"I don't think it's working, Tyler," Denny said, unhelpfully pointing out the obvious. Sometimes Tyler couldn't stand the man. He turned to his old friend and scowled as blood rushed to his face.
"I'm aware of that, thank you," he bit out.
They were, of course, speaking of the situation with Henry, as they always seemed to be doing these days. The boy's fifteenth birthday had come and gone and nothing had changed. Tyler thought Denny's attempts were a flimsy half-arsed effort. The teenager still went out too much, and was sloshed almost every night. Something had to be done about the boy's recklessness.
Mixing magic and drunkenness turned out to be a disaster. Henry's magical…thing…reacted randomly when the boy was intoxicated, which was bad for staying out of trouble and bad for business. The boy would be a liability if he kept it up.
Sure, Henry had been a wonderful asset at first, but now it just wasn't worth it. Tyler couldn't kill the boy, though - he wouldn't dream of it. Henry just needed to snap out it, was all, and of course, Francis Gabriel needed to go. Denny was supposed to be helping with that, but a fat lot of good he'd done so far. He was shit at parenting.
Tyler needed a distraction. He couldn't just tell Henry to "think of something to do, other than drink and get into trouble". He had to have a plan.
He started to assign the boy tasks and jobs almost every night. Henry was sent to gather information, keep up with their informants, and generally do whatever it was Tyler needed that day. Only the outings didn't stop - if anything they got worse. He had tried everything he could to keep the boy busy enough to abandon the lifestyle Francis had introduced him to. He had even intended to have words with Gabriel, but the man was avoiding him like the plague. When none of these solutions proved successful, he tried going at it the traditional way.
But he hadn't considered that Henry would let himself be beaten.
He'd expected a quarrel, a fistfight that might damage their relationship forever, but at least knock some sense into the boy. He hadn't anticipated that Henry would just lay there and take it. Last time he had checked, the boy was stubborn and headstrong. He was a fighter.
Tyler wasn't sure what to do when Henry didn't react, but kept up with it anyway. He blackened two green eyes and belted the boy's back raw. But nothing. Henry did nothing.
Tyler was shaken up and remorseful by the end of it. Even more so when Denny found out.
"Of course he's going to let you paste him, you fucking idiot!" Denny had hollered at him, and Tyler did nothing to defend himself. "Do you remember where I fucking found him? Do you realize where a kid like Hen comes from? Think he's never been belted before?"
And Tyler did realize, a little late, but he did.
"Kid probably expected it. Probably thought he was overdue," Denny continued with a sardonic laugh. "Only you weren't supposed to actually fucking do it, Tyler!"
It hadn't even worked, anyway.
"And even if Henry deserved it, you don't have the right to do it, because I'm his father, and you're his boss. There's a fucking difference, Tyler."
"Oh really?" Tyler said through gritted teeth. "I've
taken the boy in Brooks, I've provided for him. He looks up to me."
"You don't get to hurt him!" Denny shouted.
"He is as good as mine," he said, ignoring the outburst. "I invested in him."
"I'm his father," his old friend repeated, loudly, clearly. "I take care of him."
"And a brilliant job you've done of it, mate."
"You won't hurt him again," Denny said angrily.
"Of course not," he responded. "I'll do what needs to be done, Brooks."
The argument ended then. They would not come to blows over it. Denny was too angry. He wanted to kill Tyler, so he wisely left the room before he gave in to the impulse.
.o00o.
There was a door in front of him. Where did it go to? His arm stretched toward the handle, his fingers twitching. From behind him, a slow drum beat started, speeding up when he tried to listen. It was the thrum of his own heart. Where did the door lead? And why was he afraid to open it? Is hand dropped.
Henry sat up in bed, gasping. He had a horrible headache. He rubbed his fingers over his forehead, hissing
when he put pressure on his scar.
"What is it?" Bo asked from beside him, his long body wrapped around Henry for his warmth. Bo's head rose up to stare into his face. "What's the matter?"
"My scar, Bo," he said vaguely, rubbing his temples.
"Your scar?" the dragon asked curiously, edging forward. "It's never hurt before!"
"Don't panic," Henry consoled him, laying back down on his bed and petting Bo between the eyes. "Waffling said he was back. Odd that this old scar would hurt though."
"That's just a rumor," Bo huffed, sliding out from under his hand.
Henry smiled at the dragon gently, and laid a hand on his scar, concealed by his best spell work. "I'll err on the side of caution."
Bo huffed. "It's strange though, I keep seeing a door," he continued. "It never opens. Or I never open it. What is he trying to tell me?"
"He's inside your head?" Bo asked. "Oh, but that can't be good."
"Calm down," Henry tapped him on the nose. "I'm working on Occlumency, I'll just have to practice more. And you know, I'm not even sure he knows that he's sending visions to me. But best not chance it - I'll work on my shields. I just wish I knew what the door meant."
"Well," Bo said smartly. "You could just ask him."
"Yes," Henry responded laughingly. "I'll just write a friendly letter to him, shall I?"
"Then don't ask him, I don't care. But don't let him into your mind anymore either," Bo said wisely. "What will you do if he attacks you through your scar?"
Henry sighed "Occlumency."
"Yours isn't very good."
"Then I'll get good," he said.
.o00o.
Ron's hands shook as he walked down the silent white hall. His brothers and his sister marched along next to him. St. Mungo's was too silent, too clean - too unlike home. His father shouldn't be here, shouldn't be hurt at all. Ron didn't know how any of this had happened.
He was panicking a bit, but his siblings seemed fine if a little shaken. He took a deep breath and tried calming down.
Ron's dad was sitting up in bed when they entered the ward. They all
hugged their father gently, all trying to be cheerful. Arthur asked how they were and assured them he would be just fine. But when Kingsley showed up they had to clear out, so Ron and his siblings were sent off to get tea.
"Always left out!" Ginny hissed at the closed door, and turned with her arms crossed to glare at her brothers. "Order business," she snapped mockingly. "Dad's hurt and they want to talk Order business!"
"Keep your voice down, Gin," Ron hushed her, and then took a step back when she glared. "They need to think we've left."
"Right you are, Ron," Fred said, dangling an Extendable Ear in front of them.
"Throw us out, will they?" George said with a grin, "I think not!"
They leaned forward as Fred slid the ear through the crack at the bottom of the door. Ron gathered close to listen to the conversation going on between his parents and Kingsley.
"…Is what I don't understand Arthur," Kingsley was saying.
"I know, I know," their father said, and he seemed tired. "I, well, it's a bit hard to explain…."
"Try," said Kingsley simply.
They heard Author sigh, and a rustling that had to be his hospital blankets as he moved to sit up. Molly simpered over him for a moment, they heard in her whispering, but Kingsley must have been standing over them with a rather pointed expression, because Arthur sighed again.
"There's a boy," he said, sounding anxious. "Molly and I would take care of him from time to time. He would visit us at Christmas."
"Chris?" mouthed Ron to his siblings, and they all frowned.
"What does this have to with Chris, Arthur?" Molly asked, sounding surprised.
Arthur paused. "He saved me, Molly."
Ron gaped, feeling Ginny, Fred, and George stiffen in shock.
"But how did he know you were there?" Molly said. "How did he know you were hurt?"
"All I can think is that he put a tracking charm on me, on all of us, probably. Bo showed up first; took the venom out," Arthur explained.
Kingsley cleared his throat. "Bo?" he asked.
"His...pet," said Molly. "Well, Chris is a Wizard, we've known for a while. He's not a threat, Kingsley, truly."
"I figured," Kingsley replied. "But Dumbledore needs to know, Arthur. He'll be curious about the boy. There's a war on, and we need to know for sure that he's on our side."
Ron thought that wasn't fair. Why did they need to know about Chris at all? "He saved my life, Kingsley," Arthur objected. "That's all you need to know."
"And he's too young to be joining the Order," Molly snapped.
"All right, all right," Kingsley's footsteps got louder. "Dumbledore might not let it go, though, fair warning."
"Yes, fine. Thank you, Kingsley."
Ron, Ginny and the twins hurriedly backed away as Kingsley made his way out. He glanced at them briefly, smiling, and then set off down the hall. As one, they flooded back into the ward.
Arthur was grinning at them, and Molly was scowling but didn't seem surprised that they had overheard.
"It was Chris, then?" Ron blurted.
"It was Chris," Arthur said gently. Ron marveled at that as he sat beside his father on the bed.
"How did he look?" Molly questioned, sitting on the other side and running a hand through her husband's hair.
"Well, very well," he said. "He's become a rather handsome young man."
"Did he really put a tracking charm on us, dad?" Ginny asked with a frown.
"I think he did," Arthur said seriously. "I'm not surprised, but I don't know why he would leave if he…." he did not finish.
"If he wanted us safe so much," Ginny said, and grabbed onto his hand. Molly sniffled, holding her daughter close and sent a irritated look at Fred and George, who had moved out of the way of their mother's clinging hands.
"Poor boy!" Molly said, "I wish he had stayed, I know the house was crowded, but - "
"That's not it, dear," Arthur said "You know, he Apparated to me."
"Into the department?" Molly was puzzled. "But the wards..."
Arthur shook his head."I think he broke through them."
The Weasley children exchanged skeptical looks. "We can't tell Dumbledore," Arthur warned them. "I think Chris is hiding. I think he knows there's a war."
"Why would he need to hide?" Ron asked.
"Muggleborns were targeted in the last war," Molly told him sadly. "So many of them died."
Arthur nodded. "If he doesn't want to be found, we shouldn't stop him."
"I agree," Molly told him. "The safer the children are, the better." She leaned down and kissed her husband on the cheek. "You look shattered, dear, we'll leave you to rest."
.o00o.
Henry was looking for a man named David Grey, a sulky, stooped fellow with ugly, beady black eyes. He found him stumbling out of his local just after midnight.
Mr Grey was working for Alexander Landon, Tyler's newest rival. They'd met briefly to discuss a property dispute and Tyler had instantly disliked him. Henry screwed on the silencer to his Smith and Wesson and walked up to Grey. One clean shot into the back of the head took care of him, and Henry took his mobile phone off him before moving quickly away from the body.
He took off his gloves and Apparated away. Francis was waiting for him outside the club, patiently rocking on his heels with his hands in his pockets.
Gesturing to the gloves, Francis said, "Finish a job?"
"Yeah, real simple one. Poor bastard," Henry said, clicking through Grey's phone.
Fran nodded. "What'd he do?"
Henry frowned pensively. "Landon got a sample from someone, guy who worked for him has some interesting contacts in his mobile," he said, flashing the screen at Francis.
Interesting contacts was putting it lightly, Henry thought. Whether Horst had been telling the truth or not was irrelevant, because Augustus Zabini wasn't working alone - he was working with Landon.
Francis smiled at him and drew him closer by the waist, forcing Henry to look up. "You ready then? Mary is here with her friends."
Henry scowled, but let Francis hold him. "As much as I'd love to listen to their stupid shit all night, I've got somewhere to be."
"You're not staying?" Francis asked, drawing away from him.
"I've got plans already, Fran," Henry said irritably.
"You had plans with me, or so I thought," he retorted hotly, moving away. "Is this about Tyler?"
Henry's jaw clenched. "No," he snapped. "It's not."
"Because this is getting fucking ridiculous. He keeps you busy so you'll stay away from me, you know. Is he going to beat you again if you stay with me tonight?"
"That was only once."
"Yeah, sure. That's what they all say."
"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Henry asked heatedly, trying not to shout.
"He's fucking losing it, Hen. You know he is. He's pissed all the time, he fucking controls everything you do - "
"You're so dramatic," Henry scoffed.
When he started to turn away Francis grabbed both his shoulders. "No, listen. Listen. He looks at you wrong."
"I can't believe this - "
"He looks at you like he's sick, alright? He doesn't like that I've got you, and - "
"You've got me?" Henry repeated. "You've got me?" He stepped forward and glared. "No one's got me Francis, is that what you fucking think? What? That you own me?"
"Well, we're together. You and me -" Francis said. "Unless you're shagging that crazy old fuck. Are you?"
Henry wrenched himself away. "No!" he denied.
"Then yeah, I've got you, haven't I?" he reached out for Henry again and tightened his hold when Henry tried to pull away. "Jesus Henry, it's like you don't even care - "
"You can fuck off,"" Henry snapped. "I don't belong to anyone,"
Francis rolled his eyes and kissed him.
"I know you don't," he whispered into Henry's mouth, and finally let go of his arm. "But you've got me too, you know."
.oOOo.
Arthur hadn't been sleeping, so he heard when someone entered the ward. Chris looked a bit ruffled and annoyed, but when he noticed that Arthur was awake he dropped his disgruntled expression sat down on the side of the man's bed.
"How are you?" he asked quietly.
Arthur smiled at him. "Alive," he replied. "Thanks to you," he patted Chris's hand.
Chris shifted a bit but returned his smile. "When will they release you?" he asked.
Arthur didn't know why that would matter, given Chris wouldn't go back to the Burrow even if Arthur begged. "In a few days, or so they tell me," he dipped his head wearily and said, "Thank you for saving my life."
Chris blushed. "You don't need to thank me, Mr. Weasley."
Arthur shifted, and looked at him closely. He reached out a hand to brush away the boy's long fluffy bangs.
"Your real name," Arthur said softly. "It's Harry, isn't it?"
Chris bit his lip and said, simply, "Yes."
"You look like your father," Mr. Weasley commented idly, dropping his hand. "Except for the eyes."
"Is that how you knew?" Chris asked.
Arthur nodded. "You look like a Potter, now that I really think about it. Your magic too - it's very strong, and you ran away, everyone knows that. They think you're dead, Harry."
The boy sighed. "I haven't wanted to be Harry in a long time."
Arthur patted him on the shoulder. "I don't blame you, and I owe you my life."
"Just stay away from giant snakes from now on, and we'll call it even," Chris teased with a short grin.
"You won't stay? This is your world, you know. There's good things about magic, if you look for them," Arthur said.
"I'm not cut out for it," Chris told him, and got up. He abruptly leaned down and gave Arthur a loose, awkward hug. It felt like he didn't do it often. His arms came up to hold Chris there. "I'm sorry."
Arthur sighed. "Be safe, wherever you're going, alright?"
Chris pulled back with a strained smile. "I will."
.oOOo.
Henry hadn't been to Gringotts in awhile. Not since he'd brought Bo back. Last time he was here it was crowded, so he was shocked when he entered Diagon to find the streets bare and most of the shops closed. Gringotts, a giant white building at the center of the alley, only had a few wizards going in an out of the place. Everywhere else looked like a ghost town.
Henry made his way toward the doors where he encountered two goblins that seemed to be having trouble staying awake, standing guard. They jolted awake and raised
their spears when he approached. Henry nodded to them and moved on - they were touchy things, goblins.
"Is Griphook here?" he asked the first teller he saw, who glared at him. Henry looked behind him to make sure he hadn't cut in line, but the place was nearly empty. Griphook came out of the swinging doors to his left and motioned for Henry to come.
"To what do I owe this pleasure, Mr. Brooks?"
Henry fidgeted a little. "I'd like to speak to you and Tenebres if that's alright," he said.
Griphook smirked at him. "Of course," he said, leading the way.
The long journey down to the vaults had never seemed quite so long before. Henry usually found it exhilarating, but today he had business to take care of.
"Ten," he greeted the dragon when they entered his den.
Bo was wrapped around his father's neck, aged in the last year to adolescence, and now just a bit smaller than a medium sized dragon. It would take ages for Bo to get to Ten's size, Henry knew, but he was proud the little drake had grown so much and was so healthy.
"Yes, Bo told me you would visit," Ten said. "I hope you're well, human drake?"
"I am, thank you," Henry said politely. "And you?"
"Exceedingly well," Ten rumbled. "Though the goblins don't have much to do but feed me now that the bank is so quiet."
Griphook stepped forward and gave Bo a pat on the snout. "We can cut
your rations if you're getting fat," he said.
Smoke blew out of Ten's nose in amusement. "Hardly."
"The alley's quiet. I thought the Dark Lord's return was only a rumor."
"Lord, well," Ten huffed, and there was a bit of fire that time. "He's not the Lord of me. Rumors spread fast, though."
"Wizards are scared," Griphook added. "Your ministry denies it all, of course, but it's not enough. We're losing business."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Henry said sincerely. "You know he's really back, right?"
At their nods and one snort from Bo, he continued, "He's been sending me visions through the scar," he explained. "I think he's doing it on purpose. He keeps sending me pictures of doors."
"Humans are crazy," Tenebres said.
"Yeah, you got us there," Henry agreed, and then shifted nervously. "I need to ask for some help," he wen on, addressing both Ten and Griphook. "Though you're not indebted to me...It would be a favor."
His silence afterward seemed to frustrate Ten, who let out a gust of smoke and snapped, "Well? What is it?"
"I need for you to take care of Bo, Ten."
Bo immediately protested, but his father shushed him and leaned forward curiously.
"I'm sorry, Bo," Henry said. "I might have to go away unexpectedly, and I don't want you to get hurt."
"But I'm a dragon!" Bo shouted.
Henry moved forward and pulled Bo's head down so he could stroke his nose. "Bo," he said softly. "It's not just that. Tyler's got problems. There's a war starting," he sighed. "And...I may need to run."
"You intend to leave England?" Griphook asked gruffly, but didn't seem surprised.
"I do," he let Bo sulk and turned to the goblin. "Not just yet, but soon. I can't defeat the Dark Lord. He'll kill me. I need time."
"You're smart to think you are outmatched, but," Griphook paused, looking very curious. "Why does it have to be you?"
Henry lifted his chin. "Why not me?"
"I will protect Bo while you're away," Ten suddenly agreed.
"But…!"
"Bo," both Henry and Tenebres said warningly, and the dragon backed down but not without one last glare.
"I'd like to ask you for another favor," Henry started. "The Dark Lord might approach your kind. He'll want to use you."
"Hmm," Ten nodded. "We're aware of this man. He treated us with disrespect in the last war he waged. False promises and conceit. We shall not ally with him once more."
"I am glad to hear that," Henry said with a relieved sigh. "He might be persistent though."
"I can take care of one little wizard!" Ten objected.
"He'll try to trick you," he warned.
"Do you think what he says is true, Griphook?" he asked. "This human warns me of other humans, warns of their deception." He looked down at Henry carefully, "who to trust?."
Griphook merely grunted, which seemed answer enough for Ten. He seemed to have decided for himself. "What is your favor then?" Ten asked.
"I'd like to put a ward around Gringotts..." he explained his plan very quickly, and waited for their reaction.
For the first time since Henry had met Griphook, the goblin looked absolutely flummoxed. "You want to protect us from outside intrusion?" he asked, gaping.
"The banks can't fail," Henry told them. "The race of goblins can't be destroyed. You are by far the only species, besides dragons, that I have met with a wit of sense. I trust your defenses, but this building is warded by the Ministry, right?"
"It is," Griphook inclined his head.
Henry shook his head. "I don't trust them. If they find themselves under siege, they'll protect their money, sure. But not much else."
Griphook remained quiet for a long while, until finally, he clanked his teeth together and said, "When can you make this ward?"
"As soon possible," Henry responded quickly. "Today, even."
"Excuse me," Griphook bowed. "I must consult my fellows. I shall return soon."
As the goblin left, Ten said, "If you do as you say," and the dragon chuckled. "You will have bought their loyalty."
"It's a matter of necessity, mostly," Henry said, and then smiled. "And also it might be a little about loyalty."
"Ah," the dragon made a sound like the engine of a car. "Humans and deception. I see now. But let me ask: what have you been feeding Bo, hmm? He's got pudgy."
"Oi!"
Henry laughed. "Cows. Some lamb. He's always hungry."
"Hmm. He's healthy though," Ten continued, hitting his son gently with a wing. "If spoiled. You did well with him. Should you ever need my help, human drake, you've only got to ask," he said.
He blinked. "I, uh...thank you," he cleared his throat. "Same to you as well."
"Well, whatever it is you plan on doing," Ten said, looking knowing. "I think you'll need a lot of help."
Henry narrowed his eyes. But he was smiling. "What makes you think I'm planning anything?"
Ten only snorted. Griphook came came back with two other goblins. One that looked very old and very grumpy, and the other that looked only little bit older than Griphook. He was scowling too.
"We have granted you this request, Wizard," said the old one, his voice the croaky and soft. "On the condition that the casting is overseen by elder Merrymoat."
Henry inclined his head to the other goblin. "Of course, sir."
He followed them to the very core of the bank, and began.
.o00o.
Denny held out his glass as Henry poured, and brought it to his lips. He downed the whiskey quickly and then motioned for another.
"Do want to get pissed, then?" Henry said, laughing.
"I need to get pissed," he corrected, burping. "Don't be a piker, a bit more, thank you."
Henry poured dutifully. "If you're going to start in on it again..." he warned, not wanting to argue for the thousandth time.
Denny's voice was rather scratchy when he spoke next. "Yeah well," he grumbled. "Until you see sense, I'm going to keep bringing it up."
He lit a cigarette and sat down on the settee facing Denny. The look on his face said it all: he was tired of this conversation.
"I wouldn't have to keep going on about it if you weren't such a stubborn little fucker," Denny said before swallowing down another shot.
"Lovely," said Henry, crossing his legs. He sighed and took a drag, saying, "we need to wait, just a bit longer."
"What for?" the man scoffed. "Tyler's done for. He's gone completely mental. He's going to kill that bloke of yours and then he's going to kill us," Denny raised his glass and toasted him mockingly.
Henry looked away from him, and then took a breath and said, "he knows if he kills Francis I'll kill him."
"An eye for an eye with you, yeah. Makes sense. To a sane person."
"He goes after you, I go after him," Henry snapped, and snapped the ash off of his smoke. "He's not going to do shit."
But in the last two months, Henry had grown more and more unsure of what Tyler was going to do. Their boss barely talked to either of them, except to send them on jobs. He haunted the manor, drinking heavily. His lost his temper at the drop of a hat. It was alarming. Henry had known Tyler since he was a kid, and while he'd never been a nice guy -
Henry would never have called him crazy.
They needed to get out. That was true. But Henry wanted to wait as long as possible before leaving England. The farther away he was from home, the less information that reached him. He'd be cut off once he left the country and went into hiding.
"He's going to kill Gabriel."
"Francis isn't an issue anymore," Henry said through clenched teeth. Francis wasn't around much since their quarrel. When he was, Francis was less than affectionate than he once had been and often times outright withdrawn.
"But you're still fucking him."
"Yeah," he admitted with a sigh.
"We should leave."
"Listen," Henry snapped, rubbing his cigarette out fiercely. "Do you know what happens when we leave? We'll have to hide, Denny. We won't be able to talk to anyone from home. I won't be able to keep track of what going on in the wizarding world. We'll be flying blind."
"Better than this. Just waiting around. I know when shit hits the fan, and it has. Tyler is done. You want to be done too?" Denny shook his head. "Is it that you think you can fix it? Henry - it's over."
He swallowed. "What did we do wrong?"
"Us? That's all on Tyler, kid. Sometimes people just don't work right anymore. If they ever did work right. It's not your fault," Denny told him, swaying a bit from the drink. "It's mine for taking you in, probably, you deserve better."
"Come on," Henry rolled his eyes. "You save me."
"I shouldn't have," said Denny a bit drunkenly. "I brought you into this life."
Henry watched him. Denny put his head in his hands.
"I like this life," he snapped. "You knew I would, and you knew I would be good at it. You shouldn't feel guilty for anything."
"But I do," Denny said with hollow laugh, and raised his head. "I do regret it."
Henry refilled his father's glass and watched it go down. He poured one for himself and lit another cigarette.
"We should leave, Henry. I wish you'd let us leave."
Henry inhaled and held his breath, turning away from Denny's bloodshot eyes. It was around midnight, and neither of them were tired. He released the air in his lungs, feeling drained.
"Not yet."