Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended
Ghosts in My Attics
Sometimes, especially in quiet days, Harry mused how different the future he imagined and the real one he lives on. Once, he had wanted to become an auror. Yet, the war has made him faced too much death, and sometime along the way, while running and hiding for his life and the curses and hexes threw a fireworks displayed above, the profession lost its glamour. Then he considered a professional quidditch. Unfortunately, this also falls short of expectation. He gave it a try for two years, but after all the excitement and living near the edge things, flying for some competitions each season seems dull. He needs challenge, and he met Neville.
Their office is a neat, seemingly ordinary building in muggle London, near the entrance of Leaky Cauldron. There is brass plague near the door marking the owners as Potter and Partners, private investigators. Most of his clients assume that partners mean Neville and whoever there before. They only half correct, but of course he and Neville never told them.
But the thing he loves best from the building is the nice, comfortable flat above. It was quite spacious, and Neville and he share it. They had thought that since both of them are single, and doesn't really need a lot of space, it would be a prudent solution. Of course, nowadays, the space has become too small for Harry's taste. Then again, he doesn't think anything sort of a manor will be large enough for him and his unwanted guess.
He was in the middle of this comfortable musing, when the bell chimed. A moment later, he could hear Neville's voice escorting what seems to be a new client inside. He straightened his pose, tried to look as professional as possible, and this time success on doing it in time with their arrival on his room.
"Hi, I am Harry Potter. What can I help you with?"
The man that entered first was about middle age, with a few silver hairs in his otherwise brown ones. His face is nothing extraordinary, just which of an honest, working man. Behind him, came a beautiful woman with red hairs. Both of their faces were lined with fatigue and worries. Neville, who made the end of the line, mouthed muggle to him.
"Mr. Potter, I am Alan Kent, and this is my wife, Barbara," the man shook Harry's hand.
"Please to meet you, sir. Do take a sit, please, and then we can talk about what our agency can do for you," Now and again, Harry was forced to admit, at least to himself, that being dragged to attend so many ministry's functions have greatly improve his public act. Nowadays, he could be as graceful and polite as any politician, around most of the people that is.
"What we would tell you is quite a delicate matter for our family, sir," Mr. Kent started speaking.
"You don't need to worry, sir, our mouth are sealed," Harry gave what Hermione has called his reassuring smile. He never told her he emulated Dumbledore for it.
The Kents exchanged a look between them, before Mr. Kent spoke again, "It is our daughter, Jessica. Lately, she has been seeing this young man,"
"And I assume you don't approve of the young man?"
Time spends first in the war and latter in this business has taught Harry to read people's behaviors. A momentary look was changed between the Kents. Mrs. Kent dipped her head a little, as if asking her husband to be the speaker. Mr. Kent took a breath, preparing himself to talk.
"You must understand, this young man, he took Jessica out until after curfew, and made her spend all her allowance buying him things. Jessica has a boyfriend before, a son of our family's friend. They seemed happy together, you know. And then, suddenly she broke up with him for this new young man about whom we know nothing,"
"Jessica is quite a willful child, being the only daughter. We have wanted child for so long before she came, and admittedly we kind of spoil her. Still, she never acted like this before. In contrary, she is quite an open kid. She always introduces her friends with us. She even used to regale the events happen to her in school every dinner to us.
We tried to talk to her, but she didn't want to listen. She kept defending her new friend, although she won't tell us anything about her reason, other that she loves him. Love! She is only sixteen," here, Mrs. Kent was forced to take a breath. It is clear that this has been a fight one too many between her daughter and her.
"This new boyfriend, what do you know about him?" Harry directed his question to Mr. Kent, mainly to give the wife a few moments to compose herself.
"His name is Leon, and he worked in a café near her school. In fact, there was where they met,"
"Yes, she told us about the nice looking young man who watch the register in the café. She said that her friend quite sure the young man is interested on her. But at that time, she was going out with Alan, and she laughed when she told us that this one wouldn't hold a candle to Alan.
Yet two weeks later she suddenly broke up with Alan, and took up with this Leon. About the same time, she started became distant and closemouthed," Mrs. Kent, apparently has regained her composure, added.
"The friends that you mentioned, who is she?" Neville asked. He has taken residence on the other single armchair in the room.
"Anna? She is Jessica's best friend. She lives in the neighborhood, and both of them were quite inseparable,"
Something from the sentences caught Harry attention, "You said were?"
"Jessica rarely spends time with her anymore since she dates Leon,"
"Please, don't take this the wrong way, but could it be a simple teenage rebellion?" Harry tried his best to appear sincere. He had found out the hard way that parents, especially worried parents, rarely like to see that their children are not the angels they thought.
"Nah, our Jessica would never do that. She maybe stubborn, but she is not an unreasonable kid," the expected defend came quickly from Mr. Kent, while Mrs. Kent silently glower at his suggestion. He silently gave a silent thank that Mrs. Kent was a muggle, because rebellious daughter or not, she seemed ready to hex him for even dare to suggest her child as other than blameless.
"Are there anybody else who we can contact for information? Somebody close to your daughter, perhaps?" Neville, ever the peacemaker, save the day.
"There is Alicia. She is Jessica's schoolmate. Jessica was not as close to her as to Anna, though, and lately they seem to fall apart as well," answered Mrs. Kent, her attention diverted.
"That's why we wanted to find out, what made our Jessica changed, and is there any way for us to separate him from this boy, because she wouldn't listen to us anymore," added Mr. Kent.
"Don't worry, Mr. Kent, Mrs. Kent, we will try our best. I am sure we can figure out something," Neville placated.
"Yes, we will start investigate today. We will contact you whenever we get some news," Harry gave them what Ginny has dubbed as his professional look. She said it radiated confidence, but still made the client thought of him as the-boy-nest-door. He secretly thought it simply made him looks stupid, but the client tended to follow Ginny's opinion.
"So, what do you think about the case?" Once the door was closed behind the Kents, Harry asked.
"It seems like the usual love-is-blind case. She is young, and in love, hence she is becoming irrational," Hermione said. She flied close to Harry desk, trying to read the notes he made.
"Don't ask me, mate. I never understand those teenage girls, even when I was a teenager myself," added Ron, commandeering the armchair Neville just vacated.
The accident happened about four months after the agency opening. There was no slippery road bathed on rain, no too dark a night, or a drunken driver. There were only some teenagers who were actually too young to drive and too giddy of excitement to pay attention on the road.
When he heard the news, he felt numb. Once, on the war times, they have imagined not surviving to see the end. It seemed there were so many ways to die, either by hexes, curses, or treachery. This seems like an anticlimax. The fat lady must hate him badly, since it was only two and a half years of peace.
He avoided the funeral planning, and kept to himself at the graveyard. He couldn't stand the sympathy or worse, the memories and what-could-have-been. He spent the night after drinking and crying and screaming. The next morning, he found that he has an epic proportion of hangover and there were two new ghosts on his flat.
"Or maybe the boy blackmailed her into it. Of course, it is possible she is simply charmed by the adult, bad boy attitude," said the lazy drawl from the sofa the Kents have occupied.
In their years of rivalry, Malfoy has accused him of being dull. Maybe he was right, because for the life of him, he never understood how in the world he ended up saddled with this one additional ghost.
He doesn't remember the exact date. It was about a few months after the golden trio became together again. Most of the original death eater had been captured and sentenced, but even two bloody wars don't make their ideas became abandoned. There were some new groups of death eater wannabe, throwing the same pithy about the sacrosanct of blood purity, and waxing new poetries of revenge. Some got it in their heads that since the Chosen One has deigned to give testimony on Draco's behalf, the Malfoy's heir must have become a blood traitor. They hexed him in the middle of Diagon Alley.
Harry has read the news on the Prophet, and was felt guilty enough to attend the funeral. When he came home, there was another freeloader on his flat. He almost got a heart attack, and rarely has a moment of peace thereafter.
"Don't forget the possibility that this is just a teenage rebellion," added Neville, who just came back from seeing the Kents out. He started towards the sofa, but Malfoy's glare made him moved to the opposite side, Harry's armchair.
"Right, so now we better find out more about this people. Let's see, Hermione, could you follow Jessica up? After all, you are the only girl in this group," Harry said, "And Ron, could you follow Alan up? I want to know more about this ex-boyfriend. Maybe the Kents got it all wrong, and Jessica left him because he is a git. After all, boys tend to act better in front of their future in laws," he continued after Hermione nodded.
"Leave it to me, mate. If he has any dirt, I'll be sure to find it,"
"Then Potter better buy glasses for you, since the only thing you can clearly see so far is food,"
"You…"
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry cut what seems to be the beginning of another tirade by Ron. Sometimes, he wondered what sin he had done to be burdened with this particular ghost, "You can follow the new boyfriend up,"
"Yes, since if he is up to no good, ferret boy here sure will know it, being the same peas in a pod and all that," it seems Ron couldn't stand not to taunt Malfoy back.
"Did Granger tell you that particular idiom, Weasel? Because I am quite sure you don't have enough brain cells to find it by yourself,"
"Ron, don't listen to him. He is not worth the time," said Hermione, now standing near her boyfriend.
"Yeah, Weasel, listen to your girlfriend. After all, unlike you, she had a brain," Malfoy smirked.
"Malfoy, shut up. All of you, maybe you can start trailing your target right now? I will hang out near the school. Neville, can you take care of the office?" If Harry ever thought whether or not someone character will stay the same after death, he has gotten his answer. He had thought that peeves was bad, but Malfoy sure could drive someone into suicide.
"Sure Harry," answered Neville. Then the other disappeared, which gave him a jump. Even after all this time, he couldn't get used to the vanishing act, which was why Malfoy took great pleasure on doing it whenever Neville was in vicinity.
Harry held back a sigh and hung his coat. He had spent the afternoon sitting in a small restaurant near the school, trying to observe the students who poured out of school. He recognized Jessica, Anna and Alicia from one of the portrait her parents left him. It seems the other two were trying to convince her about going somewhere with them, but she refused. They argued for some time, before they left Jessica alone. After secretly put a tracking charm on Anna, he cast disillusionment on himself. He wanted to wait and see whether Jessica would meet her boyfriend.
It was time like this that made him, however unwilling, thankful that he is Harry Potter, the-boy-who-live-and-defeat-Voldemort. Regularly, Wizards, with the exception of aurors, are forbidden to use magic on Muggle. Of course, theoretically private investigators can ask for a special permit from the ministry. But there were a mountain of paperwork and red tapes involved, not to mention a significant amount of restriction on the type of magic that permitted.
Yet of course, the chosen one deserves a special treatment. It only took him one conversation with Shacklebolt, currently Minister of Magic, and his permit was clear, complete with higher leniency than normal.
Ten minutes later, Leon appeared on a motorcycle, and Jessica went with him. He didn't see Hermione or Malfoy, but he was sure they followed the couple.
He tracked Anna and Alicia to the nearest mall. He spent hours trailing them in and out of various clothes stores that he could tell which kind of dress is in season. He also already tasted the recommended menu of the newest restaurant at said mall.
More than once, he tempted to use Fred and George's extendable ear. It was only the reminder that a lone ear would surely cause an uproar on muggle's establishment, and he doesn't sure even his permit could give him an immunity if the ministry ended up have to obliviate tens of people that held him back. Pity, since he really is not very good at eavesdropping.
It was clear that the girls were upset that Jessica seems to abandon them lately. There was also no doubt they both laid the blame on Leon for this change. In the other word, he gained no useful knowledge at all.
He wholeheartedly hopes the other get more information.
"I followed the girl to the café, where she flirted with his working boyfriend. Then they came back to his apartment to snog. He took her back about eleven p.m. Can you believe it? This is the middle of the week, and she didn't prepare for her class or even do her homework,"
Harry decided that it was useless to tell Hermione that their main concern is not the girl lack of diligent in school.
"I follow the ex, but there's nothing strange there, mate. A regular nice boy, if maybe a little snob," at this point, Ron gave Malfoy a look that clearly said unlike another snob. "I thought he is still fancying the girl, though, since he still keeps the picture of them together in his bedroom,"
"Just like Granger said. A real waste of my nap time, although his kissing technique is not half bad. His apartment left a lot to be desired, though. I can't imagine how someone can stand living in a tiny room like that, not to mention the atrocious furniture. It seems like he lives alone as well,"
"It looks like one of those classic stories. A nice, ordinary girl that fall in love with the wrong sort, and rebelled to her parents," Hermione concluded.
"Well, there is charm the wrong sort has, you know," drawled Malfoy, who once again has perched on the sofa.
"Like being a despicable git, maybe?"
"Maybe you are right, Hermione. But I don't want to take a conclusion just yet. I feel like there is something else here. Something that made her change, other than falling in love," Harry decided to pay no attention to Ron and Draco. Honestly, they are worse than a pair of kids most of the time.
"Then we will keep the surveillance for a few days. Maybe by then, something will turn out," Neville chimed in.
"Speak for yourself, Longbottom. Don't you know how tiresome it is to following people anywhere? Oh no, I forgot. Mostly you only stay on the office, don't you? Why is that?" taunted Malfoy.
Harry drew a long breath, trying to collect the remnant of his patient. "Good idea, Neville. Malfoy, you will do that if you still want to stay at our house." He threw a glare to the ghost direction.
Honestly, why on earth Malfoy decided to haunt his house?