Harry and the large group of Aurors escorting him landed roughly on the outskirts of an old run-down piece of property. The building standing before Harry looked as though it was boarded up ages ago, and stood as a lonely sentinel of what it used to represent. From what Harry could see, it used to be a muggle insane asylum.
Looking around at his surroundings, Harry tried to memorize the exact location that they apparated him to. The street sign said Edward Street and extended into two opposite directions with overgrown hedges lining the fence. The place looked to be in the middle of nowhere and was shrouded in old, nearly dead trees. Typical muggle horror setting. Harry thought.
The aurors held on to his wrists tightly as they pushed him forward toward the front of the door like a convict. The woman carrying his wand in the strongbox walked brusquely beside him and the rest of the aurors. For a split second, Harry thought about attacking. He thought about ducking down and causing as much physical damage as he could, grab the strong box that held his wand, and try to blend into the background. The only thing stopping him was the fact that there were at least five Aurors against him, and he was grossly unprepared without his wand.
The doors at the entrance of the asylum opened with a creak and artificial light bathed the group as they entered. The entire interior of the building was brand new, the magic of the place obviously taking effect as soon as they stepped through the threshold. Everything was white: the walls, the furniture, the lights, even the uniforms the workers wore. The difference in color was disorienting upon first entry and Harry almost missed the fact that he was being hauled off in one direction, while the woman with his wand went in the opposite.
"Hey!" Harry bellowed, alarm rushing through his body once again. "I've done what you asked, now where are you taking that?!"
The woman barely turned in his direction when she answered flatly, "Just following protocol." She turned on the spot and continued in the direction she was walking in before, wand box in hand. It appeared she had a whole stack of magically locked wand boxes.
"Hey!" Harry tried to counter, but she was already walking. Panic truly set into the pit of Harry's stomach, he began to take note of his surroundings as the others began to usher him through a separate door.
One exit behind me. Two exits to the left and one to the right. Not sure if they lead outside, but they could cause some confusion and distractions. The woman went through the left door behind the counter. The lady at the reception desk seems friendly. Might not put up a fight if I run. No proper hiding places unless I charm everything white, which I don't have my wand. Could steal receptionist lady's wand…
Harry kept going through possible escape plans when he was forced through another set of swinging doors. He was met by a team of, what looked like, Healers. They were bustling about in the room with their wands, diagnostics flying around him and hushed whispers being shared.
After a second of observing, Harry noticed that the man that had been knocked unconscious in the fight was laid out on a stretcher. The Healers were surrounding him, trying to revive him and running countercurses and diagnostics to do so. The man sat up as they passed his area.
The fact that they were helping the man didn't help lessen Harry's panic. The Aurors were now bringing Harry to a stretcher and table.
As soon as Harry stepped into his area, the Healers pulled the curtains around the man from before, effectively taking him out of Harry's view. Three different Healers came from the other man's area and greeted Harry with warm smiles, though Harry's heart continued to pound in his chest. They quietly requested that Harry's hands be moved in front of him, and Harry took his opportunity.
The second one of the aurors lifted the charm binding his hands, Harry swung his leg around quickly, effectively tripping the other Auror holding onto him. The Healers stepped back, obviously not expecting retaliation, when Harry managed to disorient the next Auror by punching him solidly across the face. The others in the room seemed to catch on to what was happening because suddenly, Harry was surrounded by at least four more Aurors and a few more Healers.
Harry could see one of the Healers quickly send a memo; one that looked oddly reminiscent of the paper airplanes they used at the British Ministry. But the second it took Harry to register what was happening, was the second they managed to bind his arms to the side of his body, and his legs together to render him immobile.
"Get me the fuck out of here!" Harry snarled at the nearest Healer. "Why the fuck would you bring me here against my will, god damnit?!" Harry couldn't remember ever swearing quite like that before, knowing he tried to pick up Wizarding language as best he could after leaving the Dursley's, the strictly muggle language and words being a harsh reminder that his only immediate family didn't want him, but the vulgar language was satisfying on his lips, seeing as his words were the only thing he had at the moment.
His language was met with some success, because it appeared one of his assigned Healers was new; and looked to be on the verge of tears. "Please, sir. This will only take a moment." She said in a small voice, the wand in her hand shaking slightly.
"And what, pray tell, do you plan on doing to me?" Harry sneered through his teeth.
An older Healer stepped forward and took control of the clipboard that was floating beside the teary-eyed Healer. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down. We are here for your protection and—"
"Protection?" Harry scoffed. "Protection?! You think this is protection by whisking me away to some God forsaken place? What the fuck kind of protection do you call that?"
The Healer was quickly losing patience. They obviously hadn't had to deal with very many unruly patients thus far, and Harry could tell the way she clenched her jaw that she usually garnered more respect than he was showing her at that moment. "The longer you resist, the longer this will take." She said, crossing her arms. "We are under strict orders from the minister himself that we are to perform diagnostic spells on the individuals who have been attacked to take off any residual effects of curses or jinxes that occurred during your aforementioned attack."
"I don't want your help." Harry gritted through his teeth.
"You don't have a choice in the matter and neither do I. I suggest you just let us run our diagnostics so we can let you go to rehabilitation." The Healer withdrew her wand and pointed it at Harry's chest.
The reality of what was about to happen finally sunk in. She was going to run a diagnostic spell, which would tell her everything about him physically and mentally. Physically what his ailments were or basic things—like his hair and eye color. Also, any scars he might have, past injuries and current ones. As well as his given name. Her diagnostic would oust him as Harry Potter into the wizarding world and he didn't have his wand to fight back.
Feeling the sweat begin to pool at the nape of his neck, his heart leapt up into his throat as he began shouting in a panic-stricken frenzy. "Get the fuck away from me!" Harry managed to stand and glance around madly for an escape. "Who the FUCK do you think you are, thinking you can all just bring me in here and force me into a diagnostic spell, if that's what you're really doing!?"
The Aurors took a step back, obviously new and unsure how to handle this situation. They gave each other odd looks, some of concern, others of annoyance. The older Healer simply stared at him with contempt. "Sir,-"
"No! Don't fucking 'sir' me! I demand to be let go from these binds! Undo your fucking spells!" Harry shouted, raising his volume with every syllable, and causing quite a scene before him. People were staring at him as he tried to jump away from them, still bound by their spells. Good. Maybe someone will step in. Nothing like putting blind faith into strangers.
At this point, Harry was hopping around with his legs and arms plastered together at his sides. Some of the Healers tried to calm him down, only to be met with his ire.
Harry was getting desperate as the Healer stepped forward with her wand again and began the start of her diagnostic. "I SAID LET ME GO! GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKING WAND AND LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, YOU INBRED TROLLS!"
"That's quite enough."
The entire ward they were in went completely silent and the Aurors and Healers took several steps backward, away from Harry. Fucking finally. Harry thought as he panted through his fury.
Harry managed to swivel his body around enough to see the man who had spoken, jerking his head back to move his hair from his eyes.
The man had a harsh face and jaw line; however, his mere presence commanded the entire room. His facial expression seemed to be set into a permanent scowl, which was only accentuated by the line between his brows and full beard. His hair was longer, going well past his shoulders: however, it was half up in a pony tail, while the rest turned wavy as it rested on his shoulders. His hair and beard were a silvery white. So white, that Harry swore it was bleached if it weren't for the streaks of obvious gray throughout.
He also had a stark resemblance of someone who had served in Azkaban. Harry noticed the gaunt features of someone who endured a long, rough life, that gave him the distinct impression that he could be looking at Sirius if he had grown well passed his years.
Despite the ensuing chaos that Harry was causing, the man stepped into the room calmly and surveyed each one of them individually, before the Healer from before spoke. "Sir, I was just trying to run the diagnostic spells like you asked and—"
"I don't need any fucking diagnostic spells!" Harry interrupted. He didn't care if he was rude at this point, he just needed to get his wand and get the fuck out.
The man simply held up his hand calmly. "Could you please describe what happened?"
Against Harry's better judgement, he felt himself calm down considerably when he spoke. He didn't know what it was about him, but Harry grasped onto it hard and began his explanation in a flurry of heated words.
"I was accosted in the street by three crazy fanatics spouting nonsense about eliminating purebloods. I took them out and awaited the Aurors to take my statement, but instead they bound my hands and brought me to this God-forsaken place. Merlin forbid if I wanted to be dragged here in the first place." Harry seethed his disapproval to the Aurors who bound him.
The man nodded his head in understanding, and silently waited for him to continue.
"They took my wand and cajoled me into this room and now here we are. Still bound. Still wandless."
Harry shot a glare at the healers and Aurors surrounding him again and dared a look into the man's eyes. He noticed they were a dark brown, though one seemed a bit off. He couldn't tell from what though. All he knew is his eyes seemed to give off the feeling that they had seen enough for one lifetime.
The man tutted quietly and shook his head. Closing his eyes, he looked careworn. "Is this any way to treat our guests?" He opened his eyes and addressed the people surrounding them. "This is not how you were trained to do your jobs."
A few members of the crowd around them shook their heads in shame, though the main Healer looked incredibly frustrated and downright furious.
The man continued. "Unbind him at once. I will look into retrieving your wand."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry heard the countercharm and felt the invisible shackles and sticking charms melt away off his arms and his legs.
"Now it just so happens Penelope already gave me the wands involved in the latest attack earlier this afternoon." The man said, eyeing Harry carefully. He took out five different wand locked wand boxes from inside his robes and held them out for Harry to look.
They all appeared to be identical black wand boxes with the shimmer effects of a locking charm placed on each one.
Harry could feel himself about to blow up again when the man turned on the spot and alerted the witch who originally took his wand to come over to their spot. As the woman made her way over, Harry made sure to keep an eye on as many people as he could, not trusting anyone at the moment.
When she approached, he held out the boxes and said conversationally, "If you would please, Penelope, give me the box with this young man's wand? We will be restoring it to him immediately."
Penelope eyed him questioningly, but obliged and pointed out the longer of the boxes.
The man smiled and gave his thanks, retreating the other boxes into his robes. He lifted the locking charm from the wand box and opened it.
Harry studied the man's face closely as he gazed down into the box. His heart nearly stopped when the man became completely still, save for his eyes roaming the length of the wand in his hands.
Taking a slow, calculating breath, Harry saw the slightest change in his face, noting the crease that now valleyed between his eyebrows and the sudden fiery look in his eyes. Harry didn't like that look one bit.
Whether he recognized the wand or not, Harry couldn't tell, because in another miniscule second, he was holding the box out to Harry. "Is this your wand, son?"
Relief washed over him as he picked out the Elder Wand from the middle of the satin lined box.
Clearing his throat, Harry answered, "Yeah, this one's mine."
The man gave him a disarming smile and said, "Of course." His finger twitched slightly as he held onto the box as Harry promptly pocketed it into his robes, also double checking to make sure his newly purchased ring was still there as well.
"Thanks." Harry muttered. He chanced another look into the man's face again, feeling like they were sharing an awkwardly intimate moment when they were interrupted yet again.
"But sir!" The Healer from before spoke up, her clipboard charmed to float in the air beside her. "The diagnostic—"
"If this young man doesn't want the diagnostics performed on him, then he will not have them performed on him. Honestly, Charlotte." The man reprimanded the Healer. "We will give him a choice." He turned to Harry with a sly smile that he couldn't quite place.
Narrowing his eyes, Harry answered, "A choice?"
"Yes. Either you take the diagnostic spell and leave here in fifteen minutes if there is nothing wrong, or stay for our meeting in the back for other trauma victims."
Harry started, "I can assure you I am not a victim of trauma—"
"And I can assure you, son," The man interrupted. "That your blatant display from before with my Healers shows that there is something going on that we need to address. No need to worry, it is simply a group of people who find themselves or have found themselves in similar situations such as yourself. It is simply a group to talk about your experiences and create friendships and social connections. No one will force you to do anything." The man shot a stern gaze at Healer Charlotte and held out his hand, palm up toward Harry.
"You say you give me a choice, yet I feel you've stripped it away even further in saying so." Harry responded after a moment of staring at the man's hands.
"I understand. One hour-long session, and you will have fulfilled your duty as a citizen of the French Ministry."
"Never mind the fact that I might have places to be right now? Also, since when was this an obligated duty of French citizens?" Harry countered, knowing he was losing this argument, but felt the need to fight whatever fuckery was going on at that moment. He wanted to trust this man, but his gut was telling him otherwise.
"We are simply following orders from the Minister of Magic, sir." The man smiled and offered his hand. "Gerard Oberland, at your service."
Harry took his hand and shook it once, hesitantly. "Jake Meier."
Gerard sighed and glanced around at the people surrounding them. "Well, you heard the man. He will be taken straight to the meeting. No diagnostics." He clapped Harry on the shoulder protectively and said, "Right this way."
Cautiously, Harry eyed the people who were now backing away from him according to Gerard's orders. A few of the people bowed their head slightly in respect as they walked further into the bowels of the building, into a hallway, and into another set of double doors. The duo stayed quiet for the most part, except for Gerard, who would greet the people they passed amicably. One thing Harry noticed was that they all seemed to have a great deal of respect for Mr. Oberland, and it reminded Harry of how he was greeted on the streets at times during his old life, or of Headmaster Dumbledore.
When they entered the next room, there was a group of people already sitting in a circle. It reminded Harry of a muggle AA meeting for alcoholics. The group stopped talking briefly and looked up at the incoming pair, conjuring another chair for Harry as Gerard motioned for him to sit.
The entire group visibly seemed to relax when their eyes fell on Gerard, and Harry took this moment to look around at the people before him. There were roughly ten different people sitting in the circle, some of them looking a little worse for wear. A few were eyeing him suspiciously and others seemed far more at ease, as though they had been there many times before. There was a tray floating around the group with drinks and snacks on the surface. The man that was unconscious before was escorted into the circle by a couple of Healers and sat down roughly in his seat.
Harry made note of his exit strategies again and took his seat as Gerard started the meeting.
"Hello my friends, it is wonderful to meet you all. And welcome back to some of our seasoned veterans." Gerard began. Harry nearly scoffed at his 'seasoned veterans' comment, but stayed quiet, betraying nothing. "We have a few people that are new here today. We would like to officially welcome you two. We have Mr. Jake Meier in front of me here, and to my left, we have Samuel Rochefort."
There were quiet greetings and slight head nods from the others in the group and Harry realized that Samuel Rochefort was the other man that had sat down roughly after his diagnostics with the Healers. He looked twitchy and nervous, eyeing everyone in the room in a way that made Harry believe he would be attacked again any second. Harry couldn't blame him; they were accosted merely 20 minutes ago. However, when Samuel's eyes landed on Harry, he must have recognized him. He visibly relaxed at the sight of Harry and waved shyly from his seat. Harry inclined his head in quiet acknowledgement.
The exchange was not lost on Gerard, who observed the silent conversation with interest and continued. "Unfortunately, we hoped to not receive any new members, seeing as the nature of our group. Yet here we are." Gerard rubbed his hands together and placed a hand on the back of the chair of the woman sitting to his right. He withdrew a handkerchief and handed it to her. She glanced at him thankfully and dabbed at her eyes before clutching it in her lap.
"Would anyone like to start?" Gerard asked, opening up the dialogue. No one made a move to speak, so Gerard eyed a man sitting a few seats away from Harry. The rest of the group copied Gerard's movements, as though it was common to start with this man in particular.
Harry was startled to realize that he recognized the man sitting in the circle. Though he couldn't place from where…
This person looked dead to the world. Though he was sitting in front of everyone, his eyes held no light; no sign of happiness. Just sadness and despair. His monotone voice filled the room. "My name is Axel. My family and I were a part of the big attack from a few months ago." He paused and cleared his throat. "My wife died afterward from her injuries."
Sweet Merlin… Harry remembered.
This was the man he witnessed saying goodbye to his wife as she died in the bed at St. Mungo's. The day he realized he couldn't live without Gabrielle. Holy shit.
Axel began again. "I'm still trying to figure out how to live without her. Some days seem absolutely unbearable…"
A deafening pause. "And what about the other days?" Gerard prompted.
At his encouragement, Axel wrung his hands together. "They're getting easier, I guess."
"Good, good." Gerard said, nodding his head. "That's all we can begin to hope for. Oftentimes, we must hit rock bottom in order to rise again. Do you feel yourself rising, dear friend?"
After Axel answered, the group continued in this fashion, sharing their fears or concerns about the future and how they were coping after being attacked or after the loss of a family member. Many, like Harry was supposed to be, were there for the shared support of friends, and to make sure there was nothing seriously wrong with them. Others were actually struggling through the loss of loved ones, just like Axel.
When the hour was coming to its close, Gerard turned once more to Harry. "Would you like to say something?" He encouraged, gesturing to Harry with his hands.
Harry had managed to keep silent throughout the entirety of the meeting. While he could see it was good for some, he held no real desire to partake in any of the conversations, and just wanted to get home to Gabrielle to start planning his proposal. "No, sir." Harry said, wanting them to break the meeting up so he could finally leave.
"Right." Gerard said, eyeing him knowingly. "Please try to participate, son. Just tell us a couple things about yourself and how you ended up here, then you may leave."
Everyone in the circle looked at him expectantly. His patience wearing thin, Harry retorted, "What can I say? I was attacked on the streets and dragged here against my will and forced to sit in this circle while I patiently wait for everyone to finish so I can leave. Is that what you want?"
Gerard smiled disarmingly and seemed completely at ease, as though Harry's outburst happened several times a day. If the man was losing his patience, his facial expression did not show it as he prompted once again, "Try again, Mr. Meier."
Harry narrowed his eyes in disdain and nearly scoffed out the breath he was holding. Fine. They want me to talk?
"My name is Jake Meier, I went to Durmstrang. I moved here a few years back and was attacked today in the streets of Wizarding Paris. I hexed the men unconscious and then was accosted by the so called Aurors that brought me to this building. Enough information for you?"
In all honesty, Harry couldn't help his outburst. He had been burned too many times by Aurors and laws set by the ministry during the Second Wizarding War, despite him previously being an Auror himself. He felt he was just beginning to regain a semblance of respect to any of the existing ministries, partially helped by Pierre and Kingsley, however, that trust was quickly dissipating in light of the situation. It felt like a trap, and though Gerard brought about a sense of calmness to the group that left Harry in a state of bewilderment, he still wasn't about to trust the situation based solely on the fact that the Ministry apparently orchestrated this. And it wasn't Pierre's doing.
The other occupants of the circle glanced around to each other uncomfortably and Gerard rubbed his hands together once again. "That will do." Gerard gave him another disarming grin and dismissed the group, pointing to the exits and other facilities the building had to offer, mainly for the benefit of the new arrivals. Harry wasn't paying attention to the man's directions and stood immediately, preparing himself to leave as soon as it was over.
When he hastily turned around however, Gerard was standing in his way, though how he did it, Harry wasn't sure, because he seemed to appear out of thin air with no POP of apparation. The man smirked at Harry's startled reaction, and began a conversation with him as if they were simply continuing a very interesting conversation. "So, you went to Durmstrang?"
Unnerved, Harry felt his brows furrow at the sudden question set upon him. As though immediately sensing Harry's discomfort, Gerard took a step back from him in apology. "Sorry, you must forgive an old man for his curiosities."
The comment took Harry off guard yet again, as it reminded him completely of Albus Dumbledore, though he lacked the signature twinkle in his eyes. No. While this comment was highly reminiscent of the deceased wizard, it managed to ease Harry's jumbled mind and simultaneously set him entirely on edge, though the remark was seemingly harmless.
Raking his hands through his hair, Harry replied, "I…yeah. I went to Durmstrang." Pursing his lips, Harry glanced around for the exit and said, "I haven't been for a while."
"Ah, yes." Gerard said, studying him. Harry saw his eyes narrow briefly as he scrutinized him before he continued. "I have quite the affinity with Durmstrang myself." Harry caught Gerard take a flicker of a glance to the inner pocket of his robes, where the Elder wand sat.
They stood in silence for the briefest of seconds before Gerard continued. "Listen son, I understand how you may feel nervous about being here. I just want you to know that I understand and that I hope to see you again in the future."
Scoffing at the daftness of Gerard's comment, Harry began, "Sir, no offense, but—"
He paused.
Directly behind Gerard walking through the door was Victor Krum.
Gerard's question immediately flew from Harry's mind as he caught sight of the dark-haired wizard and his heart began to race in his chest again. Only when the man before him cleared his throat that Harry realized he hadn't answered his question and was gaping slightly at the sight, did he shake his head and return his attention to Gerard. Why the bloody hell is Krum here?
"I don't…" He was going to tell him that he had no intention of ever coming back here as long as he could, but despite his better judgement, Victor being here sent him spiraling into the depths of his curiosity. Therefore, he quickly amended his statement. "I don't appreciate being dragged here against my will. I had the situation under control and they also attacked me when my guard was down."
Harry's voice was harsh. He had pulled himself up to give the impression that he was better than everyone in the room; something he learned when speaking with reporters. He knew it was intimidating, and his tone brooked no argument, though Gerard showed no sign of being unsettled. "Furthermore, your aurors basically arrested me, magically bound me, and took my wand, all in the name of the minister. I don't trust anyone who forces me into anything. Let alone, the apparently traumatized people you claim to be helping."
Harry finished his rant and quickly glanced behind Gerard again. Victor was speaking with a few of the other people that were milling about the room. When he returned his attention back to the conversation, Gerard seemed to be contemplating something.
After a moment, the man began "I apologize about this situation, son. The tensions are very high, with all the back-end conversation the minister is telling us. We are following his orders to a tee, and in light of the situation, I am making an exception for you. I'm truly sorry with the way at which you were handled Mr... I'm sorry again, I didn't catch your name before."
Harry narrowed his eyes. I swear he called me by my name a few minutes ago. "Meier." Harry ground out.
"Ah yes, Jake Meier." Gerard said genially. "You must forgive me in my old age."
Hmmm. Harry took note as Victor began walking toward them again.
"As it is, Mr. Meier, I believe you are just the person we need within our ranks."
As Gerard finished speaking, Victor appeared behind him and verbally announced his presence.
"How are you today, Mr. Oberland?" Victor asked in his thick accent, laying a hand on Gerard's shoulder for a short moment before dropping it. His accent was undoubtedly better than it had been, but you could still tell he was foreign.
Harry avoided making eye contact with the Seeker, hoping against hope that he wouldn't notice the shimmering of his glamours, despite them being almost non-existent now from the sheer number of times he cast them.
"Ah, hello Victor! I am doing quite well. How are you, dear friend?" Gerard greeted jovially.
Victor glanced at Harry again before replying. "Same as usual. Still trying to keep up vith quidditch. It's a good problem to have."
"A very good problem indeed." Said Gerard, smiling over at the man, his eyes crinkling with amusement. Suddenly, his eyes grew wide, as if he remembered something important. "Say Victor, Mr. Jake Meier here says he went to Durmstrang. You look to be about the same age. Perhaps you know each other?"
Fuck. Harry thought. He's going to say he doesn't remember me being there and completely blow my cover.
Victor eyed Harry, brows furrowed in concentration and confusion. "I don't—"
"Yes, we did go to school together." Harry interrupted. It was a risk, but he was hoping against hope and praying to whatever higher power there was that Victor would go along with it. "You probably don't remember me because I was at least three to four years younger than you." Harry held his breath as the look of confusion didn't leave his face.
When Gerard turned his head toward Victor, Harry gave him a desperate look, widening his eyes slightly for emphasis and trying to silently plead with him to go with the story.
"I—Yes, I remember you now." Victor said. Harry almost sighed aloud in relief at the man's words.
"Brilliant!" Gerard replied and turned back to Harry. "Jake, Victor here has been making great strides in our department. You should really speak with him about what it is we do here. I know he will have some fantastic insight for you. He's fairly new here himself, so I don't think it would hurt for you two to become more acquainted."
At this, he turned back to Victor. "I was just telling Jake here that we could use someone like him within our ranks."
Both men turned to stare at Harry, to which Harry looked at them both, focusing on one for a second before focusing on the next. When he caught Victor's eye however, he could tell that the man was contemplating what Harry said; not to mention the very obvious facial hint Harry gave him to keep his cover.
"I hope you would think about it, Jake." Gerard said. "Victor here can tell you a bit about what it is he does."
Harry pursed his lips. "I really should be going."
"Oh, nonsense, son. I insist. No need to make a hasty decision. You can let me know what you think after a couple of weeks. How does that sound?"
The look on the older man's face was so earnest and excited, that Harry faltered. "I'll listen to what he has to say, but I don't make any guarantees."
"Excellent." Gerard said, clapping once for emphasis. He turned to Victor. "A pleasure seeing you today, friend." He clapped him on the shoulder, and began walking away, leaving Victor and Harry alone together.
"So…" Victor started, but seemed unsure of what to say.
"So…" Harry copied. Victor was staring at him openly now, but Harry stood his ground. "What is it that you do here?"
Victor narrowed his eyes a fraction and stayed silent. After a moment, he took in a deep breath and replied, "I don't exactly vork here. But Gerard has taken a liking to me, so I help talk to the people in the rehabilitation ward. I act more as a scout."
"And what exactly are you scouting?"
Victor considered his question, all while obviously scrutinizing him. "I look for potential in people. Magically strong and strong-villed individuals that vill help the organization and those that need more support."
"I see." Harry replied. Victor's scrutiny was beginning to make him feel uncomfortable, so he decided to see if he could get a reaction from him, despite the topic of conversation being dangerous. "So, why are you in France and not Bulgaria?"
The Seeker before him wasn't phased in the slightest. In fact, it appeared he almost expected this conversation to happen, regardless of who brought it up. "That depends on vhether or not you tell me vhy I just lied to Mr. Oberland's face."
Harry raised his eyebrows and brought his head back in a show of fake contemplation, his lips forming a taut line as he considered his comment. He knew he'd been caught, but the way Victor was staring at him from before told Harry that as soon as he answered Gerard's question about his origins, he had known he was full of shit.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you today, Victor." Harry replied. "My reasons are my own."
After another excruciatingly long moment, Victor seemed to come to terms with Harry's answer unnaturally quickly and simply nodded his head in agreement. It was then that he conjured a small business card with a few addresses on the surface: the current building's address, the ministry's address, and Gerard's personal address.
"Send Mr. Oberland an owl to his personal address when you make your decision." Victor said. "The door is that vay."
Harry paused at the abrupt way Victor was pointing him out. "Wait, you're not going to tell me all about the ins and outs of all this?" Harry asked, gesturing around him.
Victor merely chuckled. "I'm afraid anything I do or say to you vould make no difference. I sense you have already made up your mind. However, I do also have a feeling that ve vill be seeing each other much more in the future."
Victor gave him the same exact pointed look that Harry gave to him moments before with Gerard. Though with no context, Harry had no idea what that meant. It could mean he knows his identity, or that he thought he would accept Gerard's offer (highly unlikely), or that he himself would stay in contact with him, or a whole plethora of other scenarios.
These situations were the exact kinds of conditions that Harry hated being in. He hated not knowing what was going on, right down to the very last detail. He often got annoyed when he knew someone was withholding information, spawning from his teenage years when the entire Order decided it was for his own good to not know a damn thing.
However, Harry also knew that in these types of situations, it was best to let time uncover the truth. He was not a very patient man, but he couldn't help feeling that he didn't want to know what Victor was trying to hint at, yet felt inevitable just the same.
Harry nodded in acknowledgement to Victor's comment, to which he returned. As Harry walked out of the room toward the door, Gerard waved at him as he passed.
Luckily, his feet carried him all the way out to the outside of the building and to the apparation point as fast as he could without running or looking like a lunatic. He checked himself for his wand and the newly purchased ring, and disapparated to his flat.
~oOo~
"Where on earth have you been?!" Gabrielle shrieked as he stepped through the threshold of their home. "I've been worried sick! It's almost dark out!"
"I'm sorry, love. I'm so sorry I got held up." Harry said. He didn't know if he should tell her if he was attacked in the streets or not. He wasn't going to lie to her, but he might be able to get away with just not telling her what actually happened so he wouldn't worry her unnecessarily. He barely had time to process what happened as it was.
"You got held up?" she placed her hands on her hips her voice quivering and laced with disbelief. "You 'got held up.' Harry, I owled my parents asking if you were there. We've been worried sick about you and you couldn't even send a patronus or an owl?"
Harry's previous thought quickly fled his mind at the look of distress on her face. Her hair was almost silver; a sure sign that she was on the verge of being extremely angry with him. Even though he felt it better not to worry her with the truth, he knew deep down that he couldn't risk her trust. Not after everything she forgave him for.
Steeling himself over, he sighed and felt his shoulders slump over. "I know, love. I should have contacted you, but I couldn't."
"What do you mean you couldn't?" She snapped. "You've been gone almost all day."
Her voice was dangerously low, and he reached out to hold her hand. He gripped it tightly, hoping it was comforting to her. "Please don't panic when I tell you this."
Her eyes widened at the statement and she drew her head back in alarm. "You expect me not to panic after a comment like that?" Her voice was rising to a definite shriek again.
"I know, love. I know." Harry amended quickly. "Just let me finish the explanation before you say or do anything. Please. I'm a little perturbed at what happened to be honest."
Her features instantly softened and she lowered herself down into her chair without taking her eyes off him. They were at the kitchen table, and he drew in a deep breath before continuing.
"Remember that new sanctuary law passed by the new minister?"
Gabrielle nodded and eyed him worriedly, still breathing heavily from her anger.
"Well, I was running some errands in Wizarding Paris today, and I was attacked." If at all possible, Gabrielle's eyes widened ever further and she sucked in a deep breath of shock. Harry saw her scan his entire body in mere seconds, checking for any sign of an injury. She looked as though she wanted to protest or say something, but she dutifully kept her lips sealed tight.
"I'm not hurt, I promise. If anything, the men who attacked me were worse off than I was." Harry tried to ease her mind on that front at least, chuckling against his better judgement to try and ease the tension in the room.
"How many?" She asked in a small, worried voice.
"Three altogether. They knocked some other bloke out and ganged up on me. I took them down and apprehended them quick enough, but then these Aurors come out of nowhere. I think they were aurors anyway." He paused and thought about his next words. Gabrielle stared at him expectantly. "They magically bound my arms and hands and took my wand."
Harry felt Gabrielle squeeze his hand, and he saw that her brows scrunched up into her look of nervous confusion, inhaling deeply. "How in the name of Merlin were they able to apprehend you when you just took out three lunatics by yourself?"
Harry chuckled bitterly, not amused in the slightest. "They caught me off guard. I thought they were coming for a statement of some kind. That was the protocol in Britain anyway, when Kingsley took over." He shook his head angrily. "Hermione always used to tell me that I put my trust in the wrong people sometimes. Or that I am incredibly unobservant when it comes to the people I should actually mistrust. That there's more to everyone than meets the eye. Trusting these aurors has opened my eyes a bit in that regard."
"What do you mean?" Gabrielle asked. When Harry didn't answer right away, she pried, "What happened Harry?"
"They apparated me to this place I've never seen before, and tried to run diagnostic spells on me." When Gabrielle's face lit up with alarm, he held up his hand. "I threw a fit. Swearing and all. They didn't have the chance, honestly. I wasn't about to let them blow my cover.
No. Some man named Gerard Oberland stepped in and told me I could either let them run the diagnostics or stick around for their little support meeting for attack victims. It was utterly pointless and stupid for me to be there."
"Gerard Oberland?" Gabrielle muttered to herself. "I don't think I've ever heard that name before…"
Harry nodded his head in agreement. "I haven't either. He just came out of nowhere. One of the Healers summoned him I think, because I was making such a ruckus. But this man seemed…I don't know…I felt that I should be wary of him, but I have no idea why. Everything he said, he was obviously trying to help me and the others that were there, but anything he said seemed very two sided. I don't know how else to explain it."
At the last part of his comment, he peered into Gabrielle's eyes again and shrugged his shoulders for emphasis. The whole experience left him feeling exhausted. Gabrielle looked disturbed at his news. Harry continued. "Everyone seemed to respect him a great deal. And they wouldn't let me leave so I stayed for the stupid meeting. Afterward, he tried to get me to join them. He said something about needing someone as compassionate or some bullshit like that."
"What?" Gabrielle exclaimed, surprised. "What did you tell him?"
"That's the thing" Harry said. "I was about to politely tell him to fuck off, when Victor Krum showed up."
"Victor Krum?"
"Yeah." Harry answered. "Apparently, he's been working or volunteering there. I'm not sure for how long. But he almost blew my cover."
Gabrielle withdrew her hand and balled up her fist, placing it on her mouth in a show of agitation and worry. "I managed to give him a look and he lied for me. I'm surprised he did it, honestly. But now he knows something isn't quite right with me. He mentioned that I'll probably be seeing him again."
Silence hung in the air like a heavy blanket as Harry's words hovered around them like a dense fog. All they could hear was the soft inhale and exhale of their intermingling breaths as they thought about what had transpired and what it could all mean.
Finally, Gabrielle shook her head. "I don't like the sound of any of this." Her face looked grave, as though this was the start of something much more sinister. What it was, they couldn't know.
"I know. That's what I was thinking." Harry sighed. "I have no plans of going back there at least. But Victor thinks otherwise apparently, so we'll see I guess."
She took his hand again and squeezed it for good measure. Harry could see that her mind was whirling, and he interrupted her thoughts. "Are you still angry with me?" he asked after another brief silence.
Surprise flitted across her face. "No, Harry I'm not angry. I was worried. I hadn't heard from you all day and then you just disappeared." She ran her hands through her soft, silvery blonde hair. "I'm just glad you're okay." Her admission seemed to lift a weight off her shoulders, because she sighed heavily and met his eyes once more.
He was glad he had her to rely on. He felt the weight of the ring in his robes and felt his hands tremble at the thought. He hadn't told her yet about telling her parents the truth, and he didn't know when he would. But the witch in front of him was an absolute treasure.
The burning ache in his chest glowed and nearly forced him closer to her. He pressed their foreheads together and he felt her cool breath brush his face. "Thank you." Harry whispered. His lips captured hers in a gentle kiss, only deepening when his hands came up to cup her face. She reciprocated eagerly, and he felt her smile as they parted, their lips lingering for only a second.
Harry tried to convey his gratitude and feelings to her in his gaze alone, but knew he was failing. He was incredibly more open with her than he was with anyone else, save for maybe Nick. But he wanted to give her everything.
However, in light of what happened that day, he had two major fears eating away at him. The first, being that she would reject his proposal. The second, that he had unknowingly put himself and therefore, her in danger. That fear settled itself in the back of his mind, ready to fester as the days wore on.
Harry pulled away from her and gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I think I need to go talk with Nick about this. Just to make sure they didn't cast anything on me unknowingly."
Gabrielle kissed him again in agreement, and took his arm to escort him from their flat to the apothecary.
~Hermione~
As the early morning light filtered its way into their room, Hermione admired the deep sheen of her husband's hair. He was sound asleep, and seemed not to have a care in the world. His expression was utterly peaceful and happy.
That was how she loved to see her husband. She couldn't deny that she loved him deeply, despite their constant bickering, and despite the fact that she often wondered if they jumped into their marriage too soon.
She often chastised herself for having second thoughts about Ron, when he clearly only cared about her, her well-being, and their marriage. No, he wasn't perfect. But neither was she. Which was the topic of choice from last night's discussion at dinner.
Hermione had arrived home late again from her duties from work, and was surprised to see Ron at the dinner table, looking at her with hurt in his eyes.
She hesitated at the sight and sheathed her wand in her holster as she hung up her robes. Ron magically lit the candles that illuminated the kitchen and silently gestured for her to sit down. He didn't appear angry or jealous like he usually did. Just hurt and worried.
After a moment, Hermione murmured as she sat down next to him, "Ron…?" She reached out and grasped his hand firmly. "Is something wrong?" A million worries and questions rushed through her head as she thought of their family, who could have been hurt, what could have possibly happened to bring out such despair in her husband's eyes.
He shook his head and looked away from her, gripping her hand loosely. "I had a talk with Bill today."
Hermione furrowed her brows in concern and confusion, nodding her head in a silent display of support to continue his train of thought.
"I'm sorry, Hermione." He said quietly. "I haven't been very supportive of you and your goals. And I was letting jealously get in the way of us again."
She was almost stunned into silence at his admission, and felt tears begin to prick her eyes in relief and gratitude when he spoke again. "I just have to ask though…" He paused. "Do you regret marrying me?"
"What? Ronald, no, I could never regret marrying you." She told him forcefully. "Why would you think that?"
He still couldn't look her in the eyes, but his question brought forth the answer of why he looked so hurt. Maybe she had been missing something important….
"It's just that, you've been gone so much for work. I feel like I never see you anymore, and when I do, all we do is fight or talk about work, or talk about the other blokes at work. I feel like you've been avoiding me." Ron stated, finally looking at her. She could see the fear in his eyes at being rejected.
"Oh, Ron I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel this way. Of course, I want to spend my time with you, but—" She paused, trying to choose her words carefully. Unable to think of anything that would be remotely comforting, she conceded in a small voice. "I'm sorry, Ron."
He squeezed her hand. The gesture was meant to be reassuring, yet it didn't stir any emotion similar within her. He did, however, breathe out a small breath and said, "You know me 'Mione. I need all the verbal reassurance I can get." He smiled at her in an attempt to break the tension and brought her in for a close hug.
"I promise I'll try harder to not be a jealous git." He whispered in her ear.
"Me too." She whispered as well. She pulled back and placed her hands squarely on his shoulders. "But you have to promise me that the obsessive owls and showing up randomly at work stops now. You've seen parts of my job that you don't have the clearance for and it puts everyone's life in danger. It has to stop, please." She added the last part in a small voice. "And I promise to be home more."
He nodded his agreement and came in for a close kiss.
Their promises to each other still rang firmly in her mind, which was why she found herself still in their bed, instead of at work. She usually had herself at the ministry before the sun even rose, but knowing Ron would appreciate the effort she put in to be there when he woke up kept her where she was.
She was hoping it wouldn't be too much longer, as she really had to get going, but he finally began to stir and set her anxieties aside.
Ron turned over and peered into her face with the slightest confusion. When he was able to focus on who was beside him, his face broke into a radiant smile and cupped her cheek. Hermione leaned into his touch and kissed him softly, while he deepened their kiss enthusiastically.
When they parted for air he said happily, "I don't think I've woken up to you next to me since we got married."
Guilt settled in her stomach as she saw the look of utter joy on his face. "I told you I was going to try harder. You know I don't go back on my promises."
She kissed him again and stood up to get ready. She had already been awake for hours and quickly readied herself for the day ahead, having magically prepared everything as she waited for Ron to wake up. She enjoyed pausing to kiss him goodbye as he sat up, a look of contentedness on his face. They exchanged hasty 'I love yous' and she stepped into the floo on her way to the ministry.
~oOo~
Hermione quickly took care of the less mundane tasks before she headed to her office. Those few hours that she lost in her day were going to set her back all week, but she needed to get used to shortening her days to be there for Ron. She had to admit she really was shirking on her duties as his wife, and it wasn't fair to him. Hell, she couldn't remember the last time they had sex before last night. Not that their sexcapades were the hot, fiery sessions that would burn into her mind for days. They were mostly just, blah. Last night was no exception.
Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she trotted down the hallway, expecting to see the front of her office door. Instead, to her surprise, it was obstructed from view by Victor. He was obviously anxious and pacing in front of the door in the middle of the hallway. Oh shit. She thought to herself as she quickened her pace.
"Is everything okay?" She asked as she came within hearing distance of Victor.
He looked up immediately at her voice and relief washed over his eyes as he saw who the owner of the voice was.
He sighed loudly and asked, "Vhere haf you been?" He asked frantically, his accent from before pushing its way out into the open.
"I had business to take care of." She stated, opening her door and ushering him inside. "Now what happened?"
She set down her items from her other tasks, took out a solid black notebook labeled 'Victor,' and poised a muggle pen over a blank page, ready for his report.
"I saw someone new there." Victor started. "He vas different than the others."
"Go on." Hermione prompted.
Victor proceeded to delve into every detail he could think of from the previous night. How he was on his secret mission at the hospital, tracking down his targets and monitoring their moves, when he heard from a few other workers that there was a commotion caused by a new victim. He didn't see it happen himself, but he assumed it was taken care of.
Next thing he knew, he was trying to make conversation with a few of the people there when he was introduced to a Jake Meier.
Hermione stopped writing abruptly. "Jake Meier?" She asked, clearly shocked. This couldn't be Gabrielle Delacour's Jake Meier, could it?
"Yes," Victor said. "He had been attacked and taken in to Sanctuary. He vas talking to Primary Target Number 1."
Hermione scribbled this information down furiously and asked, "What were they talking about?"
Victor scrunched up his face as he concentrated on the memory. "They vere talking about adding in to their ranks. Primary Target Number 1 seemed to be incredibly interested in him. I didn't think much of him until he said he vent to Durmstrang. I don't remember him being there at any point during my schooling."
Victor paused to allow Hermione to finish writing. His eyes glanced behind her as she cast a spell to start up a quick quotes quill to write down the information she couldn't physically write in the amount of time they had.
When she finished the scratching on the paper, she scanned the sheet again, and then looked up expectantly for him to continue.
"Vhen I vas about to say that I didn't remember him at Durmstrang, he gave me this…look. Like—" Victor did a crude demonstration of the facial expression he saw on the man's face. "I stopped immediately and said I remembered."
Hermione glanced up in alarm, but continued writing. "What happened after?" She asked, writing down the last few details.
"Ve had a short conversation. I gave him Primary Target Number 1's card to contact him and told him that I had a feeling ve may be seeing each other in the future."
Finishing up the last few sentences, Hermione finally looked up from her work and scourgified the ink off her hands. "Anything else?" She asked, only to be given a firm shake of the head from Victor.
"Thank you, Victor." She sighed, leaning back into her chair. "Are you alright after last night? Any injuries?"
"No." He replied promptly. "Just the same as usual."
Hermione's smile was full of melancholy as she nodded her head and leaned back in her chair, rubbing the sides of her temples. Victor gave her a moment before asking, "Vhat should be my next step?"
Regarding his question carefully, Hermione looked Victor up and down, sitting in her office chair. "I think we need to have a conversation with Mr. Jake Meier."
~oOo~
Author's Note: Hello again everyone! Thank you so much for reading! I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter up! I had so many plans over Christmas break that I'd get a bunch of chapters done, only to get so sick I could barely walk. Alas, I'm back at it again, so thank you for your patience! My schedule is still super busy so the posting schedule will still be about once a month, though it's taking me much longer to write the chapters now.
If there are any errors, I apologize, I don't have a Beta.
Please review! Thank you!
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I just play with her characters.