Part 11 - Gray Area

"OW!" I coughed hoarsely, glaring over my shoulder at Tonks, "Watch it! I'm not a damn scratch-n-sniff!"

She was a brunette again that morning, and pissed enough to be sporting blazing red vampire eyes. The metamorphamagus scowled at me before roughly turning my head around and shoving it back into the bowl I'd been slumped over for the past twenty minutes. "Shut your fucking mouth," The irate woman ordered, resuming her task of picking and scraping debris out of the large burn across the top of my back, "Just keep breathing in that steam and being bloody thankful you didn't get more roasted than you did! When your dad hears about this he's gonna go spare! What were you thinking running into a burning building?"

With a growl, I sat up out of the foul smelling potion used to treat severe smoke inhalation, and rasped, "I was thinking that there was a little boy in that house who was going to get burned alive if I didn't save him! Maybe if you people didn't let the Three Stooges out unsupervised-"

"HEY!" Hermione cut me off, stomping her way over with her hands on her hips, "You can't call us that! We didn't do anything wrong! We didn't know he was in there!"

"Shut you excuse-hole, Curly!" I ordered in reply, standing up and thumping her sharply on the nose. It wasn't too hard, but hard enough to make her eyes water as her hands flew up to shield her face from more abuse.

"You can't reason your way out of this one!" I yelled, my voice still gravely and barely useable from having breathed in so much smoke, not to mention having gotten strangled by that Death Eater. "You, Larry, and Moe fucked up beyond all comprehension!" I raged, mostly undeterred by the fact that I could hardly speak, "I didn't even think it was possible for anyone to be that stupid! You cannot argue ignorance when it was your responsibility to find these things out! You should've known before going in what you were dealing with and covered all your bases! You should've been prepared! But, NO! Instead, you plan some half-arsed cat burglary in a country where you don't speak the language! Not only that, but you get yourselves SEEN AND FOLLOWED? I am a wanted felon and I've been walking around in town for months without drawing suspicion! Two minutes in Holland and you got the goddamn KKK wanna-bes after you! HOW THE HELL ARE YOU THAT GODDAMN STUPID?"

I had more, but that was when I started coughing again. Hermione also burst into tears and ran from the room, but I could've cared less about what the crazy bitch was going through. Being unable to breathe trumps guilt tears. Besides, maybe if she felt guilty enough, she'd do things right next time. That is what psychologists like to call negative reinforcement.

"You didn't have to make her cry!" Ron growled, jumping up from where he'd been reluctantly letting Hermione apply healing salve to the large cut on his cheek before she'd gone all psycho, "It wasn't our fault!"

"Did I... say it... was your fault... Larry?" Was my reply, uttered between desperate gasps for air, "No, I said... I said you were a bunch of... fucking idiots... who can't do... anything right!" The redhead glared at me briefly, and then stomped off after his distraught girlfriend. Good riddance to two stupid people who should never breed.

"LEILA! SIT DOWN!" Tonks ordered, steadying me as I wobbled on my feet. All that screaming and coughing had gotten me lightheaded again. Damn smoke inhalation and strangulation! Damn them both to hell!

"You're not going to get any better if you don't stop that!" She hissed, dragging me back to my backwards chair at the kitchen table and shoving me down none too gently to straddle it. After forcing my face into the noxious steam bath that was supposedly healing my lungs, the woman resumed picking at my burns with a curt command of, "Tell them how stupid they are later, when you can breathe, and aren't charbroiled."

I was far too dizzy and pained to argue, so I submitted to the treatment, groaning softly as I braced my right arm closer to my body. It was still broken and hurt like fucking hell--like most of the rest of me--but it was thankfully in a sturdy splint. Since it was the least severe of my injuries, I'd been told it would have to wait until last to be healed. Too bad it was my wand hand or else I could've just done it myself. It's not like I never had before.

I didn't remember until right that moment that I was still drenched in the Death Eater's blood. It was soaking my scorched clothing, and matting my hair, and flaking uncomfortable as it dried on my face and arms. It didn't necessarily bother me that it was blood; I was covered head-to-toe in ash and dirt, too, and just felt kind of gross and wanted a shower.

Don't expect some tear-filled I can't believe I'm a murder drama. I was a murder long before I killed that guy, and I had no regrets. He was scum. I did the world a favor.

Harry was glaring at me from the other side of the room, and after several long minutes of enduring it in patience and silence, I began to get annoyed. "What are you lookin' at, Moe?" I demanded, my voice still a rough croak.

"You killed that guy," He responded snappishly. I raised a skeptical eyebrow, challenging, "So?"

"We don't kill people if we don't have to," He gritted in reply, his green eyes narrow behind the filmy lenses of his thick black glasses, "And we certainly don't cut their heads off."

"You cut someone's head off?" Tonks gaped, clumsily yanking a large chunk of flesh out with whatever else she was removing from my burn. After a loud hiss of pain, I impatiently answered, "YES! Why the fuck not? He was a Death Eater! He was probably the one who set the fire! And, oh ya, HE WAS TRYING TO KILL ME! I was taking out a threat!"

"We... we don't do that," Tonks reported blankly, sounding absolutely horrified, "We're... the good guys."

Oh. My. God... These people obviously had a very different take on our situation than I did. "This is a war," I finally ground out, shoving Tonks off me as I got up from the table again, throwing both her and Harry looks of contempt, "There are no good guys or bad guys. It's just us, them, and whoever happens to be caught in the fucking crossfire."

My breathing was a bit better, and I couldn't take anymore human interaction for the moment. I decided I'd leave and get my injuries healed up after I calmed down. I was in danger of killing again if I didn't calm down.

I was on my way out the door, but stopped in my tracks when Tonks called, "Is that really what you think of this? Not a fight for what's right, just us and them having it out?"

With as deep a breath as I could muster, I turned back around. "Yes," I informed her plainly, feeling rather annoyed, "That's all. There's no honor in war. There's just victory and defeat, the corpses and the ones left standing. We fight to win because losing will cost us everything. With that in mind, you should be willing to do anything to win, to protect yourself, and your family, and your friends, and your way of life. Show no mercy, take no prisoners, be ten times as ruthless as your worst enemy; maim, kill, destroy, conquer, and leave the rest to the history books."

"Then there's no difference between good and evil," Harry chimed in, actually seeming a lot less angry. In fact, the young man looked like he was thinking deeply over my words.

I smiled, feeling slightly proud. Maybe there was hope for the boy yet. Bluntly, I stated, "Welcome to the gray area, mother fucker. Morals are your biggest disadvantage." I walked away then, leaving the kitchen in a stunned silence.

xxXxx

I was in so. much. pain.

It hurt to move, to breathe, to just keep my swollen eyes open. I should've gone back down and let Tonks keep fixing the damage, but I really couldn't handle anymore of her and Harry looking at me like I was a bloodthirsty psychopath just because I'm realistic about the world.

Don't get me wrong, I understood why we were fighting, why it was necessary, but I didn't think of myself as being one of the good guys. Hell, until a few months before, I had been nothing but a mercenary in my own employ, out for revenge. Now, I was fighting for my family and friends, but I still wasn't one of the good guys. I was just willing to do anything it took to protect what I loved, what I'd gained after having nothing.

Like I said, it was an us and them situation, winners and losers, and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure we were the winners. If history has taught me anything it's that you have to win to be right.

I managed to limp my way upstairs, biting back moans of agony with every step. I had yet to take a full inventory of my injuries, but I know now that I had the broken arm, the large, third-degree burn covering most of my upper back, heat blisters all over my arms and legs--shorts and a tank top probably weren't the best choice of attire for my firefighting expedition--and torn muscles all through my neck, which were making it nearly impossible to turn my head. I had bruises everywhere, the left side of my ribs and lower back (catching the blasting curse), my right shoulder (breaking down the back door), and, sadly, my ass (landing after catching the blasting curse and breaking down the back door). Not to mention the dark, hand-shaped ring of contusions circling my neck from where I'd been strangled. My throat still burned like crazy and I could barely force myself to swallow.

I'd also singed off about an inch and a half of my long, sandy blonde hair, but that wasn't such a big deal; it always did grow fast. At least I was still standing... for the moment, anyways.

"Shit," I groaned, making it just inside my ugly mauve room before having to take a knee and catch my breath. I was wheezing horribly, and remember thinking that that's what it must've felt like to be an out of shape jogger...

At the same moment, Sirius happened to be wandering by. He was a bit hungover, after having spent the night before drinking until he passed out with his hippogriff (big surprise). He smelled horribly, and was on his way for a shower.

Instead, he saw me on the floor in my room, all beat up and struggling to breathe, and instantly rushed to my aid. "Leila!" The man yelped, falling to my side, "What the hell happened to you?"

"Long story," I grunted, "Dutch girl. Mission. Fire. Three Stooges. Help, please?" Even though I know for a fact he was completely confused, Sirius did just that, carefully carrying me the last three steps to my bed before sitting me down on it.

"Why aren't you getting healed?" He demanded, sounding slightly annoyed and very... adult. Despite his graying hair, I didn't really associate Sirius with adultness. "You're in no condition to be walking around," The man continued, his voice actually scolding as he pushed long, stringy bunches of hair out of his eyes, "What happened?"

"Ask someone else," I responded, feeling my exhaustion catch up with me. I was so tired, and suddenly remembered that I hadn't gotten much sleep in the past few days. That, plus the fight and resulting injuries had really worn on me. My eyes dropping shut as I carefully lowered myself down onto my stomach, I muttered, "Just let me sleep for awhile, and then I'll go get fixed up, ok?"

Sirius made some sort of answer, but I can't remember what it was. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.

xxXxx

When Remus emerged from the basement a few hours later, haggard, tired, and aching, he was immediately met by the sight of an angry, demonic-eyed metamorph pacing angrily throughout the dingy kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. He was concerned, and, according to my sources, the conversation that followed went something like this:

"What's the matter, love?" Remus inquired sweetly, forcing a tired smile as he began making himself a cup of tea and trying to look for the new secret location of the junk food stash (Mrs. Weasley hated the stuff, so all the other inhabitants had to have a secret stash, and it was moved every few days so that she wouldn't get wise).

"Your infernal, absolutely impossible daughter, that's what's the matter!" Tonks growled back, throwing her arms up in frustration, "You are never going to believe what she did!"

Frowning, my dad bit into a chocolate bar, and, expecting to hear that I got drunk or beat someone up again, asked cautiously, "Well... what did she do?" After composing herself slightly, Tonks proceeded to relate the events of that morning, my "recklessness," and "disregard for my own life," and "warped view of good and evil." Remus' eyes just kept getting wider and wider until they looked like they would engulf the rest of his face.

"She... she... ran into a burning building?" He gaped, his hands shaking around his cup of tea before it finally just slipped and crashed to the floor. The poor man was in shock, guiltily battling with the emotions anger, fear, and... pride.

"Yes!" Tonks snapped back, oblivious as she continued with her tirade, "And she was damn lucky not to have been hurt worse than she was!"

Remus looked like he was sprouting more and more gray hairs by the second, sounding horrified as he whimpered, "She was hurt?"

Impatiently, Tonks listed, "Burns, bruises, broken arm, smoke inhalation... I was trying to treat her, but she got all pissy and ran away! I'm afraid of getting my head cut off if I go after her! SHE CUT OFF SOME GUY'S HEAD!"

"My daughter is walking around hurt, and all you're worried about is yourself?" My dad growled, bringing out his wand and cleaning up the shattered tea cup with a quick flick. He was offended and angered by his girlfriend's statement, reproaching, "Yes, she's imbalanced, but can you blame her for being that way? You- You saw what they did to Sid! You saw her body! Leila watched while they did that to her mother! Of course she's angry and vicious, but I'll let her be as angry and vicious as she wants to as long as she's alive and safe!"

Slightly stunned that he was talking to her that way, that he was so aggressive when he's nearly always so docile, Tonks almost couldn't think of a reply. And then she did, narrowing her eyes as she hissed, "So your solution is to ignore her problem then? That's nice, Remus. Way to parent." Ooo. Wrong answer.

Draco, the person who later described the scene to me, happened to be standing in the doorway. To this day, he swears on his iPod that he was sure Remus was going to attack Tonks. That is why he finally stepped fully into the room, clearing his throat to make his presence known and, hopefully, to distract my father from his obvious rage.

"Excuse me," He muttered, trying to draw the post-transformation werewolf's attention to himself, "Professor, sorry to bother you, but do you speak Dutch?"

With confusion quickly taking the place of anger, Remus turned to the blonde, shaking himself for a moment before inquiring, "What? No. Why?"

"Damn," Draco swore softly, "I didn't think so, but I was hoping... we still have those two Dutch kids here, Lisebet and Danel, and my pointing and gesturing isn't really cutting it anymore communication-wise. The girl stopped crying awhile ago and she's been yammering on about something, but I can't figure out what it is she wants."

Remus continued to look very confused, and Tonks, a hurt expression written all over her suddenly bland features, slowly slunk from the room. Breathing a sigh of relief over the fight being averted, Draco continued, "Well, I'd ask Leila to translate, since she speaks Dutch, but I don't want to wake her. She looks really exhausted. Still banged up, too. You might want to go see to her burns... and her arm as well."

My father immediately started, like he was reminded of the fact that I was in need of medical attention, and gasped, "Oh! Yes! Of course! I'll do that right away! Thank you!" He then began tearing about the kitchen as fast as his sore old body would allow, gathering all kinds of potions ingredients and throwing them into the first cauldron he came across.

"Uh, sir," Draco interrupted once more, waiting to be acknowledged by the harried werewolf before asking, "The Dutch girl? What should I do with her?"

"Oh, um..." Remus mused out loud as he finally got all his junk together and headed for the stairs, "I don't know... I guess... just bring her up to Leila's room. I'll have to wake Leila to heal her, and she can speak with the girl while I do that." Nodding, Draco responded, "Sure thing. We'll be up in a few minutes." Almost instantly, Remus shot up the stairs.

Shortly thereafter, my father entered my room to find me still face down and completely unconscious in my bed, not to mention filthy and snoring in a rather unflattering fashion. He winced upon seeing the raw, blackened burn that encompassed most of my upper back, and again upon noticing my splinted, slightly crooked right arm.

"Leila," He murmured, shaking me gently, "Leila, wake up, love." Definitely not prepared for consciousness, I groaned, coughed pitifully, and then pressed my face back into my pillow.

"Leila," He called again, already beginning to cut my black tank to up the back to fully get at my burn, wincing as he got a look at the dark bruises all over me. Higher up, some of the fabric was still fused to my skin, and the second he tried to remove it, I woke with a horrified scream.

"Shhh," He comforted, holding me down firmly with a hand at the base of my spine as I tried to get up. I was fighting wildly, nearly delirious, and had no idea what the hell was going on. "Relax," I heard Remus order, his voice soft and oddly comforting, "I'm going to fix your burn, but I have to clean it first. It's going to hurt. Can you just sit still, please?"

Starting to come around slowly, I whimpered, nodding and wiping away the few tears that managed to escape in my surprise. I felt dizzy and my chest was sore just from the strain of breathing, but I knew that Remus was going to take care of me so I pressed my face back into the pillow and gritted my teeth.

He was a lot gentler than Tonks had been, careful as possible while he methodically picked all the ash, dirt, and bits of wood out of the wound. It hurt, but not as much as I expected it to. Usually when I got injured in fights, I would have to find some random healer to fix me. With Remus it was different; he loved and cared about me, and that became blatantly obvious in just the way he treated me when I was hurt. It was good to have a dad.

The cleaning was over before I knew it, and then Remus expertly prepared a salve that felt cool when it contacted my skin. After only a few seconds of having it on, I stopped feeling any pain at all from the burn. With a wave of his wand, Remus closed up the wound, and then set to work using his legendary healing skill to completely mend my back. I was left with nothing but a pink, slightly shiny patch that would fade to normal in just a few days. Seriously, it was very good to have a dad, especially one with powers like that.

Next, he insisted I stick my face in another one of the foul-smelling potions used to treat smoke inhalation while he put yet another potion on my painful bruises. I had been sitting patiently and just breathing in the steam for only a few minutes when Draco came into the room, Lisebet and Danel following a few cautious steps behind. I smiled when I saw them, greeting hoarsely, "Hey, guys... er, hallo."

Lisebet forced a sad smile, but Danel immediately shrank away, hiding behind his older sister's legs. She scolded him softly, then looked back to me, her pale blue eyes red and puffy. The petite blond had obviously been crying.

"Ik wilde je nog bedanken voor het redden van mijn broertje," She stated, still forcing a smile, "Het was heel dapper van je om dat te doen." (I just wanted to thank you for saving my brother. You were very brave to do that.)

"Het was niets," I answered, barely able to keep my eyes open, "Het spijt me dat jij en je familie hier mee te maken moesten hebben." (It was nothing. I'm sorry you and your family were dragged into this.)

The girl nodded somberly, sniffling and taking a deep breath as Danel peered at me from behind her legs with those wide green eyes of his. He looked absolutely terrified.

After a few moments, the girl finally stated, "Bedankt... ik vroeg me afwat gaat er nu gebeuren? Ga je proberen om mijn vader te vinden?" (Thanks... I was wondering... what happens now? Will you try to find my dad?)

Not really having an answer for that, I was slightly relieved when I suddenly whimpered in pain and buried my face into my pillow. Remus was taking care of my arm, and it hurt, but it gave me a minute or two to think.

What would we do? Their mother was dead, and it was pretty much our fault. Their father was kidnapped and probably being tortured at that very second. Could we really not try to find him? Save him? If we didn't at least try, I'd never forgive myself. I had to find him. Otherwise, those two kids would be without both their parents instead of just one. Losing their mother was enough of a tragedy. I didn't want them to lose their father as well.

When I had finally breathed past the pain, I picked my head up, stating very shakily, "Ik zal mijn best doen om hem te vinden. Ik kan niet beloven dat het lukt, maar ik zal het proberen. Ik wil hem graag naar je terug brengen." (I'll try my best to find him. I can't promise that I will, but I'll try. I want to bring him back to you.)

The girl's eyes got glassy and wet, filling with tears before she bent down to hug me carefully. "Dank je," (Thank you) She murmured, her voice breaking as she began to cry into my neck. I held her tight, oblivious to the pain and Remus politely insisting I sit still so he could continue to heal me. All that mattered was that this little girl had lost her mother and she needed to grieve. More than that, she needed me to bring her father home to her.

xxXxx

"No."

Unsurprisingly, that's what my plans were met with, cold, hard, final.

"Absolutely not."

Really, I expected the reaction, but that didn't mean I was going to accept it.

Glaring at Remus, I shot back, "There's still time to save him. I have to try."

He looked tired, but very stern, the dark circles under his eyes seeming to fade when his cheeks flushed with anger. "Leila Vega Kione," My dad scolded sharply, his tone absolutely demanding, "Don't. You. Dare."

"Someone has to go," I argued, standing my ground, remembering too late that my wrist was sore as I balled both my fists at my sides. It ached, but I continued unwaveringly, "Since I seem to be the only one available who's both competent and multi-lingual, it's got to be me."

"You're not entirely healed!" Remus fired back, his shoulders shaking visibly, "You can't march into a fight like this! It's suicide! The Aurors have been alerted to the kidnapping, and they're doing everything they can-"

"No offense to the Aurors," I snapped, gritting my teeth and trying not to let on that I was already getting winded, "But I've got far more skills and resources for this mission."

"You're not doing it!" He shouted, taking me slightly by surprise. I wasn't used to him being so... loud... forceful... authoritarian... I knew it was the moon affecting him. At any other time of the month, he probably would've tried to gently talk me out of my plan, carefully wielding that big old brain of his instead of just screaming.

As he turned and stomped out of the room, I heard him call over his shoulder, "Let the Aurors handle this. It's not your job to go charging into danger."

"No!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, fully aware that I was now addressing an empty room, but not really caring. With those super werewolf senses of his, I'm sure Remus could hear me no matter how much distance he was trying to put between us as I announced passionately, "It shouldn't be my job, but it is! Running from war, hiding, pretending that the fight is someone else's problem, it isn't a solution! Head-in-the-sand mentality will just let this go on longer! If I don't fight, if we don't all fight in every way we can, then it won't ever end! I know you used to believe that, Remus, because that's why Mom left you! And you know what? She was wrong to do it!"

I suddenly stopped, hardly believing I'd just said that, but the pause didn't last long at all. A feeling of insight came over me, of release as I continued loudly, "She didn't get that the battle belongs to the whole world, not just those willing to stand up and take a side! She should have stayed and fought with you no matter how scared she was! I love her, but she was wrong, and I'm never going to run like that! NEVER! Not after seeing how this can find anyone, anywhere, anytime! Safety can only come with peace, and peace isn't going to come without a fight! If the other side is going to bring the war into the homes of innocent bystanders, then it's my job as a soldier to bring it right back at them, harder and stronger than they would've ever expected! If that man is still alive, I'll find him! Not just because it's my job, but because the world doesn't need anymore fucking orphans!"

I was seriously pissed by that time. I worked myself into a frenzy, and I could just feel the rage coursing through my veins, hot pulses that left me physically aching. I didn't like being so mad, I never have and never will, but I needed it. I needed to get angry. Anger can drive me, even when I'm exhausted and aching it can keep me going.

I had a plan, but I had to act fast. My tirade hadn't convinced Remus. Not at all. Sure, he agreed with everything I said, but I was still his daughter. He still loved me. He would still do anything to keep me from being hurt. Anything happens to include warding me back into the mansion. My gut was telling me that he was already on his way to do it. I had to hurry.

I sprinted to my room, grabbing a duffle and stuffing it full in under a minute. Knives, cash, wand, gone. I had gotten so good at that over the two years I'd been on my own. It was automatic.

With that done, I only needed one more thing: an accomplice. Normally, I wouldn't have bothered, but it was necessary. Remus was right; I wasn't fully healed. My arm and neck ached, as well as the fading bruises all over my torso, and my lungs were weak. I needed some muscle.

After quickly going over the mansion's other inhabitants, I arrived at only one possibility and arrived at his door shortly thereafter.

"Sirius!" I shouted, pounding on the thick wood, wincing, cursing, and then switching to use my non-injured arm, "Sirius! Open up!"

The door opened and I ended up pounding a fist against his bare chest, making him grunt before giving me a joking glare. "Oy," He said, rubbing at the sore spot with one hand and tugging his worn jeans a little higher up on his thin hips, "How dare you interrupt my late afternoon nap just to assault me! I should have you flogged!"

With a smirk and an eye roll, I shoved him into his room, ordering, "Later, pervo. Put a shirt on. We've got places to be."

"That's not funny," He countered, his face suddenly growing dark as he glared. I remained impassive, stating, "It wasn't meant to be. Put a shirt on. Now. I need your help."

Still obviously thinking I was screwing with him, the man spat, "You're being cruel. I can't leave. I'm a fugitive." With a heavy sigh, I rubbed away some of the throbbing headache that was beginning to collect at my temples, answering, "Ya, and so am I. There are ways of preventing you from being noticed. Come on. I know you want to get out of here. How long has it been since you've seen the real world? Several years, I'll bet."

And then he wasn't so convinced I was joking, licking his lips as a downright hungry expression crossed his face. "Now, please," I ordered, wanting to hurry so that Remus didn't have the time needed to ward me in.

"But..." He still held out, already grabbing a worn t-shirt off the floor and pulling it over his head, making his long, graying black hair pull slightly from the loose ponytail it was in, "How?"

"We, um, walk out," I answered. He rolled his eyes, countering, "I meant how are you going to keep me from being noticed?"

There must've been something in the water at Grimmauld Place making everyone inside so goddamn dumb. Seriously...

Muttering obscenities under my breath, I crossed the room in two strides, grabbing a dusty black motorcycle helmet off a shelf and then fitting it snugly over Sirius' head. I tapped it down firmly, and then snapped the dark tinted visor shut. "There," I stated happily, grabbing the stunned man by the elbow and dragging him from the room, "Problem solved. Now let's get going."

xxXxx

Just when we'd reached the sidewalk outside the house, I heard the door slam open behind us. Sirius was so busy gazing around and pacing excitedly that I don't think he even noticed, but I did. With my wand out, I turned and fired off a sticking charm before I'd even gotten a good look at whoever the person was. I was not going to let my mission be halted by anyone.

The person was Harry, and he was about three yards away, glaring at me while he tried in vain to move his thoroughly cemented feet. Rolling my eyes, I snapped, "Were you actually coming to stop me?"

"No," He answered, still sounding very peeved and uncooperative as he yanked hard on his stuck legs. Quickly growing impatient with the boy, I demanded, "Well, then what? You obviously weren't going to volunteer to come with since you didn't even bring your wand! Not that I would've let you anyways, you useless turd..."

Scowling, he abandoned his efforts to get free, announcing, "I was thinking about what you said. Earlier, about what you thought of the war. I wanted to ask you a question."

"Fire away, four-eyes," I granted, folding my arms over my chest as I waited for whatever it was he wanted to ask. Harry began, "I was just thinking-"

"That must be new to you," I cut him off snappishly, "Be sure not to strain yourself."

Scowling heatedly, he continued, "I was thinking about what you said, that you're not one of the good guys. I think you're wrong. Only someone good would risk her life like you are to save someone she doesn't even know."

A slow, wicked smile came over my face. His naivety was both amusing and depressing all at the same time. I could remember a time when I would've thought the same thing...

"You can think whatever you want," I told the young man. He was almost nineteen, and, despite all that he'd been through, had yet to witness true atrocity, experience true loss and horror. "But you have no idea what I'm capable of," I continued, seizing Sirius by the elbow and making him sit still as I prepared to apparate us away, "I'm willing to do almost anything to get what I want, and, self-sacrificing nature or not, that makes me just as, if not more dangerous and corrupted as anyone we're fighting."

We left with a deafening pop.

xxXxx

Our first stop was back in Holland, looking for leads at the place where it all started. We found nothing, just a smoldering crater and lots of cops and firefighters.

I suppose it wasn't a complete loss though. I posed as a distraught cousin, claimed the mother's body at the morgue, and made the funeral arrangements. It would take place in four days. I figured that was more than enough time to find the father, either alive or dead, and either way the kids deserved to see their mother buried.

The mother's name was Anneke de Klauw. She was 31.

The father's name was Kobus de Klauw. He was 34.

After finding no leads in Holland, our next stop was Bangkok, Thailand, where I paid a visit to a contact who had almost always managed to point me in the right direction. He was a Thai man named Aroon. He ran an underground sex club that was frequented by Death Eaters and Moros, so him and his girls were privy to some pretty useful secrets.

Sirius, who was still wearing the motorcycle helmet and bouncing around like an excited puppy who had just come out of his crate, and I entered through the back of the seedy place. After wading through a foul-smelling alley to find the right door, I gave the signal, four knocks, rattling the knob, and then three more knocks, and the thick slab of metal swung open almost instantly.

A skinny little girl was standing on the other side of the threshold, her eyes dark and hollow in her skull despite the thick orange eye shadow over them, her black hair falling loose all the way to the small of her back. She was barely wearing anything, a bright orange tube top and hot pants, and couldn't have been older than fourteen, if even that.

It turned my stomach every single time, every single goddamn time I was nodded into the dank, frigid back room and found myself wading through hoards of prepubescent girls, and even some boys, made up into garish whores. They were all thin, with huge, hollow eyes and sallow skin. You could see the pain and trauma in the faces. I wanted to save them all.

But I couldn't. Not then. They were serving a purpose. Bad people tell big secrets to their whores. I don't understand why, but that's how it is, and that's how I needed it to stay until all this was over.

Quickly, I made my way to Aroon's lushly-decorated, perfectly temperature-controlled office. He was on the phone, yelling in Thai at someone who I took to be his liquor supplier. The muscular, dark haired man waved us in, gesturing to two chairs in front of his desk as he continued to bitch at the supplier, occasionally taking the time to smooth out his brash violet suit, which I could see was made of the hide of a protected dragon species.

When he was finally through with his phone call about ten minutes later, he turned and flashed me a brilliant white smile, greeting, "Hello, Leila. It has been too long."

"Never long enough, Aroon," Was my reply, genial even though I was forcing back hot bile in my throat. I fucking hated Aroon. He was scum, ridiculously full of himself, which was why he insisted on speaking English to me. I could speak Thai, but he liked to show off, when he wasn't too busy exploiting and using those kids like they were plow animals, of course...

"Well," He went on, getting straight to the point like he always did, just like the wonderful business man he always claimed to be, "What can I do for you today?"

Remaining impassive even as my nails dug into my palms, I announced, "I need information." Just like usual, I produced an envelope filled with cash and slid it across the desk, asking, "What have you heard about the arson and kidnapping in Holland yesterday?"

"Hmmm..." Aroon mused, flipping idly through the stack of bills, "Not much. One of my girls, Sunee, she complained about a regular who came a few hours ago. She said he smelled like smoke and his clothes were singed. He was rough with her, but that's what he paid for so I wasn't about to go up in arms about it."

Like I always ended up doing when I came to that place, I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood, counting to ten and forcing down my rage over this situation before I stated, "I'll need the man's name and to talk to Sunee."

He shrugged flippantly, pressing an intercom and saying, "Sunee, my office. Now." With that done, he leaned back in his chair again, folding his muscular arms behind his head as he told me, "His name is Antonin Dolohov. He's Russian, tall, brunette... if that helps."

"It does," I told him, getting impatient to get out of there, "Thanks."

"I know Dolohov," Sirius informed me softly, leaning across to whisper in my ear. He was still wearing the motorcycle helmet, so it was difficult to make out, but I did, and then stated, "Good."

A few moments later, a shy knock preceded a slight girl slinking shyly into the room. She had her hair cut short, tied with pink ribbons into pigtails. The make up on her right eye was caked and thick, though it did little to cover the heavy purple bruise that was developing there.

"Hello," she greeted kindly, hugging her bare, skinny midsection. She had bruises there, too, one of them shaped like the heel of boot. "Hi," I answered, getting up and offering her my hand, "My name is Leila."

"Sunee," The girl said, giving me a light handshake, her eyes on her frilly white socks and ridiculously short plaid school girl skirt. I wanted to cry, but tried to remain calm, smiling and gesturing her to take my seat as I said, "I just wanted to ask you about one of your... a man who came in here. The one who hit you."

She nodded, replying in slightly broken English, "Yes. His name is Antonin. He here this morning, all smudgy and smelly like smoke. He very angry with something, very rough."

That tight clenching feeling in my gut was quickly turning into the urge to run out and hurl. She couldn't have been older than twelve...

"Did he tell you anything about a man named Kobus?" I asked plainly, "A Dutch man he kidnapped?" She shook her head. I continued, "Did he mention where he lived? Where we could find him?"

"He has home in... St. Petersburg," The girl told me, reaching into her cropped collared shirt, "But he give this to me when he finished... I like the picture." She produced a wadded up scrap of paper, carefully smoothing it out before reluctantly handing to me.

I recognized was it was in an instant. Money. A fifty Rand note, to be more precise. It was red, with a lion head on it. It was South African currency, and exchanges to a little more than seven US dollars, a little less than four pounds. I had my next lead, and I also knew that Dolohov was cheap as well as sadistic and perverted. Being inside your mark's head a bit is always useful for tracking him down.

With a soft smile, I handed the bill back to Sunee, slipping her a bit more money out of sight of Aroon and stating, "It is a nice picture. Thank you. You've been a lot of help."

"He also..." She offered, smiling slightly as she felt the extra cash in her hand, "I hear him talking on telephone, placing bet. He say put one hundred pounds on the Cats, and that he walking to watch game between shifts."

After thinking over that tidbit for a few moments, a lightning bolt of inspiration struck me. I knew exactly where Dolohov would be.

"Thank you," I told the girl, heartfelt and sincere and regretful that I couldn't do anything more to help her and the others, "Really. You've been wonderful." I had to go though. I had to bring Kobus home to his children. "Aroon," I said, laying another few bills on his desk as I motioned for Sirius to get up, "If Dolohov comes back or if you hear anything else, you know how to get in touch."

"Of course," He answered, smiling brightly, giving Sunee a proud look that I knew was only about the money she'd made him, "Good luck."

We had to walk through the cold, bare room full of half-bare kids to get out. They were all so small and young and aged, silently watching me leave but pleading for help in every minute movement.

As soon as Sirius and I stepped into the fresh air, a wave of nausea hit me so hard that I ended up bolting straight for a trash can and emptying the contents of my stomach over the next several, rather unpleasant minutes. It was the same as every other time I'd gone in there, when I let myself rely on information that could only be gathered by under-aged sex slaves. The ends justify the means, I suppose, but that never changed the fact that it felt wrong, vile to take advantage of them. I was just as bad as any one of their customers...

After I was done throwing up, standing and wiping my mouth on the wrap on my injured right wrist, I turned around to find Sirius staring at me strangely. I could tell he was staring even with the dark shade still down on his helmet, but we had a job to do. There would be plenty of time later for my guilt and moral dilemmas. Kobus was probably being tortured right at that moment.

"Let's go," I ordered, spinning on my heel and stomping towards a secure apparition point.

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In the movie version, this is where I would cue the dramatic music.

The Dutch translations have been corrected by a wonderful person named RebeccaRockChick.

I just read a study that said releasing thoughts about the things you read in the form of reviews prevents cancer. Just thought you might want to know.