Disclaimer—I do not own Harry Potter, Deadpool, or any of the characters therein. Nor do I make any moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.

I like big chapters and I cannot lie! Yeah, I'm not going further than that. Next thing you know I'll have something here about anacondas and all that and I'll never get to the end of this. Enjoy the chapter! Please review.

…

Chapter Eleven

Hermione let out a contented sigh once she had her coffee in hand. Ginny looked to her longtime friend over to the man who had yet to stop talking to the twins. Her brothers found Wade to be one of the funniest individuals, as they had yet to stop laughing. Ginny went over to Hermione and sat down next to her.

"So how is it that you met this charming man?"

"I can't get into the details, but we met during my work," she answered and took a sip of her brew.

The youngest Weasley frowned. "But I thought you said he was a muggle."

"He is," she replied. "But he was involved with something I've been dealing with." Getting up, she went over to Wade. Without breaking the conversation, he sat down next to the twins and pulled Hermione into his lap.

She rested her head against his neck and set her mug down on thin air. Wade caught it, still without stopping his story and set it on the table that was five inches off from where she had tried to put the mug in the first place. He kissed her shoulder, as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep to the chattering of the man whose lap she was resting in.

Harry and Ron were off to the side, both in shock having seen what their best friend had done.

"She's sleeping in his arms?" Ron asked. "She couldn't even sleep if I were in the same room never mind in my arms." Frowning he said, "I don't think she trusted me!"

His friend didn't know what to say about that, but ended up replying, "I don't think of it as a matter of her not trusting you."

"Really?" he asked. "Then why…"

"She more than trusts him," Harry told Ron. "She loves him." He ended up putting a hand on his shoulder and said, "You're with Lav. Do you really care about arelationship that ended a while ago?"

Ron could only nodded, as he turned and went over to where his wife was dealing with feeding their children. Harry let out a sigh of relief. The dark haired wizard looked back over to where their friend was sleeping in the other man's arms. Wade had been paying keen attention to the conversation between Hermione's school friends. Ron being Ron hadn't seen as much, but Harry had. And it was very clear that if the red head had said the wrong thing, Ron wouldn't have lived to see much more of that day.

…

Hermione and Wade arrived back at the safe house, doing a quick inspection of both the wards and the booby-traps that Wade had left in their wake. He disabled them, even as Hermione went back to work on the school search she had left running when they went to visit the Weasleys. The man she whose school history she had left running had ome up with only to three different schools during his scholastic career and had for the most part had kept to where he had grown up in Nottingham. Hermione took all three schools and set it up to cross check with the other victims of the same age group and was about to get up to take a nap when the results started erupting immediately.

"My god," she breathed, as each and every one of the victims came up for the same primary school as the victim. "All of them?"

"What's up, Sweet Cheeks?" Deadpool asked, as he was pulling on his usual outfit.

"All of the victims of approximately the same age went to the same school as children," she told them.

"So whomever the killer reaper that did them in more than likely was associated with the same school, right?"

She slowly nodded to this, adding, "It would have to be a particular time period though. They would had to have been there at the same time." She did the checking and discovered that it was all during one school year in question. "They were all there during the latter part of 1989 and the beginning of 1990. Some of them moved there just prior to this time and there were a few that moved or changed schools afterwards." She looked over to him. "This is the only time period that all of them were in the same school at the same time."

"Well what now?" he asked her."

"Now we need to know who had it in for them so badly that they would want them dead," she muttered. Looking over to him, she said, "It looks like we're going on a field trip."

"Oooh! Goody! A field trip!" He leaned down and was face to face with her, "I get shotgun!"

She kissed his cloth covered cheek and said, "Of course you do."

He was silent a moment before he said, "I'm not getting shotgun, am I?"

"We're taking a portkey," she told him, getting to her feet. "There is no such thing as shotgun when doing so."

"Oh. Bummer." He sounded truly disappointed saying as much.

Smiling she told him, "We'll get ice cream once we're done."

"Excellent," he said, hugging her. "You're the bestest, Sweet Cheeks."

…

They took the portkey to the nearest magical shopping area in Nottingham and popped over to the school in question thanks to Deadpool's transporting them both. The school—Locksley Primary School—was teaming with students as they made their way over to the offices.

They stood at the desk of the deputy-headmaster a Mr. Allister Worth. The middle aged gentleman had an air of such dire seriousness as to be nearly a dense, visible shield about the man. This wasn't helped by the fact that he had the look of a clown without his makeup what with the bald dome of his head being fringed in wiry red tresses that stuck out in odd angles on his head. Hermione could only hope that Deadpool wouldn't point this out to the man.

She handed him a subpoena for the paperwork in question. He looked it over and to them and back to the paperwork once again.

"It's about the death class, isn't it?" he asked, his voice quiet as he did as much.

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione inquired.

"The fifth year class from 1989/1990," he said. "I've been an educator for going on twenty-three years now. We've lost students before. People die. It's the nature of man and all that rot. But not once in all my days have I ever…" He swallowed thickly. "How is it that an entire class of students, years and years after they have left their schooling and some no longer even in the country, die at the same approximate time?"

"Not all of them did," she murmured quietly.

He shook his head no. "A couple died while in uni—a car accident I believe. Another few died of illness, though where and when, I don't know." He stood up. "We don't have the records for that class. We only keep them for ten years. But we do have class photographs that we keep in the new computer record keeping system. The headmaster wanted us to keep the photos as a time capsule of some sort. I didn't think it was a good way to use our technology, but now that all this is going on…" He sighed heavily. "I'm glad we did."

TBC…

…

The final whistle has blown on the chapter and it is rushing into the locker room of the Internet. Thanks for reading, reviewing, and following/favoriting. You guys are awesomeness personified. Take care and I hope that you're all having a radiant day.