being manipulated?"

James shrugged.

"Minister didn't give me more." He blew out a long breath as he leaned back in his chair. "If I had to guess, I'd say it was twofold. First, he wasn't steering us away from completing our actual objectives. My guess is that he probably helped us more often than hindered our progress. Nudge us just enough away from their operation that we simply move on once we're done."

"And the other?" asked Harry.

"He probably had someone else helping him."

"Like who?" Sirius said with a raised eyebrow.

"Draco said all of this stinks of his father. Think about it. Rookwood was an Unspeakable, yeah, but not that influential. Nott's the only other one we arrested that has legitimate political power, but not enough to get very specific people to look the other way or change their story ever-so-slightly." James chuckled. "Draco also said Nott isn't brave enough to do anything without consulting Lucious first."

Harry nodded.

"I agree." Everyone turned to look at him. "What? When was the last time something shady went down here and the Malfoy name wasn't somehow, even in some small way, connected?"

"That's a fair point," conceded James.

Sirius raised his hand, causing Harry to roll his eyes and nod at him.

"What I want to know," his godfather said, "Is who the hell Lord Riddle is, and why is my brother's name written below it?"

"Yeah, that." Harry took a deep breath and looked at James. "Hear me out before you jump me, alright?"

James pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Dammit Harry, the last time you said that we had to explain to the goblins why a six foot tall Blast-Ended Skrewt was knocking on the bank door at the crack of dawn."

"In Harry's defense," Neville chimed in, "that was more Hagrid's fault."

James simply glared at him before looking back at Harry, indicating for him to continue. Harry reached into his robes and pulled out the half-burnt sheet of parchment, unrolling it carefully and handing it to Sirius.

"I found that at the manor the night of the raid."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" exclaimed James. "Please, for the love of Merlin, tell me you did not withhold evidence from the team for an entire fucking week?"

Frank sighed and rubbed his face, shaking his head lightly.

"You better have a damn good reason for this kid," he said, reading the page before passing it to James.

Harry waited until his dad had read the note and handed it to Neville. He'd been on the receiving end of an infamous James Potter rant before, mostly in his early years in the department, when mistakes were plenty and wins were far fewer. Despite their close relationship, his dad knew there were no favorites when they walked through the doors, so he never showed Harry any leniency. If anything, he was harder on him, critiqued him twice as much, made sure he knew when he screwed up.

He admired him for it and wouldn't want it to be any other way. He was a better detective because the Head Auror expected the best from everyone on his team, including his own son. Especially his own son.

"Harry, I could fire you for this," James finally said as he rubbed his face with his palm. "It was bad enough that the study caught fire, but this? This looks bad. It makes us all look bad."

"Dad, look-"

"Do you have any idea of the political tightrope we're walking here?" continued James, cutting off Harry's protest. "I've been in and out of meetings with Legal and the Minister the entire week having to justify and prove that everything we did was by the book." He grabbed the paper from the desk and held it up. "This? This puts that in jeopardy. Gives people like Nott the chance to walk free."

"James, perhaps we should let him explain?" Sirius suggested.

James gave his best friend a long look and Harry could tell one of their silent conversations was taking place. He'd seen them do this often while growing up, as if they knew what the other was thinking and could have mental arguments without voicing a single word. Finally James nodded.

Harry walked over to James and plucked the paper from his hand before walking back to the board, reading the note once more before turning around.

"I think this," he said, holding up the note, "ties it all together."

"Ties what together?" asked Nevile.

Harry pointed towards the right side of the board.

"I think it's why the Shadow is involved with this."

James raised an eyebrow. "You'll have to explain that one to me."

Harry looked at Sirius.

"Your brother and Rabastan were best friends in school, right?"

Sirius nodded.

"Yeah. They were like James and I except, you know, way less handsome," he confirmed with a smile.

"And what is the Lestrange family known for?" Harry prodded.

"Officially? They own the third largest supplier of parchment in Europe. Unofficially? Crime mostly, with some dark magic on the side. Though nobody has ever been able to prove it, they've got operations all over London, Scotland, and Ireland. Quite rich from it all."

Harry nodded.

"Right, so how do you get a bunch of influential families to do things that could possibly land them with long prison sentences if they get caught?" Harry asked.

"Threats of violence usually work, though you'd have to be coming from a place of power," Sirius reasoned. "People like Burke are easy to intimidate, but people like Nott and Parkison? It would take way more than threats to get them in line."

"So what if you had a family rumored to be into the darkest things imaginable telling you to work with them and they'll make you even wealthier, with an undertone of a threat?" Harry prodded.

Sirius blew out a deep breath.

"That's a big stretch, but it might work. People like Malfoy, Nott, and Parkinson are always looking to stretch their banks and influence, and if the Lestrange's and this Riddle character promised to do that I could see it happening. The question is why though? Why would they follow this Riddle person?"

Harry frowned and his shoulders sagged slightly.

"That's what I still don't know, but I think Regulus can fill in that gap."

"Before we unpack that family boggart," Frank said, waving his hand, "How does the Shadow fit in here?"

Harry smiled.

"I've been leaning on a source who's heard that the Shadow is tied to organized crime in France." He couldn't help but be amused at the thought of calling Fleur a source. "So, it's possible they've linked up with the Lestrange family to combine operations and make movement between here and France easier."

He ran a hand through his hair.

"Or maybe the Shadow is hunting the group, and this Lord Riddle is their leader. Maybe they stepped into the wrong territory across the pond and the Shadow is here to dig up dirt to use against them. Knowledge is power, even for criminals."

"That's a pretty big stretch," James pointed out. "Who's the source?"

Harry shook his head.

"Not yet. I'll tell you once I've gotten more, though I think they can lead me to the Shadow. Or at the very least, help me catch them."

Sirius raised his hand again.

"Let's get back to my brother." His lip curled in displeasure. "As much as the thought sickens me."

Harry pointed back at the center of the board.

"This Lord Riddle thinks your brother and Rabastan are dirty. Even if they're not, it's worth checking out, don't you think?"

"How are you supposed to get him to help?" Sirius asked. "I haven't spoken to Regulus in almost twenty years. The last time I saw him we got into a fist fight."

"Can you get Narcissa to set up a meeting?" Harry asked.

Narcissa Malfoy was an unpleasant woman who believed she was Merlin's gift to man. She was vain and haughty in a practiced way that had been ingrained in her since birth. It's a small miracle that Draco was a functional adult, given who his parents were. Still, she was the best option they had, and there was one key detail.

She owed him a favor.

Sirius scratched the back of his head.

"Maybe?" he guessed. "I don't know. She's probably going to want something in return."

"We're not letting Nott go free," James said forcefully.

Harry waved them both off, a wide grin on his face.

"We won't have to. What's the one thing purebloods hate more than muggleborns?"

Sirius' eyes grew wide.

"Narcissa Malfoy owes you a favor?"

Harry nodded, a cheeky grin still plastered on his face.

"Yep, and not just a small one. I saved Draco's life a few years ago."

"When did this happen?" Frank asked with a raised eyebrow.

"The night of Zabini's stag party. Him and his friends were out drunk and got into a fight with another group of drunks. Draco got unlucky and was hit with a nasty curse. I was coming back from meeting an informant when I saw the end of the fight."

"How have I never heard about this?" asked James.

Harry shrugged.

"Draco asked me not to tell anyone." He looked back at Sirius. "So tell Narcissa we're even if she sets this up."

Sirius scratched his chin and thought for a long moment before looking over at James.

"This…isn't the worst plan we've ever come up with."

James sighed and nodded.

"What do we do with this evidence?" Neville asked, pointing at the page.

It was evidence from the scene of the raid. Evidence that he'd hidden. It should be handed over, put in with everything else they found. That was the right thing to do, but Harry was sure that wasn't the smart thing to do. Without a word he grabbed the paper and touched the tip of his wand to it, igniting it. He watched until it disappeared into ashes.

James got up and walked out with a word. Sirius laughed and clapped Harry on the back.

"He'll calm down, don't worry. We all know that was the best thing for it." The grin fell off his face as he gave Harry a determined look. "Give me some time to set things up with Regulus. You and I will go, no one else."

Harry nodded. This would work, he knew it, and it would bring them one step closer to figuring out the puzzle that was Lord Riddle.

He silently hoped it would also lead to another encounter with the Shadow.

.

.

"Stop sulking or your face will get stuck like that."

Harry shook his head, brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Lily's voice.

"What was that?"

Lily rolled her eyes.

"I said stop sulking," she repeated, "my son looks much more handsome when he's not frowning."

He nodded and smiled at her before taking another bite of food. He was at his parents house for their regular weekly meal, though James had gotten caught up at the Ministry. He'd disappeared into his office, but not before giving Harry instructions to have dinner without him. His mum had been disappointed, but she quickly recovered, saying time with him was time well spent.

"Honestly, Harry," she said, placing her fork on her plate and giving him a hard look, "he won't be angry with you for long, you know that."

He shrugged.

"It's not the anger that I'm worried about," he admitted.

"What then?" Lily asked, though she had one of those knowing looks. The ones she used to give him growing up when she knew the answer but wanted to see if he could get it himself.

"The way he looked at me when he told me to have dinner without him wasn't anger." Harry looked up at his mother. "He's disappointed, and I think that's far worse."

She laughed lightly and covered her mouth.

"Never change my sweet boy, never change." He raised an eyebrow in confusion. "You've always given it your all when it comes to making sure you never let down anyone counting on you. Going above and beyond in most cases. Yet you've still felt the need to prove yourself, drive yourself even harder, and the one time you slip up you don't know what to do."

Harry sighed.

"Am I that easy to read?" he asked.

"No, not particularly," Lily said as she flicked her wand, sending their plates into the kitchen for cleaning. "I'm your mother, it's my job to look at you and know exactly what you're thinking."

"Got any advice, oh wise one?"

"Just let him cool off," she advised. "In a few days you'll be back to giving each other a hard time and he'll be back bragging about you to everyone when you're not around."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"He does that?"

Lily nodded.

"Has since the day you learned to walk." She laughed as she got a distant look in her eyes, reliving a memory. "The day you made the Quidditch team at Hogwarts? I don't think there was an employee at the Ministry who didn't know by the end of the week."

Harry shook his head and chuckled.

"No wonder people think I have it easy."

"They wouldn't think that if they knew what Mad Eye put you through," Lily growled before shaking her head. "Enough of that though. I spoke with Fleur."

He nodded.

"Yeah, she told me you two have been writing to each other about the runes issue she's having."

"We have," confirmed Lily, giving him a sly smile, "but we had a floo call yesterday."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He knew where this was going, it was the same conversation they had every time he was dating someone. He'd had it several times at Hogwarts and at least twice in the years he dated Ginny. Hell, she'd even somehow found out he and Astoria were having an incredibly brief fling and managed to work one in.

It was the same every time. She'd ask what they were like. She'd want to know how things were going. They'd talk for a while before eventually she'd warn him not to get hurt. Fathers weren't the only parents who could be overprotective of their children, he'd learned over the years. Far from it. His dad encouraged him to date and date often, though that might be more Sirius' influence than anything.

"Oh, she's wonderful Harry," Lily said with a wide smile.

He cocked his head to the side.

"She…is?"

"Yes you big oaf, and you should know that." She gave him a chiding look before smiling again. "She's brilliant and just the absolute sharpest. We talked for over an hour last night about charms and runes. It was simply fantastic."

Harry scratched the back of his head, unsure of what to say. These were…uncharted waters.

"It…was?"

"Are you broken or something?" Lily asked, causing Harry to raise his hands in defeat.

"Sorry, it's just, this is kind of new," he said defensively.

"You've dated before, Harry," she replied. "Shall I list them chronologically or alphabetically?"

"Not that, mum," he grunted, rolling his eyes. "Though it's kind of scary you can legitimately do that."

"It's a mother thing," Lily replied casually.

"I meant you approving of someone I'm dating," he clarified. "That's never happened. Ever."

She gasped.

"I have too!"

"Have not!" Harry shot back with a smile. "Remember what you told me about Ginny after we both graduated?"

Lily looked away, suddenly very interested in the paint on the walls.

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," she tried.

"I'll remind you then," he offered, clearing his throat. "You said, quote, 'Don't try to force a relationship just because you think it's what everyone else expects. Do what makes you happy.' Ringing any bells yet?"

Lily huffed.

"I never said that."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"When we broke up you said you were glad because it was like looking at a younger you each time Ginny was around."

"Well it was!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up as Harry laughed. "Neither you nor your father could see it. I nearly made him see a healer to get his eyes checked!"

"What I'm saying is it means a lot to me that you like Fleur," he said, eyes still sparkling with humor. "She's great, and I really like her."

"Oh, Harry, that's so wonderful to hear," Lily said, eyes brightening and a smile returning to her face. "I could tell you mean a lot to her."

His eyes opened wide.

"Really?"

"Yes, really," she confirmed. "We talked about you. She told me a bit about why she moved here, about her sister dying, but I got the sense there was something more."

"More?"

Lily nodded.

"Yeah, though I couldn't quite place it. Maybe it's just my mother's intuition, but there's more to Fleur Delacour than smarts and a nice figure." She looked over at Harry. "Does she make you happy?"

He nodded and smiled.

"She does, and it's different than it was with Ginny. Or anyone else." He ran a hand through his raven locks and looked down at the table. "Each time I see her she does something totally unexpected but absolutely brilliant. She'll listen to me bitch and whine about my day but she never dismisses it. She'll know exactly what to say when I'm done and instantly things are turning around."

Lily beamed at him.

"Oh honey, I'm so glad you've found someone who really fits with you. Even if she's French," she added with a wink.

They both laughed at the terribly unfunny joke, but he couldn't help but notice that a knot, one he hadn't even known was there, unwound in his chest. He hadn't spoken to his parents much about Fleur in the months they'd been dating, casual mentions in conversations aside, but he hadn't realized just how much his mum's opinion mattered to him. He'd never cared before what she thought of the people he dated, and his dad was always on his side, so it was truly an odd sensation to experience.

He wondered if perhaps it had less to do with his parents opinion and more to do with his own deepening feelings for the blonde curse breaker who he'd found a comfortable place in his life for?

Chapter Text

He tapped the marker against the table as he stared up at the board, hoping some insight or realization would hit him. He'd added a star next to Regulus, an indication to himself that they were in progress on that front. Sirius had warned him it would take time, and that was proving to be true. He didn't know how long it would take his godfather to coax Narcissa from her ivory tower, but once he did then she would fall in line. Begrudgingly, of course, but wiping the slate clean would be motivation enough.

A knock sounded behind him. He turned to see Tonks poking her head into the room.

"That French Auror Dupont is here to see you," she said.

He nodded.

"Good," he replied and stood up, stretching his back before following Tonks to his desk. An irritated Frenchman was standing there, a large box next to him on the oak surface.

"Mr. Dupont, thank you for bringing over these files," Harry said, holding out his hand as a sign of goodwill.

The two hadn't parted on the best of terms the last time, Harry being upset that the other had insisted on all but interrogating him about the Shadow. Silently, he thought Dupont was simply sour that their team had made more progress in finding information on the thief in a single operation than the French team had in years. It was, after all, a bit embarrassing and a bad look for their counterparts.

"No worries, Mr. Potter," Dupont responded, shaking Harry's hand before patting the box. "I didn't think your team would have much use for everything we had, but when you sent the request I thought I should deliver it myself. Curiosity and all that."

Harry smiled.

"Well I certainly appreciate it." Figuring that a bit of information couldn't hurt, Harry decided to give his guest a bit to go on. "We executed a raid recently that made us think we have a shot at catching your thief. Those files might help."

Dupont wrapped his fingers on the top of the box.

"You understand most of these files are in French, yes?"

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. As if he wouldn't understand that fact before he made the request. Dupont was an old school Auror, Harry could tell that, so the man likely thought everyone was a fresh faced, untrained rookie.

Harry shrugged.

"Yeah, but Frank is fluent and Neville can read it well enough to transcribe anything that's relevant." Harry gestured towards Frank's desk where Neville sat talking with his father. "They're both on desk duty for now, so it'll give them something to do other than write everyone else's reports."

Dupont nodded.

"Very good, very good," he said, "well I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Knowing about the organized crime link should help," Harry divulged.

Dupont raised an eyebrow.

"Organized crime link? Is that new?"

Harry shook his head.

"Not that I'm aware," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I heard the papers had it on good authority that the Shadow was linked to organized crime years ago. Seems like it was pretty solid information."

Dupont frowned.

"Your source is clearly not thinking straight," the taller man said, "we never found any link to organized crime."

Harry cocked his head. Something tugged at the back of his mind from the Frenchman's words, but was quickly replaced by irritation.

"Are you sure they looked into the correct groups?"

"Are you suggesting my team didn't do their job, Mr. Potter?" Dupont said, though it came out in more of a growl.

Before Harry could reply and tell the man that perhaps his team wasn't as skilled as he thought, James came rushing around the corner. He spotted Harry and quickly made his way over, nodding at Dupont as he stopped in front of them.

"Dupont," James said before turning to Harry, "sorry to break this up but I need you to come to the Department of Mysteries with me. Croaker needs help with something rather urgently."

Harry nodded.

"Very well." He looked up at Dupont and nodded. "Dupont, I'm sure you can find your way out."

He started to follow James when his dad nodded towards his desk.

"Grab your field robes," he instructed, "I've got something else for you to do after."

As they moved towards the lift Harry ran a hand through his hair.

"What's the job?"

He clapped Harry on the back and smiled.

"Despite evidence to the contrary, we do have other cases here, Auror Potter. Need you to go check something out."

Harry sighed.

"The Apothecary in Manchester?" he guessed as James closed the lift.

"How'd you know?" his father asked.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Because you can't stand talking to the woman who runs the place and you only ever ask me to handle something directly when she wants you to stop in."

"She gives me the creeps!" James exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "She gives me this look that makes my skin crawl."

"She's trying to flirt with you, dad."

James scrunched up his nose.

"She knows I'm married!"

Harry laughed.

"That's half the fun for some people," he teased, "clearly she's into married men. You should see where it leads."

James glared at him as the lift stopped.

"Never. I love your mother too much."

"And…" Harry goaded.

"And she's incredibly scary when she's angry," replied James as they started into the maze that was the Department of Mysteries. "Don't tell her I said that. I have a reputation to uphold."

"My lips are sealed."

.

.

Fleur stepped out of the lift and into the department, smiling as she saw Frank and Neville Longbottom in the far corner, each with a stack of papers in front of them. There was a large box on the desk with French writing on it, though she couldn't quite make out all the words from where she was. Idly she wondered if Harry had asked the French Ministry for files on the Shadow. It would, at the very least, lead them a bit further from finding anything about her. She made sure Auror Dupont and his team knew nothing of substance.

"Harry's not here," a voice to her left called.

She looked over as a tall, raven-haired man walked over to her. She smiled. He was a spitting image of Harry, a little older, but undeniably it was James Potter.

"He's running down a lead on something at the moment," James continued.

Fleur frowned and couldn't stop the disappointment that crept into her thoughts. Most of their time together lately had been almost business-like, the work on the spell being far more complex than she'd have liked. It was necessary, she knew, but she'd come to the Ministry today to see if Harry wanted to go into muggle London and have dinner. They could leave all the talk of raids and thieves behind, instead focusing on just having a good time.

"Thank you," she replied with a smile as she turned to leave.

"You can wait for him if you want," James said, stopping her. She turned back to him with a questioning look. "He should be back pretty soon."

"If it's not too much trouble?" she asked.

James shook his head.

"None at all," he said, motioning for her to follow him. "Come on, you can wait in my office."

She followed him towards the back of the room, smiling at Neville when he looked up and sent her a wave. They reached the office and stepped in, James moving to the other side of the desk and sitting down with a sigh. She took the seat near her and smiled.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter."

James' eyes went wide and she laughed at his expression.

"You, ah, know who I am?"

Fleur nodded.

"Of course. It's a bit difficult to mistake who you are. Harry is a spitting image of you." She laughed again. "Also, your name is on the door."

James laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. It was so reminiscent of Harry when he was embarrassed that she wondered how often the two of them were mistaken for each other. From what she knew of James, she was sure they had made a game of confusing people.

"Right, that's true. This must be what they call a 'senior moment.' Sirius would never let me live this down if he found out." He looked at her. "Can I count on your silence, Ms. Delacour?"

"Someone's done their homework," she replied.

"My name is on the door," he reminded her with a smirk. "Besides, Harry keeps going on about you so I had a pretty good idea of what you looked like before seeing you today. Not like he gets many other pretty visitors either."

"I find that difficult to believe."

James raised an eyebrow.

"Why's that?"

"Because…" she started before stopping, thinking about her next words carefully. "Because Harry has a warmth about him. It's infectious, but in a good way. I don't believe for a second that he gets no visitors, pretty or otherwise."

"My son is many things, Ms. Delacour-"

"Fleur," she corrected.

He inclined his head.

"...Fleur, but a ladies man is not one of them. He's dated, but he's not exactly his godfather." James scratched his head. "Maybe I should be thankful for that. Just to be safe, let's not tell Lily about that one either, yeah?"

Fleur smiled and nodded.

"Your secrets are safe, though I may have to start charging you."

James raised an eyebrow. "What's your price?"

"Information," she said, adopting a serious look.

"Oh? Regarding what?"

"Harry," she clarified.

James' eyes lit up.

"Oh, you want embarrassing stories to use as leverage? You've come to the right source."

Fleur smiled but shook her head.

"Not anything embarrassing, but rather…" she looked up at James. "Harry is modest, almost to a fault. He never talks about his own accomplishments, or when he does, he gives credit to the team. So I guess what I want to know is, what does everyone think of him?"

James leaned back in his chair with a smile and Fleur could see the pride on his face as the man thought about his son.

"Honestly," he started, "Harry's the best Auror I've ever worked with, and that's not just fatherly pride talking. It helps that he loves the work."

"He does seem rather fond of his job," she said.

"As he should be. Harry's worked hard to get where he is today, and he does it because he wants to help people."

She smiled as James spoke about Harry's training and early years as an Auror, things she'd heard from Harry but never in such detail or from an outside perspective. He'd put in so much effort to step out of the long shadow of his father, to make everyone see that he was his own man, that he'd managed to make a name for himself. A reputation separate from James.

That he remained so humble was sweet.

"And he always helps those that mean something to him," James finished as he looked back at Fleur. "Harry's never had a large circle of those he trusts, it comes with the territory, but when you're in that circle? He'll do anything for you."

The sensation of being kicked in the stomach hit her hard and fast, followed swiftly by an increase in her heartbeat. James' words burned hot, starting in her stomach before settling in her chest, making it feel as if she would soon lose her breath. She'd felt this before, though it had been more intense then. She'd felt it the day Gabby was killed.

Guilt.

The guilt she'd so easily set aside to deceive him. The guilt she'd convinced herself was unwarranted, unjustified. It was a convenient lie to let herself sleep at night, knowing full well she was taking advantage of the near limitless kindness of someone she'd come to care deeply for.

She'd almost come clean the day he'd stopped by the bank to learn the spell. Broken down and told him everything. That it was her under the hood. Yet she'd hesitated and, when she'd seen his Auror robes, decided to keep quiet. She was a criminal, a thief, and he was an officer of the law. More than that, she'd attacked him, twice, both of which were enough for him to arrest her. She was wanted in France, and he'd be duty-bound to turn her over to the French Ministry, if nothing else.

Every fiber of her being believed he would agree with her quest, but she couldn't let him take her out of it. Even if he put her away and picked up the torch, the Ministry wouldn't work quickly enough for her liking.

"Anything?" she asked, breaking out of her reverie, though her voice cracked.

James nodded and smiled a warm smile.

"Anything. Harry's always been a kind soul, and his desire to make everyone around him happy is one of the reasons he's so good at his job."

The words cut her again. Her carefully crafted mask nearly slipped before she caught it, but it was cracked, and she wasn't sure she could repair it.

She didn't want to hurt Harry, but she couldn't think of any other way to get what she needed. Justice for her sister was necessary, if not for Gabby then for Luc.

She'd help Harry catch this Lord Riddle, the one he'd said was tied to the Shadow. She'd help him do that, gather the information she needed, then retire the Shadow forever. It was only right for her to help him, as he was helping her without knowing it.

"You should come over for dinner some time," James said, breaking Fleur out of her musings.

"I'm sorry, what?"

James smiled.

"Harry, Lily, and I have dinner one night a week. You should join us. I'm sure Lily would love to meet you," he explained with a small waggle of his eyebrows.

Fleur blushed lightly and looked down. She'd technically met Lily already, though a floo call was hardly what you'd call a proper meeting. What James was suggesting was essentially the next step in her relationship with Harry. She hadn't had an actual relationship in years, and Harry was good for her in a way she hadn't expected him to be.

For the first time in forever, Fleur Delacour was nervous about a relationship. She nearly laughed at the thought.

"Come on," James goaded, "it'll be fun, I promise. I'll even tell you about that time when Harry was training with Moody and he tried to chase down a suspect. Tripped over his own-"

"Old man, if you finish that sentence the only piece of you they'll find is your finger."

Fleur turned around to see Harry leaning against the frame of the door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at his father. She smiled and could tell there was no actual anger in the look.

"Come on, son," James said with a shake of his head, "you don't want her to know if you wear boxers or briefs?"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Oh wait, she probably already knows that," James said to himself, smirking up at Harry. "You're welcome for teaching you everything you know."

"You didn't teach me everything," Harry shot back. "You and Sirius aren't nearly as talented as you think you are."

James gasped.

"My own son," he said before looking back at Fleur. "Can you believe the cheek on this kid?"

"I completely rewrote the standard formations handbook that they teach today," Harry said. "And I'm still a better duelist than you."

"Keep dreaming Auror Potter," said James as he leaned back in his chair.

Fleur stood and turned back towards Harry, balancing on the balls of her feet to kiss him on the cheek. She half turned back towards James with a thoughtful expression.

"Mr. Potter, I'd like to inform you that I can believe the cheek on him. It's a lovely cheek."

James waved dismissively.

"Yeah, yeah, very funny. We've already got one comedy duo and the stage name is Padfoot and Prongs. No room for another act." He made a shooing motion with his hands. "Now shoo, go get dinner and whatever it is you kids get up to after dinner these days."

Harry groaned as they turned to leave.

"Dinner at the house soon though!" James called to them as they walked away.

When they made it to the lift Harry looked down at her.

"He invited you to dinner?"

She nodded.

"Would you like to have dinner with my parents in the next few weeks? It's completely fine if you don't want to," he said.

She dismissed the idea.

"No, I don't mind. I think it would be fun." She linked their arms and smiled up at him. "Your parents seem like good people, Harry. I'd love to get to know them better."

Harry laughed as they stepped into the lift.

"Very well, I'll set it up. Don't say I didn't warn you though."

She raised an eyebrow and he shrugged.

"There is a non-zero chance the dinner ends in disaster, but I guess there's only one way to find out?"

.

.

With a sigh he sat down in a chair just off the lobby of the bank. It had been two weeks since his dad had invited Fleur for dinner and he'd been told, in no uncertain terms, to bring Fleur this evening or not show up at all. He'd arrived at the bank early, wanting to ensure Fleur hadn't been caught up in anything unexpected, lest he have to find food on his own tonight. He was quite looking forward to eating his parents' chicken tikka masala. It was one of his favorites.

The sign on the door to the curse breaking department had told him to wait for her in the lobby. That she was finishing up a dangerous artifact.

So he waited, mentally preparing himself for the gauntlet his mum would no doubt put them through. His father he could handle. He'd heard just as many embarrassing stories from Sirius as James had in his repertoire, so a gentle reminder about something that happened when the Marauders were at Hogwarts was usually enough. Lily Potter, however, was an altogether different story, and one he had no defense against.

"I finally got approved for that transfer!" he overheard someone say.

Looking over, he saw two employees standing near the door. Idly, he wondered if the number of human employees outnumbered goblin ones if you took all the bank branches and combined them.

"Really? That's wonderful!" the other one said.

"Yeah, the branch in France is really hurting for qualified people, especially in the research and curse breaking divisions. They're desperate. They didn't even ask me if I knew French! Said it wasn't necessary."

"Wow, that's shocking."

Something nagged at the back of his mind, but before he could pull at it, footsteps echoed on the marble floor. He looked up as they grew louder and a dumbfounded look spread across his face as Fleur approached. She was wearing muggle clothes, a light blue blouse and black skirt with matching loafers. Her hair was done up in a basic, but neat bun, a far cry from the normal messy bun he'd seen her wear while working. She looked fantastic, like she'd stepped right out of one of those big buildings in London, and he couldn't stop himself from staring.

She smirked as she stopped in front of him. Casually she leaned forward and, with a gentle touch, pushed his jaw up, closing his mouth.

"See something you like?" she teased.

All he could do was nod.

She laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling him up and kissing him lightly.

"Well stop staring, it's rude."

Finally he recovered, shaking his head slightly before smiling at her.

"You didn't have to dress up for my parents," he said, "it's not a big formal event. Just dinner."

She shrugged.

"We had to go to muggle London today to retrieve a piece that somehow ended up there. I thought I looked nice and figured you might enjoy the effort." She winked at him. "I think I can say I was correct in that assumption."

"Very much so," he said with a nod as he held the door out of the bank open for her. "Are you ready to meet the parents?"

She rolled her eyes as they made their way to the apparition point, navigating through the people still milling about the Alley.

"I've met them both before, don't be dramatic."

Harry wagged a finger as he spun around to face her.

"You think that, but James and Lily Potter are vastly different people when they get you alone. I wish you the best of luck."

She raised an eyebrow as she intertwined their arms.

"Do your parents know that you talk about them like they're going to eat me alive?"

Without a word Harry popped them away, landing just outside his childhood home in Godric's Hollow. He released her and walked over to the bed of flowers, touching one of the roses before frowning.

"I'll have to ask Neville what I'm doing wrong here," he muttered absentmindedly.

He felt Fleur slide up next to him, peering down at the roses in front of them.

"They're beautiful," she said, but Harry shook his head.

"They're not supposed to be red."

"What color are they supposed to be?" she asked.

Harry flicked his wrist and his wand appeared in his hand. He ran through several basic gardening spells that his partner had taught him, most to check the health of the soil and roots of the plants themselves. Satisfied, he nodded and flicked his wrist again, his wand returning to his holster.

"They're supposed to change color," he explained, rubbing his fingers along another one of the red roses. "The seeds had been enchanted to bloom as one color but change regularly. A neat bit of magic, one that Neville said isn't all that easy, so I wanted to try it out. No space for a garden in my own flat, so my parents offered to let me experiment here."

She smiled at him.

"Didn't realize you were so good with plants."

He shrugged.

"I'm not. Not really anyway, but it keeps the front of the house looking nice while my parents are busy." He shot a dirty look across the street. "And the old man who lives across the street thinks his garden is aces. Bah, what a joke. I'm going to prove him wrong."

Fleur giggled at his outburst, causing him to laugh as well. Elphias Doge was an old friend of Albus Dumbledore and had lived across the street from the Potters as long as Harry could remember. He was a nice man, always warm and kind, but he had a competitive streak in him that ran deeper than his uncle Moony's obsession with proper penmanship. When he'd lamented the state of the Potter garden, with its basic arrangement of flowers and shrubbery, Harry had taken it personally.

His parents had laughed at him.

"So what's the diagnosis?" asked Fleur.

"Something with the soil, as far as I can tell," replied Harry, gesturing for her to follow him as they made their way towards the front door. He opened the door and held it open for her. "Neville said there could be some issues. I'll bring him a sample tomorrow and he can help me figure out what to do next."

They moved through the entrance and towards the kitchen, Harry pushing the door open and peaked inside. He frowned. There was food on the stove but nobody was around. That was odd.

"Mum? Dad?" he called.

"In here, Harry," he heard from the sitting room. They passed the kitchen table, which he noticed was not set, just a bottle of wine and two glasses upon its surface, and into the sitting room. There they found Lily with her head in the fire.

"I'll be there in a moment, Albus, keep your hat on," she scolded, "I know it's an emergency. Let me tell my son and his girlfriend goodbye and I'll be right through."

She leaned back and stood up, turning towards them with a disappointed smile.

"What's going on?" Harry asked as she hugged him.

"Albus called an emergency meeting. There was an incident involving multiple students this evening, some from my house," explained Lily with a frown. "I'll need to go back."

She turned towards Fleur and smiled, pulling the blonde into a hug before stepping back.

"Fleur, it's nice to meet you in person."

"You as well, Mrs. Potter," Fleur replied, causing Lily to wave her hand.

"None of that. It's just Lily." She frowned again. "I wish I could stay longer but I've got to get back. The food just finished and your father grabbed a nice bottle of wine from the cellar, so please eat."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Where is dad?" he asked, looking around.

Lily motioned towards the fire.

"The Minister called him back for something. He didn't tell me what but it sounded urgent."

She grabbed a bit of powder and tossed it into the fire, calling out the Hogwarts headmasters office before stepping in. With a flash of green light she was gone. Fleur looked back over at him.

"You get the wine and I'll get the food?" he suggested.

"Lead the way," she said with a nod.

He passed by the table and back into the kitchen, opening the cabinet to retrieve two plates. Despite how much he had joked about his parents, he really was disappointed that their plans had fallen through. He'd been secretly looking forward to them finally meeting Fleur officially, outside of business or the confines of the Ministry. He knew they would get along well, and somehow more importantly, he was happy that his parents seemed to already approve of her.

He shook his head. They'd have a great evening regardless, of that he was sure.

"How was your day?" he called as he moved towards the stove, "Anything exciting happened?"

Fleur laughed and he heard the distinct sound of a wine bottle opening. As he reached the drawer with the silverware, the nagging in the back of his mind returned. The one he'd briefly felt at the bank. It was the same feeling he got while investigating a tough case, but why was he feeling it now?

"Oh yes, it was quite an eventful day," Fleur said from the table. "That artifact we recovered? It had the nastiest curse on it."

As he pulled two forks out of the drawer he paused, spotting the Daily Prophet on the counter, the headline catching his eye.

A SHADOW OVER BRITAIN?

"So we brought it back to the bank and my coworker, Romilda Vane, was helping me with it," Fleur continued. "It was a beautiful ivory comb."

He placed a bit of rice onto each plate and spooned some chicken tikka masala onto each as he let his mind wander where it wanted. Moody had drilled into them during training that, sometimes, the best way to figure out what your instincts were saying was to let them take control. He let out a long breath, picking up the plates and letting his thoughts flow freely.

"Anyway, so we're looking at the comb," Fleur continued, smiling as he placed the plate in front of her. He took the seat opposite her, smiling and nodding for her to continue. "It reeks of dark magic. Honestly, we don't know how anyone couldn't spot it before. We got conflicting stories about it, but at least we recovered it."

Something clicked in his mind. As he took a bite of food, his thoughts turned back to the bank and the conversation he overheard.

"Yeah, the branch in France is really hurting for qualified people, especially in the research and curse breaking divisions. They're desperate. They didn't even ask me if I knew French! Said it wasn't necessary."

His veins felt like ice and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he looked over at Fleur.

"We determine that the curse originated in the 18th century," she said as she finished a bite, waving her free hand animatedly. "Relatively young for a curse, so it shouldn't be all that tough to crack, right?"

Again his mind wandered back to the bank, Fleur's smiling face in the curse breaking department filling his thoughts.

"If my memory isn't wrong, it seemed as if all the major papers at the time had credible information that the Shadow was connected to organized crime in France, specifically La Société pour l'amélioration de la France."

The scene shifted to the Ministry and her form faded, replaced by Auror Dupont. His heartbeat quickened.

"Your source is clearly not thinking straight," the taller man said, "we never found any link to organized crime."

Like a quaffle being tossed between two Chasers, the image in his mind shifted once more back to the bank, and it's Fleur's voice that filled his head.

"Perhaps the Shadow isn't here permanently? Perhaps she's just stopping by?"

His eyes nearly widened in shock, but he controlled himself as he looked over at Fleur, still chatting away about her experience with the cursed comb.

He'd never told her the Shadow was a woman.

"We break the curse and the thing falls to the workbench," Fleur says with a smile, humour laced in her words. Harry took another bite and nodded his head, thoughts still racing. "Romilda picks it up and everything seems fine. The comb is in amazing condition, and it's incredibly beautiful, so she decides to run it through her hair."

Images flash in his mind as his shoulders tensed, tighter and tighter with each memory.

Long glances at the work on his desk. Twice in one visit she looks down at the half-covered map.

"Immediately, warts start forming all over the back of her neck," Fleur said with a laugh, taking another sip of wine.

Passing by Knockturn Alley, idle curiosity leading to probing questions.

"She completely freaked out and had her first bout of accidental magic since she was four! I spent the next ten minutes trying to calm her down so I could perform the countercurse on her."

A break-in with nothing taken. Wards not triggered.

"I had to physically restrain her from blowing the comb up after the warts went away," Fleur laughed. "We had a good laugh about it after, but she did not handle that well."

A thief, incredibly talented in charms with an affinity for fire. Fighting with him. Flirting. Matching him in wits and creativity.

His mind halted and his training kicked in. He took two deep breaths. He had to be mistaken. There was no way she was involved, she couldn't be. Fleur wasn't someone who would manipulate or get involved in matters like this, that just wasn't who she was.

He was certain…but he had to make sure.

"Well it seems like you're fitting in at Gringotts quite nicely," Harry said. He tried to keep his tone pleasant, but it came out low, almost vacant.

"Yes, well, the work is compelling and the locals are great for a good time," she started to say, already adopting a teasing, flirtatious tone, but he interrupted before she could get it out fully.

"Why did you transfer to London, anyway? Why not Paris?"

Fleur looked at him oddly, blinking as her brow furrowed. He looked down as he braced for her answer, his instincts telling him he already knew what she would say.

"There were no openings," she explained, and he felt his heart drop. "The Paris branch is quite sought after, but I'm sure I've told you thi-"

"You know," he cut in rudely as he started to pack away his emotions, just as he'd been taught. There was no room to get emotional when dealing with a suspect. "You should have gone with 'France has too many memories.'"

He continued to look down at his plate, pushing around chicken with his fork as the last of his emotions went into the box he'd prepared.

"Less room for contradictions."

He looked up at her with a harsh eye. He couldn't be Harry Potter the boyfriend. That had blinded him. Dulled his natural instincts. Made him ignore obvious signs. For now he had to be Auror Potter.

"One of your coworkers is transfering to Paris, did you know? Apparently they're so strapped for curse breakers they'll even take a Brit, pas de français nécessaire."

The words hung in the air like a condemnation as they stared at each other from across the table. A myriad of emotions played across her face. Shock, anger, guilt, fear, they were all present. Eventually she settled on one: determination. They both knew what he was insinuating, so he opened his mouth and spoke the lingering question aloud.

"Are you the Shadow?"

The air was thick with tension as neither moved, neither blinked, and he desperately wanted her to laugh off his question. To have a reasonable explanation for lying to him. For feeding him false information. For her seemingly benign curiosities.

She stood quickly but he was faster. His wand was in his hand, outstretched, pointing at her before he could even think. They both continued to stare at each other. She held her arms wide and low but she'd managed to draw her wand. Her body language said she wasn't a threat, but he wouldn't let himself be fooled by that.

"Harry, please, just put your wand down," she said, voice filled with emotion.

"Answer me," he demanded.

She let out a long breath as she closed her eyes and a look of anguish passed through her face. A younger, less experienced Auror would have lowered their wand at the sight. Let their guard down in an effort to understand, but he wasn't a younger Auror.

She opened her eyes and looked at him as tears dropped from her eyes.

"Yes," she whispered.

Immediately he fired, the red light of a stunner erupting from his wand without warning, but she was quick. It impacted the wall behind where she'd previously been. The two plates rose and launched themselves at him. He shattered the first as the second clipped him in the shoulder. As he spun, he used the momentum to his advantage and let it carry him into a roll, popping back up, sending a barrage of spells in her direction.

Once again she was fast, chairs and picture frames carrying themselves into the way of his spells. She was backing into the sitting room, so he slammed his wand downward in a circular motion. As the tip touched the ground the kitchen table broke into several pieces. In one fluid motion he launched one of the pieces at her, sending her tumbling back into the sitting room. He flicked his wand at the largest piece of table and it sprang upright on its side, allowing him to crouch behind it to catch his breath.

"Harry, please, let's talk about this," she said, though her breathing was labored. He peaked out from behind the table and saw her crouching behind one of the large chairs as she held her side.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I need you to understand," she replied, "I need you to hear why."

The Auror in him didn't care what she had to say. Didn't want to listen to her. His job was to capture her and bring her in. Let the lawyers and Wizengamot decide her fate. But the box where he'd stored his emotions, he realized, had never fully closed, and he desperately wanted to know. Needed to know.

With a swish and flick of his wand he levitated the other chair in the sitting room before sending it quickly in her direction. She reacted swiftly, redirecting and crashing it into the front door.

"My sister didn't die," Fleur said, "she was murdered."

He lowered his wand at her words. Murdered? He looked over and could see her slumped over behind the chair.

"Murdered by who?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out, though I think it might be that Riddle person," she replied. "I unknowingly stole from the wrong person and they murdered my sister to send a message when I didn't return it. They killed her in broad daylight, Harry. They're connected to your case."

Several pieces of the broken chair rushed at him and he was able to cover himself with one of the other pieces of table just as they reached him. Without a second thought he launched it back towards her before taking cover behind his barrier. He heard the sound of breaking glass.

"So, what?" he asked, hurt laced in his words. "Thought you'd get a little revenge, using whoever you needed to further your goals until you got what you wanted?"

"It wasn't revenge. It's never been revenge," she defended, and he could hear the tears in her voice. There was a layer of barely-contained anguish underneath as well.

His chest ached and his head pounded. He wanted to scream, to lash out in anger, but he didn't have it in him. His heart felt hollow as he thought of their relationship, questioning all of their time together. He thought back to the ice cream shop, their little song and dance played with Florean each time. How they laughed and looked at each other with knowing smiles.

"Was any of it real? Or was I just a mark and a convenient shag?" he asked in a strained voice. "Did I ever really mean anything to you?"

"Yes!" yelled Fleur. "Harry, if you believe nothing else, believe that what has gone on between us has meant more to me than you could ever know."

"Liar," he hissed.

He heard a single sob come from the sitting room before the kitchen burst into motion. Looking back he saw all the forks, spoons, and knives violently ejected from the drawer, Tikka masala flying everywhere as they rose into the air. For half an instant they hung there before turning towards him and launching themselves forward.

He twisted, sending the two remaining pieces of table towards them, taking out a large portion, before his bright white shield appeared from the tip of his wand. Several knives got through, cutting his arm and side before he pushed more magic into the shield, strengthening and increasing its size.

As the last of the silverware clattered harmlessly to the ground he let go of the shield and turned around, only to find the sitting room empty. The front door was open, still moving from being opened forcefully. He dropped to his knees as exhaustion set in, though not from using his magic. It was a different kind of exhaustion, one he was unfamiliar with.

Was this what heartbreak felt like? Had none of his previous relationships been as important to him as this one?

He looked around and laughed softly at the chaos.

"We sure made a mess, didn't we?"

He spoke the question to himself, just so that he could hear something. The overwhelming, almost suffocating quiet of the house made him feel uneasy. He sighed before standing up and began to fix the damage, though he doubted he'd get it perfect. His dad would eventually notice something out of place, that something was different, but he couldn't find it in him to care at the moment.

He returned all the silverware to the drawer. Vanished the spilled food. Repaired the broken chairs and tables. The window in the sitting room was slightly more difficult, glass was always more of a challenge for him, but after a few false starts it was back to its old condition. The two plates they'd eaten on were far too damaged to be repaired, so he simply vanished their broken pieces. He took one last walk around the house before deciding it was good enough.

He stopped in front of the fire and sighed. He was tired and wanted to sleep, but he knew that wouldn't happen. He set his jaw as he clenched his fists. No, he was going to find her tonight, no putting it off. He grabbed some floo powder, miraculously unharmed in the melee, before tossing it into the burning fire. As he stepped out into the Ministry atrium he picked up speed.

He knew where he'd find her, it was the only logical place for her to be. She'd seek out a place of comfort or one of pain. One that would remind her of why she kept fighting, why she couldn't stop. Why she'd deceived him.

He made it to the Auror office with little fuss, it was late and there were very few people milling about. Luckily, nobody was around to try and greet him. He sent a silent thank you to the Minister for holding that emergency meeting somewhere else.

He opened the door to James' office and made for the fireplace. It was one of two international floo locations in the Ministry, though Harry had little doubt there were more in the Department of Mysteries. He stepped out of the floo and into the French Auror office. Again, nobody greeted him, a fact he was grateful for.

The French Ministry had designed outbound Apparition points in their atrium, far more convenient than the British office and their policy of no apparition within the walls at all. He stepped into one of the apparition circles and popped away.

He landed with a soft crunch of the grass beneath his feet. He got his bearings for a moment and began walking. It was dark but the moon provided ample illumination, further enhanced by the lights every few rows. He continued to walk for several more minutes until he spotted her.

He could see her shaking shoulders as she kneeled and the second soft sob he'd heard that night escaped her lips. He felt bad, invading her private moment, but he couldn't let things stand the way they were. He was angry, furious even, but somewhere between fixing his parents home and apparating away he'd realized something else.

He wanted to know if she was okay.

She stiffened as he approached.

"How did you find me?" she asked, turning her head so he could see her tear-stained cheeks.

He stopped several feet from her, making no move to go for his wand. He wasn't here to fight, not again. Not now. Not in this place.

"I did some looking, when you told me she died," he admitted. "Not because I suspected anything, but because I wanted to know more about her. All the papers had was a death announcement and where she would be buried. I figured this would be the most likely place you'd go."

Fleur laughed softly behind her tears.

"I come here sometimes. When I'm lost."

Slowly he moved closer and when he was sure she wouldn't run, closed the distance between them. He sat down in the soft grass next to her and looked at the gravestone with the name Gabrielle Delacour carved into it.

"How do you find your way back?" he asked.

She gestured at the gravestone.

"I ask Gabby what to do."

A stilted silence settled between them and he didn't press further, just kept looking forward, allowing her the time she needed to gather her thoughts. She had more to say, he could sense that much, but he also knew she would say them in her own time. He was an uninvited guest in a spot she held dear to her. The least he could do was give her time. Regardless, he was too drained to muster much else.

"I was so lost after the explosion," Fleur said after several minutes. "I got pulled out of the wreckage by a dear friend who gave me purpose, but it was difficult. So, so difficult. Some days I would wake up and just lay in bed for hours, because my sister was gone, taken from me and it was all my fault. In the beginning, I was the Shadow because it was fun. The thrill of stealing from people who'd likely stolen things themselves was a rush unlike any others."

She looked at him as the tears continued to fall.

"Then I stole from the wrong person and they took their payment in blood. They stole from me tenfold." She wiped her face with her hand, trying desperately to stop the tears. "The Shadow changed. It was no longer fun. It was work, a job to find and bring to justice the person responsible for my sister's murder. We pulled off a string of break-ins that eventually led us to Britain."

She looked up at him.

"And then I met you and everything changed."

"Me?" His heart ached, desperately wanting to hear the words, knowing he shouldn't trust them, as sure as he knew he would. For better or worse. "What did I do?"

She smiled, though it wasn't the full, room-brightening smile he was used to. It was sad, containing a loneliness he'd never, ever seen her express before.

"By the night of the Malfoy party I was tired of being the Shadow. I told the French Ministry they didn't have to worry about me anymore and made my way to another country. The night you caught me was the first time I'd ever been seen and it…rekindled something within me. As cliche as it may sound, it sparked the magic I'd felt years before when operating as the Shadow. The connection I felt with you that night changed how I viewed the world. Breaking into your flat, leaving you the scarf, it was a risk I took because you had brought me back from the edge."

Mentally he winced at the memory of that night. His flat had been messy, dirty laundry on the floor and a pile of dishes in the sink. Idly, he realized his girlfriend had seen his flat before she was his girlfriend. A blush of embarrassment washed over his cheeks, thankfully not enough to be noticed by moonlight.

She blew out a long breath and looked back at the gravestone, chewing her bottom lip slightly.

"Then I met the real you. As we grew closer, saw more of each other, I started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, I would have an idea of what a normal life was like when I finally put away the Shadow for good. Once I'd finally brought my sister's killer to justice. I didn't think I'd hurt you and me in the process."

"Hurt yourself?" Harry asked.

She nodded, pointing at Gabby's gravestone.

"I realized it tonight. Gabby told me. I knew the moment I decided to start lying to you, trying to throw you off my trail, that I'd broken your trust. That you'd probably never forgive me, and I'd accepted that. What I didn't know, however, was that it would hurt me just as much because I think I've started to fall in love with you."

Harry's eyes opened wide at her words, and the stabbing pain in his chest lessened some. He didn't know where they'd go from here, if he were honest with himself. Their relationship was damaged. Damaged by lies and half truths, some greater, some lesser, but it didn't feel broken. He had expected to come here feeling nothing for her. He intended to tell her to leave Britain and never return, but he couldn't stop the butterflies in his stomach as he replayed her words over in his head.

Perhaps there was a way forward after all.

"Would you have given what you stole back to them?" he asked. She looked up at him, wiping her tears away once more. "The person you stole from. The one responsible for killing Gabby. Would you have given it back to them?"

She nodded.

"When they asked for it back, I wasn't aware of how far they were willing to go. Had I known, I'd have given them everything I'd ever stolen and offered to steal anything they wanted if it meant my sister was still alive."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him.

She'd made mistakes in her life, learned a hard lesson in consequences, and had lived with guilt for such a long time that he was surprised she was so composed. That she could even go on without it completely consuming her. Yet, she hadn't let it consume her, which spoke to the strength of her character. More importantly, it made him realize that she was still lost. Maybe she never truly left the wreckage of the explosion that killed her sister, but he couldn't turn away when he had it in his power to help her get past it.

"Then I'll help you find them," he said.

She leaned away from him, eyes wide.

"What?"

"I said I'll help you find them," he repeated. "I'll help you find them and bring them to justice."

"But why?" she questioned. "I lied to you, Harry. I tried to tamper with your investigation. I could have gotten your team killed at the Nott manor!"

"And the deception hurt," he admitted. "It still hurts."

"Then why?"

He smiled.

"Because I help those I care about," he said with a reassuring look, "and it seems like you could use some help. Despite the destruction we caused tonight, I still care for you Fleur. I wanted to hate you, to tell you to get lost, but I can't and I won't. It would be so easy to turn away, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did. And I realize now that maybe…maybe I can help you and be Auror Potter at the same time. Maybe the two don't have to be mutually exclusive."

She cupped his cheek as a fresh round of tears fell from her eyes, but her deep azure pools told him they were happy tears. She leaned in and kissed him softly. There was a tenderness to the act, one that hadn't been there before, as if their relationship had deepened in a way that was completely unexpected yet exactly what they both needed. He kissed her back before pulling back slowly.

"Not that snogging and the potential for a makeup shag isn't appealing," he said teasingly, "I don't think in front of your sister's grave is the right location for that."

She laughed as she settled back next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. There was no tension in the air, no electric charge of emotion that had permeated their fight. Instead, it was calm, natural, as if this was where they should have been the whole time. He looked back over to the gravestone.

"Tell me about her," he said softly.

He could hear the smile on her face as she started talking.

"Gabby was life incarnate. She was bright, and upbeat, with a mischievous streak longer than a quidditch pitch. I think you two would have gotten along splendidly…"

Chapter Text

They appeared in his flat with a small pop. They'd sat in the graveyard for quite some time as Fleur told him story after story about Gabby. Some happy, some sad, and some downright unbelievable. She'd cried, though for the first time in years, the tears were not weighed down by some unseen force. It had been a form of therapy she hadn't even realized she'd needed until the words were falling from her lips.

The guilt was still there, but it seemed lessened by the way Harry listened, never interrupting, just allowing her to speak.

She quickly moved to the kitchen and grabbed two glasses. She reached under the counter and pulled out a bottle of scotch before pouring a bit into each glass. She returned to Harry and handed him one, knocking the other against his before downing it in one gulp. She moved to the sofa and poured herself another before looking up at him.

"Ask away," she said, waving her glass in front of her.

He downed his own glass quickly before settling next to her. She poured him a refill and waited. She owed him whatever answers he wanted, regardless of his reaction to those answers. He'd told her that he wanted to help her, but she was unsure if he would still hold that same conviction after the emotions of the night wore off.

"Why did you start stealing?" he asked.

"Because I wanted to right the wrongs I saw."

He didn't react at first, just looked down at her with a questioning gaze. After a long moment he downed his second glass.

"Break that one down for me," he finally said.

She shrugged.

"After Beauxbatons, I needed a way to support myself while getting my mastery. Eventually, I was able to get a spot with the curse breakers in Egypt, working with Bill. The work was fine, even exciting, but I craved more." She sipped on her glass, trying to gather her thoughts. "I got my first week off a few months after starting. We'd just finished a tough dig and everyone was exhausted, so we took a break."

She placed her glass on the table next to the couch.

"I went back to France, but Gabby wasn't back from school, so I had the whole of Paris to myself. I read about a beautiful piece of jewelry being sold by a rather awful person and I recognized it as a very old piece that had been stolen from a matching set in Egypt. A set I'd personally broken the curse on. The theft was never reported because, presumably, the goblins would never admit their security was breached, but I had seen the set. It was a match, and it wasn't supposed to be owned by anyone."

She looked out of the window at the night sky, letting her mind wander back to that period in her life when everything was much simpler. When everything wasn't so life-and-death.

"I went to the property and their wards were interesting. So I tested them for a couple days before breaking in and stealing it." She looked over at Harry with a small smile. "It was one of the few times I nearly got caught."

He raised an eyebrow.

"So it was always about taking back things others had stolen themselves?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"The first few times, yes, but by the time the papers connected the thefts and gave me the nickname? By that time I was just doing it for the thrill." She frowned. "At least, until I stole from the wrong person. I didn't even know who I was stealing from, but days later I got an owl with a very clear message. That I'd made a mistake, and they wanted it back. If I didn't return it, they would steal something from me in return. I ignored it, thinking they were bluffing. They could have turned me in, they clearly knew my identity, but they didn't so I believed they had something to hide as well."

She looked down but held back the tears that threatened to fall.

"The next time I was in France my sister was killed."

The heaviness floated in the air like a thick fog. She grabbed her glass and drank the remaining contents to settle her nerves. She let Harry's words play in her mind, his declaration to help her, and it kept the encroaching darkness at bay. She took a deep breath before letting out a long, slow exhale.

"After that, everything we did was in service of finding those responsible."

"We?" Harry asked.

She nodded.

"Luc, one of my oldest friends. He's been helping me since that day. He's here in Britain with me."

Harry downed the rest of his glass as some of the heaviness in the air dissipated. He hadn't said much, but she was taking that as a good sign. He yawned and she looked up at the time, eyes widening. It was well after midnight and he had work in the morning.

"I should go home and get some rest," Fleur said, as Harry took the glass from her and placed it on the table. "How about I make lunch and we can talk more tomorrow?"

He smiled as they stood up.

"I'd like that." He scratched the back of his head as he looked down at her. "Just one more question."

"Yes?"

"Who's the real you?" he asked.

The real her?

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Seems like there are two Fleur's here. One is the woman I've been getting to know, the other is an international criminal. Which one is closer to the real thing?"

His question made her pause. A grand total of three people knew both sides of her, and one had only found out hours ago, so she'd never been asked this particular question before. There was a lot of truth in his question, she would readily admit that. She'd split herself in two over the years, but they were separate people. Or at the very least, she tried to keep them separate. As time had gone by that line had blurred.

However, she still knew who she was at her core.

"Fleur Delacour loves charms, greatly enjoys her work, isn't very fond of most British food, and has a weakness for sweets," she said, but frowned as she finished. "She's also unsure of her future, but she sure would like to find out."

Harry smiled at her.

"I'd like to help her with that."

.

.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Harry watched Fleur as she paced her flat, chewing on her thumbnail as she muttered to herself. They'd talked after returning from France, well into the night hours. And then she'd made lunch for him the next day and they'd talked more. No more secrets, no more lies, it was all out on the table.

Now, almost a week later, she'd said it was time for him to meet Luc, the friend who'd been helping her along the way. He could tell when she suggested it that she was hesitant, but they both knew it was necessary to rebuild the trust between them.

"Fleur," he said as he continued to watch her, "will you stop pacing, please? You're making me nervous."

She shook her head and continued to pace, wringing her hands nervously.

"I just don't know how he's going to react," she admitted. "Luc's been very adamant about this being something the two of us had to do without bringing anyone else in."

Harry sighed and stood up, stepping in front of her and grabbing her shoulders. He held her in place, not letting her go when she tried to shrug him off, trying to get her to stand still for just a moment. She looked up at him and he smiled, attempting to put as much reassurance in the act as he could. Beneath his hands he felt her shoulders relax some.

"And now there's three of us," he said. "Three heads are better than two. Now, go get a glass of wine to calm down."

"But-"

"Go," he said firmly, moving aside and gripping her shoulders again, giving her a light push towards the small kitchen.

He heard her grab a glass and uncork a bottle when the fire flared green. A tall man stepped out and dusted himself off.

"Fleur, I'm here," he said as he patted his robes. "You said you had some…"

He trailed off as he locked eyes with Harry. He smiled, though Harry's eyes had gone wide with surprise.

"Luc, you're here," Fleur said from the kitchen, "Luc, this is Harry Potter. Harry, This is-"

"Luc Bennet?" Harry asked, half turning towards Fleur, the look of shock still on his face. "The Luc Bennet? That's who you've been working with?"

She nodded hesitantly as she looked towards Luc. The Frenchman sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Am I to assume you've told him everything?" Luc asked as he opened his eyes to look back at Fleur. She nodded.

He turned back towards Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"How is it that you know me, Mr. Potter?"

Harry smiled as he held out his hand, giving Luc's a firm shake.

"Mr. Bennet, your dismantling of that illegal creature trading ring is legendary over here," Harry explained. He couldn't keep the smile off his face. He'd wanted to meet Luc Bennet for a long time. "We completely revamped our protocols for inter-department cooperation between the DMLE and the Magical Creatures department based on your handling of it."

Harry turned back towards Fleur, still smiling. He nodded his head in Luc's direction.

"He was the youngest Auror ever in the French Ministry, did you know?"

She shook her head.

"Youngest Auror and then he hung it all up to play Quidditch." He turned back towards Luc and frowned, remembering the stories that had followed. "Shame about the injury though. You'd have made a fine Chaser, by all accounts. Your record at Beauxbatons indicated that much."

Luc smiled at Harry, a warm, friendly smile before shrugging.

"As much fun as it would have been to play professionally, the healers said my knee injury was just too severe for them to fully heal it properly. A single bludger to the knee in my first practice and it was all over."

He waved his hand dismissively. "But that's how it goes sometimes, no? C'est la vi!"

He leaned around Harry and looked at Fleur.

"You should have brought him in on this ages ago," he said before turning back to Harry.

Before either could speak the sound of breaking glass was heard. Harry turned to see Fleur glaring daggers at Luc, anger rolling off of her like lava from a volcano. The temperature in the room seemed to increase and Harry looked between the two, unsure of what was going on.

"Excuse me?" Fleur asked dangerously, never taking her eyes off of Luc. "What did you say?"

Luc shrugged.

"I'm saying you should have brought him in on this sooner."

"You…" Fleur said before letting out a frustrated groan and throwing her hands up. "After all the hell you gave me for getting close to him, now you're going to say I should have told him?"

Harry moved his head back and forth as he played the words over in his mind.

"From a tactical perspective," he chimed in, "not telling me was the right call."

Luc nodded sagely.

"Just to limit the potential for…slip ups," Harry continued. "It's generally ill-advised to get close to the person investigating the case unless you're an undercover operator."

Fleur glared at them both even harder.

"You are both…I….ugh!" she said, throwing her hands up again. "I need a stronger drink."

Harry turned back to Luc, the Frenchman shrugged his shoulders as if to say he didn't understand it any more than Harry did.

"So, how did you get involved with this?" Harry asked. "Fleur's connection is obvious, but what about you?"

A momentary flash of hurt passed through Luc's face. Had he not been trained, Harry would have never spotted it before the familiar mask of an Auror slammed into place, yet even that was tinged with sadness. Luc could try to hide behind his training, but his eyes held the smallest bit of sadness that made Harry frown.

"Gabby was my Fiance," Luc said softly as a faraway look entered his face. He sighed before sending a small smile to Harry. "We got engaged not too long before she was killed."

"Oh, Luc," Harry started, but Luc waved him off.

"It's okay, Harry," he said, "I've done all the grieving I can take for now. I'll do the rest once we catch the bastard who killed my bride-to-be."

He sat down in front of the fire and looked up at Harry.

"I assume you two have something in the works?"

Harry nodded and gave him a rundown of what they'd found. He was thankful that the other man didn't ask about how Fleur had come to bring him into the fold. Those memories were for he and Fleur alone, and he had no wish to relive them when they were quite so fresh and raw.

"Do you think your godfather will pull through?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, he will. Sirius has never gotten on with his family, but he's never let me down, so I'm confident he'll be able to convince Narcissa to have a conversation with him. Once he reminds her about the debt she owes me she'll set up the meeting."

Luc nodded.

"Good. I'll start doing research on Regulus and Rabastan's activities over the last few years. If this Lord Riddle thinks they're dirty then someone, somewhere, might know something. I'll see if I can't shake some information out of my contacts that might come in handy. It's better than sitting on my hands."

"Good idea," Harry said before looking at the time. "I've got to chase down something for another case, but if you find anything you think might be useful just give it to Fleur. She can get it to me."

Luc stood and nodded, shaking Harry's hand once more.

"Thank you, Harry," he said sincerely. "I know helping us goes against everything your training and instincts tell you to. This whole thing does the same to me, so thank you."

"Gabby sounds like she was a fantastic person who didn't deserve what happened to her," Harry said with conviction. "I'll do anything in my power to make sure her murderer is brought in."

.

.

Harry sighed as he placed the quill down on his desk. He'd spent the better part of the day investigating, if he could even call it that, a break-in at a home in Gloucester. After the old man had argued with Harry for fifteen minutes he'd finally let Harry in. It hadn't taken long to find that the break-in was merely a large family of Puffskeins making a home in the man's shed.

Not wanting to bother the Creatures department with such a trivial matter, he'd taken it upon himself to relocate the tiny creatures to a large park just outside the city. He'd have thought twice about such a selfless act if he knew it would mean twice as much paperwork.

Harry heard the lift slam open and Sirius rushed out dressed in, of all things, muggle attire. The two locked eyes and his godfather nodded.

"Are you wearing slacks and a button up under that robe?" he asked.

Harry nodded.

"Good," Sirius said, "Ditch the robe and let's go. We've got a meeting."

Harry's eyes widened in shock as he pulled off his robe and draped it across the back of his chair.

"Narcissa came through then?"

Harry followed Sirius through the department and into James' office. This would be a floo trip, it would seem.

"I had to call in just about every favor Andromeda owed me to get her to talk to me, but yeah, Narcissa set up a meeting. It's not far from the Leaky Cauldron," Sirius explained, stating the name of the establishment before disappearing into the fire. Harry followed.

They quickly exited the Cauldron onto the muggle side, taking a left and walking a short ways to a small park. There was a pond in the middle with a fountain shooting water into the air at random intervals. Sirius steered them towards a bench beneath a thick set of trees that blocked out the sun. The older man sighed as he sat down.

"Why am I here and not my dad?" Harry asked.

Sirius laughed and shot him a wide smile.

"Narcissa wouldn't talk to Regulus unless I agreed to exclude your dear old dad."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Any reason why?"

"Probably because the last time they saw each other James called her a cow," Sirius said with a chuckle. "I told her it would just be you and I."

"You know we're in muggle London, right?" asked Harry.

Sirius' eyes widened as he looked around wildly.

"Sweet, Merlin. Is that where we are!?" He continued to look around until Harry punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Yes, I am aware, little Prongslet. It's neutral ground."

Harry nodded and took out his wand, casting a few detection spells to ensure there were no traps. He found none, though he thought it was even odder that there were no notice-me-not spells in place. Either this was incredibly last-minute or Sirius had agreed to no wards. Neither sat well with him.

"Relax, kid," Sirius said, knocking his knee against Harry's. "Regulus and I might not like each other but he's not going to try to kill me in public."

"You say that now, but don't come crying to me when you end up in St. Mungo's."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both looking around. Despite his seemingly carefree nature, Sirius Black was one of the best in the field. He'd gotten them to the meeting place early, likely done his own sweep of the area, and brought backup in case things went sideways. Harry relaxed just a bit. He and Sirius worked well together. They'd have each other's backs if needed.

"Your uncle's were asking about you," said Sirius.

Harry sent him a questioning look.

"What about?"

Sirius shrugged.

"You know how Moony and Wormtail are," he said with a sigh. "Mooney wants to see you. Says it's been too long. Wormtail just wanted to know if you needed any more potions."

Harry smiled as he thought of his uncle Remus and uncle Peter. While they spent more time in the muggle world, Remus due to his circumstances and Peter by choice, both had always made time for Harry whenever he needed. Guilt welled up in his chest as he realized he hasn't visited either of them in several months. He used to check on Remus after every full moon, but things had been so busy that he'd slacked off.

"I really should visit them," he admitted. "I've been terribly lax with my family."

"They were very understanding when I told them about your attractive lady friend," said Sirius with a smirk.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"How are you and Fleur?" His godfather's expression had shifted instantly to concern. "You two seem to get along pretty well."

Harry mulled over his answer, resisting the urge to blurt out the first thing they came to mind. Telling his godfather and more importantly, fellow Auror, that his girlfriend was also an internationally wanted thief was probably not a smart idea. Or perhaps Sirius would find it funny and offer to help, he honestly didn't know. Better not to risk it, though.

"We're good," he said casually, "we have fun, enjoy time together, and fight like any other couple. There's nothing special about us."

Sirius shook his head.

"Now I know you're keeping something from me."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck before looking over at the older man.

"What would you do if you really liked someone but you had something you disagreed on at a fundamental level?" he asked, trying to skirt around the real question as best he could.

Sirius blew out a long breath.

"I think it depends."

"On?" Harry questioned.

"What it is you disagree on and how much it bothers you." He clapped Harry on the shoulder lightly. "Regardless, I don't think you should let it get to you."

"Why's that?"

Sirius looked at him with a soft smile, the kind he'd seen his father wear when he'd go to him for advice.

"Because you're happy, kid. It's subtle, but it's there. I don't think even James has seen it yet."

Harry cocked his head.

"And what is it you see, oh wise one?"

"I see a kid who's in over his head yet exactly where he needs to be. You smile more. You laugh more." He winked at Harry. "I see it because I was in the same position when I was your age."

"What happened?" asked Harry.

"I fucked up," admitted Sirius with a scowl. "Didn't make the right choices. So, for the first time in my life, I'm going to tell you something I never thought would leave my lips: Don't be like me."

Before Harry could respond Sirius nodded his head to the left.

"Showtime."

Harry looked over and saw a tall, black haired man approaching them quickly, a scowl affixed to his face as he glared at them. Sirius looked at Harry.

"This will either be incredibly helpful or a waste of time."

Regulus stopped several paces away as they stood. For a moment nobody spoke until finally Regulus broke the silence.

"What the fuck do you want?" he demanded. "I'll answer your questions but make it quick, brother."

Sirius opened his mouth but Harry beat him to it.

"Who's Lord Riddle?"

Regulus was stunned momentarily, eyes going wide and fear flashing through his features before he recovered. He stepped closer, as if intending to share a secret not meant for outside ears before his shoulders slumped slightly and he made his way over to the bench. He plopped down with far less grace than Harry had come to associate with purebloods. The name had him shaken, which meant he feared the person.

Harry could use fear.

"Where the fuck did you hear that name?" Regulus asked with narrowed eyes.

His posture was difficult to read, though he was wearing a surprisingly muggle outfit. Slacks and a button up shirt, just like Harry. Far from easy to surprise them with a drawn wand if he decided he'd heard enough. That emboldened Harry as he stared the man down.

"He's my boss," Regulus continued, not waiting for an answer. "Why do you want to know?"

"He thinks you and Rabastan are dirty," Harry revealed. Once again, the taller man's eyes went wide. "Who is he?"

Regulus shook his head.

"I'm done," he said, "No more questions."

"Come off it, Regulus," Sirius said. "The mention of the name has you sweating. Help us out and we'll owe you one."

Regulus looked around nervously, taking a deep breath before exhaling slowly. Harry and Sirius shared a look.

"I don't know who he is exactly," Regulus said with a small shrug. "All I know is that his name is Tom Riddle and I'm pretty sure he's English."

"What makes you think that?" asked Sirius.

"His hatred of mudbloods runs deep," Regulus explained. "You can only find that kind of truth here, though even I'll admit the man makes the rest of us look like amateurs."

"Meaning?" Harry asked.

"Meaning he's got some plan to 'end the mudblood disease' as he says. Difference between him and the rest of us is that he's actually doing something besides playing politics."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Is that why he's smuggling rare artifacts from around the world?"

Regulus shrugged.

"Maybe, we're not exactly privy to his every thought. Says he's got some sort of ritual."

Harry turned towards Sirius with a confused look.

"Why would a bunch of influential purebloods follow someone who's clearly crazy?" he asked.

Regulus laughed, causing the two Aurors to turn back towards him.

"If you spend enough time around him you'd understand," he started. "The man is brilliant, and his knack for business is staggering. We've all been made significantly richer by partnering with him."

Harry scratched the back of his head. Something didn't add up.

"So why does your band of pureblood arseholes think you and Rabastan are dirty?" he asked. "You said yourself that everyone is benefiting from Riddle. Why are they singling you two out?"

"Probably because we are dirty," Regulus offered before smirking at Sirius. "What? Didn't think your dear old brother could tell the forest from the trees?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"You've never done anything out of the goodness of your heart in your life," he pointed out. "So why are you snitching on your boss? And to whom?"

"First the French Ministry," said Regulus, once again looking around. "Then the German Ministry. Just a small bit of information to hinder progress until we could get out. Once Riddle has you under his thumb he doesn't let go, and he's got reach. Not sure how far, so we've been cautious. A fat lot of good it did, considering how easily both of their governments brushed aside most of our information."

"What changed?" asked Harry. "You jumped into business with him but now you want to leave, so something must have shifted."

"Bella did."

"Bellatrix?" questioned Harry. "She's the reason you've been leaking information?"

Regulus shrugged, though a look of regret passed through his face for a moment.

"Bella used to be…less chaotic," he said, softer than Harry would have thought possible for the man. At that moment, Harry felt as if he could see Sirius in his face. The resemblance was uncanny, but it quickly faded. "When we linked up with Riddle she changed, slowly, but changed nonetheless. Got more radicalized. Rabastan got a feeling that we wer- are headed for something bad. I've known him long enough to trust his gut, so we started skimming off the top. Trying to build up a base to cover our tracks properly once we cut and run."

"Get us a meeting with Riddle," Harry said.

Regulus laughed and stood up. He approached Harry and sent him a wide, humourless smile before clapping him on the shoulder.

"I wouldn't even if I could," he said. "Riddle's dangerous, and I've made it a point to steer clear of him unless absolutely necessary. Besides, we don't call meetings with him. He summons us and we go to him. I wouldn't even know where to look for him, he always meets us somewhere new."

He rocked his head back and forth as he thought, weighing his options, no doubt. Finally he looked back at the two of them.

"Now might be a good time to disappear though. I'll make you a deal," he said, "I'll get you into the Lestrange house and you can talk it out with Bella. Rabastan would have to put on a show, but if you can take down Bella and her husband then you can bring them in for questioning. If anyone knows where Riddle hides then it would be them."

"And what do you get out of this?" questioned Sirius.

"There's some…insurance in the Lestrange house that can be used to ensure nobody follows Rabastan and I. You two deal with the husband and wife and then I disappear forever."

Harry looked at Sirius and the two had a silent conversation. Bellatrix Lestrange was dangerous, they both knew that. He'd heard stories from Sirius and his father of her skill during their time at Hogwarts. Rudolphus was no slouch either. He had a reputation in the underground for being ruthless, with the skill to back it up. Most of that was hearsay, but they never relied on untrustworthy sources, so Harry was inclined to believe it.

"We need to bring James in on this," Sirius said to Harry before turning back to Regulus. "How many can you get into the house?"

"You and the two Potter men, no more," replied Regulus. "The wards around the house aren't the best, they'll probably ignore you without a problem. You've got Black blood. Getting the Potter's in should be easy, I'm sure there's a crossing of the family trees somewhere up the branches. I'm not willing to risk more though."

Sirius turned back towards Harry.

"You, James, and I against Rudolphus and Bellatrix. What do you say?"

"And Rabastan," Regulus chimed in. "He's going to have to put up appearances, though I can make sure he makes it look good."

"And you?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll help you. They already suspect me, and Bella won't believe you were able to coerce me into doing what you wanted."

"How long do you need?" asked Sirius.

"Two days," replied Regulus as he turned to leave. "I'll send you the location and time to meet tomorrow. Be ready."

.

.

"This is in the country, outside of Hereford," Fleur said as she examined the page.

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, very secluded. No muggles for kilometers. There were scattered reports of muggles being harassed for years before they all moved away."

"Fitting for pureblood supremacists," Fleur spat before looking up at Harry. "What do you need from us?"

Regulus had come through with the information, a short owl simply giving them the time, place, and a note that said "figure out how to get there." James hadn't been pleased with the plan, expressing a whole list of concerns, but in the end knew that they wouldn't get a better opportunity without settling in for an incredibly long investigation. Despite how absurd some dark ritual that could kill muggleborns sounded, he agreed it couldn't be ignored.

They'd spent the entire day planning, attempting to come up with an entry and exit strategy, though they were working with limited information. The Ministry had no records of the property they were stepping onto, a fact that both puzzled and infuriated James. Old purebloods loved to show off their wealth, and providing documentation on their many properties was one such way.

"How long do you need to check the wards and come up with a clean way in and out?" he questioned.

"Half an hour?" Fleur guessed. "Maybe longer depending on the wards."

Harry nodded.

"Let's meet there before everyone else tomorrow."

"And what am I supposed to be looking for once I'm inside?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"Anything that'll get us a fix on Riddle's location. I suspect there will be a fight, so you should have cover to do your thing without a pesky Auror crashing your party," he said with a smirk.

"Right, I can work with that," she said, nodding her head. He could already see the plans forming in her head and he wondered if this was how she always was while planning to go out as The Shadow.

She stood and made towards the fire before turning back to him.

"It's late, you should get some rest," she suggested. She walked back to him, leaned up, and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He had a light dinner before slipping into bed. The night before a raid was always its own battle for him. No matter his training or how many mental exercises he did, he could never seem to quite calm his mind immediately. As he laid there, going over potential scenarios, his thoughts turned to Fleur.

Before he knew who she was, who she really was, he'd never been concerned for her safety. She was capable, incredibly intelligent, and he knew she could look after herself. Yet now, with the knowledge that she was behind the hood, he was worried. Should he have told her about the meeting? Perhaps it would have been smarter to go through with it and then try to find something himself? Tomorrow was uncertain, and he didn't like uncertainty, especially when it came to the safety of those around him.

He smiled and shook his head as his eyes began to droop. Fleur could handle herself. He had the burn marks to prove it.

He drifted off, and for the first time in years, he dreamed.

"I've got it from here."

Harry snapped his eyes open as his surroundings came into focus, staring up into the eyes of…Sirius? He looked different. Younger, but…older at the same time. Almost haunted. Spellfire crashed around them and they both ducked as debris rained down.

He looked around. Where were they? What was going on? It was then that he noticed what they were crouched next to. The wide arches standing tall, a wisp of smoke moving between them, like a thin sheet of curtain blowing in the wind. The unmistakable stench of death. The whispers, simultaneously heard and unheard.

Why the fuck were they in the Chamber of Death?

"Black!"

He and Sirius looked up to see Lucious Malfoy and Antonin Dolohov approaching with wands drawn.

No, that wasn't right. Dolohov was dead. Killed in a potions lab explosion years ago. He'd been there, seen the body himself.

What was going on?

Before he could think, spells were firing and his body reacted on its own, shielding and sending stunners and disarming spells back. All the while, Sirius was laughing, smiling, having the time of his life. The duel seemed to invigorate him, bringing colour back to his cheeks that was oddly missing. Cackling could be heard as Harry blocked a spell, casting a blasting curse back at Dolohov, catching the man off guard and sending him flying.

"Good shot, James!" Sirius shouted.

What?

Quickly Harry shouted "Expelliarmus!" and Malfoy's wand went flying.

Why was he shouting spells like a fifth year Hogwarts student?

With a smirk and an overly-dramatic flourish, Sirius sent Malfoy flying. He turned towards Harry and smiled. He opened his mouth to say something before grabbing both of Harry's shoulders and violently shoving him to the side. Quickly, the man threw up a shield, blocking a spell just in time.

"They should have killed you years ago in that prison!" a shrill voice sounded as they traded spells with Sirius.

Harry looked up and his eyes widened. It was Bellatrix Lestrange, but like Sirius, she looked…different. The last picture he'd seen of her had been of an attractive witch, not a single wrinkle or blemish on her skin and an air of aristocratic nobility about her. Now, she looked as if she were a few brushes short of a broom polishing kit. Her hair was messy, jutting out at odd angles, and her face was lined by early aging. She, like Sirius, had a haunted quality about her features.

"Dumbledore!" someone shouted from behind.

Harry turned to look and saw the headmaster enter. The old Warlock casually flicked his wand to catch a fleeing robed figure.

"I know you're better than that, Trixie!" Sirius shouted with a laugh.

Harry turned back just in time to see Bellatrix send a jet of light, one radiating pure hatred, striking his godfather in the chest. For a brief moment Sirius looked as if he would be unaffected, the smile still affixed to his face. Time seemed to slow as Sirius looked down. The smile fell and the glow in his eyes dimmed. He stumbled back, as if his legs were struggling to support his weight, before losing his balance completely…falling directly through the Veil of Death.

"Sirius, NO!" he shouted, stretching his hand out as he sat up in bed.

His breath was laboured, and the sheets were thick with sweat. His heart was racing as he panted. He looked around frantically, searching for his godfather before realizing he was still in his room. He tried to get his breathing under control, stripping off the damp shirt and tossing it to the ground as he closed his eyes and began the breathing exercises he'd been taught.

It was just a dream.

After several minutes his breathing returned to normal and his heart rate slowed. Slowly he laid back onto the mattress, ignoring the damp sheets and too tired to grab his wand from the table. It was just a dream, yet it had felt so real, as if he were living it. None of it made any sense, but exhaustion was quickly taking his remaining strength.

It was just a dream.

.

.

She popped into the clearing and made her way over to him. As expected, she was dressed appropriately, though he couldn't see her eyes behind the hood.

"You look like hell," the distorted voice of the Shadow said. "Is everything alright?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, I slept like shit, but I'm good."

He raised an eyebrow at her and flicked his wrist, his wand instantly in his hand. He made a sloppy V motion followed by a flourish as he pointed the end at her.

She cocked her head to the side.

"What are you doing, 'Arry?" she said before gasping. Her voice was no longer distorted, but it wasn't quite her either.

"'Arry, what did you do?" she asked again, stopping at her words.

He laughed.

"Okay, that's way better than what it was intended to do," he said with a wide smile between laughs.

She placed her hands on her hips.

"You 'ad to 'ave messed up the wand movement," she scolded, but the effects of the spell made him laugh harder. "I don't see 'ow this is funny! You 'ave clearly not mastered the spell as intended. This was not 'ow it was supposed to be used!"

He laughed again as she stepped out of the small circle and canceled his spell. He couldn't see her eyes, but he knew she was glaring at him.

"How can you get the wand movement so wrong?" she asked, the normal distortion returning as she folded her arms across her chest. "It's a small V followed by a flourish. Any second year Hogwarts student could have mastered it!"

He continued to smile at her until her composure broke and she joined him in laughing, though the distortion in her voice made it come out robotic and unnatural.

"I'll admit," she said, as they regained their composure, "that was kind of funny."

She stepped towards him and hugged him before stepping back.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked. While it was masked, he could feel the concern in her question.

He smiled to reassure her.

"Do you have everything you need?" he asked, flipping the switch in his mind, returning to the seriousness that the day demanded.

She nodded.

"I can already feel the wards and can tell they're weaker on the other side," she said, looking out to the house. "They feel dark, be careful, Harry. There's something off about this place."

"They'll be here soon," said Harry, turning around to point at the far end of the clearing. "You should get out of sight before they see you…"

He trailed off as he turned around as he realized he was already alone. He didn't know where she'd gone, but now wasn't the time to think about that. Fleur had broken into dozens of wards in her life and these would be no different. Left to his own devices he paced the small clearing, practicing wand movements and trying to calm his nerves. Clear minds led to victory, Moody would say.

Two small pops and he crouched down, wand out. He exhaled and lowered his wand as James and Sirius approached.

"Been here long?" James said.

Harry shook his head.

"No, got here just a bit ago." He looked at Sirius. "Are we sure your brother isn't setting us up?"

Sirius shook his head.

"No, I don't think so. Regulus might not like me, but we're still family," he reasoned. "I got the sense that he got himself in too deep with this Riddle character and we're the best shot at getting out he's had."

James looked at Harry.

"How are we playing this, son?"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you asking me? We already went over everything and you're the Head Auror."

"Be that as it may, we're here now and I want your opinion," his father replied.

A faint pop signaled another arrival. Harry looked over to see Regulus approaching before turning back to James.

"You two take Bellatrix," he said, "I'll take Rudolphus."

"I'll help with that," Regulus said as he made it to them. "Bella is far more dangerous but Rudolphus is cunning and we're on his property, so he'll have the advantage."

"You're sure Rabastan doesn't have a problem going against his family?" Sirius asked.

Regulus shook his head in annoyance.

"I know Rabastan. He'll play his part. A bit of a light show until the other two are dealt with." He looked at them all and scowled. "Are you ready?"

"Where are we entering from?" James questioned as they started down the hill.

There was no cover across the entire grounds, but there was a stillness to the air that made Harry think nobody ever took in the view of the surrounding area. Regulus took out his wand and made a few quick motions. Harry felt them pass the wards and had to agree with Fleur. They felt…off.

"What kind of wards are these?" he asked. "They feel different than blood wards."

"Because they are," Sirius said with a shudder. "They require something more to set."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Human sacrifices?"

Sirius nodded at the question.

"How is that not illegal?" questioned Harry.

"Oh, it is," James said, curling his lip in disgust, "but purebloods got themselves an exemption that we've been trying to overturn for decades."

"Quiet," hissed Regulus. He pointed towards the side of the house. "We enter through the greenhouse. Rudolphus will be there."

"And Bellatrix?" James whispered.

"If we're quick we can subdue him and it'll be four against one," Regulus replied in a short tone.

The tension in the air mounted as they all had their wands out and ready. There was no sense of heartfelt camaraderie that Harry was used to. He'd done so many raids that they'd blurred together over the years, but they all had a sense of ease to them when he was surrounded by the team. This was a stark contrast, like they were jumping into waters without knowing the depth.

Regulus opened the door to the greenhouse without a sound, motioning for them to follow. They quickly made it inside and Harry couldn't help but be impressed. A wide range of plants were in various states of bloom. He wasn't a herbalist, but he could make out some of them by sight. alihotsy, moly, aconite, baneberry, bubotuber, and valerian were all sprouting throughout the greenhouse. Some in their own pots, others together. He even spotted a bit of Asphodel in the far corner, surprising, considering the plant wasn't native to Great Britain or Ireland.

The area was wide, with plenty of space to move around, but Harry's eyes fixed on the man standing with his back to them near the stone of the house. He tightened his grip on his wand.

Rudolphus Lestrange.

James nodded at him and he crept ahead, thanking his past self for the forethought to invest in boots charmed to be silent. The other three fell back as Harry approached and stood to his full height, slowly raising his wand and pressing it against the back of the man's neck.

"Easy," Harry said, "Don't make any sudden moves or when you wake up you'll be in far more pain than necessary."

He cast a sideways glance at Harry and chuckled.

"It was foolish of you to come here, Mr. Auror," Rudolphus said as he turned around slowly, hands raised casually. "Very foolish indeed."

He caught sight of Regulus and turned up his lip.

"Coward," he spat.

Regulus shrugged.

"Better a coward than a lap dog," he shot back.

Without warning there was a green glow and Regulus slumped to the ground, dead. As his body fell, Sirius and James turned quickly to see Bellatrix and Rabastan holding their wands, fury boiling from the woman's very being. Harry was thrown back and he quickly slammed a shield into place as the greenhouse burst into action.

Two large vines above him stabbed downward, intent on impaling him on their magically-sharpened ends. He twisted and rolled until he was clear, sending two quick balls of fire at the green plants. Instantly they ignited and he turned back just in time to be caught in the shoulder by a blasting curse. His robes absorbed most of the impact, but he had little time to counter as leaves, sharpened like glass, began to fly at him from two directions.

Vaguely he heard the sound of fighting, but he focused, twisting once more out of the way before sending a flock of conjured birds to meet the leaves. Several made it through, cutting his face and shoulders, but he ignored the pain and sent several spells in Rudolphus direction.

Time to go to work.

He deflected a blood boiling curse and returned a bone-shattering hex at the older man, letting his instincts guide him as he took stock of the situation. Rabastan was playing his part, distracting James as Sirius dueled Bellatrix. Though from the sight of blood running down the side of his godfather's robes he was losing.

Harry made a circular motion with his wand, jamming it into the stone of the pillar beside him. A large chunk broke off and flew towards Rudolphus, catching him in the stomach, though not before he was able to slow it down. Harry twirled his wand at the mistletoe overhead and the branches grew in size and shape, until they were two green and red arms. He launched it up in the air and sent multiple, harmless spells at his opponent before his creation fell back to the ground, wrapping itself around Rudolphus. The man struggled and Harry added more vines from the surrounding area.

"Must be difficult, Bellatrix," he called, briefly looking towards the woman as she danced around the open area. "Being so pretty, yet so outmatched."

All around her plants and vines had come to life, though some looked as if they had been infused with black goop, their once vibrant colors withered into nothing. He concentrated momentarily as James took advantage of the distraction, refocusing Bellatrix's fury so Harry could work. He muttered the incantation, knowing he didn't have much time. He could feel the vines holding Rudolphus failing, and the mistletoe wouldn't be far behind.

He dropped to his knees and drew a circle in the ground followed by a triangle at both the top and bottom. At the tip of each triangle, he drew another circle. He continued to recite the words as he placed the tip of his wand in the direct center of the circle, a bright orange light pulsing before exploding all around them.

The ground shook as thick, sharp spears of dirt burst from the ground around Bellatrix, impaling or encircling her mutated creations. She growled in frustration.

The vines holding Rudolphus snapped. Not long. He turned back towards the man, and began to prepare his next spell.

Rudolphus twitched and looked at his brother.

"You sold us out, didn't you, you bastard?" he screamed.

Rabastan ducked under a stunner from James.

"What are you talking about?" he yelled back. "Why would I know about this?"

Rudolphus struggled again as the mistletoe tightened around him. Harry could see Rudolphus didn't believe his brother, and while he didn't want to see Rabastan dead, he wouldn't be upset if they turned their wands on each other.

"You and Regulus were always close," Rudolphus hissed. "You never went anywhere without the other and I'm to believe you didn't know what he was planning? I was hoping they were wrong about you."

"Brother," Rabastan ground out, sending a spell towards James, "let's talk about this later."

Rudolphus looked at Harry with a questioning, but angry eye.

"You knew about my brother, didn't you?" he asked.

Harry took a split second longer to answer than intended and cursed. Suspicion bred more suspicion, and this battle had likely pushed things over the edge. The extra pause was confirmation in the eyes of Lestrange. Rudolphus screamed in anger and the mistletoe exploded. He raised his wand, but not at Harry.

"Rabastan, look out!" Harry yelled, but it was too late.

The green light hit the other man in the stomach and he fell, his lifeless body hitting the ground.

Without a word, Rudolphus sent a barrage of green, purple, and black spells at him, barely giving Harry time to summon several pots to catch them all. He returned with his own salvo, catching his opponent in the knee. Rudolphus was blinded by rage, and rage could make a man do terrible things.

It could also make him sloppy.

Harry pressed the advantage, encircling a large string of Belladonna plants with his magic, extending its length and wrapping it around the man. Rudolphus cut the first section, sending the bits back at Harry, catching him in the side. Unfortunately, there was simply too much for Lestrange to get rid of it all as he was captured by the plant, but not before he shot several spells wildly in panic. Harry raised his wand before he heard something that made his stomach drop.

"I know you're better than that, Trixie!"

An inhuman scream erupted from the woman's throat and James was tossed violently across the greenhouse. He'd been hit by one of Rudolphus' stray spells, a bulbous mass growing on his shoulder, distracting him from his opponent. Caught off guard, he hit the stone of the attached home and fell to the ground directly onto his right wrist, wand clattering to the ground next to him.

Harry heard the crunch of bone from where he stood. James tried to get up but fell back in exhaustion, passing out from the pain. Another scream and Harry pivoted as a stream of multicolor light that seemed to have no end or beginning came bursting forth from the end of Bellatrix wand.

Green, yellow, orange, red, black, purple, green, green, green, black.

Sirius ducked and dodged, putting as much effort into remaining out of their path as possible. He pulled several thick balls of dirt from the ground to intercept the spells as he backed away. Harry was just about to turn back to Rudolphus when Sirius lost his balance and tripped backwards.

Time slowed.

"Sirius, NO!" Harry yelled as he tried to pull up his wand to help, but he wasn't quick enough.

One of the spells impacted Sirius in the chest and he spun away from Harry, landing on his side on the ground. He skidded across the dirt for several seconds before coming to a stop, unmoving.

Chapter Text

Sirius didn't get up. He didn't twitch. He didn't make a sound. He just lay there. Unmoving.

Shock hit Harry quickly, the sight of his godfather's form nearly stopping his heartbeat. Just as quickly came the fear, something he'd never experienced professionally before, but not fear for himself. It was fear for what he'd find if he walked over and turned Sirius onto his back. Fear that all he'd find is a vacant expression and nothing more.

After what seemed like an eternity, time returned to normal.

His blood boiled.

With an inhuman scream of his own, all Harry saw was red.

He let it consume him completely, let the anger and unbridled rage wash away the shock and fear, like sand at high tide. His whole body burned, though his chest burned hottest of all. His heart beat faster and faster until he could hear the blood pumping in his ears. Without thought, his movements were no longer his own.

“Harry!”

A voice called to him from a great distance, but the fire within him continued to burn, pushing out all thoughts as he moved with purpose. He was blinded, all he could see was the image of Sirius on the ground, and it fed the inferno. He'd forgotten his training, set aside proper form, and completely abandoned all sense of self. He could taste the magic in the air and it yearned for more chaos.

"Harry!"

The voice called again and he nearly faltered, but he simply swatted it away. A distraction. His arms burned and he could feel slick liquid dripping down his side. It didn't matter, not now. The voice called to him again, closer and more distinct, and the part of his mind fighting against the tide of his anger latched onto it like a life raft. It was a port in a storm, a beacon of something external of himself.

"HARRY STOP!"

The voice pierced through the haze, shattering it. The anger receded and the red he saw dissipated, replaced with a blurry look at his surroundings. His mind was once again his own as he realized he was still in the greenhouse. His arms were bound by thick green vines, holding him down as he struggled against their confinement. He stopped moving as his vision began to clear and dropped to his knees at the sight before him. The vines released him.

The greenhouse had been completely destroyed. It was as if a tornado had torn through the enclosure. Dirt, plant boxes, and roots were strewn about, ripped from where they'd been with reckless abandon. The large vines curled around the overhead trellis were on fire. Nothing had been spared, not even the incredibly rare plants he could see in the far corner, their bright leaves already wilting from the harsh reality of being torn from the soil.

His eyes widened as he looked down.

Bellatrix Lestrange lay dead.

Or rather, what remained of Bellatrix Lestrange was before him. Her body had been nearly torn to shreds, her skin was littered with cuts, some large and deep, others simple nicks. It was as if she had been placed in a storm of glass. Her stomach had a deep gash and her throat was cut, but there were bruises forming as well, as if she'd taken a beating before being cut down. A hand fell onto his shoulder and he jumped.

Looking up, he saw Fleur, hood down, a look of deep concern on her face. He tried to speak, but words escaped him.

Had he done this?

"Merlin, Harry, are you alright?" she asked as she squatted before him, placing herself in front of the body, blocking his vision. "Harry, please answer me. Are you okay?"

He nodded numbly, looking down. His own arms were littered with cuts. He dropped his wand in shock, a sharp pain shooting into his hand as he did so. He opened his right hand and saw a burn the exact shape of his wand had formed on his palm. He was suddenly very aware of his own injuries and his head throbbed. He wobbled as a wave of pain wracked him. He touched his side, wincing as he felt the gash.

He looked at Fleur.

"Sirius. Sirius is-"

"Alive," she interrupted.

He stopped breathing. Sirius was alive? He couldn't concentrate, couldn't think straight.

"What?" he whispered, "he's…alive? But, I saw-"

"Harry," Fleur interrupted again in a commanding tone. "Sirius and your father are alive but they need a healer. Rudolphus is stuck to the wall of the house and he's alive as well. Look at me Harry."

He focused on her, pushing away all other thoughts. He stared at her face, taking in the details, memorizing the worried frown and blue eyes filled with concern. He took a breath, an almost impossible task, but he continued to focus on her, picking up the details. She'd let her hair go back to her natural blonde and her voice was no longer distorted. He took another breath as he studied the lines on her face, letting the act guide him back to his center.

"Harry, we need to call for help. What's the protocol here?"

He nodded. She was right, they needed to call for help. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small, round crystal ball. It was unassuming, its cloudy surface the only distinguishing feature. Another little project from the Department of Mysteries. Once activated, the matching one in the Auror department would sound the alarm and provide his location. He handed it to her.

"Put it on the ground and break it," he directed robotically before closing his eyes.

He took several deep breaths as he finally latched onto the mental exercises he'd been taught. Breathe in, count to ten, breathe out. Repeat. Again and again he performed the action. Slowly his mind sharpened, no longer needing the focal point of Fleur's face to remain lucid, yet he still felt numb. He reached for his wand and winced as it touched his right palm, quickly slipping it into his holster before standing up and surveying the area.

Sirius was on his back and a weight lifted from Harry's shoulders as he saw the slow, erratic rise and fall of the man's chest. Across the greenhouse he saw his father propped up against a stone column. His wrist was swollen and purple, but his breathing was normal, almost as if he were taking a simple nap. Just as Fleur said, Rudolphus was stuck to the side of the house by what appeared to be a thick spider web.

He heard the crystal break and Fleur turned towards him.

"What now?" she asked.

"Now you leave," he said, struggling to keep the exhaustion from setting in.

"I'm not leaving you alone," she said defiantly, stepping up to him with determination in her eyes.

He shook his head.

"Fleur, you can't be here when the team arrives. You weren't supposed to be here at all," he explained. "Did you find anything?"

She nodded.

"I found a few documents on their dealings, including some information on their warehouse locations."

He nodded towards the house.

"Put it all back and get out of here. They'll be here in minutes."

She bit her lip and wrung her hands together before she placed a gentle hand on his cheek. He leaned into the touch as a cool sensation washed over him, dousing what was left of the fire within. In its place was something calming, almost serene, as Fleur stared at him.

"I'll see you in a few hours," she whispered, reaching up with her other hand to grip the back of his neck, pulling him down until their foreheads touched. "Don't let this consume you, Harry. Trust me when I say that what you're feeling now can ruin you if not kept in check."

"How?" he whispered as he closed his eyes. "I feel like I'm drowning already."

She rubbed her thumb gently across his cheek.

"Grab onto something and let it keep you afloat." She leaned up and pecked his cheek. "If you don't have anything, then I'm here to keep your head above water."

With that she was gone. He kept his head down and eyes closed as he heard the sound of shouting outside. He took several deep breaths before opening his eyes again, gaze settling on the shattered remains of what was once Bellatrix Lestrange.

.

.

He sat in the chair next to his desk staring at the floor.

The department was a flurry of activity. Everyone had been called back to assist in…Harry honestly didn't know what. Alice had reached him first, surveying the scene before rushing him off to the Ministry. She'd personally ensured a healer visited him and all his various cuts and bruises had been healed, fixed as if they'd never been there at all.

Except for his palm.

The healer had tried everything, but the magic that had burned him refused to be healed by normal means. The familiar salve had been spread across the wound before being wrapped.

Alice sat with him after that, gently asking him what happened. He gave his statement as best he could, but just as he got to the part where he lost control James had arrived. With a quiet word to Alice he sent her to another task, gripping his shoulder before moving back to his office.

He wasn't sure how long ago that was. He'd taken down suspects, been in fights that had resulted in death, but never had he caused anything like what happened today. He wasn't scared to put down a bad witch or wizard when the job called for it, but what he'd done today went beyond that.

He desperately wanted to see Fleur again.

A hand settled on his shoulder and he looked up to see Hermione's smiling face.

"Hey Harry," she said softly, and he instantly knew he wouldn't like where it led.

It wasn't her posture or tone. She looked the same as always, the picture of a professional but with the warmth of a close friend. Her aura radiated confidence, and today was no exception. Instead, it was her eyes that gave her away.

She held a look of pity.

"We're ready for you in James' office," she continued, motioning for him to follow her.

He sighed and stood up. Instantly, the talk in the room lowered just a fraction. His co-workers thought they were subtle, that he wouldn't notice, but he did. As he passed, Neville gave him a reassuring nod of his head.

They entered his father's office and found him sitting behind his desk with Draco standing on the near side. The blonde turned as they entered and curled his lip.

"Do you enjoy fucking things up so royally, Potter?" Harry tried to ignore the comment and simply looked at the other man. "I mean, I generally expect your department to be incompetent, but this is another level."

He took a single step towards Harry.

"Three purebloods are dead and three were injured, one of whom still hasn't woken up in St. Mungo's. Tell me, Potter, did you go there intending to get just three killed and you fucked up getting the rest? Or was that pure coincidence?"

Anger rushed Harry, so he reared back and punched Draco in the face as hard as he could. The blonde stumbled and fell, clutching his face as blood began to seep from his nose.

"That's enough, Harry!" James yelled as he quickly stood up.

Harry stepped back until his back hit the door. Hermione went to Draco, kneeling down to begin healing him. The other man glared up at him.

"That's all you're good for, isn't it? Just anger and battle," spat Draco.

Hermione shot him a look as she stopped the bleeding, telling him to hold still as she made sure it wasn't broken.

"It's not broken," she confirmed before standing up, her coworker following her lead.

"You better pray we find something in the house. Something incredibly damning," Draco continued. "My father is already sniffing around. He knows something happened, he just doesn't know what, but it's only a matter of time."

Hermione sat down and gestured for Harry to sit. He complied, but his hand was beginning to throb. The damn blonde had a harder face than he thought.

"Rudolphus woke up a short while ago and he's highly upset," she explained. "We can't keep him much longer unless we find something. Once he's released he'll hear about Bellatrix."

Images of the body, broken and bruised, floated into his mind. He looked down at his hands, the wrap on his right palm a persistent reminder of how badly he'd fumbled the operation. He hadn't thought about the consequences until now, unable to process what had happened, his mind still sluggish from the haze he'd worked himself out of. Yet he had to push through, do his job, because that's what he was trained to do. He thought about Draco's words for a moment, mulling over his options, before looking up at the blonde.

"Go to the hospital and release him personally," he instructed.

"That's a terrible idea," Draco growled.

Harry shook his head.

"Apologize for the inconvenience but tell him Tom Riddle knows about his failure."

"And that means what, exactly?" Draco asked.

"It doesn't matter what it means," Harry shot back, "it's enough to have him walk away without any further questions or public calls for an inquiry."

Draco shot James an incredulous look, as if he thought Harry had cracked. James gave him a firm nod.

"Go, do as he says," James directed before looking at Hermione. "Can you give us a moment? I'll be ready to continue in just a moment."

She nodded and stood up, squeezing Harry's shoulder before her and Draco departed, the door closing behind them. Harry looked over at his father and was relieved that he didn't find pity in the man's eyes, only concern. He could withstand pitying gazes from others, but he would probably crumble to nothing if his father joined in.

"What happened, Harry?" James asked with concern. "One moment we're dueling and the next I'm waking up to see everything is destroyed."

"Is Sirius okay?" Harry asked, his voice almost a whisper.

James nodded.

"He should wake up soon. He got hit with some pretty nasty spells but the basic first aid you gave him helped a lot." He looked down at his wrist. "It helped the bones set in my wrist quicker too. So thanks."

Harry schooled his features and did his best to keep his reaction from showing. Fleur seemed to have attended to them both after breaking him from his trance. It had felt like moments, but it must have been longer. His fury had been directed at a single target, so she was unlikely to be in any danger from him after his initial outburst that had wrecked the greenhouse. He'd have to thank her properly the next time he saw her.

"You didn't answer the question," James continued, leaning forward in his chair. "What the hell happened?"

"I…" Harry started before stopping. He opened and closed his mouth several times, frowning as he attempted to put to words what he had gone through. "I thought Sirius was dead."

James raised an eyebrow.

"Sirius has been hurt before," he pointed out. "He's gone down on raids in the past and you've never reacted like that. I need something more, Harry. We're looking through the house but I need you to help me understand."

"It's going to sound crazy."

"Right now? I'll take crazy," James replied with a small smile.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. How do you explain that you briefly lost your mind because of a dream? That you thought you'd lost your godfather and the image of him falling through the veil of death triggered something within you that let loose a monster? He was disgusted with himself for losing control in the way that he did, but far more than that, he was ashamed that he'd let himself get duped by a stupid dream.

"Last night," he started, unable to look his father in the eyes. Instead, he stared at his right palm. "I had a dream. Sirius and I were fighting Malfoy and Dolohov in front of the veil of death. We got the better of them, but then he and Bellatrix started dueling. She…she got him and he fell through the veil."

James raised an eyebrow.

"A dream?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, but it wasn't like any dream I've ever had. It was as if, I don't know, as if I was living it. Yet, it wasn't this me, but some other, younger me. It's crazy, but the taunting Sirius did to Bellatrix today was the same he'd done in my dream." Finally he looked up at his father. "When he went down and didn't get back up, it felt like it was real. Like the dream had become reality."

"What happened after Sirius fell in the greenhouse?"

Harry shrugged.

"I don't know," he admitted. "When he didn't get up, didn't even move, everything just went…red. When I came back to my senses Bellatrix was dead and the place was destroyed."

Tears fell from his eyes as he looked at James.

"Dad, what's wrong with me?"

James was out of his seat in an instant, moving around the desk and wrapping Harry into a tight embrace. There was a warmth to the action that his father had avoided while at the Ministry, preferring to keep a bit of professional distance between them for appearances, if nothing else. That was gone, and in that moment they weren't two Aurors, but rather a father and son. Harry squeezed his father tightly, trying to let him know how much he appreciated the gesture without words.

After a long moment, James released him, sitting down in the chair next to him and gripping his shoulder tightly.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Harry," he said with conviction. His words brushed away a small amount of the doubt that had taken root in Harry's mind. "Bellatrix had just killed a man in cold blood and would have likely done the same to us if we hadn't stopped her."

"Then why do I not feel okay about what happened?" Harry asked.

James smiled.

"Because you're a good person, son. You've taken lives before, only because you had no other choice, but it's never easy." He frowned and removed his hand from Harry's shoulder, leaning back in the chair. "And because you know what happened today was excessive. Nobody is concerned about what you did, Harry, it's how you did it that's worrying."

Harry nodded, sighing once again.

"What happens now?" he asked.

"Now, unfortunately, you can't stay here," James said.

Harry looked over at him.

"Harry, I've got to suspend you indefinitely," he continued. "Until we can get this case wrapped up, figure out who this Riddle character is, you can't be around. There's too many eyes on us now and there will be far more once word gets out. You can't investigate this case and it's best if you weren't here at all. At least until things calm down."

Harry nodded. He understood, even if he didn't like it. This had been a colossal failure when it came down to it. The Lestrange line was in danger of being wiped out, and the Black family had nearly been done in, not to mention the only remaining pureblood Potter being injured. The purebloods would be worked up into a frenzy, descending the Wizengamont into chaos for weeks, though his gut told him it wouldn't be as bad as it could be. Their successful raid on the Nott house, and the looming shadow of Tom Riddle over Rudolphus made Harry believe they would run out of steam quickly.

"I get it," he said. "This doesn't look good, so best if I'm away for a bit."

James nodded.

"Think of it as an extended holiday," he tried before frowning. "Without pay, unfortunately. You need a break, Harry. Get out of the country for a few days. Alternatively, see if you can visit your mother for a few days. I'm sure she'd love to see you at Hogwarts, and the old man has always had a soft spot for you."

Harry nodded again and stood, squeezing his fathers shoulder.

"Thanks, dad."

Without another word he opened the door and walked out, not bothering to tell the waiting Hermione anything as he made straight for the lift.

James sighed and motioned Hermione into the office as his shoulders slumped. She gave him a weak, half-hearted attempt at a smile.

"How'd it go?" she asked.

"About as well as could be expected," he replied, rubbing his face with his hands. "Croaker and I put our necks out to keep the Minister from demanding his termination. Merlin I hope they find something in that house."

"On that note, it seems like they have," Hermione replied, gesturing out to the department floor. "Neville just reported in and said they've found the corpses of several creatures that are illegal to kill as well as a small quantity of unicorn blood. Frank is going through their paperwork now, but he also thinks they're finding something there as well."

James relaxed slightly at her words, though Hermione sent him an apologetic look.

"James, even though we're finding things, Harry might still have to be fired," she said. "Once the public hears about this it's going to be a different matter altogether."

James closed his eyes and nodded.

"I know, don't worry," he said wearily. "Even if the purebloods don't have a leg to stand on in the Wizengamot, they can still turn the public against Harry. I hate the fucking court of public opinion."

He opened one eye and turned it towards Hermione.

"If you were an outsider with no knowledge of Harry, what would your initial reaction to this whole thing be?"

"I'd see a team of Auror's who executed an operation, were forced to adjust, and then…" she hesitated.

"Keep going, I won't be offended," he said with a wave of his hand, sinking lower into the seat.

"...an Auror who put down a suspect. Hard. Potentially with excessive force," she finished.

James nodded. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Did Harry tell you what happened? Why did he kill Bellatrix the way he did?"

James straightened up and stood, moving back around the desk to sit in his normal chair. He let out a long sigh before looking back at Hermione.

"Because…because he's Harry, and sometimes he thinks with his heart instead of his head. I just hope it doesn't destroy him this time."

.

.

He appeared in his flat and instantly a warm body collided with him.

He looked down, smiled, and wrapped his arms around Fleur, letting the scent of cinnamon waft through his senses. Before he could say anything he felt the familiar sensation of apparition and they landed again. He released her and looked around. They were on the beach, there was sand beneath his feet, and not a single person in either direction.

Taking in a deep breath he turned around to see a charming beach house not far from where they were, its light blue walls and white shutters an inviting sight. He turned back to look at Fleur with a raised eyebrow.

She looked towards the water and sat down before removing her shoes. The socks came next and Harry followed her lead. He buried his feet in the sand and stared out at the choppy waters, the sound of waves rolling onto the beach.

"I bought this place, and all the surrounding land, not long after the Shadow got her name," Fleur explained with a small, sad smile. "I would come here to clear my head or Gabby and I would make a weekend trip of it. There's a nice village not far from here."

She grabbed his hand and interlocked her fingers with his, gently rubbing his hand with her thumb.

"After the explosion, this place had too many memories. Everywhere I looked, I saw her." She laughed. "All this space, and no matter where I went it felt like I was suffocating."

"So why bring me here?" Harry asked.

She looked at him and smiled.

"Because I want to make new memories here. I can't keep letting the past rule my life. I'll treasure the memories of my sister forever, but I need to take back some of my past to make a future." She looked around. "This seemed like a good first step."

She stood and dusted the sand from her backside, holding a hand out for him after she was done.

"And I think you could use some new memories too."

He smiled and took her hand, letting himself be helped up. She was right, and the peaceful atmosphere of…wherever they were had a certain appeal to it. He could hear birds and the ocean, but aside from the local wildlife, they were alone.

"Where do we start?" he asked with a smile

She looked up and nodded.

"It's just about to start getting dark, I know exactly what to do."

She led him closer to the house, to a fire pit that had four chairs around it. With a few quick motions of her wand the fire lit, the sliding door to the house opened, and several items floated out. She sat down in one of the chairs and reached down, grabbing something and holding it out for him.

"It's a stick," he deadpanned.

Fleur gasped.

"Really? I never knew!"

Harry rolled his eyes as he sat down beside her, grabbing the stick from her.

"Alright, Ms. Comedian, what are we doing with these sticks?"

"First," started Fleur as she grabbed two glass bottles that had floated out from the house. She handed him one and tapped her own against his before taking a long sip. "We drink."

Harry tipped the bottle over and took several long gulps, the cool drink going down smooth. He nodded and looked at the label.

"This is good," he commended, "where'd you get it?"

She threw her thumb back in the direction behind her.

"The village down the way is muggle. They've got all manner of drinks, though their wine is kind of terrible."

He nodded as Fleur handed him a chocolate bar and a stack of light brown crackers. He took another sip of his drink before placing it on the ground.

"Hold out your stick," she directed.

"We haven't even had one drink yet," he said casually.

She glared at him as she reached down and pulled out a large bag of what had the be the largest marshmallows he'd ever seen. He raised an eyebrow as she opened the bag, popping out two of the sugary treats. She stuck one into the end of his stick.

"Graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows," he recited.

"Five points to Gryffindor," she said cheekily, pointing at the marshmallow now stuck to the stick. "One of our coworkers in Egypt showed us this. Hold the marshmallow over the fire until it starts to brown a bit."

He did as instructed and after only a few moments he'd apparently reached the desired colour, as she moved it away from the fire.

"Grab two graham crackers and put a slab of chocolate onto one of them." He did as instructed, noting that one square of chocolate seemed perfectly cut to fit onto the cracker. "Now slap that marshmallow onto the chocolate and slide it off the stick. Once it's off, smash the other cracker onto the top of the marshmallow."

Again he did as instructed, looking up at her as he did. She smiled at him.

"Now eat it."

He took a bite and his eyes opened wide. It was sugary, very sugary, but there was something about the crunch of the cracker and the contrast between the chocolate and marshmallow that made it all perfect. He quickly finished the treat in a single bite.

"Merlin's balls, that's amazing," he said after it was all gone. "It's sweet, but not overwhelmingly sweet, and the toasting of the fire gives it a nice warmness that partially melts some of the chocolate."

"Congratulations Mr. Potter," she said with a smirk, "you just had s'mores. When I got introduced to marshmallows I questioned if I'd ever truly been alive before that moment. They're so good."

She held the bag open for him and he grabbed another to begin roasting.

"We sat outside one night and one of our American breakers taught us how to make them." She bit into her own and he laughed as a small moan of pleasure escaped her lips. "It became a monthly tradition after that. On a night when the weather wasn't terrible we'd sit outside, make s'mores, drink cheap drinks, and tell stories."

He finished off his beer and another floated to him. He took a sip and looked over at Fleur. She was smiling and her hair was a mess, but in the glow of the quickly-fading twilight he couldn't help but think she looked stunning.

"So tell some stories."

"What?" she asked as she held another marshmallow over the fire.

"Regale me with some tales of the life of a curse breaker," he said with a dramatic wave of his arm.

She didn't disappoint, and they went through the entire bag of marshmallows as she told him all about life in Egypt. Some of what she'd seen made him thoughtful, some of it made him sad, and some of it made him laugh. He quickly learned that any story involving a breaker named Madeleine, whom Bill hated for being, as Fleur said, 'utterly and completely without common sense,' usually resulted in Harry struggling to breath from laughing so hard.

It was hours, well past dark and both of them a bit drunk, when Fleur let out a large burp, unable to stop it from emerging in time. They looked at each other before descending into shared laughter. Harry stood up, proud that he did so without stumbling.

"On that lovely note, I think we should probably go to sleep," he said, helping her up.

As she stood to her full height she stumbled directly into his arms, bracing herself with her hands on his chest. She smiled up at him.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he replied, but it was muffled as she pressed her lips to his.

The sensation of kissing her shot through him, warming him far more than the fire did. Unfortunately, it also caused him to lose his balance and they fell. He landed, incredibly ungracefully, on his back and grunted when she landed on top of him. She straddled him and moved her hips slightly, smirking at the noise that escaped his mouth. She leaned down and kissed him deeply again.

When they broke apart and she leaned back there was something new in her eyes. All evening he'd seen genuine comfort and ease in her eyes, as if she needed their night away just as badly as he did. Now though, that had been washed away, replaced by one thing: desire.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. "We're both kind of drunk."

She pulled her robes over her head and tossed them to the side before looking back down at him. She moved her hips again and laughed.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want it," she said. "And from what I'm feeling, you want it too."

She removed her shirt and unclasped her bra, letting him get a full view of her body in the pale moonlight. She was breathtaking, and he had to remind himself to breathe before grabbing her hips and sitting up. He captured her mouth in a kiss as she began to unbutton his shirt. With his top discarded she threaded her hands through his hair and settled them on the back of his neck.

"Make love to me, Harry."

.

.

He awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs.

Sitting up, he looked around, finding his glasses on the end table and placing them on his face. He was still in the bed, though they had barely made it there before passing out just a few short hours ago. He stood and realized he was naked, though he quickly located his underwear on the floor before pulling them on. He moved out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen, stopping at the entryway to watch.

Fleur was at the stove making breakfast the muggle way, a spatula in her hand as she moved the eggs around. Two plates sat beside the stove, two slices of bacon on each, and a pot of coffee appeared to still be hot. Despite how good the food looked, Harry couldn't stop himself from letting his eyes linger on her form. She was wearing her stockings, they'd never come off last night, and his button up shirt.

And nothing else.

"It's rude to stare," she said without turning around as she began to place eggs on each plate. She turned to him as she finished and smiled.

"Sorry," he said, looking down.

She laughed.

"It's fine, I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want you to look," she replied teasingly. "Now come, eat."

They sat at the table and began to eat in relative silence, neither up for much conversation as hunger seemed to overtake them both. Snacks and alcohol was all they'd had last night, and while it was fun, it couldn't replace a real meal. It didn't take Harry long to finish, placing his fork on the table and sipping his coffee. He looked over at Fleur and realized he hadn't properly thanked her yet.

"Thank you," he said, "for everything. I…I didn't tell you that yesterday and I should have. I didn't realize how much I needed a break until I was kidnapped."

She smiled.

"I think I needed a break as well." Her smile faltered just a bit. "Do you…want to talk about it?"

He thought for a moment and nearly said no. He'd had raids go bad before and never needed to talk about it with anyone. He just made the best of it and moved onto the next job. This felt different, however. Perhaps it was the emotions involved, or how it went down, but somehow he realized he couldn't just bottle it up and throw away the key.

"I've had to take a life before," he started, looking down at his coffee cup. "They'd left me no choice or had made it impossible for there to be any other outcome. Yesterday was…different. I lost control, let my emotions get the better of me, and I lost myself to the rage. I feel like a monster."

She placed a hand over his.

"You're not a monster, Harry. You saved James and Sirius' lives."

He shook his head.

"I let myself get lost in the anger until I couldn't see anything else. What if you hadn't been able to pull me out? Would I have hurt you as well? Or worse, kill you?"

"And what if you hadn't killed her?" Fleur countered. "They were trying to kill you all and would have succeeded if not for you. The way it happened was unfortunate, but it was always going to end with Bellatrix Lestrange being dead. She would never have let you take her alive."

What she said made sense and the logical part of his brain knew that. He suspected that, given time, he'd also agree with her assessment. Bellatrix Lestrange intended to kill or be killed the moment she murdered Regulus, a display such as that right in front of three Aurors clearly showed she intended to leave no survivors. It would just take him some time to reconcile those facts with what he felt in his heart.

"I…don't want you to think any less of me because of it," he admitted. "I'm not a murderer."

She placed a hand on his cheek.

"I know that Harry. Anyone who's ever met you knows you're not a murderer, and I would never think less of you for what happened." She stood and kissed him on the cheek before walking over and grabbing the coffee pot. She returned and refilled his mug. "You're a hero Harry, and I'm sure your family will say the same thing."

A comfortable silence settled over them as they drank their coffee. Harry looked out of the back door and watched the waves rolling by, the sound of the water drifting into the kitchen. He turned back to Fleur with a smile.

"I've been suspended indefinitely and barred from working on any cases."

She raised an eyebrow.

"So why are you smiling?"

"How would you like to visit Hogwarts?" He asked. "My mom would probably enjoy seeing me, and you two can talk charms."

"And the real reason to go there?"

Harry shrugged, though his eyes held mischief.

"If we happen to run into Professor Dumbledore then I could casually ask him some questions. Perhaps about a potential former student. You know, purely academic stuff."

"Right, purely academic," she agreed conspiratorially.

Harry looked out to the beach.

"What do you say we enjoy our break for a bit longer first?"

She smiled.

"I think we could make a few more memories before we leave."

Chapter Text

"That's the fourth owl from Luc in as many days," Fleur pointed out, releasing the small brown bird to return to where it came. "We should probably respond."

Harry shrugged.

"I did respond. After the second one."

"Harry," Fleur said politely, "writing back the words 'Fuck off for a bit' isn't a response."

He sighed.

They'd been at the beach house most of the week, largely keeping to themselves. They'd gone into the muggle village a couple of times, mostly for supplies, but they'd mingled in the few shopping stores there were. He had to admit that the place had a certain charm to it, tucked away as it was, an almost bubble of peace in an otherwise chaotic world. He looked over at Fleur as she stared down at the other letter that had arrived and smiled.

He'd made up a game after the first day, one he'd not told her about but deeply enjoyed. That morning at breakfast she'd smiled at him, one of the rare true, full smiles that life so very rarely let her display. The ones that went all the way to her eyes. His breath had caught in his throat at her radiance, and he'd decided that was his new mission. He didn't have any work to do, so he might as well have something.

So he'd made a game with simple rules. Make Fleur smile as much as possible. Bonus points for bigger smiles.

It was silly, utterly silly, but there was always a small layer of sadness in her eyes if someone knew where to look. She hid it well, but they'd known each other long enough that he could see it each time he looked. It disappeared briefly when she smiled, like perhaps things would work out if she could just be happy. He'd taken it as a challenge to himself.

"That's the letter from my mum?" he asked as he finished cutting the pineapple. He moved the bowl over to where she was sitting and placed it in front of her, tossing another pineapple slice into his mouth.

"She got back to me incredibly quickly," Fleur responded, idly grabbing some of the pineapple herself. "She would love to have us and says we can come by the day after tomorrow. She's got no classes in the morning and an extra long lunch."

She looked up, her eyes wide.

"This is really good."

He nodded, grabbing another slice.

"Isn't it? The local guy selling them was telling me that they've had trouble getting good pineapple recently, but his latest batch was fantastic. He wasn't lying."

He pointed at the letter.

"Guess it's time to get back to reality, yeah?"

She looked at him and frowned.

"I can write to her and say we can't make it, if you want to stay. Or go somewhere else," she added.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I can't sit on my hands forever and eventually it'll feel like hiding."

She nodded and chewed on her lip, an obvious sign there was something she wanted to say. Her tells were obvious to him now, though he was unsure if it was his skills of observation or her giving him obvious signs that gave him such a read on her.

"You've got something to say." It was a statement, not a question.

"You know, Harry," she started as she looked at him with unsure eyes, "it's okay to not be okay."

He looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

"We've talked a lot since we've been here, had a great time, but you're still bottling it up," she pressed. "S'mores and sex aren't going to make it go away. You're always looking out for others, but you never look out for yourself. So, it's okay to be worried about your job. It's okay to not be able to push aside what happened in the greenhouse."

He looked down at his right hand and opened his palm. The burn was gone, just a slight discolouration that he would carry with him for the rest of his life was all that remained. All that was left to remind him of what he'd done, how he'd lost himself to the visions of a dream. Fleur was right, of course, he knew that. He'd spent the entire trip ignoring what was going on in his head, continually struggling to keep the lid shut on the box he'd placed those thoughts into.

"Every time I close my eyes I see her," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I see her lifeless body, broken and brutalized, and it makes me sick. Makes me hate myself. Like I said on the beach, it makes me feel like a monster."

"But what you did was necessary, Harry," she said.

He shook his head.

"No, you don't understand," he said, looking over to her. There were tears in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. "I came to understand something after we got here. I feel like a monster not because of what I did. I feel like a monster because I know that, even if I hadn't had that dream, I'd have still done the same thing regardless. I would have still lost control. And because a small part of me thinks that, given the chance to do it over again, I wouldn't change a thing."

She walked over and wrapped him in a hug, squeezing him tightly. Her warmth spread to him and he felt her magic touching the shields of his mind, attempting to find a way in to comfort him. For the first time since they'd met he let a small bit of it in, allowing her to wash over him completely.

His mind didn't go blank, nor did he lose himself to some ridiculous lust for her physical beauty. Instead, a calming sensation settled over him, not quite fully able to engulf him, but just enough to feel as if he had a safety net. A place that would be there if he fell off the cliff he was dangling precariously from.

"When Gabby was killed," Fleur started, running her hands through his hair, "I felt like I didn't deserve life. That everything I'd earned in life was a lie, completely overshadowed by the failure to protect my little sister. It consumed me for the longest time."

"How did you break free from it?"

She leaned back, just enough to look at him, but not releasing him.

"I didn't, not fully," she revealed. "There will always be a part of me that struggles with those feelings. Especially the guilt. They'll be there when we finally catch her killer and I suspect they'll be there long after. I don't let them consume me anymore, however, because a good friend, who loved my sister with every fiber of his being, spent a lot of time making me understand that I was more than I thought I was."

She paused and her cheeks turned a light shade of crimson.

"And because a man dressed in an Auror uniform gave me a glimpse of what life beyond justice might look like, and I quite like what I saw."

A heaviness that he hadn't even known was there lifted from his heart. Not completely, but just enough to ease the burden. He buried his face in her hair and took in her scent as her warmth washed over him once more. He didn't know how long it would take to rid himself of these feelings, if they could even be removed completely, but he knew that her words would help guide him towards a place that was far brighter than the pit he'd worked himself into.

"Is it bad that I'm also worried that my dream career might be over?" he asked.

She shook her head, her face still pressed into him.

"No, it's not. You worked hard to get where you are, it's only natural to want to hold onto that."

He sighed.

"I guess if the Minister decides I'm more trouble than I'm worth I can always apply at Hogwarts. My mum says Madam Hooch is looking to retire soon, and I'm pretty good on a broom."

She laughed and stepped back from him, gesturing with her head towards the beach.

"Shall we enjoy the view for a bit before heading back into reality? You can tell me about your qualifications."

He nodded. "I'd love to."

.

.

Sirius slipped into James' office and shut the door behind him, plopping down into the chair in front of him. His best friend smiled at him.

"Tired of the well wishers already?" James asked.

Sirius sighed.

"It's like they haven't seen me spend a week in St. Mungos before," the man lamented, slouching down into the seat. "I was injured, not dead. I was out far longer after we helped those Greek blokes with the Chimera several years ago."

James laughed.

"You can't really blame them. How you ended up there is a bit unprecedented." He raised an eyebrow. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh not you too," Sirius complained as he straightened up. "Like I've been saying all day, I'm fine and ready to get back to work."

"No lingering soreness?" asked James before he frowned. "No lingering issues about seeing your brother killed?"

"Regulus made his bed. He was going to have to lay in it at some point. I had hoped he would die of old age somewhere far away and I'd never have to see his face again, but that's not what happened. Did seeing him die stir some long lost feelings or brotherly bond? No, it didn't. Regulus wasn't a good person."

"He was still your brother," James pointed out.

"How is Harry?" Sirius asked, deciding he'd had enough of the conversation.

James smiled, understanding how sensitive the subject of family was to Sirius and decided it was best if they dropped it for now. He could always bring it up later.

"He and Fleur disappeared the day he was suspended," he revealed. "Or at least, she let the bank know she was taking some personal days and he hasn't been seen in London since."

"Know where they are?"

James shook his head.

"No, though I hope it's somewhere with lots of sun and not a lot of people." He laughed lightly. "I know where he'll be today. Hogwarts."

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Visiting Lily?"

James nodded.

"Yeah. I suggested he owl her before he left. Seems he took my advice. From what Lily told me, she's going to spend a few hours going over some runes with Fleur and Harry is going to wander the grounds before they have lunch."

"And the headmaster approved?" Sirius asked.

"That old man owes Lily more favors than he's got names and titles," James said with a chuckle. "Even if he didn't have a soft spot for Harry, there was very little chance Lily would have given him much of a choice. You know how she gets when it comes to Harry."

"Your wife is scary."

"Don't I know it." James smiled and shook his head. "So it seems he's taking it well."

"Has the Minister said anything else?"

James shook his head.

"No, and I don't think we'll hear more." He ran a hand through his hair. "Harry's little message to Rudolphus worked as intended. When word got out he condemned his wife's actions and hasn't said a single thing since. Draco says his father was trying to gather support for a public push, but he suddenly stopped."

James looked out onto the floor and sighed.

"Now we just need to get this case figured out so I can bring my best employee back." He looked at Sirius. "No offense."

"None taken. How's that going?"

James shrugged.

"I've got Alice running down some of the information we found at the Lestrange house and half the department is working to try to correlate activities between Nott, Parkinson, Lestrange, and your brother. Whoever this Riddle person is, they've covered their tracks well, so we're going back to the basics. If we can link all of them at certain points it might help us narrow down where Riddle is. Or at the very least, shut down whatever the hell they're doing."

"And the other half of the department?" Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow.

"We've still got our regular work," James said with a tired sigh. "I stacked all the junior personnel with as much as I could, and I'm back doing some field work, but everything is going to take time."

Sirius nodded in understanding, giving his old friend a concerned look. They both knew the underlying message in that statement, the unsaid words. The longer the case took the longer Harry would be suspended, and none of them wanted that. He'd been back less than a day, but the atmosphere was different, almost strained. Everyone wanted Harry back, though none more so than James.

"Not budging on the suspension then?"

James shook his head.

"No. The purebloods are remaining quiet, but someone leaked some of the details to the Prophet. I almost got into a duel with Amos Diggory when he insisted we fire Harry after the story hit." He sighed. "Luckily, I've built up enough goodwill in the right places to push back against those who support the idea. I'm not going to have any political capital left after this, but it's a small price to pay."

He rubbed his eyes.

"Why couldn't he have become a famous quidditch player? Or something mundane, like a broommaker? At least then it wouldn't be so complicated."

Sirius nodded and stood up.

"I'll get to it then."

"You need to take it easy Sir-" James started, but was cut off.

"You focus on this Riddle thing and I'll wrangle the other half of the department with getting the day-to-day completed. I'll pull Neville over if I need help."

He gave James a determined look.

"We have to wrap this up, James. Fast. You and I both know Harry isn't going to stay idle forever, that's just not who he is. So, either we shut down this operation for good, or we're going to be dealing with him going off and doing it himself. In your own words, Harry is the best we've got, and having him working outside of the department? That's not going to make things better."

Sirius laughed as he opened the door, turning around to shoot James a smile.

"Though, to be honest, it would be kind of funny to see. He is Lily's son, and he can be just as scary as her sometimes."

.

.

Fleur raised an eyebrow.

"A gate? Really? Just a gate?"

"Gates keep things out," Harry defended as they continued to walk. "And there's wards and stuff."

"Harry, it's a school for magic. And they keep people out with a gate. Made of iron."

"Well what do they use at Beauxbatons?" he asked defensively.

"Beauxbatons is hidden by advanced magic," she informed him. "Not just tossed out into the countryside protected by a gate."

Harry turned up his nose.

"Well excuse me princess, not all of us can be quite so sophisticated."

She patted him on the arm as they made it to the gate.

"At least you recognize and acknowledge your shortcomings," she said with a smirk.

Harry looked around, frowning as he did.

"Huh, that's odd. Usually Hagrid would be here to greet me."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Who's that?"

"Hagrid is the groundskeeper for the school," he said with a smile. "He's a friend, though he has a fondness for keeping incredibly dangerous creatures and his baking is terrible."

Harry wrapped his hand around one of the iron bars and pushed, causing the gate to open. He looked around and then back at Fleur.

"It seems the headmaster has been notified of our impending arrival and made arrangements to let us in."

"That's a good thing, right?" she asked as they stepped through the gate and began making their way towards the castle.

Harry furrowed his brow.

"My luck hasn't been the best as of late, so I'm going to say that one could go either way." He shrugged. "Then again, it's about time we got a break, so maybe things are looking up?"

They walked in silence for several minutes until the castle came into view. He kept glancing at her throughout their walk, taking in her reaction to the grounds as they moved along, noting how her eyes widened as the large, imposing complex came into view.

"This place is a sight to behold," she said, causing Harry to smile. "The grounds are so peaceful and the castle looks quite grand."

He nodded.

"It can get a bit drafty inside during the winter months, but it's always felt like something special to me." He pointed towards the left side of the castle. "Over there is the quidditch pitch, and on the opposite side is the greenhouse."

"I almost came here in my last year of school," Fleur said.

"Really?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She nodded.

"Oui. Madam Maxime told me they were trying to get the Triwizard tournament back up and running. Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. They could never come to an agreement all three schools were happy with, especially around the contents of the tasks, so the idea was scrapped."

Harry scratched his chin in thought as they kept walking, looking down at Fleur.

"So we could have met much sooner in life."

"It's possible," she replied with a shrug. "Though I was a much different person back then, as were you, I'm sure."

"Nah," he said humorously, "I was still incredibly charming and dashingly handsome."

Fleur rolled her eyes and pushed him gently.

"And very modest, I'm sure."

He laughed and stepped away from her, jumping around animatedly as he began waving his hands dramatically.

"Just picture it," he said with a flourish, "you, the lovely French Beauxbatons maiden. Me, the roguishly handsome Hogwarts student. The Beauxbaton delegation arrives and the feast begins. You, not caring for British food, seek out something that makes you think of home. You spot it, and walk up to my table and ask…"

He stepped behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.

"'Sorry, are you vanting ze Bouillabaisse?'"

Fleur stopped and folded her arms across her chest.

"I would not have sounded like that," she protested.

He laughed and continued walking.

"Yes you would have, and it would have been frustratingly adorable. Anyway..." he continued, ignoring her growl as she caught up with him. "All of my friends and I would have turned to you, captured by your words."

She raised an eyebrow.

"And what would you have done?"

"Easy," he said as if the answer were obvious, "I hand you the dish because I'm immune to your Veela magic." He winked at her. "And because Bouillabaisse is terrible."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," she threatened before her brow furrowed. "You are quite unaffected though."

Harry shrugged.

"Yeah, now. Back then I probably would have just muttered something incoherent and Hermione would have handed you the food. I suspect you have it tightly under control these days, and all Aurors have to learn Occlumancy before they can go out in the field. Anyone who goes undercover has to undertake more extensive training." He shuddered briefly. "Neville wasn't interested in undercover work so Moody taught me a lot more than him."

"Was the training that bad?" she questioned. "You always talk about this Moody person as if he tortured you, yet the name doesn't seem to make anyone angry."

He shrugged.

"In the eyes of the Ministry, what he put us through was pretty close to torture."

He held his hands up as her eyes got wide.

"I promise, It wasn't bad. Well, it wasn't that bad. It's like this: years ago the Ministry was reviewing all their training procedures and they decided that the regimen for new Aurors was excessive. Moody trained newbies like every exercise was life or death, and a lot of people washed out of the program. So the Ministry decided to make a new program, declaring the old one obsolete. Neville and I were the last ones to train using it."

She looked at him thoughtfully, and he could tell she had more questions. Everyone always did. Moody was a legend in the Ministry, renowned both for his prowess in the field and his ruthlessness in the training room. Harry learned a lot from the old, potentially-crazy man, so he would never speak a bad word about him, but he understood why people from the outside would question his methods. To him though, there was no replacement for the training Moody had given him.

Even if he'd given Harry some nasty scars.

As the castle doors came into view they saw two people standing in the archway. He waved at them.

"Looks like our luck is holding up." He nodded towards the two figures. "That's my mum and the headmaster. I'll get the headmaster alone and ask him my questions while you distract my mum for a while."

Fleur nodded.

"Sounds like a plan."

Harry smiled as they reached the doors and Lily launched herself at him, wrapping him in a tight embrace that he returned enthusiastically. She smiled up at him as they broke away.

"It's good to see you Harry," she said softly. "I was glad that you took up your fathers invitation to come visit me."

"Figured you could use some good company at lunch for a change," he said with a smirk. "And I brought a guest."

He looked over to the headmaster, watching knowingly over his half-moon glasses, and smiled, sticking out his hand.

"It's good to see you, headmaster."

Dumbledore smiled and shook Harry's hand.

"Harry, my boy, it's good to see you as well. It has been quite some time. You look more and more like your father each time I see you." He looked over at Fleur before looking back at Harry. "I don't believe I've met your companion."

"Headmaster, this is Fleur Delacour," he said with a smile. "Fleur, this is Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, and Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow as he exchanged greetings with Fleur.

"It seems time has not dulled your cheek, Mr. Potter," he said with a smile. "It's quite refreshing."

"Yes, well-" started Harry before stopping. "Wait, it is?"

Dumbledore laughed and nodded.

"Yes, quite so. Very rarely do I get the pleasure of anyone making fun of me, though your mother is quite good at it," the older man said. "Ms. Delacour, I'm glad you could join Mr. Potter today. I get the feeling you are the more responsible of the pair. Especially considering your talent for charms, as I hear it."

Fleur's eyes widened.

"You've heard of me, sir?"

"Indeed," said Dumbledore, "Lily has spoken about your brilliance several times. It's always good to meet a fellow lover of academics." He clapped his hands together. "But alas, I am not here to intrude upon your visit. I was on my way to the lake and shall leave you alone."

"Professor," Harry said, stopping the headmaster from leaving, "I've got a few questions for you, if you wouldn't mind me joining you. I've found myself with a bit of free time and I'm doing some research on a personal project. I was hoping I could get your thoughts while I'm here."

Dumbledore nodded.

"I'd be delighted, Mr. Potter. Come, join me."

Harry nodded, then turned towards Lily and Fleur.

"I'll be back in a bit. We'll have lunch when I get back." He began walking with this headmaster, throwing a wave at them.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he called.

"Well that leaves very little," muttered Dumbledore humorously.

As the two walked away, Lily turned back to Fleur, gesturing for her to follow into the castle.

"Come on dear, we can wait in my office. I've actually got something I think will interest you."

Fleur nodded and the two walked in silence for several minutes as the younger woman took in the sights of the castle. It was a stark contrast to Beauxbatons. The worn stone and rustic armor sets like night and day compared to the French school's white marble and statues.

"What has my son roped you into, if you don't mind me asking?" Lily said, breaking the silence.

"Excuse me?"

Lily laughed as she opened a door, holding it open for Fleur to enter. They stepped into a wide classroom and made for the small office at the back.

"I know my son, Fleur, and I know his situation," she continued. "He's still investigating the case, isn't he?"

Fleur stopped and looked at Lily, trying her best to keep the shock off her face. She'd underestimated Lily Potter's perceptiveness. Either that, or the older woman had instincts that were shockingly accurate.

"What makes you say that?" she tried.

Lily chuckled as she called for a school elf.

"Bring us some tea, please?" she asked.

The elf nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Lily."

"Once Harry sets his mind to something there isn't anything that can stop him," she explained, gesturing for Fleur to sit as the tea appeared on the table. "A suspension isn't going to stop him from trying to find the truth."

She picked up her cup and sipped it before looking back at Fleur.

"His father is the same way. James would take the suspension and just keep looking into things on his own, damn the consequences." She sent Fleur an apologetic look. "Sorry that he's roped you into this."

"It's quite alright," she said, bringing the cup up to her lip. It was jasmine tea. She smiled, wondering how the Potter matron knew it was her favorite. "I offered to listen and let him vent."

Lily sighed before taking another sip of tea.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, "I promise I won't tell James. Normally I would, but knowing you're watching out for him makes me feel a lot more at ease."

"It does?"

Lily nodded as she stood up.

"Of course, dear. You're a talented witch Fleur, and more importantly, good for my son. I have no doubt you'll keep him from jumping into something stupid. Or at the very least, jumping into something stupid without someone there to watch his back. Now enough of that."

She walked over to the small desk on the other side of the room, motioning for Fleur to join her.

"Take a look at this, I think you'll find these runes interesting."

.

.

"Where's Hagrid, sir?" asked Harry as they made their way in the direction of the lake.

"Ah, Hagrid received an invitation from Charlie Weasley to visit the dragon reserve in Romania," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I made arrangements for him to go. I'm sure he's having the time of his life."

"Who's teaching his classes?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he smiled mischievously.

"I am. Though I have been told the lessons are a bit less…dangerous without Hagrid. I have yet to figure out if that's a positive or not."

They walked in silence for a short while until they reached the lake.

"Is there a problem with the giant squid?" Harry asked.

"Not that I'm aware of," replied Dumbledore. "Why do you ask?"

Harry shrugged.

"You said you were on your way out here, so I figured there had to be something."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he smiled.

"Oh no, nothing of the sort. I like to take a walk around the lake when I'm puzzling out something. The atmosphere helps clear my mind."

Harry couldn't argue against that. He remembered spending time under one of the trees near the lake, doing homework or coming up with new plays to run in the next match against Slytherin. There was something about the waters of the normally calm and serene lake that put him at ease. Helped him concentrate. He'd never seen many others around, but it was good to know someone else got the same benefit.

"You said you had a question, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, breaking Harry's concentration.

"Oh, right," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I was wondering if you could tell me about an old student."

"Perhaps. Do you know their name?"

"His name was Tom Riddle," Harry replied.

The old headmaster made a thoughtful sound as they walked, staring out at the lake in contemplation.

"Where did you hear that name, if I may ask?"

Harry shrugged.

"The name came up in my research, but all it said was that he was English," he tried, though he could tell the old man didn't believe him.

It didn't matter if he believed him, not really. If he could point Harry in the right direction then that's all he needed. More would help, but this was their best shot at getting closer to Riddle.

"I suspect," Dumbledore said, looking at Harry with a knowing smile, "that this inquiry is more than mere academic."

"And if it is?" asked Harry.

"Well that entirely depends upon why you're making the inquiry." They stopped next to a small tree and looked out over the lake. "I'm aware of your current situation at the Ministry, Harry. What happened was tragic, but your suspension was necessary. As was your father's directive not to do any work."

Harry bit his lip, trying to think of what to say. How do you ask the most powerful wizard alive to help you without revealing the reason why? He was the head of the Wizengamot for Merlin's sake! There's nothing stopping him from going straight to the DMLE and telling his father that he was still investigating. Still looking.

So he made a split-second decision.

"Sir, if you were working on something that you suspect had the potential to ruin a lot of lives, but you'd been told to step back, what would you do?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard as he contemplated the question.

"I suppose I would keep working to keep as many people safe as I could. Regardless of what I'd been told." He looked at Harry with a smile. "That's what separates good people and people with real good in their hearts. Their inability to let others suffer can be both their downfall and their salvation. Only time determines which it is."

"That's kind of where I'm at, sir."

Dumbledore sighed and motioned for Harry to continue walking with him.

"Tom Riddle was a brilliant young man who came through these grounds under terrible circumstances," he started. "I don't use the word brilliant lightly, either. In all my years, I don't think I've ever seen a student with more raw talent and gift for magic enter the school. He was charming and incredibly persuasive. Top of his class, a prefect, and even Head Boy in his last year."

Harry nodded, but didn't interrupt.

"Sadly, Tom Riddle grew up in a…tumultuous world. He entered Hogwarts in the wake of the defeat of Grindelwald, and he held many of the same views on muggles that nearly tore all of Europe apart less than a decade prior. He'd managed to get his hands on some of Grindelwald's writings, and seemed to take them, in some ways, as holy texts."

He sighed again, and for a brief moment it wasn't the wise headmaster standing next to him. Rather, he saw an old man with a lifetime of regrets weighing him down. Just as quickly as the look entered the headmaster's face it was gone.

"After we confiscated the writings in his fourth year, I made an effort to look into him. Tom Riddle was born in a muggle orphanage."

Harry's eyes went wide.

"He was a muggleborn?"

"I thought so at first," Dumbledore admitted, "but once I looked into his family history I realized he was a half-blood. His mother was a witch. I wasn't able to find what happened to them, but I kept an eye on the boy after that. Attempted to get him to open up to me. Provided him with advanced texts."

"And what happened?"

"He was happy, or as I found out later, was very good at making it appear as if he were happy. His thirst for knowledge was breathtaking, and his approach to magic was downright stunning. He'd ask questions even I had never thought to ask. He could look at a problem and come up with a solution that was so out of the box that it was admirable. I thought the Grindelwald business had been put behind him when he talked about joining the Ministry. He said he wanted to be an Unspeakable. Unfortunately, while cleaning the Head Boy suite after the students left the elves found a page from one of Grindelwald's manuscripts tucked between a loose brick on the mantle."

"You think he fell back into the works?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

"I think he never left them, but rather, got better at hiding it."

"So what happened to him?" Harry asked.

"He disappeared after he left school," explained Dumbledore, "I learned later he worked at Borgin and Burke in Knockturn Alley for a time, but then he completely vanished, as if he never existed. None of my associates in the ICW have seen anyone matching his description, and I'm sure they'd know if they had. The young man's talent was undeniable and he was incredibly charming. Check the Head Boy and Head Girl records in the library, you'll find his picture there. You can see his personality in his eyes."

Harry scratched his chin. By all accounts this sounded like the guy they were looking for. Incredibly charismatic and persuasive with a gift for magic. Perhaps he was suave enough to get a bunch of proud pureblood witches and wizards to follow him? Get them quick results, make them gold within a short period of time to hook them in, and then you'd have them doing your bidding. Yet why had he disappeared?

"Grindelwald had a lot of ideas," Harry thought out loud as they found themselves coming back up to the castle. He hadn't even realized they'd turned around. "His manuscripts are filled with big ideas, but incredibly light on details of how he would achieve those ideas. So which ideas did Tom Riddle latch onto?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

"Grindelwald's hatred of muggles, sadly. I suspect his time in the orphanage directly correlated to his opinions on muggles. I believe he later expanded those opinions to muggleborns. Like Grindelwald, Tom Riddle was incredibly charismatic, getting many students to begin to question if maybe the dark lord was onto something."

"You're saying that he had followers at the school?" Harry asked.

"I'm saying that purebloods didn't always hate muggleborns with such passion," the old man said as they made it back to the entrance to the castle. He looked at Harry. "Grindelwald was like a match that sparked something. Tom Riddle fanned those flames with influential families just enough that, in the time since he was in school, more anti-muggleborn legislation has been introduced in the Wizengamot than any other time in history."

They entered the castle and the headmaster fixed Harry with a thoughtful expression.

"People like the Potters, Longbottoms, and Sirius Black have fought to change that, and they're slowly making progress." He gripped Harry's shoulder and squeezed. "Harry, my boy, I say this with the utmost importance: if whatever you are looking into involves Tom Riddle then do not underestimate him. I shudder to think of what he might have become had he gotten access to certain magics that should never be used."

"Be careful, Harry." His eyes lit up and he smiled. "Ah, I do believe I've come up with a solution to the problem that sent me out to the lake in the first place. Thank you, my boy."

With that he turned around and headed towards his office, leaving Harry alone in the entrance with his thoughts. He'd need time to process it all, perhaps even nick his dads pensieve to view the memory again, but they had far more to go on now. Enough to move forward in some way, but the headmaster's warning made him pause.

Tom Riddle was a dangerous man, and Harry wasn't sure what they'd find when they caught up with him.

.

.

They sat in his flat, a half-empty box of pizza on the table as they ate and discussed options.

"That was a big risk, letting Dumbledore know like that," Luc said with his mouth half full of pizza.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Harry and Fleur said at the same time. They exchanged looks and laughed.

Luc swallowed his bite of pizza and glared at them.

"Gee, thanks mum and dad," he shot back, taking another bite of pizza just to annoy them. "Seriously though."

Harry nodded and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I know, but it was calculated. I knew he wasn't going to give me anything unless I gave him a reason too." He finished off the remaining crust of his pizza, chewing it and swallowing before continuing. "Dumbledore is a good man, and what he said to me makes me think he won't tell anyone."

"Lily knows," Fleur said.

Harry whipped his head around and stared at her, wide eyed.

"What? How?"

Fleur shrugged.

"She knew you were investigating the case before we got there. She told me before we went over some incredibly fascinating runes. They help with-"

"That's interesting, and I'm so happy you find that interesting," interrupted Luc, "but let's skip the nerdy stuff and get back to the part where the wife of the Head Auror knows what Harry's doing."

She shrugged again.

"Like I said, she told me straight away after Harry and Dumbledore left."

Harry put his face in the palm. This was not ideal.

"Well my dad will know soon enough," he muttered.

"I don't think so," Fleur said.

They both looked at her, confused.

"She said she wasn't going to tell James," she said.

Harry shook his head.

"She's leading you on," he countered. "My mum and dad don't keep secrets from each other. It's one of the things I know about their relationship that has never changed in my entire life. Those two talk. About everything."

He narrowed his eyes and looked at Fleur again.

"What else did she say?"

"That she trusted me to keep you safe and not go off on your own." She sent him a smug look. "She called me a talented witch."

Harry groaned and put his hand back in his palm.

"Oh sweet Merlin, this is bad."

"Sounds like we're in the clear," Luc pointed out. "I don't see a problem. Unless you're saying your mum lied."

Harry shook his head and looked up, a distressed look on his face.

"You've met my mum, what, twice now?" he asked Fleur.

"In person, if you count the night we destroyed their house. We've done a few floo calls though."

"Two times and she's already taken a shine to you," Harry lamented.

Fleur raised an eyebrow.

"I don't see the problem?"

"She never likes the women I date," Harry said, causing Luc to laugh and toss a piece of crust at him. "Merlin, she's probably planning our wedding."

"I like purple lilacs," Fleur teased as she took another bite of her food. Harry glared at her.

"Well, not that I don't find Lily Potter's opinion of Harry's dating choices fascinating," Luc said, "but we need to decide on what we're going to do about the information Dumbledore provided us."

Fleur wiped her mouth with a napkin and conjured a glass of water, taking a sip before clearing her throat.

"We stopped by the library before we left. I copied the page that had his photo," she said, reaching into her robes and pulling out a rolled page. She handed it to Luc and he unrolled it gently.

"He's quite handsome, I'll give him that," he said. "Riddle was probably very popular with the ladies."

"Riddle isn't a wizarding name I've ever heard of," she pointed out, "so it's probably muggle. Perhaps we've been looking at this the wrong way."

Luc nodded, catching on to what she was getting at as he lowered the picture.

"Right, so maybe we need to track his family down in the muggle world. Or his records in the muggle world," he offered, reaching for another slice of pizza. "Really wish we had an intern right now."

"Why?" asked Fleur.

"Because research kind of stinks," Harry whined. He nodded towards Luc. "See if you can find the records from the orphanage he stayed at. He had to be registered somewhere."

"You know those aren't public records, right?" asked Luc.

Harry rolled his eyes, picking up his wand and waving it around casually.

"Are you a wizard or not?"

Luc shrugged and Harry turned to Fleur.

"You and I can hit up the muggle library. They keep digitized copies of old newspapers. We can try searching for mentions of the family between the years he started Hogwarts and now."

"That's a large time frame to look through," she pointed out.

Harry shrugged.

"Then I guess it's a good thing I'm currently unemployed."

.

.

Fleur sighed and placed her head on the table.

"You do this for a living?"

"Yep," Harry replied, popping the P at the end for emphasis as he clicked the button to move to the next screen.

"And you actually enjoy it?" she asked, flabbergasted.

"Yep."

"How?"

Harry shrugged and Fleur read the paper on the screen, scanning the contents for any mention of Tom Riddle. They'd set up camp at the library for several days, and after a brief demonstration by the helpful librarian on how to use the archive program on the first day, they'd started searching. Paper after paper. Without stopping. It was, in Fleur's estimation, just about the most bored she'd ever been.

"The research part might be a bit dull," Harry said, "but all of this work usually leads to me busting in on a bad guy and catching them with their hand in the cookie jar. It's a rush."

"It's boring," Fleur responded as she continued to scan the pages, sighing as she clicked the button to go to the next paper. She glared at the screen. "How does this stupid thing not have a search function?"

Harry laughed, so she turned her glare to him, causing his smile to instantly fall. Good.

"They just scan the newspaper," he said, "what you're looking at is basically just a picture."

She raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to scroll through the newest pages.

"How do you know all this?"

He shrugged again.

"My uncle Remus showed me how to use a computer years ago and my uncle Peter used to take me to the library when I was a kid. I liked to read when I was growing up, and my mum encouraged me to read whatever I thought sounded interesting."

She hit the button to move to the next paper and stopped, brow furrowing in frustration. She clicked the buttons to move backwards and forwards several times.

"There's an entire year of papers missing."

"Really?" he said, looking over at her screen, his own face breaking out into a frown. "Maybe ask the librarian?"

She nodded and got up, walking out of the room and into the main section of the building. Rows and rows of bookshelves lined the floor, all containing books of various types and genres. She approached the desk and smiled up at the man as he turned towards her.

"Hello again miss," he said. "Are you and your friend finding everything okay?"

She nodded.

"Yes, for the most part, but we've hit a bit of an issue," she said. "I was going through the records and noticed there was an entire year of missing papers."

He sighed and nodded sadly.

"Yeah, I figured that would happen eventually. The library used to keep papers at all the branches but there was no centralized system," he revealed. "About twenty…twenty five years ago there was a run of bad luck. Break ins and fires mostly, but we lost a chunk of the physical archive back then. They recovered what they could, and many community members donated what they had, but some of the older stuff just never got digitized."

Fleur frowned.

"Could it be possible that you might still have the physical copies?" she asked.

The man nodded and pulled open a drawer. He retrieved a key and handed it to her.

"There's a door in the room you two have setup in that leads into the physical copy room. Lots of laminated papers, though mostly just front pages, but there are some full copies in there." He chuckled. "It's gonna smell kind of stale in there, so apologies, but feel free to take a look. Like I said, most of what's in there is just laminated front pages, but have at it."

Fleur thanked the man and returned to the room. Harry looked up at her as she made her way towards the door at the corner of the room.

"Where are you headed?" he asked.

"They have physical copies in here," she replied as she turned the lock and opened the door. The light above flickered to life as soon as she opened the door. "The librarian said we might have some luck, though from the look of it we're going to be here a while."

Harry shrugged and turned back to the monitor.

"Who knows, maybe it'll be the first thing you find? Start with the year you're missing and go from there," he called to her as she disappeared into the room.

A short while later he heard footsteps running towards him and Fleur burst back into the room, slamming a laminated page onto the table next to him. Peering down at it his eyes widened in shock at the headline.

Grisly Triple Homicide At Local Manor

In a scene reminiscent of a horror film, police were dispatched to the local Riddle manor in Little Hangleton late yesterday night, after a local reported horrible screams coming from the property. What they found has left the community both shocked and puzzled, as the bodies of wealthy businessman Thomas Riddle, along with his wife Mary Riddle and their son Tom Riddle Sr, were found. Police have yet to comment, but reports have indicated there were no signs of a struggle or forced entry.

"Sweet Merlin," Harry whispered as he reread the headline, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his chin. "You think Riddle went back and killed his muggle family? The date on the paper puts this murder not long after he left Hogwarts."

Fleur grabbed another laminated page she had stuck under her arm, though Harry could see that the top of it was partially burnt and torn. She looked at the bottom half of the page.

"Listen to this," she said, "There's a followup two days later. 'Police have issued a statement saying that they have a suspect and are currently working to apprehend them. When pressed for how they have a suspect so soon, the police provided a photo of a message written on the wall within the manor.'"

She held out the page so he could read the message on the blurry photo.

YOU CAN HIDE IN PLAIN SIGHT AMONG THE DIRT, BUT NOT FROM ME

"That's a lot of anger right there," Harry said softly as he narrowed his eyes. "I've seen similar things."

Fleur raised an eyebrow at him.

"How often?"

"Not too often," he said as he rubbed his cheek. "Usually with crimes of passion where the perpetrator has a deep grudge against the victim." He pointed at the page. "This seems to line up with what Dumbledore told me. This probably happened after he left Burke's employ. He tracked down his muggle family, killed them, and then disappeared."

"But why?" Fleur asked. "Why go through all that trouble to murder muggles? Why leave the message?"

"Riddle grew up hating muggles. It's not out of character that he'd go after his own muggle family. Especially his family, if he felt they'd wronged him," replied Harry. "Grindelwald tolerated muggleborns as a necessary part of society, but he thought muggles were a stain on the whole world. Not a leap to think Riddle was of the same opinion."

Fleur bit her lip as she stared at the photo. She studied the dark letters on the wall as her mind turned over the implications in her mind. To hate your family so much was unfathomable to her. How had life and the words of a mad man twisted someone so much? And what about the message? Hiding in plain sight among the dirt? Did the dirt refer to muggles?

Fleur's eyes widened as she stood quickly.

"That's it!" she said, whirling around to look at Harry. "That's the answer."

"What is?" asked Harry.

She pointed at the screen.

"You can hide in plain sight among the dirt," she read again. "What do you think that means?"

Harry shrugged.

"My best guess is that dirt refers to muggles. So he probably tracked down his family, who were muggles and living among muggles, and murdered them."

She nodded.

"Exactly." She rubbed her forehead, unable to stop from mentally chastising herself for not seeing it sooner. "Don't you see, Harry? We can't find Riddle because we've been looking in the wrong location. He's not in our world, he's in the muggle world!"

Harry nodded slowly, though he nodded faster as the realization dawned on him.

"Hiding in plain sight," he whispered. "That's…actually a really great way to remain hidden from witches and wizards."

He looked up and locked eyes with Fleur.

"Let's find Luc and fill him in. Seems we'll be spending some time with the muggles."

Chapter Text

She squealed, dodging out of the way and attempting to run, but was caught. He bent down and grabbed her by the midsection, tossing her onto his shoulder in one smooth motion.

"Luc Bennet put me down this instant!" she laughed, punching him in the back softly.

"Not until you've paid the price for your cheek!" he said, spinning her around.

She laughed and tried to wiggle out of his arms, but he simply gripped her tighter. He slowed his turn and flipped her into his arms before he fell back to the soft grass. She giggled as she landed on top of him, her breath a bit faster than normal as they both tried to calm their racing hearts. She smiled and poked him in the nose.

"Hi," she said, propping herself up on her forearms directly on his chest.

"Hi," he returned with a smile.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Do you come here often?"

He shook his head.

"No, not really." His smile widened. "I generally only stop by to pick up sarcastic women who look good in purple."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so? Well, I happen to know someone like that."

"You do?" Luc teased. "Funny, I know someone like that too."

"Tell me about her," she teased, "perhaps I can introduce you."

Luc nodded, the smile and mischief in his eyes remaining. There was nothing he enjoyed more than coming to the spot where they'd met and acting like children without a care in the world. It held a significance neither could deny, so it always felt a bit like stepping back into their comfort zone. He took in her face, big blue eyes looking down at him, a smirk playing across her lips. There was beauty, yes, but he loved her because she was like life itself, a breath of fresh air in a world that could feel so suffocating.

"She's blonde, ultra sharp, looks great in heels, and is probably the funniest person I know," he said softly, tracing a finger down her cheek. "You might have seen her around. Her name is Fleur."

She swatted him in the chest and leaned up, straddling him before smacking him again. He laughed, holding his hands up in defeat, though she pinned his hands to the ground and stared directly into his eyes.

"Try again," she said in faux menace.

"Her name is Gabrielle Delacour," he whispered as he sat up and wrapped his arms around her. "And we're to be married."

He kissed her softly, the same way they'd kissed the night he'd proposed, the moon hanging overhead, framing her face in the most beautiful of light. She hadn't screamed and lept at him. Hadn't danced around in joy as she looked at the ring on her finger. Instead, she simply smiled at him, cupped his cheek, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

It was perfection, in his estimation.

"If we're to be married," she whispered as she looked away, "then why did you let me die?"

"What?" he asked, recoiling in shock.

In the blink of an eye the scene changed. The park was gone, replaced by an inferno that burned hot. The trees and grass had disappeared, replaced by burning wood and smoke. She was gone and he sat alone in the fire of the shop he knew so well. The place that had been burned into his memory like the smokey ashes of its remains. The place he saw whenever he slept. His eyes filled with tears.

"You let me die," her voice sounded from everywhere and nowhere. "You were supposed to protect me."

He let his head hang as the shame washed over him. He balled up his fists, opening and closing them as disgust followed the shame. Both squeezed his heart, tighter and tighter, until the pain was nearly unbearable. He tried to focus, find his center, but the hopelessness hit him like a hippogriff. He took several ragged breaths. It was all he could manage.

"I'm sorry," he said, broken.

"You never loved me!"

"No!" Luc yelled, head shooting up from the table as his eyes opened.

He paused. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession as he took in his surroundings. The tension in his shoulders released as reality broke through his imagination. He was still in the orphanage records room at the archive building. He sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow, pushing dark thoughts from the forefront of his mind.

The dreams were never the same, but they always made him feel like a failure. Like who he was couldn't measure up to what she had needed. Maybe if he had been smarter, faster, or more vigilant then she would still be alive. He shook his head and took a deep breath, shoving those thoughts into the recesses of his mind. He knew it wasn't true, but there wasn't anything anyone, not even Fleur, could say to him that would make those feelings go away completely.

The only thing that felt like it might was bringing her killer to justice.

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Dearest Gabby…" he whispered to himself. They were familiar words, shared between two people madly in love. So many letters written with the sentiment that he'd lost count. "I must look incredibly pathetic."

The small room was beginning to feel suffocating, so he stood and walked to the window. He slid the glass up just as the door opened. Fleur peeked inside then motioned for someone to join her, moving into the room. Harry followed close behind. She looked down at the mess of files and folders on the desk.

"Did you find anything?" she asked.

Luc took a deep breath before shaking his head and moving back towards the desk.

"Not really," he said, shuffling the papers to grab a few that held interest. "Some reports of people in funny clothes visiting children a handful of times. Likely Hogwarts checking in on new kids who hadn't responded to their letters. Haven't been able to find anything with the name Riddle though."

Fleur sat down in one of the chairs and picked up a sheet of paper.

"It was a long time ago, and there is a decent population size."

"Eh, I get the sense there's more to it," Luc said as he returned to his chair. "My gut says Riddle found a way to get his records removed. Or he simply removed them himself. If he's as brilliant as Albus Dumbledore thinks he is then I don't put it past him to erase himself from any sort of orphan registration."

"Maybe he destroyed his records then went on to kill his family?" Harry posed.

Luc shrugged then froze.

"Wait, what? He killed his family? Sounds like you two had more luck."

Fleur smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, we think we know where he's based."

Luc opened his eyes wide. That was quick. Far quicker than he'd anticipated they'd find anything. If he were being honest with himself, he thought they'd be at this for weeks, not days. He was sure Harry had prepared for that eventuality as well, so this was a stroke of incredibly good luck.

"Spill it," he said.

"The muggle world," Fleur said before launching into a full explanation of the Riddle family murder and the message written on the wall.

Luc rubbed his chin and leaned in his chair, pushing it onto its back legs. He rocked back and forth as he thought, contemplating the story.

"Hiding in the muggle world," he muttered, voicing his thoughts aloud. "That's actually a really great way to hide from witches and wizards."

"That's what I said!" Harry called with a smile, leaning towards Luc to give him a high five.

Fleur rolled her eyes.

"In any case," she said, cutting into the smug looks Harry and Luc were giving each other, "we need to figure out where. If he's in the muggle world then he's got to be doing something there. He's clearly not in business here."

"Don't you know the muggle world, Harry?" asked Luc.

"Not as well as my mum or uncles," Harry said before slapping himself on the forehead. "My uncle Remus and Peter might be able to point us in the right direction. Luckily, I'm having dinner with them next week."

Luc nodded. Asking wizards who know the muggle world better than the average magical user was a good plan, though he wondered what they would do if the idea didn't lead them in the right direction. He looked down at the papers, thoughts going back to a dark wizard who effectively erased his presence from the British wizarding world.

He looked over at his two companions and took in their postures. He nearly smiled at the way they leaned into each other without thinking. How their hands touched unconsciously as they shuffled through the papers on the desk. He nearly frowned at the gestures, ones made by two people who had clearly gotten it bad for the other but not yet realized it, because they made him think of his Gabby.

He turned and looked out the window as a wistful look passed through his features.

"Dearest Gabby…" he whispered again, "what do I do?"

"What was that?" Fleur asked.

He smiled and looked back at her, knowing she could tell what he was feeling. They'd known each other for so long that they'd become like siblings. It was difficult to hide things from your older sister, even adopted ones. Especially if they had a mind as sharp as Fleur's. She could read him like a book.

"I know a bloke who works for the muggle police. A squib," he announced. "He owes me some favors. Think I'll pay him a visit."

"What are you going to do?" asked Harry.

"I'm going to go through unsolved theft cases dating back over the last ten years. See if I can't find anything odd that the muggles don't recognize as magic. Until you talk with your uncles we're at a bit of a standstill."

Fleur nodded. "I do need to get back to work as well."

Luc made a shooing motion with his hand.

"Well get out of here, I'll clean this up," he said as he took out his wand to begin organizing the papers.

As they piled themselves into neat stacks and placed themselves into the various cardboard boxes he'd taken them from, his thoughts turned back to Gabby once more.

Perhaps he'd take a trip back to France before visiting his contact here in London.

He could use a walk through the park.

.

.

Harry looked around the pub, scanning the tables before finding them, smiling and making his way over. He let a couple pass him headed towards the bar before he reached the table, a smile remaining on his face.

"Harry, it's great to see you," said Remus, wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug.

The two released and Harry hugged the other man with one arm.

"Uncle Remus, uncle Peter," he said as they sat down, Peter catching the bartender's attention and calling for another pint. "It's been far too long."

"And who's fault is that?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow, tilting his own pint back to take another sip.

"Here you go, love," the bartender said, placing a glass in front of Harry. "What'll it be?"

"Uh, fish and chips?" he asked.

"Coming right up," she said with a nod before heading away from the table.

Harry turned towards Remus.

"So, how are things with the Foundation?"

Remus sighed, rubbing his face tiredly, but a smile played across his face. After a brief stint working at Hogwarts during Harry's time at the school, Remus had found himself aimless, unable to find work after his affliction had become public knowledge. Luckily, Dumbledore, in combination with the rest of the school staff, had exercised rarely-used executive powers in the school charter to open a foundation for muggleborn students. The purpose of the foundation was to help those who are new to magic have a more seamless transition into the world, so that they started Hogwarts with at least some additional help.

Remus had been chosen to operate the foundation, though there had been an outcry at first. Years later, the general public seemed to accept that Remus was a good man who had been wronged by Malfoy and his cronies, though nobody had been willing to rectify that wrong.

"The board of governors finally approved sending muggleborns their Hogwarts letters eight months in advance, so we're hoping that will ease some of the frenzy we normally get right before the school year starts," Remus explained. "Overall though, business as usual."

"Oh, come now Moony," Peter chimed in, "you're just being modest. Tell the boy the best new addition to the program."

Remus rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment before looking over at Harry.

"I explained to the Hogwarts staff that, with letters going out early and our staff's largest burden being assisting muggle families with tasks just before school starts, we have an opportunity to offer classes to those who are interested."

"What kind of classes?" Harry asked as he sipped his pint. The bartender placed his food in front of him and patted him on the shoulder before going back to the bar.

"Just the basics of the wizarding world. How our money works. Where our major shopping districts are. What we do for fun. A broad overview of the Ministry. Things like that."

Harry nodded as he dug into his plate, glaring at Peter as the man swiped a chip.

"What did they say?" he asked.

"They loved the idea," Moony said with a smile. "Your mother was especially thrilled. Said it took her longer than she'd have liked to get some of the smaller details down when she first got her letter, so having a program like that will help immensely."

"And you'll get to teach again," Harry said with a big smile. "Despite your best attempts at hiding it, I know you've missed it."

Remus nodded.

"You're not wrong there. I think it'll be fun." He laughed and pointed at Wormtail from behind his pint. "This one is abandoning me though."

"Oh?" Harry asked, looking at Peter. "What's that mean?"

Peter shrugged.

"Potions business is picking up," he said casually, swiping another one of Harry's chips. "Skilled brewers are difficult to find, and somehow people keep finding out I'm still around."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you only did that to cover your remaining bills? Last time we talked you said you didn't want more clients. That your coffee shop was the more interesting part."

"It was," Peter said with a smile. "I love that place. Bought the building with every pound I had after finishing Hogwarts and built it from the ground-up. But when St. Mungos sends a representative to your door asking about setting up a contract, you can't just ignore them."

"No shit?"

Peter nodded.

"Yeah, they stopped by the shop last week." Peter leaned back in his chair and locked his arms behind his head. "They've started supplying clinics throughout the country with potions to help spread out where people can go for help. Trying to get healers in every major city access to enough basics to treat most injuries, but they need more people who can brew some of the more complicated draughts."

He sighed and looked at Harry with mock anger.

"I'm pretty sure your dad tipped them off about my little operation. They said the O I got in potions on both my OWLs and NEWTs meant I was a prime candidate to help them out. The contract was also very generous. Damn Prongs, taking me away from my shop."

Harry laughed and shook his head. Peter had always loved his little slice of the muggle world, preferring the art of perfecting a cup of coffee to the magical world, yet his skills with potions was undeniable. He'd been privately brewing for his friends for years, expanding to just a few paying clients as time went on. Never enough to pull him from behind the counter at The Lion's Roar though.

"Swap his vitamin potion for that hair colour potion the Weasley twins cooked up last year," Harry suggested, eliciting a laughter from both men.

"Oh, that's a great idea," Peter said with a wide smile. "The best part is that they can make it mimic the effects of a vitamin potion for the first twelve hours before the hair changes. Thanks, Harry."

Harry nodded and wiped his mouth on his napkin.

"I try my best," he said before looking at both men with a furrowed brow. "I have a question for both of you."

Remus frowned.

"Sounds serious," he said before sighing. "I'm glad your godfather wasn't around to hear that."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Hypothetical question," he continued. "If you wanted to go into the muggle world and start up a business, what would you go into?" He held up a hand as Peter opened his mouth. "Not something you're passionate about, though. Something that would make you money."

Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Padfoot told us what happened," he said, "you're not thinking about skipping out on us, right kid?"

Harry shook his head. He was touched by their concern, it spoke to how much they cared for him, but he couldn't tell them the real reason he was asking. His mum may be willing to keep their secret, but there was no way Moony or Wormtail would do the same. They'd been through too much with Sirius and James to withhold anything relating to him.

"Nothing like that, I promise," he said with a smile. "I've just been hanging around the muggle world a bit lately, what with the no job thing and all, and I was curious what someone with talent and some startup capital could do to make money there."

"Real estate," his uncles said at the same time.

Remus nodded.

"Yeah, real estate would be your best bet. Housing prices are going up but demand has also been rising. I've heard some of the muggle families I've visited telling me they've changed careers to be agents. There's a lot to be made there. The biggest firms take in very high profits and their executives live like kings."

"I've gotten several offers for my building," Peter added. "They've offered several times what I paid for it years ago. I'd make quite a bit of money if I accepted, but the cost of buying or leasing another place would be incredibly steep. It does seem a bit predatory, though. These big firms buy up land from small owners like me to sell for much more than they bought. Or they buy up all the places around and then slowly push you out."

"What's that company that made a splash a decade or so ago?" Remus asked Peter. "They were funded by some reclusive muggle and bought a bunch of big buildings downtown?"

"Ah, you're talking about Salazar Family Brokerage," Peter said, raising his finger when he remembered the name. "Yeah, they're owned by some old money muggle family, though I don't think anyone's ever met the owner. I think they might be American? They've been one of the leading companies buying people out and making huge windfalls on the resales. They own several of the buildings around my shop."

Harry bit his lip as he processed the information and took a deep breath to keep his reaction neutral. In his experience, there were no such things as coincidences. A big muggle real estate company named after one of the founders of Hogwarts? One that's owned by someone nobody has ever met? He'd learned long ago to trust his instincts, and every part of him was saying to do so. He'd need to talk to Fleur and Luc. They could get addresses to the buildings and go check them out.

He emptied the remainder of his glass and raised an eyebrow at Wormtail.

"Your round?"

"Yeah, nice try kid," Peter said, "you bailed on us a few weeks ago so you owe us. Besides, I beat your ass at darts the last time we were here, so you owe me two rounds."

Harry put his hand over his heart.

"That hurts uncle Peter." He sighed dramatically. "Your nephew is without a job and you're making him pay for rounds?"

"You're damn right I am, now get your arse over to the bar."

.

.

Harry took a drink of his coffee, savouring the taste as they walked. It hadn't taken them long to find the addresses for properties owned by Salazar Family Brokerage, though that had presented its own problems. The company owned a massive amount of the London business district, including some of the largest ones in the city. Making matters worse, the company's headquarters were listed as a simple post box, not an actual building. So Luc had suggested they get off their collective arses and simply take a look.

"Hey, we went to that place for dinner one time," he pointed out, waving casually at the restaurant behind them.

"Oh, they had fantastic French dishes," Fleur gushed before pointing next to it. "And that was the dessert place we stopped at after."

"Both are owned by this real estate company," Luc said, looking down at the addresses on the page. "This company must be flush with a ridiculous amount of money."

Harry furrowed his brow in concentration. They came to a stop at a crossroads, the intersection of several towering skyscrapers, interspersed with smaller buildings around them. The entire area they were in seemed to be owned by one company, though how much of a hand in their ownership was unknown. Perhaps they were just a holding company that made money off rent?

"It's going to be impossible to find anything if we don't come up with a plan," Fleur said, voicing Harry's next thoughts for him.

He looked down at the list in her hands, scanning the building names and addresses. Beside each address was one of three categorizations: corporate, commercial, leisure. This indicated what type of business was within, or which type dominated the space. They hadn't been able to get a complete list of business names, so this had to do.

"Perhaps we could try classifying them? Separate the list between large and small businesses?" he proposed.

"We could try looking at just one category at a time," Fleur suggested.

Harry snapped his fingers.

"We should try some detection spells. Look for magic."

Fleur shook her head.

"No, that won't work," she said. "There's magic everywhere. Witches and wizards come and go from the muggle world regularly, even if it's in small numbers. Additionally, the Ministry works with the muggle government, and they've placed apparition points all throughout the city with subtle notice-me-not wards."

"Hmmm," Harry mumbled. "Maybe we should go back to the government office and look through business registrations for all the businesses around here."

"Or maybe," Luc cut in, looking back at them and pointing across the street, "we just check out the building with the statue out front that looks just like our guy."

They froze and their eyes went to the piece in question. Harry squinted. Even with his glasses, at this distance, it was difficult to see the details, but from what he could see, Luc was right. The statue did have a passing resemblance. They moved quickly, crossing the street, avoiding a crowd of tourists before they were in front of the statue. With a good look, Harry's eyes widened.

Right in the middle of muggle London was a statue of Tom Riddle, there was no denying it. Older than his picture from Hogwarts, sure, but the facial features were undeniable. The strong jawline and broad shoulders were there, and while it was made of bronze, the eyes still felt as if they held that piercing quality that had stared back at him from the page.

"Salazar's Heir. Started with nothing but dirt until he dug himself out and grabbed his destiny," Fleur read from the plaque at the statue's base. She looked back at them. "This is most certainly Tom Riddle."

Harry looked over at the side of the building and read the sign.

"It says this entire building is for a financial firm." The area was busy, people going in and out of the building, all dressed sharply. He gestured for them to follow him as he moved towards the entrance. "Let's go inside."

As he pushed into the building the air changed, charged with the energy of everyone inside. The first level was busy, business people chatting on their mobile devices or walking quickly to the elevators. There was a line of seats at the far side of the room and a small deli packed with people.

It was so…normal. Nothing like he'd expected. Subtly he withdrew his wand and performed several diagnostic spells before hiding it once more. Odd.

"There aren't any wards here," he said in a hushed voice, though it was unlikely anyone would hear him anyway. They all seemed occupied.

Fleur raised an eyebrow.

"None?"

He shook his head.

"Not the usual ones at least. You can portkey and apparate in and out of this place all day long."

"It's a muggle business, that's not entirely unheard of," Luc pointed out. "Even if it's a front, dropping wards over the whole building would draw attention. Perhaps we'll find something if we go higher?"

"Does this place seem extra busy?" Fleur asked.

Harry shrugged, unsure, and turned towards the elevators. He made it a few paces before a man nearly knocked him over. Harry stumbled but righted himself before he could fall to the ground. As he stood to his full height he sent the man a smile.

"My apologies," Harry said.

The man spared him a brief look before simply turning away, continuing to move towards the exit. That's when Harry felt it and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Magic, the first he'd felt, came rolling off the stranger as they continued to get further away. Harry stilled, concentrating on the departing figure to ensure what he felt was real.

"Did you two…"

"Yeah, we did," Luc confirmed, looking around.

Harry let his senses wander, taking several deep breaths as Fleur and Luc split off in their own directions. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, recalling the techniques he'd been taught to feel the magic around him. Those in the magical world were exposed to so much magic on a daily basis that their minds simply ignored it most of the time. A necessity, for sure, as the amount of spells, enchantments, and wards they lived with was enough to overwhelm even the most well trained among them.

He quieted his mind and stripped away the filter that had built up over the years. As his own aura flared he felt a subtle darkness around him, hanging around like a cloud on an overcast day. He tried to find a source, only to realize there was none. It was everywhere. He opened his eyes and looked around, taking in the details of the people working there. He studied them and his eyes widened slowly at what he saw.

The feel of the magic that emanated from them. Impossibly subtle. The way they walked. Perfectly, without distinction. The way they moved their arms. Ever-so-slightly stilted. The look in their eyes. Focused, but not quite.

He'd seen this before.

In victims who'd been placed under the Imperius curse.

His mouth fell at the realization and he looked around wildly. His eyes found Luc's and he waved the man over. Luc nodded towards Fleur across the room and she followed. Harry's heart raced as another person under the unforgivable passed by him.

"Do you guys feel this?" He hissed to his companions.

"Something's off with the employees," Luc said. "They're muggles, but there's magic coming off them. Not just stray magic, something within them."

"They're all under the Imperius," Harry hissed.

Luc and Fleur gasped. They both turned around sharply, scanning the room, looking from person to person, trying to push through the buzzing of energy in the room. Harry pulled the filter back up, cutting himself off from the magic once more. People were noisy, he'd found that out years ago and he's been thankful for the unconscious filter.

"Feel it Luc," he said, "the magic is focused on their heads. Look at how they walk. How their arms move. Look into their eyes."

"Bloody hell," the Frenchman said, covering his mouth with his hand. "How?"

"How is this possible?" Fleur said, expanding on Luc's question.

"I don't know, but let's come back tonight," Harry suggested. "There's too many people here, but we might be able to find what's causing it if we're alone."

.

.

The lobby was empty when they entered the building under the cover of darkness, a quick tap on a side entrance and they were in. The atmosphere from before was gone, the lack of people making the air feel strangely stilted. Yet, the faint hint of darkness remained. Fleur and Luc waved their wands on wide arcs, different colour lights flashing before changing again. They both frowned as they swept the first level.

Harry took another look around. Something was off.

"Nothing," Luc said, frustrated. "There's nothing here."

"Shall we go up?" Fleur asked, pointing towards the lift.

"This building has ten levels," Harry pointed out.

She rolled her eyes.

"Then we'd better get started."

They moved as one, exiting the elevator at each level before fanning out to sweep for magic. They found frustratingly little, though there was magic. Idly, Harry noted as they left the lift on the fifth level, the same subtle dark cloud hung over everything. It was difficult to feel, only there if he concentrated, but it was there nonetheless.

The lift dinged as they reached the final level, opening to reveal a wide space leading to a single set of solid wooden doors. Harry took a deep breath, concentrating momentarily as they stepped into the room. The darkness has gotten muddled the further up they'd gone, and it was nearly gone entirely now.

"Still no wards," Luc noted as they reached the doors. "This feels like a trap."

Harry nodded, his gut telling him the same thing, screaming at him to turn around.

"Agreed," he said.

Fleur raised an eyebrow.

"What should we do?" she questioned.

He smirked at her.

"Spring the trap."

He and Luc each opened one of the doors, revealing a large office with an unobstructed view of the city before them. Along the right wall of the room were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, rows of neatly placed books within them. In front of the shelves was a wide oak desk littered with parchment and open books, their pages yellowed and fraying from time. The left side of the room stretched further back, a divider blocking most of their immediate view but there was a faint glow peaking above it.

Yet their eyes were drawn forward to the tall figure standing with his back to them. His high-class, tailored robes were coloured a deep emerald green and accented in silver trim. His hands were clasped behind his back as he looked out over the city. He made no move as they entered and seemed unconcerned that strangers had broken into his office, as if such things were of no consequence.

There was no surge of power or darkness emanating from him. No coil of evil wrapping itself around his aura like a snake. He seemed altogether normal. Harry's shoulder tensed as a ball of uncertainty landed in his stomach, unsure of the threat that stood before them.

The man turned around and smiled, inclining his head slightly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter, Ms. Delacour, and Mr. Bennet. My name is Tom Riddle. I believe you've been looking for me."

Chapter Text

None of them moved, frozen in place by the casual nature of Riddle's greeting. His smile was pleasant and the look on his face was one of amusement, as if he'd heard the punchline to a joke the rest of the room wasn't privy to. Yet Harry looked into his eyes and saw another story. Behind those dark brown eyes there was a storm raging.

Harry tightened the grip on his wand and his body tensed. There was danger in those eyes.

"Come now," Riddle said with a wave of his hand, breaking the tense silence that had followed his greeting. "Surely you can't be that surprised?"

"How is it you knew we were searching for you?" Harry asked.

Riddle shrugged, though even that gesture was one of a trained aristocrat.

"There are rats and loose lips in every corner, Mr. Potter," he replied with another smirk. "It just takes the right motivation, the right incentive, and you can get someone to tell you what you need to know."

Riddle gestured towards Fleur and Luc.

"I've known these two were searching for me for ages. It's been quite amusing, watching them feel around in the dark."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You've got contacts within my department?"

"I've got contacts everywhere, Mr. Potter," Tom said. He turned back around and gestured to the city skyline. "Out there you'll find people from all walks of life, from varying backgrounds, all willing to exchange information for coins. Or status. Or trinkets. It's simply a matter of finding what that something is."

He turned back around and smiled another charming smile, wagging his finger in Harry's direction.

"You, Harry, may I call you Harry?" He didn't wait for a reply. "You have been absolutely fascinating to watch. Your performance at the Nott manor was impressive, though I was, I'll admit, a bit heartbroken that a certain hooded thief interrupted the festivities."

He looked at Fleur with a smile and winked before returning his attention to Harry.

"But to my great joy, another opportunity presented itself when Regulus Black thought he could take a path that was never truly in front of him." He shook his head and looked down, frowning. "Regulus was always too quick to trust. Such a shame what happened to him. That he died for a lie."

"What?" Harry asked, unable to contain his curiosity. Everything in him was screaming that they were in danger, but he felt compelled to ask.

"Oh, did you not know?" Riddle asked, a surprised look settling on his face. "Rabastan was going to bring Regulus to me once he showed his true allegiances."

He leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Just between us, I wasn't going to let either of them live, so your little raid did me a favor."

He stood back to his full height quickly and his eyes lit with excitement. He looked at Harry for a long moment, studying him. His eyes made Harry squirm and his skin crawl.

"That performance you gave in the greenhouse? That was as close to perfection as I've ever seen. You were an agent of chaos, a God of destruction, and for a brief, fleeting moment, you reached your true potential." He nodded his head as if agreeing with himself. "At first I was furious at the loss of Bellatrix. She was incredibly useful, you see, and replacing her will be a long task, but then I met with Rudolphus. He explained about your little message, also brilliant by the way, and seeing what you did brought more joy than the last Lestrange's screams as I pulled the memory from his head."

His smile fell and he frowned.

"But then you broke out of it. She broke you out of it," he spat, glaring at Fleur, "and you were yourself again. No longer the height of power, just normal. Mundane. Boring."

Harry glanced at Luc and saw the man's knuckles were white from gripping his wand so tightly. He shook slightly in barely-contained rage, and Harry knew it wouldn't be long before his friend burst. It would be fast and violent. It would be the greenhouse all over again, except Luc would be at the center of the storm. He cast his eye at Fleur and saw…nothing. She held her wand as she normally did, but her face was a stony mask. There was nothing in her expression or her eyes, all emotions had been locked away. She caught his eye and made no indication of how she felt, simply turning back to Riddle.

Both of his companions were teetering on the edge.

"How is it you're able to have everyone here under the Imperius curse?" asked Harry.

"It's quite easy if the mind is weak, Mr. Potter. I dare say, these muggles are ter-"

"Why?" Fleur interrupted, her voice low and methodic.

Tom raised an eyebrow.

"Why what, Ms. Delacour?" he asked.

"Why did you do it?" she clarified.

"You'll need to be more specific, Ms. Delacour," he replied. His voice was still pleasant, but Harry detected a dangerous undertone to it. "I've done quite a bit in my time. What, specifically, are you referring to?"

"Why did you kill my sister?" she growled.

"Ah, right. That unfortunate business," Riddle said with a sigh. "You had stolen something I needed and refused to give it back. I thought you would have been smart enough to realize what you'd taken and return it. Sadly, I turned out to be wrong. I briefly contemplated giving the French Ministry information on you, but that may have invited unneeded eyes looking in my direction. Even giving them the information anonymously seemed…unnecessary. You weren't a threat, not really. Instead, to remove you from my path, I took from you."

He looked at Luc.

"And you as well, I suppose."

"Why was what she took so important?" asked Harry.

His words had stopped Luc's forward movement. He almost hadn't caught it, but he saw the shift in posture and knew the taller man was about to strike. Harry wanted to take Riddle down, though not nearly as much as the two beside him. Regardless, he needed to get a confession for everything. Riddle clearly thought a lot about himself, and perhaps he could back it up, but Harry wasn't going to take any chances. He'd been doing this for years, and his experience knew what to do.

Bad guys loved to hear themselves talk, especially when they thought they could escape. They were, at the end of the day, the heroes of their own stories. Harry just needed to keep him talking. Keep Riddle talking long enough that he laid out everything for them. The best way to make that happen was to push the man into a classic move.

Time for a monologue.

Riddle tapped his chin in contemplation at Harry's words, giving a long pause as lost himself in thought.

"I suppose there's no harm in telling you," he said after several moments, giving a gleeful smile. "None of you will be leaving the room alive, after all."

He walked over to the bookshelves and reached for one of the smaller tombs, cracking it open and smiling down at the pages. He ran his hand down the yellowed page with fond care.

"Grindelwald was brilliant," he stated, looking up at Harry with a look that was almost daring him to disagree. "Do you know what he lacked?"

"A sense of style?" Harry guessed.

"Subtlety," Riddle corrected with a scowl. He snapped the book shut. "He was a blunt instrument with no finesse. He had the right idea, despite being far less grand than they should have been, but the way he went about things? Bah, such an inelegant solution to a most complex problem."

"And what problem is that?" asked Harry.

Riddle rolled his eyes as he placed the book down on the desk and returned to the window, gesturing out into the city.

"You're smarter than that my dear Harry, but I'll indulge you. Mudbloods are the problem, of course. They taint our world with their mere presence, infesting it with their dirty blood. Muggles are weak and mudbloods are a byproduct of that weakness. Grindelwald lacked the vision to see that."

Harry frowned at the hypocrisy of the statement. Tom Riddle was the result of the union between a muggle man and a witch. Despite his belief that muggles were weak, he wouldn't be alive today if it hadn't been for a muggle. That had always been the true problem with the idea of blood supremacy, at least in Harry's opinion. People like Hermione and his mother both showed what muggleborns were capable of, and both were far more talented than the vast majority of purebloods he knew.

"So, what are you going to do? Kill them all one at a time?" asked Harry. "Started with your muggle family years ago and have been going down the list ever since?"

For just the briefest of moments, less than a heartbeat, Harry thought he saw surprise flash through the other man's face before it faded. He smiled again and waved his hand.

"Nothing quite so crude, I assure you." Riddle sighed as he turned away and began looking out the window again. The fact that he left his back exposed truly showed how little he considered them a threat. "Though I am impressed that you worked out the family connection. I removed any information regarding those events from our world, but it seems I didn't pay enough attention to the muggle world. I didn't think enough had been reported to connect the dots, but it seems I was mistaken."

He gave a low chuckle.

"My father and his parents were merely a test run, a trial for a much larger goal. Their deaths sated my anger for a time, however. Their screams were…delectable." The pleasure in his voice was evident as he thought about the act. "Once I had confirmation of my idea it was time to begin preparing. Finding research materials, speaking with people who knew the magic that could create what I wanted. Decades of preparation to finally realize my goals. To do what Grindelwald couldn't."

"And what goal is that?" Harry questioned.

Riddle turned around and sent him a bored look, as if it were obvious.

"Why the complete eradication of mudbloods, of course."

"And these items you've been smuggling have something to do with that?" Harry asked, trying to hide his unease at the other man's proclamation. The tension in his body was amplified by the casual decision to murder innocents.

"Smuggling is such a harsh term, don't you think?" Riddle responded. "I like to think of it as a reallocation of items into the possession of someone who can make full use of their nature across international borders."

He began to pace back and forth.

"It took me so long to find something that could accomplish what I needed on such a scale. Grindelwald tolerated mudbloods, his hatred of muggles was far greater, but he didn't have the knowledge or willpower to do what was necessary and simply wipe them out. So I studied. Learned. Twisted ancient magics in ways they were not intended to be used, all in service of my purpose. The items I procured, and continue to procure, are necessary to enact the plan."

He stopped pacing and gave Harry a smile.

"Soon, soon it will be ready. I've prepared nearly everything, and once it's done? Once I'm ready? It will be beautiful."

He was crazy. That was the only explanation Harry could think to explain the madness of what he was hearing. A spell or form of magic that could kill muggleborns? He'd never heard of such a thing, and he'd seen some of the darkest arts known to man. Torture, sacrifice, blood magic. He'd seen it all in his time as an Auror. What Tom Riddle was proposing simply didn't exist.

"Is that why you killed her?" Fleur asked, her face still blank, devoid of emotion. "Did I steal something you needed for your little ritual?"

Riddle smiled.

"Yes, or rather, I thought so at the time."

"What?" Fleur said, eyes widening.

"At the time I believed what you took from me to be the centerpiece of my little ritual, as you put it," he replied casually. "After I found where you stashed it and retrieved it from that person I realized that it was not, in fact, the piece I needed."

"You mean to say," Fleur gasped. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. "That my sister's life meant nothing? That her murder meant nothing?"

"Oh, my dear half-breed," Riddle said with a chiding note in his voice, "your sister's life never meant anything."

Luc roared and lunged forward, raising his wand and firing spells rapidly. Riddle moved faster than Harry had seen anyone move, drawing his wand as if from nowhere and casually knocking aside everything that he'd been assaulted with. He jabbed his wand in Luc's direction and caught the man in the shoulder, stopping his forward momentum and forcing him back.

Harry reacted and pivoted, sending a series of his own spells towards Riddle. With the skill of a trained duelist Riddle spun and ducked out of the way, avoiding every jet that had been sent. He made a zig zag motion with his wand and several large books flew from the bookshelves. They enlarged and grew wide, sharp mouths from their pages. They turned towards Harry and began sending purple light at him.

He blocked the first light and stepped away from the second, noticing the acidic burn that it left in the wall as he continued to dodge. With a quick twirl of his wand he sent a burst of charged air spinning at the books. Two of them went high, avoiding the whirlwind of air, but the remaining were caught in its gail. He arched his wand in a circular motion before stabbing it downward and the tornado caught on fire. An unearthly scream erupted from the books as they were engulfed in flame.

Fleur's wail of despair caught his attention as she lifted her wand and began dueling Riddle alongside Luc. The momentary distraction cost Harry as he felt an impact on his shoulder before it burned hot. He tore off his robe and threw it to the ground, thankful that the acidic light had only touched his skin briefly. He rolled under the barrage from the remaining two books as he heard Fleur cry out in pain, but had no time to check.

He popped up and sent a stunner at one book. The unexpected nature of the spell caught it and sent it to the ground. A quick fireball burned it. He shielded against the remaining book before a jet of water shot from his wand, soaking the paper. It sputtered as its pages stuck together, unable to form the proper shape to continue its assault. Harry put extra force behind a blasting hex and the book was thrown against the shelf, exploding into several pieces.

He turned towards the battle and noticed that Luc and Fleur were doing more dodging and shielding than anything. They needed help, but more importantly, they needed to retreat or they'd soon go down. He stepped forward and began drawing several runes on the floor with his wand, muttering the words to the spell as he did.

"Oh no you don't," Riddle snarled before slamming his wand tip into the ground.

A bright light shined and the last thing Harry saw before covering his face was the sight of Luc being thrown through the divider on the left side of the room.

.

.

Ringing.

That was the first thing Luc noticed as he came to. The ringing in his ears was deafening, muting all other sounds as his vision spun. He sat up slowly, wincing as he felt a sharp pain in his back and leg. He reached down and felt his thigh, coming away with blood. The ringing was overwhelming as he tried to get his bearings. He could vaguely hear the muffled sounds of shouting, but everything was still spinning slightly.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to call on the training he'd left behind so long ago. He'd gladly given up the life of an Auror for Gabby, unwilling to see her worry for his safety every time he left for work. She never asked him to give it up, she would never have forced him to do such a thing, but the offer to play quidditch had lit up her eyes in a way that made him soar.

Now, faced with her killer and his calm, aloof thoughts on murdering an innocent, Luc cursed himself for ever giving up the training.

He took several more breaths and opened his eyes. The room was no longer spinning but he had a pounding headache. He saw Fleur and Harry still fighting, though he could tell Fleur had been injured by the way she moved. They needed to escape. If they stayed then they would die. He began to get up but paused as he looked to his right. There was a column, a support beam for the floor with its metal exposed. Carved into the floor and extending up to the bottom of the column was a hexagon.

At the point of each hexagon was a series of runes enclosed in a circle. Outside of each circle was another set of runes running all around it. In the middle of the hexagon were two items, one a bronze statue of a horse and the other what appeared to be an effigy made of twigs.

Luc has never seen the runes before, but he'd never been particularly strong at ancient runes. He studied them for several moments, trying to commit them to memory. They weren't just drawn, but rather etched into the floor and column. A cry from Harry broke his concentration and he turned back.

Fleur had dropped to her knees and Harry was struggling to maintain his own footing. Luc clenched his jaw. They needed to get out of here. The three of them were clearly not enough, and they had badly underestimated Tom Riddle. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small vial, its green liquid sloshed as he shook it. He tapped his wand to the glass twice and it glowed. He shook it again, and the liquid sloshed once more, this time glowing brighter.

He stood, his knees buckling before he steadied himself. He turned towards Riddle and tossed the vial directly at him. The man turned towards him and, with a slash of his wand, the vial exploded. A heavy mist covered the room.

"Arg!" shouted Riddle.

Luc apparated to Harry and Fleur, gripping both of them tightly. They looked exhausted, and Harry had a wound on the side of his neck. He nodded numbly at Luc. Just as the mist cleared they popped away with a loud crack.

They fell into his flat with another loud sound and he let go of his companions. Harry collapsed instantly as Luc scrambled into the corner. He reached the runestone and tapped his wand to it twice. His anti-portkey and anti-apparition wards slammed into place as the stone began to pulse a faint orange.

With great effort he sighed and fell against the wall, the solid surface catching his back. He took a deep breath. His heart ached. He'd confronted Gabby's killer and been utterly unprepared. Luck had been on their side and the only reason they were alive.

Luc looked at Fleur and his heart broke. She was defeated, utterly and completely. It hurt to see her so devoid of life, and he knew Riddle's words had hit her even harder than they had enraged him. He stood up, walked the short distance to her, and dropped to his knees.

He wrapped his arms around her and she froze at the contact. After just an instant the tension broke and a cry escaped her lips.

.

.

She felt Luc's arms wrap around her and the breath caught in her throat. She knew what he was telling her. He was saying that it was okay. That she didn't have to be strong. That she could let out everything she'd bottled up upon opening the doors and seeing Tom Riddle's face.

A cry escaped her lips as the grief overwhelmed her. She clung to him with desperation, afraid that if she let go her emotions would carry her away. She cried, for the first time since that day in Paris, she let her control slip completely and cried. She cried for the loss of her sister. She cried for Luc, the love of his life having been taken from him. She cried for the pain that she'd inflicted upon Harry in her quest for justice.

Mostly, however, she cried because she was afraid. Tom Riddle's depth and breadth of knowledge was matched only by his skills with a wand. What he'd displayed had shaken her to her very core, upsetting the balance within her that she'd carefully maintained her entire life. For years she had expected to confront the person who had caused her so much hurt and would require nothing more than a wave of her wand to dispatch them. She had been a fool.

She'd looked into the face of the evil that had killed her sister and it looked back at her, not with the twisted ugliness of a demon, but with a casual smile.

Fear gripped her as her sobs echoed in the room. She wasn't afraid of Tom Riddle, not in the same way that others no doubt were. She wasn't afraid that he'd end her life. She'd been prepared to give her life for this quest for a long time. What scared her was the thought that she would fail, meet her sister on the other side, and be met with nothing but a disgusted look.

She felt another hand fall upon her shoulder and looked up to see Harry's tired eyes looking down at her. He smiled a sad smile, not one of pity, but one of understanding.

"We haven't lost yet," he said softly.

Fleur nodded and released Luc, wiping at her face in an attempt to gain some control over herself. The tears kept falling and both of the men understood her sorrow. She let go of her anchor and allowed herself to swim in her grief, wiping her face several times as the tears began to slow. Her head stayed above the water of the feelings and her breath returned to her. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she wiped her face and no tears were left.

She sat back against the sofa and sighed. She looked at Luc and saw him running his wand along his leg, muttering the words to a basic healing spell.

"We were unprepared," she said, though her throat was dry and hoarse. A glass of water appeared in front of her. Fleur looked up and took the glass from Harry's outstretched hand, giving him a weak smile before placing it against her lips. The cool liquid felt nice against her throat.

"We were," Harry agreed as he sat back down, back resting against the fireplace. He closed his eyes briefly, and Fleur noticed that the cut on his neck had been sealed. "I don't think any of us expected Tom Riddle to be…that."

"The way he spoke, as if we were friends, it was chilling," Luc voiced from his spot on the floor. "The way he talked about taking lives, with such a…casual disregard was sickening."

"He treats people's lives as if they're nothing more than toys," Harry said. "He's crazy, a sociopath even, but he's far more dangerous than we thought. Dumbledore was right about one thing, Tom Riddle is brilliant. You can see it in his eyes. His skills were far beyond just the three of us."

"We'll need more help," Fleur said, putting to words Harry's unspoken thoughts. "We can't handle this on our own anymore. At the very least, we've got him confessing to the murder of his muggle family. We need to bring in your father."

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, but it's the other things that bother me. The bit about killing all the muggleborns. Putting aside that he's a halfblood, he spoke with such conviction. Such certainty. I've heard the rantings of crazy witches and wizards before; ones that thought they could perform the impossible. I don't get that sense from Riddle. Either he's incredibly blinded by his plan, or what he's doing is real."

Luc stood and went to the desk on the other side of the room, grabbing parchment and a muggle pen. He began writing furiously on the sheet, stopping and starting several times before crumpling up the sheet and grabbing a new one. He did this several times, attempting to write something before getting frustrated and starting again. Finally, he lifted the pen from his latest page and studied it carefully before nodding.

"We need to involve your father and go back," Fleur said, turning to Harry.

Harry shook his head.

"We do need to tell him, but Riddle is going to move his operation after this. He didn't expect us to leave the building. There's very little chance he doesn't change locations."

"I think you're wrong on that one," said Luc. He turned back to them and handed the page to Fleur.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" he asked.

Fleur looked down at the page, studying the crude drawing of what appeared to be a rune circle. She'd never seen one quite like it, though she would hardly be able to get a sense of what it is based on a hastily-drawn sketch. She shook her head.

"No, nothing quite like this. Looks like a very odd rune circle," she replied before pointing to the circles. "These circles here at the points are likely linking runes, though without seeing what's drawn around them I can't know for certain."

"What's a linking rune?" Luc asked.

"Oh, that's right, linking runes isn't something you learn in school," she said, stopping herself from chastising the man. "Linking runes are runes used to link two circles together. It's odd though, you usually only have one per circle. Never this many."

"Why don't you think he's going to move?" asked Harry. "Rather standard procedure if your base is compromised. Relocate and continue on somewhere else."

Luc took the page from Fleur and pointed at his drawing.

"I think this is the key to his plan. These runes weren't drawn, they were etched into the floor and the building column. I think he's using the building as a focal point. Think about it. Why etch the runes into the building itself if you could just draw them? There's something about that building specifically that's special."

"Any guesses?" Harry asked.

Luc shook his head.

"No, but I have an idea." He rolled up the parchment and stuck it into his robes before looking down at Harry and Fleur. "You two get some rest. I'll be back in a few hours. I think we're all going to need to be at our best soon, but I doubt anything else will happen tonight. You two saw Riddle, he doesn't consider us an actual threat, so try to get some sleep."

Before they could protest he walked to the door of the flat and exited, a click signaling he'd locked it behind him. Fleur frowned as she leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes. Exhaustion was beginning to settle in her, the night's events finally catching up with her. She was worried about Luc, but he could handle himself, and he was never one to do anything stupid. She felt a weight settle next to her as an arm draped across her shoulder.

"He'll be fine," Harry said next to her as she laid her head on him. "He's got good instincts."

"I know, but I still worry."

Silence filled the air, though it wasn't uncomfortable. They'd all been through a lot tonight and she suspected Harry was beginning to crash from the excitement, just as she was. Not long before they wouldn't be able to keep their eyes open.

"Fleur, I…" he started before stopping. Another beat passed before he spoke again. "I'm sorry. Your sister's life did mean something."

"I know, Harry."

"I don't think you do," he whispered. "I think you're doubting yourself right now, but you need to know that she did matter. Will always matter."

She smiled and closed her eyes. He pressed a kiss into her hair and began to rub her shoulder gently. There would be time for talking later, but she'd done enough of that tonight. For now, the closeness was enough. To know that there was someone who wanted to hold her in their arms was enough for her to be certain that all wasn't lost. That even though justice was her main goal, perhaps there was something else worth fighting evil for. She inhaled lightly and smiled at his scent.

Birchwood and broom polish, just like always.

A small smile played across her lips as they drifted off to sleep.

.

.

Sleep had been fitful and lasted only a couple hours, neither able to relax enough to rest. They didn’t speak it out loud, but they were both worried about Luc. He was capable of taking care of himself, but they understood the dangers they were facing. How could they sleep while he was still out there? Instead, they’d gotten up and, as if on some sort of automatic routine, made breakfast.

Fleur grabbed the eggs and bacon, Harry grabbed the tea. He wasn’t familiar with Luc’s flat, but the monotony of finding things and preparing food kept his mind active. Kept him from wondering how much longer they should wait until they went after him. The sun was just beginning to come up when they sat down on the sofa, a small plate of food in front of each of them. They still hadn’t spoken, but she’d sent him a look that made him understand she was thinking the same things.

Neither ate.

The door burst open and Harry darted up, wand in hand as he swung around. He exhaled in relief as Luc's form shuffled in and closed the door behind him. Fleur was beside him, just a hair slower and relief flooded through her features as well.

"Oh Luc, thank Merlin you're safe," Fleur said, rushing over to the other man and wrapping him in a hug. He returned the gesture briefly before pulling back.

"You're going to want to see this," he said, leading them both to the table.

He pulled out a map of the London business district and unrolled it, flicking his wand to make it stick to the table. Harry looked down and saw that it appeared to be some sort of architectural map of the city, simple squares for buildings. Bigger buildings appeared larger than smaller buildings. Overlaid on the map were a complicated series of lines. He read the bottom of the map and realized that it was a sewer map.

"Where did you get this?" Harry asked.

"Broke into the government office and stole it," Luc explained as he pulled a marker from his robes and circled a building in the middle of the map.

"This is where we were yesterday," he explained. He nodded at Fleur. "You said before I left that there were more of those linking runes than usual, right?"

She nodded.

"Yes. Normally, if you're trying to link two rune circles together you use one on each."

"What if you were trying to link seven?"

Fleur's eyes went wide.

"That's impossible," she said in disbelief. "Two is the perfect number because each circle gets its power from the other. Three is possible, but it requires a substantial amount of power to maintain. I've never even heard of four, let alone seven."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"What did you find?"

"The runes in the building were etched into the floor and structure. I couldn't stop asking why? Why do that? Even if we take into account that Riddle never believed he'd be caught, why take the risk? He's spent decades working on his plan from the shadows, why take a risk that you might get found out and have to start this somewhere else?"

"And what did you come up with?" asked Harry.

Luc pulled another page from his robes and handed it to them. Harry unrolled the sheet. It was the list of buildings owned by Salazar Family Brokerage that they'd been working from.

"It's the real estate," Luc explained. "The amount of it strikes me as odd. He basically owns every building in a two kilometer radius from where we were last night. That had to have cost a fortune, and it serves no purpose if this is the only building he needs. So I went to all the buildings around the one we were in last night."

"Luc!" exclaimed Fleur, putting her hands on her hips. "You went back there? What if you had been caught?"

"I wasn't," he said, though the look in his eyes told Harry that he understood the risk he'd taken. "I was careful, and I didn't go anywhere near Riddle."

"Risky, but you must have found something," concluded Harry.

Luc nodded and returned to the map. He circled six buildings that surrounded the one they'd gone to last night.

"In the basement of each of these buildings I found an identical rune circle. Etched, at least partially, directly into the foundation of the building itself. This one," he pointed to the building south of the main one, "was pulsing faintly. I tried to disrupt the circle but there was some sort of barrier. I didn't stick around to investigate."

"So Riddle does have some safeguards in place," mused Harry. "I wonder if the one primary one is the same."

Luc shook his head.

"I'd lean more towards Riddle is the safeguard for the primary one. He's certainly not lacking for confidence to make that a strong possibility."

Harry looked at the circles on the map and tilted his head to the side, examining their positions closely. He grabbed the marker from Luc and began to draw lines between each of the six buildings that surrounded the main one. When he was finished they all stepped back. Fleur's eyes went wide.

It was a perfect hexagon.

"Merlin's balls," whispered Harry. "Am I the only one thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Are you thinking that he's using these six buildings to feed power back into the main circle and that's how he's going to kill a bunch of muggleborns?" asked Luc.

"Yeah."

"Then no, you're not the only one who's thinking it."

"This-this is impossible," whispered Fleur from behind her hand. "How? It's not enough to draw the runes and activate them. You have to have enough power to sustain them. What's he using to sustain them?"

"I thought about that too," Luc said as he sat down at the table. Harry could see the bags under his eyes and the exhaustion he felt. "It's the objects he's been smuggling. What if they've been siphoning energy from the people who work in these buildings for decades and storing it in the objects? Every muggle has magic in them, we all know that, they just don't have enough to do anything with it."

He pulled another sheet out of his robes and handed it to Fleur. She unrolled it to find a new drawing above the one from the previous night. Far more detailed and incredibly well recreated. More than enough to decipher. Luc pointed at the paper.

"What if Riddle found a way to tap into that magic and store it into his objects? They'd have to be specific objects, perhaps designed for something else but able to be used for this purpose, but maybe it'll give him enough power to accomplish what he needs." He tapped the middle building. "This is the centerpiece. He's not going to move because he'd have to recreate it elsewhere, and something tells me this isn't exactly something that can be picked up and transported."

He sighed wearily and rubbed his eyes.

"We need to bring your dad in on this, Harry, and we need to do it fast. None of the other runes were pulsing, but that last one has me concerned that this is going to happen soon. My gut says we've got a week or two, tops."

"There's one thing I don't get," Fleur said, "Riddle himself is half-blood. So are the majority of the magical community. Is his ritual going to be able to distinguish half bloods from muggleborn?"

Luc shrugged.

"I would assume so. Grindelwald's hatred was specifically against muggles. He was very welcoming to half-bloods, even calling them the foundation upon which our world sits. Though some argue he meant that in a servant kind of way. Perhaps Riddle found a way to separate the two." He rubbed his eyes again. "Or his building is protected so he'll be fine while everyone else gets roasted."

Harry nodded.

"We don't know if his plan will actually do what he says it will, or the exact details, but better to be safe than sorry." Harry rubbed his chin. "We still need to figure out a way to deal with the rune circle. If we go back with a squad of Aurors and he's already started it then we need to know how to disrupt it."

"Leave that to me," Fleur said, looking up from the page. "You bring your father in on this and I'll contact your mother."

"My mum?" Harry asked.

Fleur nodded.

"She's the closest thing I know to an ancient runes expert and if she can't help then I know Dumbledore can."

He ran a hand through his hair. She was right. Though there were runes masters in Europe, none were as easily accessible as a Hogwarts professor and, despite not teaching the subject, his mother could have just as well gotten her mastery in the subject if she wanted. And Dumbledore would help if Lily Potter asked him.

"Sounds like a plan." He looked over at Luc. "Get some sleep."

Luc nodded.

Harry clapped the other man on the shoulder and squeezed.

"Good work on this, Luc. I'm sure she would be incredibly proud of you."

"What are you going to tell your father?" Fleur asked as they turned towards the fire. The wards were still in place and Luc looked ready to pass out, so the fire was the only exit.

Harry shrugged.

"Probably going to tell him I've been investigating the case he explicitly told me not to. That I dueled a powerful, crazy sociopath and lost. Oh, and that, without his help, a lot of people may be about to die."

"So you're going to let him yell at you then play on his sympathy, ego, and sense of duty?" she asked with a smile.

He winked at Fleur.

"When you put it like that it sounds bad. I like to think of it as doing my civic duty in an unorthodox way."

Chapter Text

Harry rubbed his eyes as the lift opened and he stepped out. Exhaustion was beginning to take its toll, but years of long nights and raids had trained him to push back against it, if only for a time. He'd crash soon, but there was work to be done. Fleur had owled his mother to meet her in Hogsmeade and Harry had the unenviable task of bringing his father up to speed.

As he walked through the department he received several strange looks and double takes. An expected reaction. Technically, he wasn't even allowed to be on this level for the duration of his suspension, at least not unless he'd been summoned. He swiftly made his way towards the Head Auror office, catching the eye of Tonks as he passed.

"Harry?" she questioned as she walked next to him, her task forgotten. "What are you doing here?"

"Is my dad here?" he asked sharply, ignoring her question.

She frowned but shook her head.

"Conference room," she revealed, "Harry, I-"

"Not now," he interrupted rudely, stopping the bubbly woman in her tracks.

He felt bad, he truly did, and he'd make it up to her later, perhaps with a butterbeer and her favorite fish and chips. For now, however, there were more important matters to attend to. He changed his direction and headed for the conference room. Muffled voices could be heard from within, but that didn't matter. He grabbed the handle and forcefully pushed open the door. James was standing at the board, pointing at something with a pencil. Sirius, Frank, Alice, Hermione, and Draco were seated around the table.

All of the occupants froze and looked at him.

"Uh, son?" James said, "You're not supposed to be here."

"Everyone out," Harry commanded, looking directly at those seated.

Draco turned up his lip.

"Piss off Potter," he said with a disgusted look. "You're not allowed to be here until your suspension is lifted or they get rid of you for good. I was ambivalent regarding which was preferable, but I'm leaning towards the latter now."

"Leave or you're waking up in a bed at St. Mungos," Harry said, an edge to his voice.

With some degree of satisfaction he noted that Draco paled. Or at the very least, paled slightly more than his usual shade. Harry looked at Sirius and held his gaze for several moments. His godfather nodded, seemingly understanding the message Harry was trying to send. He stood and nodded to the others.

"Let's give them the room," Sirius said.

Harry stepped aside as everyone began to file out of the room. Before he turned from the table, Sirius gave James a knowing look.

"I told you," he whispered before turning around.

He gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze and nodded before walking out, pulling the door shut behind him. Harry's shoulders sagged as silence descended upon the room and some of the tension left him. He drew his wand and tapped it against the door, sighing in relief as the privacy wards activated. He nodded to himself before turning around and walking towards the table, dropping down into a chair with another sigh.

James hadn't moved.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and looked up at his father.

"We need help."

James raised an eyebrow.

"We?" he asked. "Whose 'we' and what do you need help with?"

Harry sighed again. Might as well get the big one out of the way.

"We found Riddle."

Harry had seen James Potter angry before, both as his child and as his subordinate. His anger could match that of his mother's as he ranted about whatever Harry had done wrong. More often than not, Harry knew that he deserved the scolding as it had been preceded by doing something incredibly stupid. Not waiting for backup to arrive and going into a hostile environment by himself. Getting smart with the Minister. Telling his professors to kiss his arse. They'd all led to legendary James Potter anger.

He was prepared for it. Expecting it even.

What he was supremely unprepared for was his dad to simply sigh and sit down at the table before rubbing his eyes. The previous tension that had left him returned, heightened by the lack of raised voices. Harry could handle the yelling, he'd yell right back, but the silence was deafening.

"Harry," James said, and he could hear the weariness in his voice, "I specifically said you were not allowed to investigate while you were suspended and I thought you understood that. When you left London with Fleur, it seemed like you were taking my advice to get away."

Harry opened his mouth but James held up a hand to stop him.

"I've spent every day since you left here trying to get you back. Every damn day. Called in every favor I had and even some that Sirius was owed. First you withhold evidence and now this? Do you not trust me to be able to handle the situation?"

"I trust you," Harry started before James interrupted.

"Then why can't you trust me enough to know what's best?"

"Because I couldn't just sit on my hands and do nothing!" Harry threw his hands into the air before taking a deep breath. He couldn't get upset when the man before him had every reason to be angry. "What I did? Killing Bellatrix like that? It haunts me. Part of me wishes I'd have been fired or condemned, because I lost control. I lost control, dad, no one else. So I needed to make sure it wasn't for nothing."

James took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Son, everyone here knows you did what you had to do. We all understand."

"Yeah, well maybe they shouldn't understand," said Harry. "Because I don't. Not fully, and finding Riddle was the best way for me to work through it."

James sighed again, placing his glasses back on his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. The restraint he was showing was clearly taking great effort, of that Harry could tell.

"You said we," James pointed out. "Who are you working with?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and looked down. This was something he'd gone back and forth on since he stepped into the fire at Luc's flat. He'd tried to think of any way to speak with James without revealing Fleur's involvement, but that would be damn near impossible. Her quest and his offer of help to her were directly linked to Riddle. There was no way to separate the two.

"I, ah, have to go a bit further back to explain that fully," he said.

"I'm not going to like this," James muttered to himself. "Well go on then. Might as well twist the knife while it's still in."

Harry ran a hand through his hair again.

"Fleur is the Shadow," he said before pausing, letting that information settle in the air.

The elder Potter blinked at him several times in disbelief, but still the anger didn't surface. He frowned, and his confused expression was replaced with disbelief before that too was replaced with disappointment. Harry lowered his head in shame.

"Is that why you hid the evidence at the Nott manor?" James asked.

Harry shook his head.

"I didn't know until the night the four of us were supposed to have dinner," he explained. "I was investigating on my own before then. That night something made me put the pieces together and I confronted her."

James raised an eyebrow.

"How is she connected to Riddle?"

Harry looked up and was relieved to see the disappointment had been brushed aside for curiosity.

"Fleur stole something from Tom Riddle in France a few years ago. Something important to him." He paused. "In retaliation, he arranged to have Fleur's sister killed."

"Merlin," James whispered, rubbing his hand on his forehead. "So, she's been looking to get revenge ever since?"

Harry shrugged.

"Justice. Revenge. I think they've kind of blurred together for her and Luc."

"Luc?" James asked.

"Luc Bennet," clarified Harry. "He was engaged to Fleur's sister when she was murdered. He's been helping her ever since."

James nodded.

"So Fleur and Luc are wronged by Tom Riddle and they start hunting for him. That leads them here, where they link up with you," James said, laying out the information for himself aloud before looking back at Harry. "With no resources you're able to locate Tom Riddle. How? We've found nothing since you were suspended outside of Ministry records confirming he took his OWLs and NEWTs."

"Because you were looking in the wrong place," Harry said with a sigh. "I'm guessing you're focusing on the smuggling aspect?"

James nodded.

"The man was the most important part," Harry revealed. "Regulus said he was English, so we wagered that he went to Hogwarts. I spoke with Professor Dumbledore while I was there, and he was incredibly shaken when I asked him about Tom Riddle."

James widened his eyes at the idea that Albus Dumbledore had been shaken by anything.

"Tom Riddle was radicalized by a combination of his family and the writings of Grindelwald," Harry continued. "Dumbledore said he was remarkably brilliant, but had been attached to Grindelwald's manifesto. He disappeared after school, but he's been working to complete a plan for decades."

"Plan?" James asked.

"He wants to kill all muggleborns, and we think he might have found a way to do it." Harry bounced his leg up and down nervously. "Or at the very least, found a way to kill a lot of them at one time."

"Wow, okay, that's a big jump from smuggling to murder," whistled James. "What makes you think this?"

"We confronted him last night and found a rune circle. One that's more advanced than anything we've ever seen."

"You let him go?" asked James with a raised eyebrow.

Harry shook his head.

"He beat us, dad. Badly. One man took down the three of us, and two of us have formal training. Regardless, Luc did some digging and we found more rune circles in the area. We think he's going to link them all together to complete his plan, and we think it's going to happen soon."

James scratched his head.

"What sort of runes are we talking about?"

Harry shrugged. "Fleur is meeting with mum today to try and see if she can tell us exactly what we're looking at. Or bring it to Dumbledore so they can figure out a way to disrupt the circle if it's activated."

"We need to move on this," James said, his voice turning from weariness to conviction. "We need to bring the Minister up to speed."

He made to stand but Harry held up his hands.

"No," he said. James looked at him, confused. "Riddle said he's got people everywhere, and I don't trust anyone outside of our team. We need to bring the Auror's in and take him down. Together, without any outside knowledge."

"You just said he was able to defeat three of you," James pointed out.

"Luc and Fleur were still processing the fact that they were finally face-to-face with Gabby's killer. Neither was in the right state of mind. With a full team, and a good plan, I think we can take him down."

Harry looked up at his dad with a pleading expression, willing him to understand how important this was. His instincts told him they had days, not weeks or months, so he needed the full team to act fast. After a long pause James nodded as he straightened up.

"Let me call the team into-"

"No," Harry said again. "We do this blind. I'll make portkeys and provide them an hour or so before we're ready. We gather everyone, give them the plan, and then go in. Nobody but us knows before that meeting what's happening."

"You just said you trust the team."

"I do, but we can't take any chances," Harry replied. "Sirius and I can spot if someone is acting oddly. I don't think anyone here is dirty but I'd rather spring this on them at the last minute instead of letting them stew in it. Or worse, they're dirty and tell Riddle we're coming."

James sighed and rubbed his face once more.

"Fine." He looked down at Harry with a caring eye. "You need to get some rest. You look like hell and shit. We need you at your best. Go home, sleep, eat, and come back with the portkeys tomorrow evening. Where are we headed?"

"Muggle London," Harry said as he stood. The exhaustion was starting to creep back into his body and he knew it wouldn't be long before he crashed.

James approached and hugged him.

"I'm proud of you, Harry," he said before stepping back. "Even when you break the rules, you do so for a good reason. Now go get some rest, tomorrow will be busy. I'll make sure the entire team is ready."

.

.

Fleur bounced her leg up and down, looking towards the door and frowning as another local entered the establishment. She sipped the drink in her hands to try and calm herself down, but that had been proving to be a futile effort. She was tired, and knew she needed to sleep, but Lily had responded to confirm she would be at the Three Broomsticks in the early evening.

She'd spent the day at the bank rummaging through every book on runes she had, trying to find something that might help, but she'd come up empty. It hadn't surprised her. In the curse breaking line of work, runes were largely used to keep something contained, a feedback loop designed to keep the curse from deteriorating. The illogical part of her was upset that she'd gotten her mastery in charm and not runes.

The door opened again. She looked up and smiled as the short redhead she'd been waiting for walked in. Lily scanned the floor and smiled when she spotted Fleur. As she reached the table she pulled Fleur into a quick hug before settling into the open seat.

"Oi, Mrs. Potter, I didn't know you'd be stopping by today," Madam Rosmerta said with a smile as she approached. She placed a butterbeer on the table.

"I didn't expect to be here," Lily responded, nodding towards Fleur, "but it seems my assistance was required." She sipped on the drink and nodded towards the taller woman. "Thanks Rosmerta. You always have the best drinks."

"Let me know if you want anything to eat, dear," she said with a wave as she made her way back to the bar.

Lily turned towards Fleur and frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Fleur raised an eyebrow.

"Why would something be wrong?" she asked.

Lily rolled her eyes.

"You look as if you're going to pass out soon and your hair is a mess," she pointed out, causing Fleur to brush at her hair. "So tell me what's wrong."

Fleur reached into her robes and pulled out the parchment piece containing the drawing. She straightened it out on the table and passed it to Lily, pointing at the more detailed picture.

"I need to know everything about this."

Lily looked down at the page, scanning it, eyes growing wider the longer she looked at it. When she looked back up at Fleur there was concern mixed with fear in her eyes. Fleur's stomach clenched at the sight, knowing that if Lily didn't like what she saw then Riddle may actually be telling the truth.

"This is blood magic," she whispered, scooting closer to Fleur and pulling the page away from the center of the table. "What the hell are you doing with a diagram of a blood magic circle?"

"We found it," Fleur explained, "carved into the foundation of a building in muggle London."

"Muggle London?" Lily whispered, growing paler.

Fleur nodded.

"Fleur, this isn't just any old blood magic," the redhead explained, tapping the runes on the outside of the circles. "These are blood runes for death. They don't serve any purpose other than to end life. These runes have been outlawed worldwide. Even possessing this page could land you in prison. What's this about Fleur?"

"It's tied to the case I'm helping Harry with." She ducked her head, breaking eye contact with Lily. "I'm…I'm also involved in it."

Fleur felt a gentle hand rest on her own and give it a squeeze. She looked up and gone was the fear in Lily's eyes. The concern had washed it away and taken over completely. Fleur smiled as the emotions of the previous night threatened to bubble to the surface. She frowned, fighting back the tears that wanted to make themselves known but she refused to let fall.

"The person who drew this," she whispered, gripping Lily's hand tightly. "He…he killed my sister."

"Oh, sweetheart," Lily whispered, though there was no pity in her voice. For that Fleur was grateful. "I'm so sorry."

Fleur smiled and a single tear escaped, but she didn't try to wipe it away. People had been telling her how sorry they were since the day of the explosion. How much of a tragedy it was. Telling her to let them know if there was anything they could do. Very few had meant it, instead, they were simply going through the motions with empty platitudes.

Lily Potter was different, she could tell.

She could tell that the woman next to her felt a real pang of sadness at the thought that Gabby hadn't just died, but had actually been murdered. That her murderer was still out there, not behind bars or buried in an unmarked grave. She knew because it was the same feeling she got when Harry had told her how sorry he was and the genuine emotion she felt rolling off him when he said it.

"I've been searching for them for years, and Harry's investigation intersected with mine. When he found out, he…"

"Did exactly what Harry would do," Lily finished with a smile.

Fleur nodded and pointed to the page.

"I've never seen so many linking runes on one circle, and the ones outside of the circles are completely unfamiliar to me," she explained. "You're the most knowledgeable person I know on runes, and I knew I could trust you. That's why I asked you to meet me here."

Lily nodded and traced her hand on one of the linking runes.

"Why are there so many linking runes?" she wondered. "The most I've seen is two on one circle."

Fleur nodded.

"That's what I told Harry, but we discovered six other circles that are identical to this one."

Lily's brow furrowed as she bit her thumbnail.

"The number seven is a powerful magical number. Linking together seven rune circles would, in theory, make the entire thing incredibly potent." She looked at Fleur. "Where are they getting the power to keep this active? If they've got seven circles then they'd need to have the ability to feed a drastic amount of power into them all."

"The smuggling operation Harry has been investigating? The one they thought was a cult? Our best guess is that those objects have the ability to store large quantities of magic," Fleur explained. "We think they've been pulling stray magic from muggles for years."

Lily nodded, her eyes going back to the drawing. She pulled it closer, leaning forward to inspect it.

"Pulling magic from muggles is…that's actually really advanced. And very outside the box. They've got so little, but what's there is constantly replenishing itself, just like ours." She moved her head from side to side. "Given enough time and patience, yeah, in theory that could be used to power the circle. We're talking over the course of many, many years."

"The timeline we're working in has been decades," Fleur said. She placed her index finger on the blood runes. "What can you tell me about these? You said they were death runes?"

Lily nodded.

"Yeah, a very illegal branch of blood magic that was common centuries ago," she said. "It fell out of favor once the general opinion on death magic turned against its practitioners. Over the course of several decades, more and more countries started outlawing its practice. After that they started declaring that even texts on the subject were too dangerous to remain and a long campaign of destruction was started. Today, we only know about this through history books."

Fleur frowned. Riddle had said that he'd gone to great lengths to find the magic that he needed. Perhaps he'd found one of the few remaining texts on the subject? That raised another question.

"How do you recognize it then?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "If all the texts have been destroyed, then how do you know it?"

"Albus is, as far as I'm aware, the only person in the world with a copy of some of those texts." She paused as if contemplating her words carefully. "Albus Dumbledore is, at his core, a scholar. Power doesn't drive him, knowledge does. In his early years, before Grindelwald, he traveled far and wide to learn as many obscure and lesser-known disciplines as he could."

"And he found this death magic?" Fleur asked.

Lily nodded.

"Among other things, yes. We were working on a project during my charms mastery when he allowed me to study it from the confines of his office. This magic is evil, pure and simple."

She pointed at the runes around one half of the circles.

"See these? These are meant to make the blood ready. These?" she pointed to the ones around the other half of the circles. "These are meant to carry death. I don't recognize the third set of runes mixed in, but this circle's sole purpose is to kill."

She looked at Fleur and the fear had returned to her eyes.

"Is this being used to kill muggles?"

Fleur shook her head.

"No. We believe it's going to be used to kill muggleborns."

Lily paled and sat back in her seat. She didn't say anything as she picked up her glass and took several large gulps. Fleur wouldn't have blamed the woman if she'd downed the entire drink, ordered another, and repeated the process. Knowing what the runes were, knowing that Riddle had been telling the truth, it chilled her to her very essence. Death on the scale that this thing could unleash was unfathomable, and they had to stop it.

"Lily," she said, "If this were to be activated, how could it be stopped?"

Lily shrugged and frowned down at the page.

"It's blood magic at its core. Death magic gets its power from, ironically enough, the life that is contained within blood. Once it's fed into the circle and the magic is activated, not even destroying the circle would stop the desired result."

Fleur's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"There's no way to stop it once it's begun?"

Once again, Lily shrugged, but she furrowed her brow.

"Despite being death magic, it would still be bound by the rules of blood magic. In theory, and I say this as a guess considering all of this," she gestured at the page, "is so far beyond anything I've ever seen. If you performed your own blood magic and added it to the circle then that would disrupt it. This is magic on an enormous scale, so any deviation in the intended method of producing the results would likely render the entire thing inert."

Lily grabbed Fleur's arm and the concern once again pushed aside the fear.

"Fleur, you and Harry have to go to James. You have to tell him about this."

Fleur nodded and smiled, placing a placating hand over Lily's.

"That was Harry's job today," she said reassuringly. Her smile widened as Lily visibly relaxed. "We knew we were in over our heads last night. We need help to stop this from happening."

Lily nodded and a silence settled between them. Lily finished off her drink, but Fleur couldn't help but notice that she hadn't taken her eyes off the page. It was as if she were trying to get it to tell her some other, certain, way to counteract the evil that could spew forth from it. Fleur grabbed the page and rolled it back up, tucking it in her robes.

"Promise me something, Fleur," Lily said, looking at her. "Promise me you'll keep Harry safe."

Fleur nodded.

"I intend to do everything I can to protect your son."

.

.

The door to his bedroom squeaked and he was up in an instant, wand drawn from beneath his pillow. He exhaled and lowered his wand when he saw Fleur frozen in the doorway.

"Fleur? What are you doing here?" He checked the time. It was just past midnight.

"I couldn't sleep," she said quietly.

He smiled and moved over to make room for her. They'd met briefly at Luc's in the evening to give each other updates, Luc confirming there had been no change in any of the circles he visited, before heading their separate ways. Harry had lingered, almost asked her to come with him, but decided against it. He needed time to mentally prepare for the upcoming fight, and he suspected she did as well. Perhaps even more so than he did. He'd meditated for an hour after returning, once again going back to the well that was his training, before slipping into bed and entering a fitful sleep.

As she slid into bed next to him he caught a whiff of her scent. Buttercream and cinnamon. He smiled as she snuggled into him. She gripped him tightly and he wrapped his hand around hers.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" he asked softly.

"Yes. No. I don't know," she admitted. "It'll be tough, seeing him again, but I know I have to be better. More mentally prepared. The shock yesterday made me lose focus. I can't let that happen again."

"You'll have to go as the Shadow," he said as he began to run a hand through her long silver-blonde locks.

She nodded.

"I know. One last appearance and then she'll be gone forever. She'll fade from memory until she's nothing more than a box of files for long forgotten cases."

He hummed in agreement as she traced her finger up and down his bare chest. Her fingers traced a line to his side, settling on a small scar. Only a few centimeters in length, but she'd found it.

"What's this one?" she asked.

"That was one I got at Hogwarts. I was dueling with professor Flickwick for extra practice and he nicked me. I didn't notice it until it had healed on its own."

Her finger moved again, this time from his side to the right of his stomach where the skin had a slight bump in it. It ran nearly the length of his stomach vertically.

"This one?" she asked.

"From my first raid. We got the drop on about six idiots who were trying to create a more deadly version of the draught of the living death. I made a mistake and Tonks got injured. I refused the healer until she was taken care of. By the time they saw me it was too late to prevent scarring."

He shuddered as her fingertip traced along the large scar that ran the length of his waistline.

"This?" she asked.

"We'd gotten a tip that someone out in the countryside was trying to breed basilisk hybrids. When we got there the guy freaked out and attacked us. He sent all his snakes after us. He got the drop on me while I was taking out the last of the snakes. I woke up a day later in St. Mungos."

There was a certain intimacy to telling her about his scars. They'd been intimate on many occasions, but she'd never mentioned or asked about the scars that littered his body. There was a short lifetime of danger and stupidity marking his flesh, and while he'd never been ashamed of anything he'd done to receive them, the stories behind them were personal. They marked events in his life that had shaped him into the man he was today. He hadn't even told Ginny about any of them, brushing off the questions anytime they came up.

Telling these stories made him feel vulnerable, but Fleur's warmth made him feel safe. As she drew her finger across his bare chest, hunting for another story, it felt like she was drawing a warm blanket over him.

"Do they make you uncomfortable?" he asked, his voice quiet. "My scars? I've got more on my back and legs."

He felt her shake her head.

"No. I love your scars."

"And I love you."

His words floated in the air, but nothing changed. No shift in the air, no uncomfortable silence. She just continued to draw shapes on his chest and stomach. He smiled as he understood that they didn't need grand declarations of love or romantic gestures. They didn't need to sweep the other off their feet and carry them away to a fairy tale ending. That wasn't them.

They were messy and different. They were chocolate croissants and s'mores on a beach somewhere in France. They were flirting and dueling. They were ice cream shops and walks through the Burrow.

She shifted, moving on top of him and straddling his hips. Her smile was infectious as he sat up to kiss her. A tender, short kiss, enough to sate her momentarily. He pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it onto the floor just as she pushed him back onto the bed. He marveled up at her, letting his hands roam.

As she leaned down to kiss him, less tender, less gently, realization hit him. He hadn't known where their relationship would go after the graveyard. After everything that had happened, he'd been left without certainty. Tomorrow would bring a whole new level of challenge and life threatening danger.

But for now? Now he knew where they were at.

They were good.

.

.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" Luc asked.

Again.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Yes, Luc, it's fine," he repeated as the lift opened and they stepped out. "We'll meet our…mutual friend at the portkey site. She knows the plan. We've got to give the briefing to our reinforcements."

The department was empty save for the voices coming from the war room at the back.

"And you trust them?" Luc asked as they made their way through the rows of desks.

"I trust most of them," he replied before stopping and turning towards Luc. "I've given my dad and godfather clear instructions. Anyone seems like they're acting oddly or pulling their punches then they get stunned. I think we've got enough skilled people to keep one man busy while we disrupt his plan."

Harry turned and continued walking, Luc hot on his heels. As they stepped through the door all talk ceased and they all looked at them. Harry motioned for Luc to enter and closed the door before activating the wards.

"This is Luc Bennet, he's been helping me," he explained to the room.

Looking around, Sirius was standing with James at the board while the remaining occupants were all seated at the large table. Neville, Frank, Alice, Tonks, Dawlish, Proudfoot, Seamus, and Terry were all present, just as he'd expected.

"Didn't you quit being an Auror?" Seamus asked.

"I did, yes," Luc replied with a curt nod.

"So, why are you here?" asked Terry.

"Yesterday, Harry brought something to my attention that needed to be acted on, so we've brought him back in to deal with it. Mr. Bennet has been working with Harry since his suspension," James explained.

He reached into his robes and pulled out a piece of paper, tapping his wand to it. Duplicates levitated themselves to each person seated at the table.

"This is Tom Riddle," said James. "Or rather, what he looked like the year he was Head Boy at Hogwarts."

"He looks basically the same now, just older," Luc added.

"You know that because…?" asked Tonks.

"Because myself, Luc, and a third individual confronted him yesterday and got our arses kicked," said Harry.

"Third individual?" Tonks asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry sighed.

"The Shadow."

"I'm sorry, I think I misheard you," Frank said, his voice laced with disbelief. "It sounded like you said you, Mr. Bennet there, and an international thief were working together."

"You heard correctly," Harry confirmed with a nod.

Frank sighed.

"I think I speak for everyone when I ask this. What the fuck, Harry?"

"It's a long, drawn out story that's not mine to tell," he defended. "She wants him taken down as much as we do, and that's good enough for me right now."

"Okay, putting that aside for now," Alice cut in, stopping Frank from voicing his reply, "why are we here after dark for a smuggling operation?"

"It's not a smuggling operation anymore," James said. All eyes turned back towards him. "Tom Riddle has created a rune circle that, if activated, will kill muggleborns. We believe he intends to use it soon. We're going to stop him."

The weight of his words settled over the room and Harry could see everyone processing it. Terry and Seamus both looked as if they would be sick. Frank and Alice looked horrified. Dawlish scowled, though he knew that was the man's usual expression, there seemed to be deeper concern in the lines on his face. Even Sirius had widened his eyes.

"Well that's some heavy stuff," Sirius said. "You're sure about this kid?"

Harry nodded

"Riddle is crazy, but he's also incredibly talented. We spent only a small amount of time with him, but we could all see it. That's not even taking into account his skill with a wand. He's dangerous."

"Dangerous enough to need all of us?" asked Dawlish. "Just how much resistance are we looking at? Wouldn't he just move operations now that you've compromised his base?"

"If our expectations match reality," Luc chimed in, "there will be little resistance outside of Riddle himself."

"Is there a language barrier in place here?" Dawlish wondered. "Is that some sort of French humour I'm not getting?"

Luc shook his head with a smile.

"Riddle is confident and doesn't believe anyone can stop him. I'd say he's arrogant, but his skills back up his confidence. We suspect he needs the location to complete his plan, so he won't find a rabbit hole to hide in. I don't tink we'll find much more than a token amount of security, though he has at least put up anti portkey and apparition wards."

"What's the plan?" asked Tonks, turning back to James.

Harry pulled a map from his robes and enlarged it before unrolling it onto the table. Everyone gathered around. It was hand drawn, an unfortunate necessity as neither he nor Luc had managed to find any detailed architectural diagrams of the building in any muggle government office. They'd spent the better part of the day searching, but in the end simply decided to draw one as best they could.

"There are ten levels to the building, not including the basement," he explained before pointing to a small square just to the left of the building. "We'll portkey here, just across the street. From there we walk across and go in through a service entrance."

"If we meet any resistance," Luc picked up, "we deal with what's there and then split into two teams" He pointed at the two lines running up the center of the drawing. "There are staircases on either side of the elevators in the middle. We suspect Riddle will have killed elevator access."

"James, Sirius, Proudfoot, Frank, Alice, and Luc are one team," said Harry. "Myself, the Shadow, Tonks, Dawlish, Seamus, and Terry are the other. Each team takes a staircase and moves up to the next level. If we meet any resistance, we deal with it as we go."

He pointed to the eighth level.

"On the eighth level is the security office. It was empty last time, but Riddle may have several wizards watching the security cameras for intruders. We won't know until we get there."

"Won't they see us as soon as we come in?" Alice asked.

Harry nodded.

"They will, though we'll enter disillusioned. If they spot us, we'll either see them on the way up or they'll run to Riddle and prepare defenses. In either scenario, we've got a plan."

Tonks looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"We just take them out if they come our way?"

"Now you're getting it," Luc said with a smile.

"And if they prepare defenses instead?" Sirius chimed in.

"Then we take down the defenses," answered Harry.

"Just like that?" Seamus asked with a shake of his head. "That seems too easy."

"That's because our main goal isn't capturing Riddle," continued Harry. He pointed to the left side of the top level. "On this side of the top level is where the rune circle is. Our goal is to keep him distracted long enough for the Shadow to either destroy it or, if it's activated, disrupt it."

"Okay, say this goes the way you say it does," Proudfoot said, leaning back in his chair, "what's the plan once we're at the top?"

"Alice, Seamus, Terry, and Luc are on support," Harry said as he began pacing. "Keep the rest of us shielded and protected as best you can. You're also there if Riddle has any surprises that try to ambush us once we're in. There's a single set of double doors that lead into the penthouse, so there's not a lot of room for movement once we're there."

"The rest of us," he continued, "are on attack. Riddle used the environment to his advantage. We keep him busy, try to get something past his shields, and anything he conjures we put down hard."

He pointed to the right side of the top level.

"There's a large desk on this side of the room we can probably use as cover, though if he gets creative that might not matter much."

"We've also got a contingency if things go sideways and he calls for additional help," Luc said, reaching into his robe and pulling out two crystal squares. "Stick these against the frame of the stairwells on the top level and hit them with a couple spells."

"You're going to blow up the entrance to the stairs?" Neville asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry had to give it to his partner for recognizing the devices. "Where did you get those? We aren't even allowed to have them."

"You want me to tell you where I acquired not one but two highly controlled explosive devices?" asked Luc. "While I'm standing in the middle of the primary office for your law enforcement division?"

"Yes?" Neville replied, though his response came as more of a question.

"Think I'm going to pass on that one." He looked around the room as he reached into his robes, pulling out two lengths of rope, tossing one to Harry. "Look, we've got this planned out. We got beat last time because we didn't have numbers, but Harry says you all work well together, so this shouldn't be anything more than a standard job for your team. We're activating these portkeys soon. Are you all in or out?"

Nobody complained or voiced concern. They didn't grumble at the thought of having to execute a raid in the middle of the night on such short notice. Harry smiled as everyone simply began splitting off into their assigned groups. He was proud of the team he worked with, the absolute best professionals ever assembled, if you were to ask him. He felt himself slipping into a familiar rhythm as Tonk slid up beside him and sent him a wink.

"Danger, uncertainty, and a muggleborn-hating dark wizard," Sirius said as he grabbed the rope and looked up at Luc. "Just another day at the office."

"Exactly," the taller Frenchman replied. "What could possibly go wrong?"

.

.

"Duck!"

Luc crouched quickly at the words as another blast of fire shot out from behind him. The fire ended and he moved forward, taking aim at the next group and firing several quick fireballs, catching their attention. The stairwell was sweltering hot and he'd long since shed his outer robe somewhere around level four. It had all become a haze of smoke and fire rather quickly.

Another lunged at him and he sent a blasting hex, ripping into the rotting torso, causing it to fall over the railing and down the shaft.

"Hey Bennet!"

Luc looked down the stairs at Sirius as the older man sent a jet of oil down. He whistled and James lit it on fire. Nodding, Sirius looked up at Luc.

"Remember that time you said, quote, 'What could possibly go wrong?,' end quote. You remember that?"

"Yes, Black, I do," Luc yelled as another jumped towards him. He ducked down and, using its own momentum, redirected it towards the wall. It hit with a crash, and he quickly lit it on fire.

"Do you remember if that was before or after there was a fucking army of Inferi in the building?" asked Sirius with a grunt.

More of the creatures were coming from below, and they could all hear them from above. The door to the stairwell continued to rattle as more inferi tried to claw their way in. They'd been set upon as soon as they'd entered the first stairwell. As if from nowhere the Inferi swarmed from every office, hall, and level.

Chaos was the name of the game, though after three levels of fighting Alice and Fleur had been able to seal all the doors to each level. That still left them with all the monsters in each wide stairwell, but it was far more manageable than it had been.

A gust of wind blew past Luc and caught nearly ten of the creatures in its vortex.

"Go!" yelled Fleur, the robotic voice of the Shadow ringing out.

The group moved up as Fleur shifted the vortex behind them, blocking more creatures from following. With a quick flick of his wrist, Harry lit the wind on fire, the shrieking of the beings caught in the flames nearly deafening. A howl sounded from below as they saw more of them returning, moving faster, as if with purpose.

"How are they getting back up?" yelled Frank. "Fire is supposed to put these things down for good."

"Don't you feel it?" asked Fleur. "As soon as we opened the door to the stairs, new wards activated. They're built into the structure. I think they're feeding magic back into the creatures to keep them going."

She turned around and took out a piece of chalk, drawing several runes on the ground. Harry was above her, firing down at the approaching creatures while she worked. Just as the inferi reached the bottom step she tapped Harry on the shin twice and he retreated. She placed her wand at the center of the string of runes and, with a soft blue glow, fire whips shot from each of them, striking the creatures down in rapid succession.

"How long is that going to hold?" James asked as he levitated the group of creatures in front of them, sending them flying down the shaft.

"Long enough, now move!" she shouted.

They moved into the open door to the top level, as the last of them made it Harry tapped the door twice just as the creatures started to follow. He looked back at Fleur and she quickly began drawing runes on the frame of the door. After scribbling for several minutes they glowed red before fading. She nodded and bent over, hands on her knees to catch her breath.

Luc surveyed the group and was shocked they'd all made it, though none had made it unscathed. James had a long scratch along his forearm. Sirius was sporting matching cuts along his chin and chest.

"Tonks, how are we doing?" James asked as he caught his breath.

"Alice is in no shape to fight and Neville's limping pretty badly. I can probably patch him up, but Dawlish got his right hand bit so he's using his off hand. You're gonna need me in there."

James looked to Harry and Luc could see the silent conversation playing out between father and son. Nearly three decades of mutual trust existed between the two men, far greater than the trust between a father and son. It ran deeper than that, Luc suspected, and he understood how difficult it must be for both of them. They were here to do a job, but neither wanted to see the other hurt, yet they pressed on, because the alternative was the lives of innocents.

Harry nodded and James turned towards Dawlish.

"You hang back here with Neville and Alice. Guard our backs."

The gruff man opened his mouth to protest, but James held up a hand.

"That's an order, Auror Dawlish."

The man nodded.

"See if you can't patch Neville's leg," added James before turning back to the rest of the group. "Sirius, Harry, Tonks, Frank, you're up front with me. Proudfoot, Seamus, Terry, keep us clean, got it?"

"Yes sir!" they all replied.

James turned back to Harry and Fleur.

"You two ready?"

Harry turned towards the door and nodded.

"Fast and loud," he said.

In what Luc would have thought was a carefully coordinated effort, Harry and James moved forward as one, sending matching blasting hexes at the set of wide double doors, blowing them off their hinges. They moved into the room and, in an instant, the dark night sky was filled with red.

"He's activated the rune circle!" cried Fleur.

Riddle was waiting for them, not in his tailored robes, but in his best battle robes. Still form-fitting, but cut loose to allow for a greater range of motion. He moved fast, sending a barrage of hexes their way as he dodged and blocked everything they had.

"It's too late!" he yelled as he caught Proudfoot in the stomach with a jet of deep orange light. "My vision will finally be realized tonight! I succeed where Grindlewald failed!"

A tiger charged at them, and before Luc could process it, a giant dog leaped from behind him, latching onto the tiger's throat and tumbling with it to the ground. The two broke apart and the tiger swiped, catching the dog in the face. The dog dodged a second swipe and charged, catching the tiger in the chin with its head. The beast staggered and the dog pressed the advantage, slapping a massive paw into the jaw of the larger animal, sending it flying to the ground.

Its jaws once again tightened around the striped creature's throat, tearing and sending a geyser of black goop spraying. The creature, with the last of its strength, sunk its claws into the underside of the dog, surprising the large beast.

As the dog stumbled Luc was sent backwards, slamming into the wall. The air was pushed out of his lungs and his vision blurred. A familiar sensation, he realized. It would seem he had a knack for getting the wind knocked out of him in this place. If he'd had any air to laugh he would have. He saw James, Harry, Tonks, and Frank trading spells with Riddle just as a massive suit of armor joined the fray, distracting the latter two.

Fleur skidded to a stop next to him and pressed her hand to his chest. Air returned and he gasped, gulping in air as if parched from days in the desert without water. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him.

"Luc!" she called, causing him to look up at her. "We need to disrupt the rune circle."

He nodded and got to his feet, bringing up a shield as two arrows sailed in his direction. He turned as he backed towards the rune circle, now pulsing red, and saw two wooden figures with bows and arrows approaching. He dipped his wand low and a sheet of ice blasted from the end of his wand, catching one of the figures in the leg, sending it tumbling over. Luc pulled the marble bust that had been left untouched in the fray and sent it flying at the figure. Once. Twice. On the third time the figure broke apart, the magic too damaged to continue animating it.

He was spun around towards the rune circle as an arrow embedded itself into his left shoulder.

"Fuck!"

Fleur looked up and stepped between him and the figure. A jet of hot fire shot from her wand. The figure tried to knock another arrow but the fire burned too hot and it was quickly overwhelmed. Luc broke the arrow sticking out of his shoulder in half, grunting as the pain made his vision wobble. He looked down at the rune circle just as Fleur made it back to him.

"Luc-"

"Less concern, more rune breaking," he hissed.

She nodded and reached behind her, withdrawing a small knife. It was a ritual dagger, he realized as he glimpsed the ornate handle and ruby crystal. The blade was made of what appeared to be bone.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"It can only be disrupted with more blood magic," she said as she began to roll up her sleeve. "This knife is made of Veela bones and the handle is embedded with Veela hair. It'll do nicely. You'll need to help me."

"INFERI!" they heard, whipping their heads around.

Several of the creatures were now in the hallway beyond the doors, and Luc could see that Alice had been dragged within. Neville and Dawlish sent fire and blasting hexes at the creatures as quickly as possible.

"Proudfoot, Seamus, Terry, keep those damn things back!" yelled James as he ducked another spell. "Frank, stop fucking about with that suit of armor and check on Sirius." A jet of green light missed the man by mere centimeters and he returned the favor by sending the downed tiger back at its creator. "Harry, you go low, I go high?"

"Got it, old man!" yelled Harry as he blasted one of the inferi back into the hallway.

Harry and James moved in sync, timing their spells to give Riddle no room to maneuver, yet the man was still pressing the attack, somehow launching his own assault in between spellfire. A flock of birds erupted from James' wand and a whip from Harry's caught Riddle in the leg long enough to stop his movements. Water erupted from James' wand, but it hit hot air, dissipating into steam as Riddle broke free from the whip, tugging it hard, sending Harry off balance.

Riddle pushed Harry away with a gust of wind and pivoted, catching a cutting curse from James in the shoulder. He ignored it, or the effects didn't register, and hit James in the knee with a light of pure black. The smell of burnt flesh entered the air as James cried out. Riddle smiled and, with a flourish of his wand, the floor in front of James shifted, made a fist, and stretched itself up to punch him in the gut.

Pain in his forearm turned Luc back to Fleur as she withdrew the dagger from his skin. She repeated the process on her own before looking at him.

"Rub your blood along that side of the hexagon. We have to disrupt the foundation of the circle, not the elements. Break the foundation, break the magic," she said.

They worked quickly, and Luc resisted the urge to turn around when a cry from Frank and a roar from Harry sounded, but he kept working. Kept to his task. So long as they distracted Riddle, they could do what needed to be done. His fingertip, smeared in his blood, touched Fleur's blood and he leaned back.

"What now?" he asked.

"This is going to hurt," she said, dropping the voice modulation and pouring regret into her words. "This is only supposed to be done with another Veela."

"For Gabby," he said with determination.

She nodded.

"For Gabby," she whispered as she placed her palms into the blood, one in hers and the other his.

"Blood of my family, bathed in fire," she said, lifting her left hand and flicking it into the circle.

Fire shot through his veins and he nearly gasped, but gritted his teeth before the cry could escape his lips.

"The bones of my ancestors, shaped and sharpened."

She lifted her right hand and smeared it across the entire diameter of the hexagon.

The fire spread from his veins and engulfed his whole body. He cried out as tears leaked from his eyes. He clenched his fists into balls, digging his fingernails into his palms until he drew blood. His body felt as if it were being squeezed, crushed under a massive weight while simultaneously being run over a bed of knives.

"Body of my kin, provide for me as I give unto thee."

A brilliant light erupted from Fleur just as the pain overtook him and he shut his eyes. Sound disappeared and all that was left was a horrified scream that wouldn't stop.

It took him a moment to realize the scream was his own.

"Dearest Gabby…" he thought, fighting through the pain as he fell onto his side.

"NO, STOP IT!" he heard and then everything went still as the sound of breaking glass and the rush of wind swept through the room.

The pain stopped. The fire subsided and his body was no longer being crushed and stabbed. He opened his eyes and saw the broken circle, a jagged crack running through it and its light gone, a simple carving that held no more power. Fleur turned to him, and even though she remained hooded, he could see her smile as the light continued to emanate from her.

"You, insolent little half-breed!" roared Riddle.

Fleur darted forward and fire flew from her wand as she rolled next to Harry, crouching down as he continued to rain his own spells down upon the furious Riddle. Her light engulfed Harry, fed into his own aura, and their magic mixed, completing and feeding off the other. The two said nothing, Fleur continuing to box Riddle into position while Harry sent shards of broken glass shooting at the man from every direction.

He blocked some, but others got through, cutting into his arms and face. Fleur moved, rolling to the left, twirling her wand upward as the desk launched itself into the air and directly at Riddle's feet. He put up a shield, but her aim hadn't been to hit him. Instead, it crashed into the space before him, shattering. Harry stepped back, gathering up broken pieces and sending them quickly at the man from the side. Faster and faster he moved, until every piece of the desk was flying, each one a sharp blade or blunt hammer in its own right.

Riddle would have been able to survive the barrage but he was tiring, and the three of them knew it. Just as the barrage ended, Riddle's wand flew from his hand and landed in Fleur's open palm. In one swift motion she broke it in half. Harry followed it up with another set of whips, wrapping them around Riddle's body as his momentary shock left him open. The whips coiled around him tightly but his sheer rage cut them and he lunged for Fleur.

She stepped back but the blood magic faded and she staggered. As she fell, Luc flicked his wand and sent the discarded knife flying across the room, watching as it embedded itself into Riddle's stomach.

.

.

Harry saw her fall and brought his wand up, intent on pushing her further back and out of the reach of the desperate man, but an unseen knife sailed through the room. After a brief flight it pushed into Riddle's stomach, stopping his momentum and he fell to the ground. He clutched at the knife and gasped from the pain.

Riddle looked around wildly, and Harry could see the panic in his eyes, the complete loss of composure. Gone was the well dressed aristocrat, replaced by a man who clearly believed he'd lost everything. At that moment, he looked like just another criminal who had finally realized he'd lost.

Fleur stood back up and dusted herself off. The hood mostly hid her face, but he could see the conflict in her eyes as she turned towards the man. She took a few steps and raised her wand, pointing it directly at him. Riddle's eyes went wide for just a moment before he smiled.

"Do it," he challenged before hissing at the pain in his stomach. "End my life you dirty, useless half-breed!"

"Don't do it," Harry said softly, walking up to her and placing a hand on her forearm. She didn't lower her wand but she did turn towards him.

"Why not?" she whispered. "Why should he get to live while my sister is dead? Why shouldn't he suffer the same fate?"

"Because you're better than he is."

"Maybe I don't want to be better," she hissed. There were tears in her voice as her arm began to shake.

Harry couldn't imagine what she was going through. At least not fully. Here she was, face to face with her sister's killer, in a position to get revenge, and all she had to do was take it. All the pain he'd inflicted upon her family could be paid back in kind with just a whisper.

It wouldn't give her peace though.

"Even so, would you be able to look in the mirror?" he asked. "Would you be able to live with yourself, knowing that your quest for justice was actually just a crusade for revenge? Would you be able to sit at her grave and think that she was proud of what you'd done?"

"You don't know what my sister would have wanted. You didn't know her."

He couldn't deny the sting in her words. Or the truth.

"You're right, I don't and I didn't," he agreed, removing his hand from her forearm. "but I don't think she'd have wanted this. If you do this, it's because it's what you want. It's for you, not her. Nobody here will stop you, and I'll not think less of you for it, but if you go through with it then you need to be honest with yourself about why."

A hand fell on her shoulder and she looked over to see Luc smiling down at her.

"She wouldn't want this," he said. "She'd want you to move forward. I know it's difficult, Merlin do I know, but you…we've got to stop at some point. We got justice. Let that be the end of it."

Her arm dropped and she turned away in frustration. Harry sighed in relief. She could have killed Riddle and none of them would have blamed her. They'd have reported that he'd been killed in the fight under completely normal circumstances. It would have made the world a safer place and everyone would have taken that secret to their graves.

But she'd have killed a part of herself in the process.

Harry looked at Luc.

"You two go to the remaining circles and make sure they're dormant. And destroy the artifacts." He paused briefly, looking at the man's shoulder. He'd been injured and had done a decent job of patching himself up. "Get that shoulder looked at soon."

Luc nodded and led Fleur from the room. The wards had fallen when the circle had been destroyed, but there was power in walking out of the door. In leaving behind this part of their lives, it allowed them to look to the future. Whatever that may bring. Harry hoped that today had closed a dark chapter in both their lives but opened a new, better one.

The two popped away and Harry sighed as he surveyed the room. Frank was tending to Sirius, who had transformed back but was still unconscious. James was nursing his knee, still black and burnt. Tonks was with Dawlish and Proudfoot, the latter of whom was still unconscious. Alice would need medical attention. Neville and Seamus were missing, likely sent to get more manpower, while Terry guarded the entrance.

Harry was tired, exhausted. And hungry. So hungry. Nothing to do but wait for the cleanup crew now, though. He looked down at Riddle, still holding the knife in pain.

"Such a waste of potential," he muttered. "So brilliant, but led astray by a madman. You could have been a force for good."

He sighed and looked around with tired eyes. They'd gotten lucky, he knew that. The team hadn't bested Riddle. It hadn't been a lack of skill or knowledge that had been the downfall of Tom Riddle, either. His plan had been sound, nearly flawless. Yet for everything the evil man had done correctly, every step he'd taken to ensure success, there had been one fatal flaw.

His ego and pride hadn't allowed him to believe he'd ever be stopped or found out, and that had made him arrogant. That arrogance had been his downfall.

Riddle struggled to his knees and looked up with hate-fueled defiance. Harry shook his head in pity, angering the man further. In one motion, faster than expected and with the last of his energy, Riddle pulled the knife from his stomach before standing and plunging it directly into Harry's chest.

Harry's eyes widened.

Exhaustion led to mistakes. Those were the words of Mad Eye Moody.

Such a shame he'd picked this moment to forget that lesson.

Muffled screams were the last thing Harry heard before he fell backwards and was thrown into darkness.

Chapter Text

Harry gasped and his eyes snapped open.

Bright light filled his vision as he sat up, clutching at his chest wildly, attempting to grab onto the knife. He found nothing. He breathed in deeply several times, checking again and again for any sign of the object that had, most assuredly, been lodged into him. The bright light slowly receded and his surroundings came into focus. He looked around frantically.

"Kings Crossing?" he asked aloud.

It was the station he was familiar with, and yet, not. Small details were out of place. The architecture was off. Incorrect colour stone. Benches ever-so-slightly out of place. He recognized it as Kings Crossing, but also as something that might be from a description of the station that wasn't wholly correct. As his breathing slowed and he focused, he finally noticed a woman sitting on the bench ahead of him. Her silver-blonde locks flowed down to her waist and he stood.

"Fleur?"

The woman laughed.

"She wishes she was as cute as me," she replied with a smile.

He walked towards her and noticed that she had on muggle clothes, a simple pair of jeans and a form-fitting shirt, covered by a deep purple jacket. Her blue eyes looked up at him as he approached and she smiled, patting the spot next to her. He sat down and stared at her.

"I know my sister has told you it's rude to stare," she said humorously.

Sister?

"Gabby?" he asked. "Gabrielle Delacour?"

She nodded and hugged his arm.

"Second try isn't bad, though I think Gabrielle Bennet has a better ring to it, don't you?"

A million questions raced through his mind, but he took a deep breath and pushed them away. He steadied himself and brought his thoughts under control. He didn't know where he was, but he got the sense that would be answered in time. He didn't know what had happened to him, but that too would have its answer, he knew it. How he knew it, he hadn't the slightest clue.

"What are you doing here?" he settled on.

She giggled.

"Waiting for the train."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Just…waiting for the train?"

"Yep," said Gabby, popping the P at the end. She looked around. "How'd I do? On a scale of terrible to an exact replica, how's the place look?"

He took another look around and his brow furrowed. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"There was an attempt," he deadpanned.

She swatted his arm playfully.

"Arsehole," she pouted, "I've never seen your train station before but Luc told me about it once. I think I did pretty damn good."

She looked over and saw that one of the benches had horns.

"With one or two exceptions," she admitted.

"Where are we?" asked Harry.

"That's, ah, difficult to explain," she said with a nervous laugh. "You've been through quite the ordeal, mister."

"Am I dead?" he asked seriously.

She moved her head back and forth.

"Dead as in, your heart stopped between one and three times dead? Or like, dead as in, corpse dead?" she asked.

"Corpse dead?" he tried.

She smiled.

"Then no, you aren't dead. At least you weren't the last time I checked." Her eyes widened. "Oh, it would be so embarrassing if you kicked the bucket while I was getting everything ready. It would be awkward for like, ever."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I still don't even understand what this," he gestured around them, "is."

She smiled and sent him a warm, understanding look that made him think of Fleur. The way she would glance at him with eyes that said far more than words.

"You were stabbed with a ritual knife," Gabby explained, looking down, almost as if in embarrassment. "A Veela ritual knife. It did things to your body and magic."

"Like?"

"Well it nearly pierced your heart, but they fixed that right away," she said, adding the last bit quickly as his panic rose. "The magic in the knife though, it had an effect on the magic within you."

He scratched his head and contemplated her words.

"It must have been some knife to bring me here," he mused.

"Oh no, I did that," she said with a smirk.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

She shrugged.

"Because I wanted to meet the guy my sister's been shagging." She looked him up and down, biting her bottom lip. "Honey, let me just say, that woman has taste."

He blushed and looked away, causing her to laugh. A smile played across his own face before he chuckled as well.

"Your sister was right," he said, "you're incredibly funny."

"And witty. Don't forget witty!"

"Fishing for compliments are we?" he asked teasingly.

"Damn straight Mister!" she replied smugly.

He rolled his eyes.

"Are you ever serious?"

She shook her head.

"I'm Gabby. Your godfather is Sirius. Perhaps you hit your head when you fell."

He laughed again. Fleur had told him that Gabby was the life of every party and had never met a person who wasn't her best friend. He understood what she meant completely as he looked down at the short woman. There was something in the way she put him at ease that made him want to protect her, like the younger sister he never had. The way she laughed at her own jokes without a care in the world nearly made him forget where they were.

"In any case," he said, letting the smile drop off his face, "what happened with the knife?"

She nodded and looked past him at the endless row of columns that lined the infinite hallway.

"It was used in a blood magic ritual and was still teeming with everything that entailed," she revealed. "Blood magic can be dark and nasty, but it can also be beautiful and full of life. In either case, it's powerful stuff. How that awful beast of a man didn't die instantly is a mystery. When it cut into your heart and mixed with your magic, it sent you into a kind of…magical shock is the best way to describe it."

"Magical…shock?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

She nodded.

"Yeah, it's like regular shock, but with magic," she said, smirking and letting him know she was aware of how unhelpful that was.

"So I'm alive?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Will I wake up?"

She nodded again.

"Very soon, I suspect," she said, her voice filling with sadness. "The healers did a great job with your physical injuries, but the soul needs time to heal when it's damaged."

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked.

"Long enough for the people who care about you to worry," she whispered.

"Is there anything you want me to tell Fleur?" he asked. "Or Luc?"

She shook her head.

"You won't remember this when you wake up," she said. "I'm actually going to be in a lot of trouble for doing this, but it was worth it."

"Why do you think that it was worth it?"

She looked up at him and smiled.

"Because I can see that you're a good person. That you're going to be good for my sister." A tear fell from her eye. "She's blamed herself for what happened, and some of it was justified, but not the amount she put on her own shoulders. I can see that, with you by her side, she might finally begin the long journey to forgiving herself."

She wiped the tear away and smiled at him.

"Luc needs people in his life too. A sister and a brother is as good a start as any. He's hurting, but with you two I know he can get through anything."

He felt the air shift and his eyes began to feel heavy. He sighed and put an arm around her, comforting her as she rested her head on him. They sat in a short comfortable silence and both looked forward to the other side of the train tracks.

"Tell me a story about you and Fleur," he said, stifling a yawn.

"You won't remember," she said again.

"I may not remember up here," he replied, tapping his head, "but I have a feeling I'll remember in here." He tapped his heart.

His eyes began to droop as Gabby launched into a story about two sisters who depended on each other for all things big and small. How the younger sister voiced her confusion about a man whom she'd just met, but already felt deeply for. About the older sister who told her to follow her heart, as it had never let her down. The fight they'd had when the younger sister pointed out that she couldn't be the only one who opened their heart to someone.

Her voice faded and his head dropped slowly. His breathing slowed and he let the darkness take him once more, its warm embrace a stark contrast to the coldness he'd felt the last time.

Gabby looked up at him and smiled.

"Be well, Harry," she whispered. "You deserve happiness too."

.

.

The first thing he noticed was the weight on his hand. It was warm, squeezing his palm tightly. His eyes fluttered open and he blinked rapidly, adjusting to the dim light of the room. His bed had been propped up and he looked down at the hand gripping his in his lap.

He smiled at the sleeping form of Fleur, her back rising and falling as she rested on her other arm. He looked up and saw the lamp across the room, his mother sitting in the chair next to it reading a book.

"Mum," he tried, but it came out hoarse and raspy.

Lily looked up at him and her eyes widened. She closed the book and placed it on the table before making her way over to him. She conjured a glass of water with a straw, handing it to him gently.

"Small sips," she whispered.

He placed the straw in his mouth and sipped the water, resisting the urge to quip about not being a child. The cool liquid hit his throat and relaxed him. He kept drinking, only now realizing how parched he'd been. He finished the glass and handed it back to Lily with a nod.

"Merlin, I needed that," he whispered.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. As she leaned back he saw tears in her eyes.

"Don't cry, mum."

She shook her head.

"Happy tears," she said as she wiped her eyes. "The healers guessed you'd wake up either today or tomorrow."

"How long have I been out?"

"A week," Lily said.

His eyes widened at the news. The last thing he'd remembered was the knife going into his chest, falling, and then waking up. He felt the stiffness in his back and neck, confirming that he'd been off his feet for some time.

"Was it that bad?" he asked.

She sat down in the chair next to the bed.

"They fixed the physical damage and removed the foreign magic. They didn't know what to do when you didn't wake up the next day." She brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face. "The healers said your magic must have been damaged worse than expected. That you'd wake up at some point within the week."

She pointed down at Fleur.

"She's been here almost around the clock. That nice, good looking man named Luc made her go home a couple times but the healers say she was back a few hours later."

He smiled and looked at Fleur. She seemed troubled, her brow knitted, and he could feel the tension in her body as she slept restlessly. He placed his other hand on top of hers and she stirred. She blinked and looked at him, eyes going wide.

"Harry!" she exclaimed before launching herself at him, enveloping him in a tight hug. He groaned as his body protested and she jumped back.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, bringing her hands up to her mouth.

He chuckled.

"It's fine. That's a nice way to be greeted."

Fleur noticed that Lily was standing there and smiled sheepishly.

"Mrs. Potter, I didn't see you. When did you get here?"

"About an hour ago," replied Lily as she moved towards the door. "You two can talk for a few minutes while I fetch the healer. They'll want to give Harry a check and potions to help him get back on his feet."

The door closed behind her and silence settled in the room. Fleur sat back down and grabbed his hand once more, gently stroking his thumb with hers. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," he heard her say.

He opened his eyes and saw her looking down, as if ashamed. He took his other hand and placed it under her chin, lifting her head to look at him.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about. This was not your fault."

She shook her head.

"It was my knife. My ritual that put you into a coma," she argued.

"Fleur, you saved countless lives," he reminded her with a small, warm smile. "You're a hero."

A laugh escaped her lips.

"What?" he wondered.

"Your father said the same thing," she replied with a smile. "Said if he could give me an award he would."

"He does, at times, have his moments."

What seemed like an army of healers entered through the door, followed closely by Lily. They pushed Fleur away from the bed and began running a series of diagnostic spells on him. One after another, on and on, until finally they had decided he was in good health.

That's when the potions started.

One for strength. One for his back. One to get rid of the soreness in his legs. Each one shoved into his face in rapid succession. He wondered to himself how they managed to make so many potions that didn't conflict with one another, an important concept drilled into new recruits when they became Aurors.

All throughout the process he could see Fleur in the corner with her arms folded across her chest, glaring daggers at the healers. She was concerned for him, he knew that, but the look in her eyes made it clear she would happily cause the group bodily harm if they didn't finish soon. His mum looked on the verge of losing her composure as she watched the blonde fume at being made to stand aside and watch.

As he downed the last potion he swore there was smoke beginning to rise from her, as if a fire had been started and was about to turn into an inferno.

The healers exited after telling him he would get a final check before being discharged in the morning. After the door shut he heard a huff.

"They sure took their sweet time," Fleur pouted, dropping back into her seat next to the bed.

It would be the first time of many that Harry was taken, completely and without effort, by the woman's pouting face. The way her lower lip poked out just far enough to be cute, but not far enough to be silly. In that moment he knew he was powerless against it.

The door opened and Fleur growled.

"What now-oh, James," Fleur said, her face shifting from annoyance to a smile in an instant.

James walked in and hugged Lily, nodding to Fleur in appreciation. He looked at Harry with a smile.

"Sure took your time waking up," he said. "Must you always be so dramatic?"

Harry smirked.

"You're the one who's always going on about how you taught me everything I know," Harry said. "Guess I learned it from you."

James smiled widely as he leaned over and hugged Harry. The two held each other for a moment, both conveying without words the same message. That they were glad the other was okay. That they had been worried.

"What happened to Riddle after I passed out?" Harry asked as James stood up.

"Tonks blasted him out of the window," he said. "Though that only happened because Luc missed and my own spell arrived too late."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It was never a good thing when lives were lost on a raid, from either side, but this one was different. The world was safer without Tom Riddle in it. Even locked in Azkaban the man would have been a potential threat, his goals and values potentially passing to someone else. With him dead that chance was lessened.

"How's Tonks holding up?" he asked, knowing the cheerful woman had never killed anyone before.

James waved his hand dismissively.

"She became a legend in the Ministry overnight, so she'll be fine. Alice retired after she was treated here, but I can't say I blame her." He rubbed the back of his neck. "The Minister wasn't particularly thrilled with our plan."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Did you get into trouble?"

"No, just a bit of a verbal reprimand," James assured him. "Nothing I haven't withstood before. Once we explained to everyone what we stopped, and the Unspeakables got to examine the scene themselves, most of the naysayers kept their mouths shut."

"Most?"

"Draco was still complaining," James laughed. "Hermione says it's because we made a bunch of paperwork for them and he's being grumpy about it."

"Have you tried punching him?" asked Harry. "I find that's both effective and incredibly therapeutic."

James looked over at Fleur and raised an eyebrow.

"I assume that the mysterious Shadow that helped us won't be making any public appearances between now and forever?"

Fleur nodded.

"I have it on good authority that she's retired for good."

"Splendid!" James said with a smile. He gripped Harry's shoulder before he and Lily turned to leave. "We're glad you're awake again, son. When you're released we'll need to get you over to the Ministry. Everyone wants to talk to you. After that, we have a party."

"We could not," suggested Harry.

A look of shock passed over Lily's face.

"I guess I'll just have to tell Elphias we need his help with our garden then," she said with a dramatic sigh.

"I am her only son, yet she forsakes me with such ease! The pain of this betrayal shall never fade," Harry said with mock hurt.

His parents laughed and left the room, leaving Fleur and Harry alone. He looked over at her and moved to the side of the bed, making room for her to crawl in next to him. She looked tired, despite the fact that she'd been sleeping when he awoke, and he could tell she'd had very little recently. His heart fluttered as she snuggled into him.

"Thank you for watching over me while I recovered," he whispered into her hair.

"It was all I could think about," she whispered back. "Do you…do you remember anything from while you were asleep? Any dreams?"

He gave her words some thought and, for a brief instant, he felt like he was about to recall something. Just as quickly as it came it slipped away, past the reach of his mind and disappearing into nothing. A feeling settled in his chest.

"I don't, but I feel like I should," he tried to explain. "Something slips away each time I think about it, but I have this feeling in my chest. A good feeling."

"Really?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, it's a good feeling. It's warm and hopeful. I don't know why I feel it, or where it came from, but that's what I have." He scratched his head. "Alternatively, the knife made my heart warmer than it was before. Magic is weird."

She swatted him playfully and gripped him tighter.

"We should go somewhere, after you get out," she said.

He nodded.

"That sounds lovely."

They laid there for some time, neither wanting to sleep, just enjoying the company. At some point the door creaked open and they looked over to see Luc sneaking into the room. Harry rolled his eyes as the man quietly shut the door with care.

"If you were trying to be unassuming then you've failed," Harry called. "Sneaking around a hospital is pretty high up there on the creepy meter."

Luc shook his head as he approached the bed, smiling down at Fleur as she glared at him.

"We're trying to sleep," she said.

"Is that what you kids call it these days?" he asked with a smile.

Harry lifted his arm and held out his hand, gripping Luc's forearm when the man returned the gesture. The two locked eyes and nodded, a silent understanding passing between them. Luc had likely saved Fleur's life, and Harry would forever be grateful to him for that. Harry had helped Luc stop the man who had killed the love of his life. Bonds forged in battle were difficult to break, and Harry knew he'd made a brother for life.

"Lily owled me and said you weren't leaving the hospital again," Luc said as he stepped back from the bed. "She asked me to come and retrieve you…again."

"I don't need retrieving," Fleur scoffed.

"The bags under your eyes beg to differ," he shot back. "I thought I'd drag you back home for a bit but it seems the man of the hour has returned to the living. Feeling better?"

Harry nodded.

"Yes, much, though I think one of the healers slipped me a sleeping potion, so forgive me if I fall asleep."

Luc shrugged.

"No worries, mate. Just glad you're awake. They're going to want to see you at the Ministry."

"Yeah, my dad said as much," Harry said with a grimace. "He didn't tell me if they've lifted my suspension or not."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," Luc said with a smirk. "Your team will probably murder anyone who tries to say you need to get fired. In any case, it's good to have you back. I'll leave you lovebirds to it. Don't forget the contraceptives, Fleur."

Before she could respond, Luc retreated from the room, winking at them as he closed the door. Fleur huffed and snuggled back into Harry.

"Wanker," she whispered, causing Harry to chuckle.

"What was that about?" he asked with a yawn.

Fleur huffed.

"The blood magic ritual I used to break the circle was a…veela fertility ritual."

"Like, for making babies?" he asked.

"Yes, Harry, like for making babies," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Jokes on Luc though, because the ritual effects both participants."

Harry laughed.

"So he's…?"

She nodded.

"Luc Bennet is currently walking around with a very loaded wand," she confirmed.

He laughed again before pressing a kiss into her hair. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the mattress.

"I'll have to give him hell for that."

.

.

Harry stepped into the conference room and let out a low sigh. He'd been discharged by the hospital staff, who all made him promise to come back for regular checkups for at least a month. He had no intention of keeping that promise, but it allowed him to escape their poking and prodding, so he'd just smiled and nodded. Now he was wondering if he shouldn't have remained.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Potter."

He smiled and nodded.

"Thank you for making room in your schedule, Madam Bones. It's not often I get called to the department head's conference room."

She shook his hand and indicated for him to take a seat. He glanced at the other three, noticing James, Hermione, and even Draco were giving him apologetic looks.

"We felt it best if you could clear up a few minor details for us as soon as possible," she explained.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Madam Bones, I have the utmost respect for you and your position, but let's not beat around the bush. You're here to decide if you'll give me my job back or not."

"What makes you think that?" the older woman asked.

He saw what appeared to be a hint of respect in her eyes before she schooled her features into an unreadable mask. He gestured towards Hermione and Draco.

"If you wanted to clean up some minor details then you wouldn't have brought two lawyers with you." He narrowed his eyes. "You also addressed me as Mr. Potter, which makes me think that I'm about to be let down easily after a bad date."

"Harry," James said warningly, but Bones held up a hand.

"It's alright James, I appreciate his honesty," she said with a smile. "You're right, Harry, this isn't really about what happened. It's about your involvement."

He resisted the urge to sigh, settling for nodding his head.

"You have to understand," she continued, "there's a lot of pressure on our department right now. From basically everywhere, the Minister being at the top of that list. A week ago the Unspeakables had to undertake the largest muggle obliviation job in history."

His eyes went wide.

"That's…actually kind of impressive. That many, huh?" he asked.

Hermione snorted before catching herself, smoothing out her robes and coughing into her hands. Bones, for her part, looked supremely unimpressed.

"Yes, though Saul said it was good practice, so he thinks you should do it again." She rubbed her forehead. "Let's start with you investigating a case while you were suspended."

Harry shook his head. He wanted to have a nice, home cooked meal, work in his parents garden for a bit, and then go home to a real bed. He didn't want to be wasting time answering questions that didn't matter.

"No, that's not what you want to ask about."

"Excuse me?" she asked. "I didn't realize you were a legilimens."

"I thought you appreciated my honesty?" he asked with a smile.

She pursed her lips.

"Very well. Why is it you were working with an internationally wanted criminal?"

He smiled.

"I was, at the time, for all intents and purposes, not an Auror." His reply was casual, almost nonchalant.

"Really, Potter?" Draco said. "You aided a criminal your own office was investigating and the answer you're going with is that you were suspended?"

Harry nodded.

"Can you at least tell us why?" Bones asked, attempting to steer the conversation forward.

Harry shrugged.

"She had grievances with Tom Riddle that I wasn't made aware of until after the French Ministry gave us information on her."

"What kind of grievances?" she asked.

"Personal ones," he replied, looking her directly in the eyes, letting her know he would say no more. After a long moment she nodded.

"I'll give this to you, Madame Bones," he offered, "our goals and those of the Shadow aligned. When it became clear that the situation was far beyond what had been anticipated I went straight to Head Auror Potter."

Bones sighed and nodded her head before closing her eyes. She sat there for a few moments composing herself before looking back at him.

"Personally, I have no issues with anything that the team has reported," she said with a smile. "I'd put you back into the field today if it were up to me, but there's been a call for an inquiry by multiple department heads."

Harry scratched the back of his head.

"That makes…wait, someone leaked something to the press, didn't they?"

She nodded.

"The Prophet ran a story yesterday saying there were Inferi in muggle London." She sighed again. "You've got to look at it from my point of view. Three purebloods die, one by the hand of one of our own. We suspend that Auror, who then proceeds to go rogue. Throw in a madman who wanted to kill all muggleborns, had a plan that seemed like it might have succeeded, and you can see how I'm in a difficult spot."

He nodded. He understood her position quite clearly and he'd been prepared for this to happen. The moment he didn't turn Fleur in, the moment he decided to help her take Riddle down, he knew there would be consequences. He couldn't just operate outside of official channels, run back to the team for help when things became too much for him to handle, and expect to suffer no ill effects. They may have saved the day, but the way they'd gone about it had been, at best, a gray area.

"Then keep my suspension in place for a while longer," he suggested. "The public will forget about this eventually. They'll find the next thing to move on to, especially if you all leak that the team stopped a dangerous dark wizard from hurting a lot of muggleborns."

"You think that will help?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I do. Purebloods like Lucius Malfoy probably already know Riddle is dead," he explained. "Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Malfoy stands to lose a lot of money with the man's death. If the public knows he was going to harm muggleborns then that will keep Malfoy and his lot from pushing this any further."

He looked over at James.

"Internally, keeping my suspension in place shuts everyone up. The Ministry isn't paying me while I'm suspended, and I know you guys want me back but if I've got to stay away for a bit then it's a small price to pay. Some budget catastrophe will come along eventually and suddenly nobody will care when I'm brought back."

James nodded and smiled.

"Always so practical," he quipped.

"Everything I learned, I learned from my mother," Harry shot back.

Madam Bones laughed and stood, causing everyone else to follow. She walked over to Harry and shook his hand firmly. He saw pride in her eyes. Pride and appreciation, though he didn't know if he'd earned either, he smiled at her nonetheless.

"We'll work on leaking some information carefully," she said. "Consider this an extended vacation, Mr…Auror Potter. If you find yourself bored, send an owl. I have a friend in Ireland who's always looking for tutors for his students."

Bones, Hermione, and Draco made a hasty exit from the room, leaving Harry and James alone. The two shrugged and followed after.

"So, what are you going to do with your time off?" asked James as they made it to the lift.

Harry waved at Tonks and sent her a thumbs up as he entered before looking back at James.

"I'm going to meet my girlfriend, get something to eat, and then…I don't know." He smiled. "For the first time in quite some time, I have no idea. That's kinda fun, right?"

James nodded and smiled at him.

"We're back on for regular dinners. You and Fleur."

Harry nodded as the lift closed. He realized then that a weight had lifted from his shoulders. All the tension of the last several weeks had been building in him, all culminating in the meeting today. He didn't have a job, and wouldn't for a time, but for some reason that thought was freeing. He didn't have to worry about chasing down bad guys or checking in with shady informants. At least not for a while.

As he stepped out of the Ministry he knew in a week or so he'd get restless, but for now he was content. Just as he walked to the nearest street Fleur slid up beside him, a wide smile on her face.

"How'd it go?"

He shrugged and draped an arm around her shoulder.

"I'm currently jobless, but otherwise unharmed." He smiled. "I'm good though. It's odd, I thought I'd be upset, but for now I think it might give me perspective. Distance may be a blessing."

She hugged him with one arm.

"So, what shall we get up to, Mr. Potter?"

His eyes sparkled with humour.

"How do you feel about gardening, Ms. Delacour?"

Chapter Text

Laughter rang out as twilight hung in the sky, slowly fading into night as the sound of the ocean waves filled the air. Two fires were burning on the beach, the entire Auror department lounging around them. Tonks, Sirius, and Seamus were lighting fireworks, earning cheers from Terry and Neville with each explosion.

Fleur was teaching James how to make a s'more, the older Potter man's eyes wide with astonishment as Lily looked on with amusement. The rest were spread about, talking quietly as they swapped stories or ate the endless supply of food that Dawlish had somehow acquired. Nobody had been brave enough to ask him where he got it from.

Harry leaned back in his chair and surveyed it all, smiling as Hanna wrapped her arms around Neville from behind, resting her head on his shoulder as they looked up. Neville had finally put in his notice to James and would be starting as the new Herbology professor at Hogwarts in the fall. He was happy for him, and more importantly, proud of him for achieving his dream.

He felt someone drop into the chair next to him and turned, smiling at Alice.

"I'm glad you and Frank could make it," he said.

She shrugged as she sipped her drink.

"I may not be an Auror anymore, but we'd have never missed this celebration, even if it didn't involve Neville," she assured him. They both looked out over the festivities, watching as Frank demonstrated some illusion magic to Proudfoot, who's eyes widened at the effects. "How are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

Alice pursed her lips.

"You know what I mean, young man. It's been almost a year since the greenhouse."

He frowned and looked at his drink. He'd thought about that place nearly every day since waking up, and he doubted that would stop anytime soon. They were always there, the feelings of self-doubt and disgust, but they'd been tempered. By time. By distance. By the words of friends who'd finally made him see that he wasn't slipping into some sort of dark path. By the actions of a woman who'd never left his side since that day, always there with a wink and words to build up his confidence.

Harry looked up at Alice and smiled.

"I'm good," he determined with a nod. "I'll always think about it, and there will always be doubt, but I've come to realize that you all were right. Things were never going to end happily that day. Bellatrix was going to do everything in her power to ensure we didn't leave that greenhouse alive."

Alice smiled and patted his knee before chuckling.

"I'll confess," she said, changing the subject, "I didn't think this was what we'd be celebrating."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"And what exactly were you expecting?"

She nodded her head towards Fleur.

"Figured you two would be getting married," she said with a smirk.

"Not you as well," he whined, placing his face in his palm. "Everyone keeps telling us to get married. Can't we just enjoy being together?"

"Sure you can, dear," she said with a pat on his shoulder. "It's just that everyone's kind of jealous of the two of you."

His head cocked to the side.

"Jealous?"

Alice rolled her eyes.

"Oh please, don't play the fool, Harry. Everyone can see the way you two look at each other. Like everything falls away and there's nothing else in the world."

He rubbed the back of his neck as his face flushed crimson. He glanced over at Fleur, now deep in conversation with Lily, and smiled. Alice wasn't wrong, he knew because that's exactly what it was like to look into Fleur's eyes. As soon as he saw her, nothing else mattered. It was just him and her.

"What if I mess things up?" he asked, turning back to Alice. "What if I do something so colossally stupid that I can't fix it? How do I keep from doing that?"

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and smiled.

"There isn't anything you can do that would make that woman turn away from you." Her voice was soft, but filled with conviction. "Your dad used to say that everyone should find someone who looks at them the way Remus looks at textbooks. Now he says everyone should find someone who looks at them the way Harry and Fleur look at each other."

His voice caught in his throat at her words, touched by the sentiment. She smiled at him again and stood up, wandering over towards Frank, leaving Harry to his thoughts. Once again he looked over at Fleur, taking in her features. It wasn't her beauty that attracted him. It wasn't her figure or her allure.

It was her warmth. The way she made him feel safe. How, no matter how far apart they were, he always knew she was thinking about him. It was how their hands always seemed to find the others when they went for a walk. How she knew just the right thing to say to get him to blush.

It was how, even in the dim light of a night like tonight, her eyes caught his and a wide smile spread across her face.

"Oi, you lot!" he heard, breaking eye contact with Fleur and turning towards the fire. Luc stood with his back to the water holding a bottle of wine in his hand. "I've got something to say!"

The fireworks stopped and the conversation died as they all looked over at the tall man. He cleared his throat.

"Right, so I know we're celebrating Harry getting his job back after nearly a year," he said as everyone gave a celebratory yell, "and Neville finishing his mastery and leaving the dreadful Ministry."

"Please make sure to look after him, Nev," Harry called. "I'm still shocked that Dumbledore is letting a Frenchman teach children how to fly brooms. Madam Hooch was perfect and then the old man turned around and gave the job to this prat? He's going senile."

Everyone laughed and Luc sent a mock glare in Harry's direction. He simply winked back at the man and took a sip of his own beer.

"I'm the best damn flight instructor your little wizarding school has ever seen, Potter. Perhaps your students will be able to fly straight once they've got competent instruction. Anyway," Luc said, "I just want to give a toast."

He stopped and looked down briefly. Harry knew he was thinking about Gabby, wishing she were here with them tonight.

"I've been very lucky in my life," Luc continued, "I came from a caring family. I went to the best magical school in the world, and I made friends that would carry me through the ups and downs of adolescence. I found happiness. I found love."

He paused for only a moment.

"And then that was taken from me."

Luc looked up at the group.

"But I've come to realize that even tragedy can be a blessing because I found something else." He looked over at Harry and Fleur. "I found people willing to lift me up, dust off my robes, and help me move forward. People who'd go to any lengths to ensure I regained happiness, live a good life, and even tell me when I'm being an arsehole."

He held up his wine.

"To the family we choose, not the one we're given."

Everyone cheered and took a sip of their drinks before Luc looked around.

"Alright, enough of that shit, let's get the rest of these fireworks lit!"

.

.

As the sun rose Harry sat hugging his knees, the cool ocean air washing over him. The party had picked right back up after Luc's toast, going all the way until Sirius and Tonks had passed out trying to outdrink the other. After helping them to their beds, he'd seen the sun was starting to rise and chose to get a bit of a view before sleep.

He shivered, and just before he could think to go fetch his wand Fleur sat down next to him, draping a blanket over his shoulders as she snuggled up next to him.

"Decided to watch the sunrise?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Yeah, figured it would be a good thing to see before I go to sleep. You?"

She rested her head on his shoulder.

"I never sleep well when you're not beside me," she replied softly. "Are you looking forward to going back?"

Harry nodded.

"I think I am. It's been nice, having a break. My uncle Moony letting me work at the foundation was rewarding, but I know what I'm good at. What I enjoy doing. I've been feeling restless, so it'll be good to get back to it."

The two stared out over the water as daylight began to make itself known.

"Did my mum try to talk you into getting married again?" he asked.

"Of course," she confirmed with a giggle. "So did your dad and Sirius. Though I think your godfather might have been proposing to me, not telling me to propose. It was difficult to decipher."

Harry chuckled. "Just Alice for me this time."

She looked up at him with humour in her eyes.

"What are they going to think when they find out you proposed to me a week ago?"

He shrugged.

"Mum and dad will be mad, but they'll get over it. They'll understand, even if they don't like it. Sirius will think it's funny. Luc will be smug because he's the only one that knew the whole time."

He adjusted his position to wrap an arm around her shoulder. They'd thought about announcing their engagement during the party, but it had been Neville's night just as much as his, and neither had wanted to take that from the man.

"We could make it a double announcement," she said.

He raised an eyebrow and looked down at her.

"I don't follow."

She smiled and patted his cheek.

"You're gonna be a papa, Mr. Delacour."

His eyes widened and the world lost focus as her words registered. She quickly captured his lips in a kiss, keeping him in the present and away from the edge of spiraling. She smiled and he smiled back at her with joy. Her warmth calmed him, soothed his nerves, and pushed aside his newfound fears. There would be time for that later. For now, he simply let the news sink in fully, in all its wondrous glory.

A father. He was going to be a father.

He looked down at her with a loving eye. He didn't know how to be a dad and he certainly didn't know how to raise a child. He was surrounded by examples of exceptional parents, but there was no guarantee he'd be one himself. Looking into Fleur's eyes, however, he was certain of one thing, if nothing else.

"You're going to be a great mother, Mrs. Potter."