* ~ The Eighth Year Universe Series ~ *

PART FOUR

Brave New World

Chapter 82: When the World Comes Crashing Down

A/N: The chapter title is from the song:

Crashing Down by Kevin Rudolf.

"Come on, Potter, first call of the day," Rob said, grabbing Harry by the arm and yanking him to his feet.

Harry glanced over at the clock, "But it's 4.30 pm."

"And?" Rob asked.

"Well, we finish at 5 pm," Harry said.

Rob looked at him, "So?"

"So, doesn't this mean we'll finish late?" Harry asked with a frown.

"Kid, nobody works in Domestics but me. There is no early or late," Rob said, "We just work when we're required. We're meant to be off tonight and tomorrow morning to do a backshift tomorrow, but I can tell you, we'll get calls tonight."

Harry frowned, "But I have a kid to get home to; that's not at all flexible."

Rob scoffed, "I've got a kid too, Potter. Some days he sees his aunt and uncle more than me; that's life as an Auror, so you had better get used to it. Crime doesn't sleep."

Harry sighed but said no more on the subject. He just followed Rob to the apparition point and led him side-apparate him to Diagon Alley.

"What are we doing here?" Harry asked curiously.

"Responding to a noise complaint," Rob replied, leading Harry through the busy alley until they reached a small gap between two shops, "Neighbour called it in, said she heard her upstairs neighbour screaming her lungs out. Got to investigate it and fill out an incident form. It's the law."

Harry nodded as he and Rob squeezed through the gap. It was too narrow to be called an alleyway, one relatively thin person could stand in the gap between the buildings, but someone like Charlie would never have fitted.

Harry hadn't even known that this was here, and as he looked ahead of him, he was shocked to see several doors. Rob obviously noticed the shock on his face. He stepped into an empty stairwell and dragged Harry in after him, "This is one of the worst areas of Diagon Alley, probably worse than Knockturn, to be honest with you. There's not a day that goes by that I don't get a call to one of these flats."

"How many of them are there?" Harry asked quietly.

"Two blocks between each shop," Rob replied, "Each block has five or six flats, depending on whether the landlord has illegally added a floor to maximise his profits."

"Each shop in the alley?" Harry asked in surprise.

Rob nodded, "Yeah, probably over a hundred across the alley. The living conditions aren't great, by the way, not quite as bad as in Knockturn but pretty close, so just…don't look too disgusted when we go inside, or you'll offend someone, alright?"

Harry nodded and followed Rob up the staircase. They passed several doors until they eventually came to a stop on the top floor, which Harry reckoned was the fifth.

Rob knocked on the door loudly. Inside the flat, there was incoherent shouting and banging as someone approached the door. It was yanked open, and a young witch who was still in her pyjamas answered the door.

She rolled her eyes, "What the fuck do you scum want this time?"

"Noise complaint Hetty," Rob replied simply, "Came in from one of your neighbours, got no choice but to investigate it," he held up his badge.

"Fucking bitch downstairs," The woman, Hetty, muttered, stepping back from the door.

Rob walked into the flat, and Harry followed him. The living conditions were pretty bad: black mould grew on the walls, there was no electricity or heating, and the flat felt freezing. Harry glanced at Hetty again; she didn't look much older than him.

Rob looked around as if he knew what he was looking for. Then his eyes fell on two little boys who were obviously twins. They were sitting on a moth-eaten sofa with old toys, both with pieces broken off of them. Harry couldn't quite bear the poverty, but he felt a lump rise in his throat when he saw those boys. He stayed close to the door, just in case he had to make a quick escape because he was well aware of how much he was struggling to contain his emotions.

One of the boys had a black eye, and the other had something wrong with his arm.

Rob knelt in front of them, "Hey boys. What happened to your eye, Joe?"

The little boy shrugged, "Fell off my bed Auror Wolfe."

"Yeah?" Rob asked, turning to the other boy, "And what about your arm Jack? It looks like a sore one."

"It's nothing really Auror Wolfe."

Harry swallowed. It wasn't nothing. The boy's arm was hexed, and the wound was bleeding. The other boy's black eye didn't look like it had been caused by a fall either.

"Doesn't look like nothing," Rob said gently.

"We were just playing with a Weasley's Wizard Wheeze Auror Wolfe," Jack said.

"You sure about that?" Rob asked, his eyes falling on the boys more.

Joe nodded, "Yeah, really Auror Wolfe."

Hetty glared at him, "See? I don't abuse my kids. Can you get the fuck out of my flat now?"

Rob nodded. He got to his feet and pointed his wand at the broken toys on the floor, "Reparo."

The toys mended themselves, and Rob pointed his wand at the walls, "Scourgify Maxima."

The mould disappeared. Finally, Rob pointed his wand at the empty grate in the fireplace and said, "Incendio."

A roaring fire sprung up out of nowhere. Rob holstered his wand and turned to the young witch, "I know a hexed wound when I see one, but I know you ain't got a wand. I confiscated the broken pieces myself, so that makes me wonder just what kinda people you're letting in this place these days."

Hetty's eyes darkened, "Got to feed my kids somehow, haven't I?"

Rob gave her a stern look, "That's three noise complaints this month, Hetty. Your landlord is gonna kick you out soon. Keep the noise down, alright?"

"You hear that?" Hetty asked the boys, a dangerous look flashing in her eyes, "You keep the bloody noise down like Wolfe says."

The boys both nodded, "Yeah, Mum."

"Alright," Rob said, putting his hand on Harry's arm, "Come on, Potter."

Harry let Rob lead him out of the flat, and he said nothing as he followed the Auror down the stairwell. His mind raced as it caught up with what he had just witnessed. That kid with the black eye had been him, quivering when his uncle raised a hand to him.

The kid with the hexed skin, Harry had pictured a young Draco, terrified of his father when he saw that kid. How was that okay? Why were they just walking away from that?

"Why didn't you do something?"

"Not here," Rob hissed under his breath. They had just emerged into the tiny alley.

Harry looked up and caught Rob's eye, "Come on," the Auror muttered.

He wanted answers, so Harry followed him. Once they were in the main alley, Rob led him into the Leaky Cauldron. He showed Tom his badge, and Tom smiled and nodded, gesturing at a room behind the bar.

Rob opened the door and led Harry into a smaller, private room that was currently empty.

"What's this?"

"Private drinking place for Aurors," Rob replied, "Now, why did we just leave? Well, because I didn't have much of a choice. The kids said they were fine. I couldn't arrest the mother on a hunch even if I do end up in that house every other week."

"Why?" Harry asked angrily, "Why can't you arrest her on a hunch?"

"Because it's against the law, and she would get out the moment a lawyer realised I had no evidence," Rob said simply, "Welcome to the real world, Potter. People are fucking arseholes, and there is nothing you can do about it. That's life!"

"Well, it's not right!" Harry fumed, "She abuses those kids! That black eye was from a fist and the hexed skin…it's not a bloody Weasley item."

"You think I don't know that?" Rob scoffed, "Hetty's a fucking prostitute. Neither of those kids has any clue who their dad is, and they'll probably never find out. He'll just be some wanker who didn't use the protection charm because he likes it a bit risky or who paid her extra not to use it."

Harry felt sick.

Rob shook his head, "And yeah, the guys she lets in will hex those kids if they get in the way, and she'll take her frustration out on her kids by hitting them. She's a witch who was expelled from school, she's got no wand, and she lives in squalor, just scraping by."

"You feel sorry for her," Harry said in disbelief.

"I feel sorry for her kids," Rob corrected, "The problem is, there is nothing we can do about it. We don't have child protective services like the muggles do Potter. Here, we have me, and the minute I catch Hetty doing anything, I'm going to throw her arse in jail, but when I do, fuck knows where those boys will end up."

"Anywhere is better than there!" Harry spat.

"Is it?" Rob fumed, "Because they will probably go to an orphanage, probably a muggle one too, and they will be bullied for being different. That makes you grow up hard, makes you grow up hating muggles. Then you get sorted into Slytherin, where people share the belief, and you know what that creates? It creates monsters like the Death Eaters."

"Not always," Harry argued, "I know Slytherins, damn good Slytherins who had a shitty life and didn't let it turn them dark! It's better to be bullied than abused! Those kids are…" he took a breath then stopped himself.

"The same age you were?" Rob guessed.

Harry looked up, "What?" he asked sharply.

"I've been doing this job for a while, Potter," Rob said, his tone a bit softer, "I can spot an abused kid when I see one."

"I…" Harry frowned, "No, I wasn't…."

Rob raised an eyebrow at him, "Right, let me tell you a little something. I got shoved in Domestics because I had the balls to call my colleagues cowards when a smart little kid said Voldemort was back a few years ago. They all shoved their heads in the sand, and I said, no, we start preparing now because if he comes back and we're unprepared, there is gonna be another war."

Harry looked up at Rob in surprise.

Rob just continued, "But no, they chucked me in Domestics, and I hate it, I fucking hate this place. But I hate it because I can't make much of a difference, no matter how hard I try. The reason I stay, even now when I know I could ask for a transfer and have it granted, is because I grew up in an orphanage. It was a muggle orphanage, and it was run by nuns, sadistic nuns. You probably noticed the Irish accent, right?"

Harry nodded. He had noticed an accent, but he being him, hadn't been able to work out if Rob was Irish or Welsh.

"I try to make a difference to their lives cause nobody gave a fuck about mine," Rob said, with a note of finality, "So you don't have to pretend with me, alright, kid?"

Harry nodded, sitting down at one of the tables in the room. He sighed and said, "My muggle uncle was abusive. He spent the first ten years of my life trying to beat the magic out of me. My bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs. I cooked for them, did their gardening. I was a bloody servant, and my cousin learned to beat the shit out of me before he learned to walk. There, that's my tragic backstory."

"Alright," Rob said with a nod, "See, we're getting to know each other now. That's good, means we're going to be a good team."

Harry smiled sadly, "A good team doing what? Seeing abused kids and doing nothing to help them?"

"It's a long game, kid," Rob said, patting him on the back, "We do what we can do and hope we can get them away from the abusers before…well, you know what before."

Before the abuser kills them, Harry thought to himself. He didn't say that he just nodded.

"You draw comfort in the thing that gets you through," Rob said, "For me, it's this little gem. His Mum killed herself when he was two, so it's just him and me, and he's my lifeline."

Harry smiled at the photograph. It was of a little boy who looked around three years old, "What's his name?"

"Nicholas," Rob replied, "I call him Nick, though. What about your kid? He must be pretty young."

"He is," Harry said, showing Rob a picture that he loved. It was of Daphne and Teddy lying in bed together, Teddy grinning and trying to grab her ponytail while she kissed his nose.

Rob smiled, "Cute. Your missus got pregnant young then?"

"No," Harry said, looking down at the photograph thoughtfully, "Teddy is my godson. My good friend Remus, he and his wife died in the final battle, so we adopted Teddy. His full name is Edward, after his grandad."

"Takes a lot of guts to adopt a kid at your age," Rob said, looking at Harry with interest.

Harry shrugged and put the photograph away, "He's a special kid, kind of our whole world actually."

"You must have one hell of a wife," Rob remarked.

"Yeah," Harry said, a proud smile lighting up his face, "I do."

"Hold onto that," Rob said, "Hold onto her and that kid of yours this week because the things you're going to see…well if you found that hard, it's gonna get worse and the only way you're going to get through is by holding onto the good stuff."

Harry nodded, "Thanks, Rob. Sorry for being a bit of a dick to you."

Rob shook his head, "Don't sweat it kid. Everyone is a dick to me. You were only a dick because you cared. That makes you pretty unique."

Harry wanted to say that he wished he could change that, instead he just nodded.

"You get on home to that missus of yours," Rob said, heading for the door, "And I'll see you tomorrow for the backshift. I'll take any calls tonight myself."

Before Harry could volunteer to help him, he had left.

"Babe?"

Harry looked up from his food to see Daphne looking at him with concern, "Are you going to eat any of that?"

"Sorry," Harry sighed, "I'm just…I'm not hungry."

Daphne frowned at him, "Are you going to tell me what happened today? Did a training exercise go wrong or something?"

"No, I'm on a placement," Harry said, his eyes falling on Teddy as he threw his chips around the kitchen.

"A placement?" Daphne asked with interest, "In the real world?"

"Yeah, it's something they are trying out," Harry said, "They put us all with squads in the Auror department. It's just for this week…I don't know if it's a test or something…I don't know."

"Well, what happened?" Daphne asked as she got to her feet and walked towards him, "Because you seem shaken up."

"I'll talk to you once Teddy's asleep," Harry promised her, "But do you mind if I bathe him and put him down tonight?"

Daphne's frown deepened, "Of course not."

Harry smiled at her, then picked the little boy up from his high chair, "Come on, little guy! You are filthy; let's get you all cleaned up and ready for bed!"

He knew that Daphne was worried about him, mostly because of all the hovering she was doing. Harry was aware of her hovering near the bathroom while he bathed Teddy and then outside the bedroom door while he read the little boy his bedtime story.

Once Teddy was all tucked up with his favourite blanket and night light, Harry slipped out of the room and sought Daphne out in the library.

"Alright, I'm well and truly worried," Daphne conceded, "What's going on?"

"I told you, a placement," Harry said, sinking into a comfortable armchair by the fire, "I got put in Domestics."

"Domestics," Daphne repeated, "Is that like husbands beating wives up?"

"Kind of like that," Harry replied, "But I don't know if I can hack it, Daphne. It's so wrong…it's just so fucking wrong."

"What's so wrong about it?" Daphne asked softly.

"The big squads like Homicide, Vice and Organised Crime have at least two pairs of Aurors on each shift," Harry explained, "But Domestics is one guy at a desk shoved at the back of the bullpen. He has no resources and basically no power. Today we got a noise complaint, and we went to these flats in Diagon Alley that were disgusting."

"The Closes," Daphne said.

Harry looked up, "You know about them?"

"Everyone knows about them, Harry," Daphne said, her eyes meeting his, "The Closes coming off of Diagon Alley. There are flats crammed in there, and the conditions are appalling. It's where the poorest of the poor live, the highest rate of squibs are born to families living there too, which is why they think it's got something to do with poverty."

"So if everyone knows about it, why does nobody do anything to help those people?" Harry asked, pushing himself to his feet in disbelief, "Why does nobody care about a mother who clearly abuses her fucking children? Who shags men who hurt her kids to 'pay the bills'? How is it that Rob has been in that flat every other week for months but can't do anything to take those children away from that sick woman!? It's fucking wrong, Daphne!"

Daphne stepped forward and placed her hands on his hips, instantly calming him to a stop.

"It's not right," Daphne agreed softly, "But you have to accept that there is a huge class divide in our world. You have always known about it, but you don't realise how bad it is until you see it firsthand. That, unfortunately, is the problem. Everyone ignores it because they don't have to see it firsthand."

Harry rested his head on her shoulder, "Robs right. I can't fix this."

"Not on your own," Daphne agreed, "But if you can make them see it firsthand, then maybe, with a bit of help, you can."

"You think?" Harry asked, drawing back to look at her.

Daphne nodded, bringing her hand up and resting it on his cheek, "You're Harry Potter, and that's not me saying you can do whatever you want because you're the boy who lived. The name Harry Potter instils hope in so many people, and that's why I believe you can do anything, especially when it concerns changing the world."

Harry smiled warmly at her.

Daphne smiled too. She placed a chaste kiss on his lips, "But you've got to get through this week first."

Harry rested his forehead against hers, "Yeah," he said, thinking of her and Teddy and how right Rob had been, "But I reckon I know how to do that."

Hermione knew that something was wrong the moment Draco dragged himself in the door that night. He usually came in with a smile, and he would greet her with a kiss or a hug. But that night, he came in and smiled half-heartedly at her.

"Hey love," Draco said, dropping down onto the bench seat in the basement kitchen, "How was your day?"

"Boring," Hermione replied as she put a plate of food in front of him, "I'm in the Improper Use of Magic Office right now; it's 90% paperwork."

"I thought you loved paperwork," Draco said, picking up his fork and looking down at his food.

"Not that much," Hermione said, sitting down opposite him, "Does it really look that bad?"

"No, it looks great," Draco said honestly, he put a small amount on his fork and ate it, but Hermione could tell that he didn't want to.

Hermione leant back and raised an eyebrow, "Okay, let's drop the pretences, shall we? I know you had a placement today. It has been the talk of the office, so what happened?"

Draco dropped his fork and sighed, "I got Organised Crime."

Hermione frowned, "Right."

"Right?" Draco asked in disbelief, "Organised Crime, Hermione. Just to make things clear, that is what is left of the Aurors who hunted down the Death Eaters."

Hermione's eyes widened, "Oh…oh! Oh my god! Did they beat you up? Are you hiding broken bones? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, physically," Draco snapped, letting his head rest on his hands, "But I spent the whole day defending myself against any Auror who wanted to have a go at me. I can't count how many times I was called Malfoy; one of them even spat on me. That's the opinion they have of me, Hermione, the people who are going to be my colleagues."

"That's disgusting!" Hermione said, throwing her fork down on the table and standing up, "What happened to equal opportunities? You have just as much right to be there as anyone else! Just like house-elves have the right to ask to be paid for their employment and just like Muggle-borns should be treated the same as every other Witch or Wizard! I'll storm in there myself tomorrow and set them right. Was it Graves? I bet it was fucking Graves, wasn't it!"

"Hermione!" Draco snapped, getting to his feet and grabbing her by the shoulders, "You won't go anywhere near that bullpen because this is my battle, and I need to fight it on my own. Do you think it's going to help my case if my war heroine fiancé goes in there to fight my battles for me?"

Hermione blew out a breath, "No, but I want to."

"Of course you do," Draco said, smiling softly at her, "You just want to protect everyone, and you also tend to fire up and lose your temper. Why do you think we all called you the Gryffindor Princess?"

Hermione smiled slightly, "I just don't think you deserve it, Draco."

"Whether I deserve it or not, I need to get through it," Draco said with a sad smile, "It's just for a week. With any luck, I can gain their respect, but if I don't, once I graduate, I'll always have Theo, Harry or Neville hanging around to have my back."

Hermione nodded, "Okay, I won't go and fight any battles for you."

"I appreciate the thought," Draco promised, leaning in and kissing her passionately.

As Harry spent the week with Rob, he realised quite how hard it was. The noise complaints didn't get better, and he already dreaded going to the Closes. The moment they got a call there, Harry knew that it wouldn't be pretty, and there was never anything that they could do about it.

Rob would say something, and Harry's stomach would turn. Like when he had told Harry that he was nipping off to Azkaban to pick up a baby. Harry was alarmed when Rob told him that the mother was serving a life sentence but had just given birth, so the baby needed to be picked up and placed in an orphanage.

"Women give birth in Azkaban? We don't have a safer, more hygienic prison for them?" Harry had asked in horror, and Rob had shaken his head and advised Harry to stay in the ministry if that was his opinion because he might actually throw up if he went with Rob and saw the conditions.

Harry ignored this advice and went with him, and Rob hadn't been wrong. As the week wore on, he understood why Rob had described the job as soul-destroying.

The more time he spent in the Closes and at orphanages, the more Harry thought about the lack of care for children in the wizarding world. It was like nobody gave a shit about them until they went to Hogwarts, but by the age of 11, some of them were fucked up beyond belief.

When he thought about it, it was a wonder that he hadn't turned out just like Voldemort. He had grown up with people who hated him, with no concept of love. Often he thought that the sacrifice his mother had made to save him must have kept him sane, kept him good, somehow at a cellular level. But Voldemort had turned out the way he did because the system failed him.

There was an old myth, of course, that those conceived under the influence of a love potion were incapable of love, but even if that were true, they could still be capable of empathy. His mind ran wild with what if's. What if Voldemort had been raised by someone who loved him? Someone who taught him right from wrong? Someone who taught him that fear wasn't the key to harmony?

"Potter."

Harry looked up.

"Call," Rob said.

Harry swallowed and got to his feet, hoping that Rob wasn't about to tell him that it had come from the Closes, "Where?"

"In the lobby," Rob replied, "Come on, you'll see. It's a new one for you."

Harry very much doubted that was a good thing. He followed Rob, thinking that he meant the foyer outside the DMLE, but he didn't. Rob led him to an area of the DMLE that he hadn't known existed. It was a room off of the bullpen, a tiny waiting room with no more than three chairs crammed into it, and nothing else apart from a tiny table with old magazines and a machine that distributed free water.

Two seats were empty, but one wasn't. A little girl sat there; she couldn't have been older than five. She looked about the right age to start primary school. She had blonde hair, which was currently pulled back into pigtails. She wore a ratty summer dress and knitted tights with several rips in them. She was holding onto an old copy of the Quibbler, and Harry's stomach turned when he saw that her hands were stained with dried blood. He looked at that kid, and he just saw Luna. He saw Luna after her mother had died in a potions accident, and his heart broke.

He was supposed to be shadowing Rob, but Harry couldn't help himself. He stepped into the room and knelt in front of that little girl, "Hey sweetie," he said softly.

She looked up from the magazine, and Harry smiled at her, "My names Harry and I'm here to help you, okay?"

The little girl nodded.

"Can I use a spell to clean up your hands?" Harry asked her.

She nodded.

"It will tickle a little," Harry said, then he cast the charm which scrubbed the blood from her hands. He was aware of Rob's eyes on him, but he just carried on.

"Thank you, mister Auror," The little girl said.

Harry smiled sadly at her, "Call me, Harry."

"Okay, Harry."

"What's your name?" Harry asked her.

"My names Nina."

"That is a beautiful name Nina," Harry said, smiling warmly at her.

She smiled back brightly, "Thanks! Are you gonna find me a new home?"

"Yeah, honey, we are," Rob's voice said from behind Harry.

Harry stood up and let Rob take over. He smiled at the little girl, "You stay here and read your magazine, and we'll be back real soon, okay?"

Nina nodded and looked down at the Quibbler once more.

Rob opened the only other door in the room and led Harry inside. Harry shut the door behind him and looked around. The room was filled with scrolls.

"Accio the family tree of Nina Frost."

"She's an orphan, isn't she?" Harry asked, his voice thick with emotion.

"Yes, she is," Rob replied, smoothing out a family tree.

"What happened to her parents?"

"Potions accident," Rob replied quietly, "She found their bodies."

Harry drew in a sharp breath, "That poor kid."

Once more, he thought of Luna, and he just wanted to find out what continent she was on and give her the biggest hug.

"There's a lot of poor kids like her that pass through these doors," Rob said, looking down at the family tree, "Most of their parents don't have a will."

"Does it make a difference?" Harry asked.

"Course it does," Rob replied, "A will states who will raise the children in the event of the death of both parents."

"Why the hell did Muggles raise me then?" Harry asked bitterly.

"Because Albus Dumbledore decided that he knew better," Rob said darkly, "He had a habit of doing that. Your parents will stated that Sirius Black and Remus Lupin would raise you in the event of their death. When your godfather was sent to prison, Remus Lupin should have taken you in, but Dumbledore argued against it because of his blood status."

"Because he was a werewolf," Harry muttered irritably.

"Yeah," Rob replied with a sigh, "So you went to the muggles because Dumbledore thought it was best."

"Doesn't that just prove how fucked up our system is?" Harry fumed, "Or lack of it more to the point? I mean, why the hell was the Headmaster of a school the person who got to make the call about who raised me, Rob? Why did a man who wasn't part of my life for another ten years get to make the biggest decision of my life? I admired him for so long, but I don't know why because he was the reason I ended up there, thinking that I was going to get beaten every time I said something wrong, getting locked in that fucking cupboard for weeks on end, being half-starved by the time I got free of them."

Rob reached out and grasped his shoulder, "Working this job makes you reflect on your own fate, but you can't dwell too much. You got strong, and you got out. That's all that matters, Harry. You've got your sanity and your pride, and you've changed the world for a hell of a lot of people."

"Not for everyone, though."

"You can't save everyone," Rob said simply, "I know you want to, but you just can't."

"I know," Harry said, thinking of all the people who he hadn't been able to save up to this point. From Cedric through to Remus, Tonks and Fred, to Dean and Tracey.

"Right now, we've got to focus on Nina," Rob said, drawing Harry out of his thoughts, "We've got to get that kid somewhere other than an orphanage because anything is better than that."

"Not quite anything," Harry said, looking down at the family tree, "What are you doing?"

"Tracing her relatives," Rob replied, "Ideally in the wizarding world since she has shown signs of her magic manifesting. Placing her with muggle relatives is a last resort."

"But her mother was a muggle-born, and her father was an only child," Harry pointed out as he looked at the family tree in front of them.

"Yep, but if we go back to here…" Rob traced lines with his fingers, "Then go down this line here. There are living relatives."

"Rob," Harry said in disbelief, "You're going back five generations just to make a connection. You're talking about telling Howard Abbott there's this kid that he's distantly related to through what? His great grandfather's sister? And you just expect him to take her in?"

"That's pretty much how it works, yeah," Rob replied.

"Well, it's fucked up," Harry said with a shake of his head, "You can't just farm that kid off to some distant relative."

"What's the alternative, Harry?" Rob asked, looking up at Harry irritably, "Have you got one? Cause I've been doing this a long time, and I don't."

Harry sighed and looked towards the door, "I could take her in for a few days until we work something out."

"No, you're a trainee Auror, you're not just taking some random kid home," Rob said with a shake of his head, "We have 48 hours to place her or she goes to an orphanage, so I suggest you get off of your high horse and write a letter to this Howard Abbott."

Harry looked down at the family tree.

"No."

Rob growled, "Potter-"

"No, I'm not going to write a letter to him," Harry said calmly, "I'm going to go and visit him, and I'm going to spend half an hour drinking tea with him and explaining Nina's situation before we dump her on his fucking doorstep Rob because that's what a decent human does."

"Nah, Potter," Rob said, throwing down his quill, "That's how a Marquess talks to an Earl, not how an Auror does it."

Without another word, he left Harry alone in the room.

* ~ TBC ~ *