Queensmen
000
In the wake of a V-day that went off without a hitch, Harry Potter picks up the pieces of a broken London and hunts for a reason why, attracting all manner of attention, from all manner of people. Slash. AU – Non-Kingsman!Eggsy.
000
Chapter Four
With the return of power came the return of the internet.
A lot of places around the world had managed to keep their networks running somehow via satellite connection, so not everyone went dark. Everywhere was news of the rage. It had been a completely world wide event, regardless of timezone or location, almost to the second the entire world went postal all at once. What few Governments there were remaining, crumbling under the weight of their own dead but not quite gone yet, were crunching the numbers and thus far it looked as though the human population had taken a beating unlike anything ever recorded. Not even the Bubonic Plague or the Black Death had death-tolls this high. Just from the initial number crunching Harry could tell they were looking at a total world wide population loss of significantly more than four billion.
And when the total world population was just over seven billion, over half the total human population was not an acceptable margin of loss.
What the hell had even caused this?
Who had caused this?
Would they do it again?
WHY had they even done it to start with?
Harry shook his head as he glared at the small high-tech laptop in front of him. Eggsy had come back with it after raiding one of the electronic stores and while he had been tempted to tell him to put it back, looting was now just a part of their lives and it wasn't like anyone was going to fucking care about it anymore. The corporation that owned it was probably already in ruins. So Harry took it, and thanked him, and smiled that small brittle smile that was coming more and more easily as the days dragged on and humanity began to pick itself up, and the world seemed less bleak.
And then he started looking for answers.
Magic was now an open secret. Seemed as though their communities had come out of the disaster better than anyone else, especially the isolated and highly-concentrated ones. Harry frowned, sucking on his lower lip. He made a note on the paper beside him. Areas highly saturated in magic were unaffected. Areas where technology didn't work. Mobile phones still got signal even in the Ministry and Diagon Alley, and he knew that the Ministry had landlines, and the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts had a number of muggle objects imbibed with magic, things from disappearing keys to laptops that managed to work off magic. But Hogsmeade and Hogwarts were saved. He wondered about Gringotts and made another note to check. The doors had been barred when last he visited Diagon, but there was a chance the Goblins had merely withdrawn into the tunnels when the violence started.
Digging through the internet was not as easy as it seemed at first. Harry wasn't what anyone could call particularly skilled at 'google-fu', in fact, he was only a few steps away from completely computer illiterate – something that Eggsy found absolutely hilarious when Harry complained to him at the start of his search.
However, he did have an enormous well of patience that came from digging through a massive library with no understandable cataloguing system and leafing through huge heavy tomes with no index on the back page. Harry kept searching with almost unending patience long after even the most intent of internet researchers would have given up.
And his notebook began to fill under Eggsy's disbelieving gaze as he ducked in and out of the small office that had become theirs overlooking Trafalgar Square.
"'ow the fuck did you find all this?" he asked, leaning over Harry to get a look at the papers he had around him. More to the point, why did he write them down? What was so important?
"This is what I do, Eggsy," Harry told him quietly, "Before Death Day, I wasn't just a stay at home Dad. I was a cop. Magical one, I'll grant you, but my speciality was Heavy Combat and Investigations. My teacher said that if you locked a secret in a puzzle box, threw away the key, sealed it behind a wall in a dungeon, in an abandoned section of my old school, and erased your own memory of its very existence. I'd find it within a year and unravel that secret." He quirked a smirk that was half pride and half vicious satisfaction, and with the light of the laptop glinting off his glasses, it was fuckin' hot. "They weren't wrong."
Eggsy hummed and turned his attention to the papers, swallowing hard against his dry throat as he picked one of them up, Harry's spiky handwriting glaring out at him from the page. "So what does a group of Mercenaries gettin' fucked on bath-salts 'ave to do with Death Day?" he asked, scanning the writing. Rage, cannibalism, etc; tasty stuff, but he'd heard of druggies doing worse on LSD and other shit. Hell, stick a bloke on enough crap and give him a bad ride and he would go so fucking mental that he'd believe the ass eating monster coming out of his socks was real and kill himself to get away from it. Never mind what he'd so to someone if he thought they were the ass eating monster. Eggsy'd had some bad trips before on a few party drugs, legal highs and shit that got cut with something a little rougher, but he'd never been violent on it – though he witnessed a pretty nasty riot while he was too sick to do anything about it.
"It was a test run," Harry explained as he made a few more notes, dates, times, a few calculations, and then crossed it out – a lot of papers had similar information crossed out.
"Test – fer Death Day?" Eggsy demanded, unsure of whether or not to believe him as he nodded. "The fuck...?" he breathed, looking down at the seemingly unconnected data.
Uganda, 2012, a drug introduced to the water supply of a guerilla army base. Messed with their brain chemistry, amped up certain hormones, and strangled others. No one came forward to claim responsibility for the destruction of the guerilla base, the Warlord in control of those parts made some half-hearted insinuations but on the whole he seemed content to pretend they never existed. There was a star next to the Warlord's name, along with a number.
"What's the number for?" he demanded, frowning down at the page.
"He went missing briefly before the test was conducted. Vanished for a week. Came back as if nothing had happened. Suddenly had a great deal more money as well. He's not the only one. Here. List of people who went missing and then reappeared. Nothing of much note, until you put it together with the list of peoples who went missing and never came back," Harry explained, handing over two lists, one of which was numbered and starred, the other was much shorter.
Eggsy frowned overlooking the list, surprised to note that he actually recognised some of those names. Popstars, royalty, celebrities, activists, politicians, youtube stars... He wondered why these people would have been taken, and then looked at the other list, that had even more politicians, world leaders, military spokesmen and women, popular religious figures, businessmen, and even more people that Eggsy didn't recognise.
"With all these people..." he trailed off, not sure if he was really understanding what his eyes were telling him.
"You could control the world. Yes," Harry answered instead, taking the papers out of his hand. "Every single one of them has been missing since Death Day. This short list here hasn't been seen since their initial abductions, while these only went AWOL on the day. I'm searching for connections between them but the waters are getting a bit muddled. I'm combing through twitter right now, but the best connection I can find is that these people were all invited to a party that suddenly got cancelled," he said pointing to the names with an X beside them. "People forget how much of their lives they put onto things like facebook and twitter. And after Death Day everyone started sounding off on social Media to say that they were alive, and that such and such was with them. That's how I could tell that they were all missing, at first I thought it was simply because they were all dead, but going back through their history just in case painted a different picture. Seems like there was supposed to be a party before their abductions that got cancelled, quite a few of the attendees took to social media to complain or offer their opinions on the matter. Notably absent from the list of complainers are these people. Could be a coincidence, but I doubt it."
Eggsy nodded seriously, studying the names, Iggy Azalea had a cross next to her name, as did that missing Princess – though there was a note next to her name saying that the Prime Minister of her country did not go missing despite attending the same party.
"And 'oo was the Host o' these parties?" he demanded with a frown.
Harry sighed, "Richmond Valentine."
000
It was the type of thing you'd read about in a spy novel, or watch in a movie. It just wasn't the kind of shit that happened in real life, and as much as Eggsy didn't want to believe it... Harry was good at what he did, very good, and putting together that information... Eggsy could turn his nose up at it as much as he wanted, but the evidence lead to the conclusion.
People were missing after a Party that Richmond Valentine cancelled. People went missing and reappeared suddenly calling Valentine a friend. Meetings between world leaders and the head of the Corporation and almost to a T they either went missing soon after, or on Death Day. Valentine spends billions pushing forward his free internet SIM cards for seemingly no reason other than charity, one of the kidnap-and-returners gets killed in his classroom at a university and Valentine brings the release date closer by months. He books a flight for Kentucky, and ten hours before Death Day, South Glade Mission Church goes postal Death Day style with CCTV footage showing an unknown man fleeing the scene with head trauma, and going in the opposite direction was a car owned by Valentine with his personal assistant and girlfriend, plus two armed guards. Immediately afterwards, Valentine drops off the map. Slowly followed by all of the individuals on Harry's list that weren't already MIA.
Then Death Day kicks off.
Too suspicious.
Then there's the fact that highly concentrated magical locations were unaffected by the rage, along with places where people didn't have much technology – slums, third world countries, tribal communities, old folks homes, retirement cities where everything was mostly landlines, places where satellite signal was abominably awful...
When it was all laid out, there was no other explanation. But it was the kind of hokey James Bond, Batman vs the Joker style of incomprehensible moustache twirling villainy that made no sense.
It was brilliant, no doubt about it. Very well thought out and executed, genius if sickeningly evil. But... why? Eggsy almost wanted to call it too neat, but he had seen the amount of information Harry had been wading through, how carefully he picked through his info, the amount of it that he recorded and then discarded, how he analysed and studied every kb of data. If it looked too neat, it was because Harry had removed the shit that didn't matter in the grand scope of Death Day.
"How do we go about proving it though?" Eggsy asked quietly, still reeling from the implications as he played with his now useless phone – he had taken the V-SIM out and set it on fire. His phone was now just a paperweight, he would have to dig out his old SIM card from his pencil case. Thankfully he had his pictures saved on the SD card.
Harry rubbed his eyes and flopped back onto the mattress that they'd dragged into the room. After leaving St James due to the flooding, they'd moved into the office block opposite Trafalgar at the insistence of the others. Harry hadn't objected seeing as the number of people relying on the offices had dropped now, they were still close by but people had been moving back into their houses and homes, or otherwise finding new places to live. Eggsy had moved most of his things into the office, and Harry had scavenged for anything he needed. He still hadn't mustered up the will to return to his own home, and Eggsy needed to only know that no one was able to get into the house due to the security charms to know why he didn't want to go back. His son's body would still be there.
It was a large glass room that they'd pinned sheets of paper to the windows in order to make private from the rest of the office that other people had claimed. The desk was shoved against the window into a corner and Harry often made use of it for his laptop. One of the paper-covered glass walls was now littered with all of the evidence about Valentine and Death Day, timelines, twitter quotes, strings and notes linking each event in a confusing tangle to anyone that hadn't been listening when Harry detailed his findings. Eggsy's belongings were here, there, and everywhere. The floor had two mattresses shoved together with very different sets of bedding – Eggsy's had thin summer blankets and a single pillow while Harry's was swimming in blankets. Unlike Eggsy, Harry had a lower body temperature and actually felt the cold a lot more keenly for whatever reason, something that the chav secretly revelled in because when it got cold enough Harry was a snuggle monster. Eight out of ten times, Eggsy would wake up with a lump of blankets either on top of him, or burrowed under his arm – if Harry didn't wake up first which was more often than not.
"That's not so much of a concern right now as making sure it doesn't happen again," Harry stated grimly, glaring up at the ceiling.
"Again? You think they'll pull this shit again?" Eggsy gaped.
"Until we know why they did it in the first place, we can't rule it out. There's also the fact that they can apparently localise it to a specific area at a time of their choosing. The South Glade Mission Church massacre was confined to the church and a single house directly behind it. Either way, we should assume they already know we're investigating. And that they've already made steps to counter us," the wizard explained tiredly, draping an arm over his eyes. "You'll probably want to steer clear of me for a while, at least until I get this resolved. I imagine it's going to get rather dangerous around here once Valentine gets some people on the ground."
Eggsy scoffed angrily, stung that the wizard thought he would just up and ditch just because the going got a little tough. He threw himself down over both mattresses, making Harry bounce a little on his own with a grunt of surprise before Eggsy headbutted his stomach a little, "Fuck that, bruv. Me an' you is in this together, like. You're not gettin' rid o' me now," he declared forcefully as he shifted and used the wizard's stomach as a pillow.
Harry shifted but didn't move away, "Eggsy, they'll probably try to kill me, and anyone else who they think has seen that information," he pointed out quietly.
Eggsy thumped his head back against his stomach, making him grunt in discomfort, "Way I see it, they already 'ave tried to kill us. An' if they're comin' here in person, it's just gunna even the playin' field like."
Harry was quiet, seeming to chew over the chav's words before he sighed, and dropped a hand onto Eggsy's head. "There's nothing I can say that will change your mind, is there?" he asked, sounding resigned, and a little relieved, but also worried as well.
"'bout leavin' you? Hell no, bruv. Told ya. We is in this together," he proclaimed, reaching up to grab Harry's hand and give it a squeeze. His fingers were cold as always, work roughened, small, and dry. Harry sighed somewhere above Eggsy's head and he twisted his hand, knotting their fingers together and making something in the pit of the younger man's stomach twist hopefully.
"Don't say I didn't warn you, Eggsy."
000
Harry figured they would have three days, maximum, before they were tracked down. In that time they needed to pack up, find somewhere safe to hide and ward, and begin their hunt for Valentine and whatever other individuals were working for him. Not too difficult with magic to aid them, he had already managed to pack up most of their things within two hours of reaching their conclusion.
Harry sighed as he scrubbed his hair in the hot water basin. They had information, they had some manner of answers but not all of them, and what they did have only raised more questions, some of which more worrisome than others. He groped for a towel and stood straight, rubbing the excess water out of his hair. He'd taken the chance to wash while Eggsy was off gathering some dry-store food and telling Hermione and Kingsley what they were doing. It wasn't often he got an uninterrupted moment to himself, and no matter how long he'd spent in Hogwarts with the other Gryffindor boys, or the years as an Auror sharing locker and shower rooms, he still wasn't comfortable bathing or being naked in front of others. It was silly, pointless self-consciousness over how scrawny and scarred and pale he was by comparison to the likes of Ron, and Kingsley, and Dean, and the other men he went through Auror training with who came out with the kind of physique that had women drooling over them.
He heard the door open behind him, "That was quick," he commented, furiously towelling his hair, the sooner he finished the sooner he could throw a shirt on. "I half expected Hermione to give you the third – degree..." he trailed off as he pulled the towel from his head and saw the complete stranger stood in his room.
He was mid-possibly late-fifties, 6'3" in height with impeccable posture and a severe baring. He wore a charcoal pin-stripe suit that must have cost a stupid amount of money given how it was tailored to fit, combed back black and grey hair, a set of smart black glasses on the bridge of a slightly crooked nose, brown eyes, and a gun equipped with a suppressor pointed directly at Harry's head.
They both moved at the same time.
Harry shoved the gun away, grabbing his wrist.
The stranger's other hand came up and rammed into Harry's throat, shoving him backwards over the table, pinning him down by the neck and pressing down, hard. The bowl he had been washing in knocked over, clanging to the floor and splashing hot water down his back and across the office floor.
Fuck this guy was strong!
Harry gagged, trying to pry his hand from his neck, even as he locked his other arm's elbow to try and stop him from bending the gun down to shoot him.
His face felt hot.
He couldn't breathe. Fuck, his eyes were throbbing!
He gagged, thrashing, kicking his attacker's knees repeatedly, eyes screwed shut as he strained everything he had against him.
He could feel himself going under as his limbs grew heavier and weaker.
His eyes were streaming, his face was burning, all he could hear was his own thundering heart-beat and desperate gags for breath.
And then it was gone!
He sucked in a breath so hard that he choked on it.
"Harry? Harry, breathe!" Eggsy. Harry wheezed as he felt himself being pulled upright, Eggsy's hands fever hot on his shoulders as he was propped up against the younger man's shoulder, coughing on his own saliva and tears. "Take it slow! Tha's it – in, and out. In... and out... You alright?" he asked anxiously hands gently smoothing down his cheeks and hair, feeling strangely cold on his aching face.
He shook his head, coughing and gasping, more shaken than he was willing to admit.
Whoever it was, they'd taken him completely by surprise. He hadn't felt that helpless in a long time. He couldn't even use his magic, couldn't reach his wand, concentrate enough to go without.
Helpless.
He shuddered violently against Eggsy's chest, feeling his arms come up to wrap around him. Harry couldn't stop himself from clinging on, knotting both hands in the loose folds of his wind-chilled hoodie like Teddy when he had a nightmare.
Eggsy drew away, cupping Harry's face in both hands, "You sure 'e didn't hurt you anywhere else?" the chav asked softly, blue eyes raking down Harry's still flushed and damp face, he knew that he wasn't crying, that it was just a bodily reaction to being attacked, having his eyes water, the beginning to darken bruise around his neck, trying to ignore how he felt both cold and hot, sick and tight, all at once. How his hands were not shaking even though they felt like they should be because all of his insides were vibrating.
The wizard shook his head, "Didn't get a chance," he rasped, voice barely above a whisper. He looked scared. Eggsy bundled him up again, gritting his teeth against the familiar surge of black violence inside of himself as he looked down over Harry's head at the corpse on the ground. Harry wasn't supposed to look scared. Ever. He wanted to kill the fucking bastard again, mess him the fuck up, make him fuckin' regret ever even thinkin' of layin' a hand on Harry.
"We need to leave," Eggsy summed up darkly, fingers raking through Harry's still wet hair as the wizard leaned against him. He felt Harry nod against his shoulder but made no move to release him, not when the wizard was still clinging to him like that, not when he was still shaking like that. He buried his face in Harry's hair and held him tightly until they both calmed down.
"You got somewhere in mind?" he asked a little while later when the trembling began to wind down.
Harry drew back, looking pained, his neck had blossomed into a vivid black and purple monster of a bruise, with perfectly formed fingerprints. Eggsy felt sick with rage looking at them.
"Grimmauld Place. My old house," the wizard croaked softly.
Oh.
000
Done. No, don't take that last scene wrong, please. Harry isn't suddenly going to be some helpless chick with a dick, I swear. Nor an emotional woobie. He's just shaken by the fact that he was completely helpless in that scenario, unable to get at his wand, and unable to concentrate enough to use wandless magic.
