"Leave me alone!" bellowed Harry.
He had been having the Department of Mysteries nightmare every night since his speech at Hogwarts. It had already been three weeks, and Harry was getting tired and frustrated. Not only because he was sleeping horribly, but because he was not even close to figuring out if this nightmare meant anything.
Tonight it had been a little different though. He was still in the circular room with the many black doors, but this time there was someone else with him. More than one person, actually. As he looked around, black-cloaked figures appeared in front of the doors. When Harry approached them, they blocked his way in. Looking around, he noticed that one of the doors was not blocked by a figure.
He let out a breath and prepared for the worse. He opened the door slowly and walked forward. Upon entering, he saw someone crying in the corner of a small box-shaped room. Her blonde hair was matted with dirt and what looked like dried blood. Her quiet sobs ripped his heart, and Harry realised this was Mary. Sighing, he stepped forward and knelt beside her.
"Little one? Are you alright?" he asked, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He saw her tense under his touch, and she flinched at the sound of his voice. Sniffing loudly, she nodded solemnly.
"Hey, little one. Look at me," he pleaded. He didn't know why he was so scared but she must have felt his concern, for she slowly turned around.
The sight in front of him shocked and almost made him take a step back. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were tearstained as if she had been crying for hours. She probably had, he figured. There was a small cut over her eyebrow, which was dripping blood slowly over the left side of her face. She was wearing a pretty yellow sundress that was ripped and torn at several spots. Her knees were scraped, bleeding slightly. The worst part, though, was her abdomen.
Starting just over the left side of her hip, a sizable gash ripped through the skin, climbing its way up to just under her right shoulder. Blood was still oozing from it, and her face was paling by the second. He felt his voice hitch as he spoke.
"Mary! What happened?" He was desperate at this point. He knew deep down that this was a dream, but he was still afraid. When she replied, it was little over a whisper.
"You said you would protect me, Harry," she whimpered. "I thought you loved me," she croaked, letting a fresh batch of tears roll from her eyes once more. Harry held her close to him, wrapping her in a tight embrace. The blood was soaking his shirt and tears were streaming from his eyes too. He couldn't seem to stop them.
He felt her shudder for a moment and held her at arm's length. Her eyes became glossed over, and it was like she was looking through him instead of at him. He frowned for a second before she spoke. But this time, her voice was not the sweet whisper that she usually had. This voice was much too deep for a twelve-year-old and had a certain drawl to it
"This, Potter is what happens when you play the hero. Those you love, an innocent little child, dead because you chose to stand and fight. There's no escape, Potter!"the voice spat. It still sounded eerily familiar, but he couldn't place it in his fear. "You know what you must do! Surrender, Potter. Surrender!"
After that ominous statement, Mary's body went limp. Harry watched in horror as her eyes became glassy and she stared lifelessly into space. Harry stared at his ward in shock, before collapsing to the floor. He was getting tired of this nightmare, but this time it had hit much too close to home. He screamed at the top of his lungs before his vision was engulfed by the now-familiar green flash of light.
As was usual, he bolted awake on his bed. Ginny was propped up on her elbow, looking at him with eyes full of concern. Running his hands through his messy hair, he sighed. He had started to scream again for the last week, and he knew he was waking his fiancée up. As she had been sensing his thought, she shook her head.
"This is not your fault, Harry," she told him. "I know you're feeling guilty for keeping me up, but you have to remember something."
"And what might that be?"
"I will always be by your side," she reminded him, showing him the beautiful ring she wore. "I agreed to spend my life with you, in good times and in bad. I love you, and your problems are our problems," she said, kissing him softly.
"Sometimes I wonder just how I got so lucky with you," he said, earning a playful slap on his shoulder. He sighed and told her about this new variation of his nightmare. "Do you think she's in danger?"
"I wouldn't think so," she said. "I just think your subconscious is really protective of her, and therefore knows how much it would hurt you to lose her. She has become such a big part of you this past year," she explained.
Harry nodded and smirked, "Getting jealous?" he teased.
Ginny laughed and kissed him again, "Not at all. I love the relationship you have with her. It's good for both of you since you can relate to her situation far better than any of us."
"I guess you're right. I don't know what it is, I just get this primal instinct to protect her, and I don't know what would happen if she got hurt because of me," he explained, looking down at his hands.
"Harry, you're the most powerful wizard I have ever met," she told him, "but even you can't protect everyone all the time."
"I know, I know," he conceded, "it just frustrates me, you know?"
"Don't worry about it, love," she told him, planting small kisses along his face and neck. Groaning, he kissed her lips.
"I won't, now," he said with a small grin.
The next day, thankfully a Sunday, Harry and Ginny had some free time to themselves. After a pleasant breakfast courtesy of Kreacher, the couple decided to visit Mrs. Weasley at the Burrow. Once on the porch, Harry opened the door and let Ginny through.
"Such a gentleman," she teased with a smirk. She spotted her mother by the hearth, knitting away at what appeared to be a jumper. "Hey, mum!"
"Oh, dear," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "I didn't know you'd be joining me today." She gave each a hug and gestured for them to sit on the couch.
"Neither did we," Harry said. "We figured it had been some time since we had lunch together, what with Ginny's and my training."
"Much too long," Mrs. Weasley said. She waved her wand and three teacups and a teapot hovered over to the coffee table. "How's work been lately, Harry? Ginny's already told me about her training, but what about you, dear?"
"Work's been great, Molly," he replied, nodding. "Not as glamorous as I thought it would be, but that's exactly what I was looking for."
Molly took a sip of tea and smiled widely at her future son-in-law. "That's amazing, dear," she said. "You don't miss teaching at Hogwarts, though? I always did think you'd make a perfect teacher."
"That's what I told him," Ginny exclaimed. "You should have seen how much the kids loved him by the end of the term."
"They didn't love me," Harry defended himself, rolling his eyes. Ginny raised her eyebrow.
"Mary talks to me too, honey," she said. "Her friends still talk about you to this day. You left a great impression on those kids."
Harry pursed his lips and looked down, his head swimming. On the one hand, he knew his fiancée was right. On the other, he could not seem to let go of the idea that his recent nightmares were more than just nightmares. Something terrible was brewing, he knew, yet he could not put his finger on it.
He saw Ginny's fingers snapping in front of him and he blinked, coming out of his trance. "You okay, Harry?" she asked him.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied, frowning. "It's just that I think, at least for now, that being an Auror is where I belong, you know?"
Molly huffed and pursed her lips. She set down the cup and approached the man, placing a gentle hand on his unruly hair. He raised his eyes to hers and saw a strange mix of compassion and pity in them, something he'd never thought possible coming from Molly Weasley.
"Poor boy, ever the hero," she said sadly. "I really hope one day you learn to let yourself be happy and let others take care of these things."
The man sighed and looked down at his hands, embarrassed. He really did wish he had any other answer than, "I just can't do that, Molly." He shook his head. "If I see a situation going south, I just can't. Sometimes I wish I could."
"I know you do, dear," his surrogate mother said, not unkindly. Fortunately for him, lunch was a rather subdued affair which only harboured small talk. While Molly and Ginny discussed more plans for the ever-approaching wedding, Harry silently picked at his Brussel sprouts, mulling Molly's words over. Maybe he did deserve to step down and let others take care of things. But then again, when had he been able to make reasonable decisions?
Three weeks later, Harry sat at Abby's cubicle, going over a missing-persons report. Over the past three months, the two of them had been pretty active in all sorts of cases. Their synergy, along with Harry's raw magical and investigative power, came in very handy. Robards was constantly praising the pair on their efficiency.
They hadn't necessarily caught any Death Eaters, unfortunately, but that was to be expected, Harry thought. They wouldn't want to expose themselves so soon after their master had died. He just hoped that that would remain so for longer, though he wasn't optimistic.
Now, Abby was briefing him on the case of one Alfonso Cuaron. He was a half-blood wizard who went into the muggle world to become a filmmaker. According to the local police, a patrol had been watching his house late at night, when a bright red light from inside caught their attention. Upon inspection, the police were baffled to find that there was no sign of forced entry or struggle of any kind. He just disappeared.
After gathering up last-minute details, Harry and Abby made their way to the Apparition point. They travelled to a secluded part of the muggle village where Mr. Cuaron was abducted. When they walked toward the correct house, they noticed a couple of policemen standing guard in front of some yellow police tape.
"Hello! We're here on behalf of Scotland Yard. We'd like permission to sweep the perimeter," greeted Harry. Abby quickly waved her wand under her coat, and the policemen's eyes went glassy and unfocused for a moment.
"Of course, right this way," the taller one said, lifting the police tape. The pair of them nodded and headed into the house. Once inside, Abby rolled her eyes at Harry.
"Scotland Yard? Really?" she asked.
Harry shrugged, "I figured it'd be a good excuse for why we're traipsing into their crime scene," he explained.
"Right. You take the ground floor, and I'll go upstairs. Let me know if you find something unusual," she commanded, before heading up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms.
Harry started in the kitchen, which was fairly small. There was a glass of milk on the counter, but other than that, nothing was out of the ordinary. He then stepped into the living room, where he saw a typical muggle living space. A small TV was sitting in a corner in front of a green couch. A library lined one of the walls, and Harry saw a couple of DVDs sprinkled in there as well. This man must have been good with Charms if he could get all this electronic stuff to work around a wizard.
They searched the house for hours, doing any number of detection spells. After four o'clock, they were ready to give up on finding any clues. It was then that he noticed the piece of parchment hanging loosely from behind a family photo on the far side of the wall. Harry wondered how the police had missed this but figured it had been charmed so only wizards could see it.
He warily grabbed the parchment and unrolled it. Before reading, he called for Abby. When she was standing behind him, reading over his shoulder, he read aloud.
"This is for our master, Potter. You will meet your maker one day, but for now, enjoy the show."
"What is that supposed to- ?" started Abby before drifting off and staring in shock over Harry's shoulder. Where the library once stood, a chair had appeared. On the chair was a man with blood-stained clothes and a big gash to his throat. While Harry fought the urge to vomit, Abby wasn't so lucky. She bent over and got sick in a trash bin nearby.
"That's... that's Alfonso, right?" said Harry. He noticed more cuts and bruises over his body and face, and he saw a small note on Alfonso's lap. Reluctantly, he approached him and took the piece of paper. He groaned out loud when he read it.
"This is the first of many."
"Well, at least we know it was Death Eaters," piped Abby after she had composed herself. "Come on, let's go to the office and report this."
Harry could only nod as they made their way back to the Ministry. They did all the necessary paperwork for the case and informed Robards of the threat they saw on Cuaron's house. Harry was feeling quite gloomy over the fact that this had been done to get to him. He was running his hands through his hair for the tenth time when Robards grabbed his arm and he looked up.
"Potter, don't beat yourself up over this. These things happen," he assured the black haired wizard.
"I know they do, but this time it happened because of a feud between those damn Death Eaters and me," he retorted. "Maybe I should just hand myself in or something," he said quietly. He sounded defeated; something Robards was not expecting.
"Look, if you think that will stop them from doing this kind of shit, you're not the man I hired," he told Harry. "You're an incredible wizard, and a great person, Harry. The only way to stop this is if you put that great mind of yours on this case and solve it like the man that Kingsley told me about," he told him, slapping his shoulder.
Harry managed a small grin and looked up at his boss, "You know, my fiancée said something very similar to me a couple of weeks ago," he said.
"She sounds like a fine young woman," said Robards, which earned a laugh from Harry.
"The best," replied Harry.
"Don't worry about it, Harry. We will get these bastards and then maybe we can have some damn peace for once," assured Robards. Harry could only nod as he made his way through the office and into the Atrium. Once in the Apparition point, he went back home and was greeted by Kreacher opening the door.
He was surprised, however, when he stepped into the living room and saw another house elf standing by the fire, smiling up at Harry.
"Winky?" he exclaimed. The small elf gave a small bow and smiled at the wizard.
"Winky is here for Harry Potter, sir. Winky would like to work for Harry Potter, sir," she said in her squeaky voice. Harry frowned and sat down on the couch.
"Why do you want to work for me, though? I thought you were at Hogwarts," he inquired.
"I was. But it is not being the same without Dobby, sir," she explained. Harry felt a pang of sadness at the thought of the free elf.
"So you'd like to work here with Kreacher?" asked Harry.
"Of course, sir. Kreacher is telling Hogwarts elves all about your greatness and kindness, sir."
Harry looked questionably at Kreacher, who just shrugged, "Kreacher is only saying the truth, Master Harry."
The wizard considered this for a moment before beckoning the elves to sit down with him. Winky almost burst into tears when she was asked to sit by a wizard, but Kreacher was used to it by now. He had been joining Harry and Ginny for dinner lately. He was fun to have around, Harry thought.
"Okay, I have a proposition for the both of you," he told them.
"Anything, sir."
"What is your wish, Master?"
"I have been thinking about this for some time, and I was going to tell you about it, Kreacher," he explained. "I would like for you to take wages."
"Excuse me, Master? House elves do not take wages, sir," croaked Kreacher.
"They do now," said Harry, "I want you to feel like you're a part of our family and not slaves. So, my proposition is this: you will take one galleon a month, which is what Dobby took at Hogwarts, and two days a month for yourselves. During those two days, you won't have to work here, and you'll be able to enjoy yourselves," explained Harry.
It was obvious that the elves were considering this with a grain of salt, though. They were very used to being slaves and the idea of taking wages and vacation time seemed foreign. After five minutes of silent consideration, Kreacher stood up.
"Kreacher would be honoured to accept Master Harry's offer, sir," he said.
"Winky as well, sir," piped Winky.
Harry clapped his hands and smiled, "Excellent," he said, taking two galleons from his pocket and handing each of them one. "Now, I would like you to make a nice dinner for me and Ginny, please," he told them. They both smiled and hurried into the kitchen. Harry could hear Kreacher croak pointers to the female elf every now and then.
As was usual, Ginny was due to arrive one hour after Harry. So to kill time and take the image of Alfonso's body from his mind, he set out to finish reading a tome on advanced Charms that he had started the day before.
At seven thirty, Harry and Ginny sat at the dinner table enjoying a romantic dinner prepared by Winky and Kreacher.
"That was a good thing you did, Harry. They really do deserve it," said Ginny, smiling at her fiancé.
"They really do," he said. "Hey, can I tell you something?"
Ginny nodded and Harry told her all about the case he had been assigned to. Even without saying it, Ginny already knew he was blaming himself, "Harry James Potter, that was absolutely not your fault."
"Didn't say it was, Gin," he told her. Ginny squinted at him and snorted.
"Yeah, you better not think that," she told him.
"Robards said almost the exact same thing," he said, grinning.
"Well, Robards sounds like a great man," said Ginny. "Let's just hope that was just a taunt on their part, though," she finished, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it.
As the days wore on, however, Harry realised she had been wrong. Over the next three weeks, there were a total of ten disappearances, all of which ended in the brutal murder of the victim. Harry and Abby were stumped, as the only piece of relevant information was that all victims were half-bloods who lived in the muggle world. This didn't give them any clues, though, as there were thousands of people who matched that description, and there was no other pattern to the attacks.
He had been keeping correspondence with Mary, though he tended to avoid mentioning the gruesome details. She had much the same to say to him as Ginny and Robards, and she made sure to stress to him that none of this was his fault. On her end, school had been going as usual, with the occasional drama among students, which, according to Mary didn't hold a candle to Harry's shenanigans in his school years.
Two weeks later, finally, it was Christmas break. Harry took the day off so that he could pick Mary up at King's Cross Station. Ginny hadn't been able to pull that off, and so Harry was alone when the train stopped at platform 9 ¾. He had been mobbed by reporters, naturally, but he had shrugged them off and stood by a group of parents waiting for the kids to step off.
Something was wrong, though. He almost sensed it...
Almost as soon as the train fully stopped, a loud bang rang through the station, and Harry's attention was pulled to the front of the platform. Bricks and dust flew in every direction, and screams tore through the previously calm atmosphere. A group of around ten cloaked figured was firing spells every which way, and chaos reigned.
Harry sought out those Aurors that were there to pick their kids up and together they made their way to the commotion. Of course, as soon as the Death Eaters spotted Harry, they trained their wands on him. The other Aurors were faster, though. Duels broke out in every direction, and Harry found himself fighting against two Death Eaters he recognized as Dolohov and Yaxley. How those two had escaped conviction after the Battle of Hogwarts was beyond him.
He knew that they were outnumbered, and he saw with horror that a big hole had been blown out of one of the train compartments. Students were slipping past them, trying to get away from the fight. Harry didn't blame them, really, but he also noticed a couple of seventh years who took it upon themselves to shield the younger students. Smiling at that, he cast a Bombarda at the ground between the Death Eaters, and Dolohov and Yaxley were blown off their feet, barely able to cushion their fall with a spell.
He heard a number of Death Eaters fire spells at the students themselves, and with a pang of horror saw a couple of people strewn around the platform floor. With a silent prayer that they were only unconscious, Harry started duelling with another cloaked figure. He didn't recognize this one, though. Through the haze, he heard a familiar drawl fire the "Sectumsempra" curse and a shriek. He hoped against hope that whoever it had hit would be treated quickly.
One of his own was blasted backwards, a soft groan escaping him as he hit the hard concrete. A silver flash went past him, barely missing his right shoulder. Rubble was strewn around the floor haphazardly, making it difficult to navigate the platform. Somehow, he found himself facing another Death Eater. His wand was trained on two small first-years who looked to be twins, their eyes glistening with tears and their voices hoarse from screaming.
"HEY!" shouted Harry, fire in his eyes. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size, huh?"
The Death Eater pointed his wand at him and yelled, "REDUCTO!"
Harry deflected in within an inch of it hitting him and shot a flurry of spells the man's way. Rictumsempra. Stupefy. Impedimenta. Expelliarmus. He thought each spell swiftly and waved his wand every which direction, hopefully confusing his enemy. Unfortunately, the other man was well-versed in defensive spells, for he deflected each with ease, though the last one almost made him lose his footing. Recovering quickly, he sent his own barrage, murder in his voice.
"Incarcerous, Confringo, Reducto," he yelled, bright lights filling Harry's vision. He deflected the first two and almost failed to protect himself against the Reducto, which knocked him four feet back. The Death Eater stood over him menacingly, a vicious snarl on his face. "CRUCIO!" he yelled.
Pain like he hadn't felt in a long time coursed through his body. He writhed as what felt like needles made their way over his arms, his stomach, his mind. White hot pain shot through his forehead, bile forming in his throat as memories of his fourth year flooded his mind. Muffled cries could be heard overhead, but his senses were numb.
Salvation came in the form of a rock thrown by one of the first-year twins. It hit the Death Eater clean on the side of his head, stunning him for a second. A second, luckily, was all Harry needed. Free from the wrenches of the Cruciatus curse, he kicked the legs from under the Death Eater and cast a Full Body-Bind curse on him. Turning to the kids, he smiled and nodded.
"Thanks," he said, getting to his feet. "Now go somewhere safe, I'll take it from here."
Frustrated that he'd let himself be outsmarted, he growled and made sure to cast a protective charm over the straggling students still piling from the train. After that, he fired a quick succession of Disarming and Stunning spells at the cloaked men. Some of them hit their mark, leaving their enemies vulnerable. Harry saw at least four Aurors on the ground, though he didn't think they were badly injured.
He had spoken too soon, though. Turning around to engage in another duel, he heard the fateful Avada Kedavra and saw the flash of green light. It was as if the world had been sunk into slow motion. In what seemed like hours, but were really just milliseconds, Harry saw McKinnon's body crumple to the ground.
With a yell, Harry Stunned the Death Eater he had been duelling and instead turned to the one that had cast the Killing Curse. Channelling all of his power into his wand, he yelled the first spell he had said out loud since the defeat of Voldemort.
"Stupefy!"
The Death Eater was blasted backwards several feet, where he crumpled to the ground with a sickening crunch. After noticing their dwindling numbers, most of the Death Eaters took out a small object from their cloaks and promptly disappeared with a pop. The only one left was the one Harry had stunned.
Harry ran to McKinnon's body and knelt down beside it. He was gone. He growled in frustration and turned to the crumpled Death Eater, where Abby was already checking for a pulse. When she caught his eye, she shook her head.
"He's dead too," she told him. Harry could only nod as another yell brought him out of his reverie. Someone was calling out his name.
He ran along the platform, where Robards was kneeling beside a small limp figure on the floor. She had long blonde hair and had a long gash on her abdomen, from the left side of her hip to just below her right arm. Harry stepped forward slowly and dropped to his knees beside Robards, a defeated look in his eyes. A small pair of round glasses lay on the ground, its frame and lenses shattered. By the time he found his voice, it was hoarse, all the fight leaving his body.
"Little one?"