Warning: This fic contains mentions of death
Head Auror Harry James Potter closed the file before he threw up.
He'd read all the reports and they all said the same thing.
He'd made the biggest mistake of his life.
Horror and grief tore at his heart, but he held them back. He couldn't break. Not here. Not now.
'Harry?' He looked up. Deputy Head Auror Terry Boot stood before him. He was looking at Harry as if he was a bomb about to go off. 'The coroner's report.'
No. 'Have you read it?'
'Yes.'
'Are they sure it's him?' Please, please let there be something, anything-
'Yes, they tested everything... Harry, I... Who's going to tell her? I mean, it's her job...
'Ask the Minister, I have to...' He needed quiet, he needed...
'Terry, you're in charge. I - I'll contact you when I know what... what I'm doing.'
Terry nodded. Harry knew he could trust him. He would make a good Head of Office once Harry was gone.
Harry gathered his things, buttoned up his long Auror coat and left the office. Along the corridors, up in the lift... Normal people with everyday lives, worried about Quidditch or their children. He had never felt so alone.
The morning crowds in the Atrium parted effortlessly to let Harry through. The "out" fireplaces were free and soon he was out in Muggle London.
He leant against a tree, fighting back tears. He should never have authorised the damn thing, never, and now...
If someone didn't stop him, he was going to hurt someone, and it would probably be himself.
Thanks to FF writer Northumbrian for two ideas in this chapter: "Terry Boot is an Auror" and "Aurors wear long black swishy coats".
