"Kalopsia"
"Chapter Seven"
Two Weeks Prior
Ron Weasley entered the Auror Department with a cup of tea in one hand and his briefcase in the other, whistling the tune to the latest Seven Little Witches kids' song that always made Rosie smile and bounce. His eyes roamed across the bullpen looking for Harry, but he only spotted Demelza by the water cooler flirting with one of the newest recruits. She threw her head back, her long dark hair bouncing behind her shoulder. Ron immediately headed in her direction, pleased to have a reason to annoy his favorite junior Auror.
"Oi, Robins!" Ron shouted as he maneuvered his way through the throng of co-workers. "Robins!"
Demelza turned, annoyance painted across her features. She tucked a piece of dark hair behind her ear and crossed her arms over her chest, a cup of water clenched in her hand. Her foot tapped, one eyebrow arched elegantly in the air.
"Your boyfriend is already working in his office," Demelza said with a smirk as Ron stopped in front of her.
"Your boyfriend is… oh, wait, you don't have a boyfriend." Ron smiled back.
"Nah, why settle down when I can have my pick of any guy I want? A new flavor every week, if I so choose." Demelza cast a glance at the recruit and winked. He chuckled, his fingers tugging at the collar of his robes.
Ron rolled his eyes, leaning his body against the wall next to the water cooler and glanced at the recruit. "Do you mind?"
"Err, sorry, Auror Weasley. I'll just… um… bye." He darted off, leaving behind his cup of water.
"Must you?" Demelza asked, her nose wrinkling. "He's cute, and we were having a lovely chat before your ugly arse showed up."
"First, we both know my arse isn't ugly, and second, I'm clearly more interesting to chat up."
Demelza rolled her eyes as Ron glanced over at Harry's closed office door. The fact that Harry's door was closed meant two things: he was definitely working late and that meant he was going to miss the new episode of Forensics, Bones, and Brains of Darkness.
Demelza took a sip of her water before she arched an eyebrow, failing to hide her smirk. "Guess what got dumped on your and Harry's plates."
"If you tell me it's that bloody potions case that Ellis and Addington have been moaning and groaning over, I'm going to protest!" Ron exclaimed, groaning when he saw her eyes light up with amusement. "Bloody hell! That's going to lower our solve rate!"
"Oh no, not your solve rate!" Demelza placed a hand over her heart, her features tugging downward dramatically. "How will you ever survive a drop in percentage? Will it still stay in the nineties or, Merlin forbid, will it drop to the eighties?"
"Shut it."
"Will you survive? Should we have a burial ceremony for your dying solve rate?" Demelza turned to her right and waved down Reed and Sutton. "Weasley's got the serial killer potions case! His solve rate is in jeopardy! We may need a memorial! We have to book the Crystal Ballroom at The Galleria in Apricity Lane immediately! Grab it before it's too late!"
Sutton laughed and clapped Ron on the shoulder. Reed winked at Demelza. Ron scowled. He shrugged Sutton's hand off his shoulder and made his way towards his office.
"We'll make sure we get the premium package!" Sutton called. "Real linens and those fancy embossed glasses!"
Ron shot a rude gesture behind his back quickly as the three of them cackled. He headed into his office and a file marked URGENT on his desk made him growl. He placed his briefcase on the floor and flipped open the file to see it was the case that Ellis and Addington couldn't crack – a serial killer using experimental potions to kill their victims. It had been a case that drove Robards into fits of insanity over the past few months, lashing out on the lack of leads and the lack of progress. It was the last case that Ron wanted.
Taking a sip of his tea, he closed the file in disgust before going through his post. One letter caught his eye. The handwriting was unfamiliar, and there was something lumpy rolled up in the parchment. Opening the letter, a pair of knickers fell out on his desk, and Ron's eyebrows raised in the air as he read the letter.
Oh, Harry needed to see this.
Ron plucked the knickers off his desk and wrapped them back in the letter before bolting from his office. Holmes jogged to catch up with him and matched his stride, a wide grin plastered across his face.
"Heard about your memorial at the Galleria. I'll be there," Holmes commented with a fake sympathetic voice. "Shame it has to go down this way."
"Fuck off, Holmes! Tell Robins I'm going to kill her!"
"She's already picked out a band to play the sad trombone for you when you walk in."
Yup, he was definitely going to kill her, he told himself as he entered Harry's office without knocking, the piece of parchment clutched in one of his hands and his tea in the other. Plopping himself down across from his best mate, Ron waited patiently for Harry to acknowledge his presence. Except his best mate, workaholic extraordinaire, was enthralled in some report on his desk.
"Good morning to you, sunshine," Ron greeted, tapping the rolled-up parchment on his knee.
"Hey," replied Harry, the fingers of his left-hand coiling in his unruly locks.
Oh no, that was Harry Potter's telltale sign he was frustrated. He was more likely to snap or become irritated at a drop of a hat when he was in one of those moods. Ron decided he wanted to have some fun of his own.
"Hermione and I booked a safari to Madagascar. Thought we'd go Snorkhood hunting with Luna," Ron said casually.
"That's nice," replied Harry, his brows disappearing behind his glasses.
"It's a naked safari. Thought the wizards and witches of Madagascar needed to see a prime example of what a fine arse looks like," Ron continued.
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"I've signed up to partake in a Harry Potter lookalike competition this weekend. One category is swimwear. Can I borrow your swim trunks from that Greece holiday you took with the kids last year? You know, the famous trunks. The ones where a photographer got you showing off half your arse when you stood up after getting taken out by a wave. I'd win for sure if you could let me borrow them."
"Yeah, sure."
"I'm leaving Hermione. Robards and I shared a passionate kiss this morning. He's my one true love."
"That sounds fine."
Ron rubbed his temple. "Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry."
"What?" Harry snapped, his attention finally off his work. "What is it?"
"You haven't been listening to me for the past five minutes, and I have something amazing to tell you."
"I was listening."
"What's the last thing I said?"
"Uhh… Robards wants to see us?" Harry replied slowly, sounding more and more unsure each word he spoke.
"Wrong!" Ron tossed the rolled-up parchment in front of Harry. "Go on, look!"
Harry eyed Ron warily before he unrolled the parchment and a pair of lacy pink knickers fell onto his desk.
"What the…?" Harry recoiled. "Why are there dirty knickers on my desk?"
Ron grinned. "According to the letter, Ashley, the owner of said knickers and red lipstick kiss by her signature, is a huge fan of Forensics, Bones, and Blood of Darkness. She has listened to my episode at least twice a week since it aired and finally got the courage to write me. Move over, Harry, you're not the only bloke to get knickers in the post anymore!"
Harry grimaced. "I haven't received dirty knickers in the post for years. It's not exactly something to be proud of."
"Ron Weasley… as famous as Harry Potter that girls are legit sending their used knickers to me. Never thought I'd see the day."
"Yeah, right, can you get your gross knickers off my desk that you're so proud of and pitch them in the bin before Hermione sees?"
"Hermione and I have a solid relationship where we aren't jealous of such trivial things. We're mature adults, Harry! She'd find it just as funny as I do!"
"Yeah, mature and non-jealous." Harry snapped his fingers and pointed his index finger at Ron. "Hey, didn't I have to stop you from hexing McLaggen at the last Ministry Christmas party when he was chatting Hermione up by the bar? Wasn't Hermione uncharacteristically rude to a Muggle server the other week, because she was flirting with you during lunch?"
Ron pursed his lips to the side, nodding. "Nah, you're right. I better get rid of these before Hermione hunts this Ashely down and gives her a lecture or hexes her or something."
With a wave of his wand, the knickers and letter vanished from Harry's desk. Harry glanced up at his best mate, a smile twitching on his lips.
"By the way, you and Robards would never last. You'd never be able to live with the fact that he has a nicer arse than you."
"Oi!" Ron shouted as Harry chuckled. "Do I need to show you the magnificent Merlin freckle pattern on my arse cheek again? My hard and sculpted arse, may I add?"
"I'm good." Harry glanced back down at the paperwork on his desk. "Did you hear?"
"That we got the worst case of the year assigned to us? Yeah, I bloody well heard and ruddy Robins is out there planning a party for when our solve rate drops! That witch lacks confidence in our extraordinary skills."
Harry made a hmm sound as he nudged the parchment towards Ron. He squinted to try to read Harry's chicken scratch, but it was useless. His best mate's handwriting had become worse over the years as he scribbled notes in the margins of whatever he was reading, crossed out things he didn't think were important, and circled things he thought were interesting.
After fifteen years of friendship, it still amazed him how focused his best mate was when it came to work. He spent far more time in the Ministry gym and dueling training room than Ron ever did. There was a stack of Dark Arts books piled so high on Harry's desk that Ron thought the only reason they didn't fall was because of magic. There were at least a dozen work files strewn across his desk, and Hermione had recently complained about how messy it was, completely unconvinced that Harry's organization was real. But Ron knew his best mate knew exactly where everything was.
"Is there a reason we got the case?"
Harry leaned back in his chair. "There's a new victim, and she's alive."
"Well, that's new information that will show Robins our solve rate isn't dropping."
Harry's brow furrowed. Ron knew for a fact that Harry didn't care about their solve rate. He only cared about their unsolved rate like a right maniac. The people they saved were never enough. It was always the people they lost that Harry struggled with.
"The victim is a fifteen-year-old girl. She's in St. Mungo's right now." Harry said, his lips thin. "I'm reading a little bit about her background before heading over. I feel like she's fifteen, right, so we should probably… I don't know. Research how to talk to her?"
"Merlin, Harry, you talk to her like you would any other normal person." Ron sat up, a grin plastered across his face.
"She's fifteen. I was thinking a little more… tact was needed. She's an orphan. Her parents died in the war. She has an eight-year-old sister. They lived with their grandparents after the war until they died two years ago. Now, they're with some uncle who seems like a real winner." Harry ran a hand through his hair, his fingers massaging the top of his head.
"Oh, that's why you're taking it so seriously." Ron rested his fists on Harry's desk and leaned forward.
"Excuse me?"
"She's a war orphan and living with a winner of an uncle. Sounds familiar. Mate, you can't take each victim so seriously, it will drive you mad."
Harry scowled but didn't contradict him. "Are you coming with me? I want to go this afternoon. Maybe you should brush up a bit on the case first?"
"Of course, I'm coming with you. Don't be dense." Ron waved a hand. "You can brief me on the way to the hospital."
Ron left Harry to his report, deciding to find Ellis and Addington for an update instead of reading the reports. By the time he and Harry walked the corridors of St. Mungo's, he was completely up to speed and better understood Harry's anger. This case was a bloody mess and the wizard orchestrating it was clearly insane.
Harry flashed his badge at the Welcome Witch, explaining that they were there on official business, while Ron leaned against the desk. His eyes roamed around the bustling hospital while they waited for the all clear. Several moments later, they were on their way to the victim's room.
"Maisie Anders," Harry spoke in a low tone. "Age fifteen, Gryffindor, and apparently constantly in trouble at school. Her Hogwarts records show that she's been suspended multiple times in the past couple of years. I had a fire-call with Professor McGonagall earlier. She said Maisie is constantly fighting with other students, hexing in the halls, bringing in illegal substances to school, lashing out at professors. Apparently, her and Neville had a screaming match one day in Herbology. McGonagall said it was one of the few times she saw Neville lose it with a student."
"Oh, well, this will be pleasant then." Ron craned his neck to the side to release some tension. "Anyone who can get Neville to raise his voice is a very special person."
"She sounds troubled." Harry frowned. "Almost like she's crying out for help but nobody is helping her."
"Well, doing the things she's doing isn't going to win her any friends or allies."
Harry paused in his stride. Ron sighed, turning around to glance at his best mate. Pursing his lips to the side, he waited patiently for Harry to speak.
"It can be hard to ask for help," Harry said slowly, "especially at that age. You can feel… like nobody has ever helped you in the past, so why should things be different now? She probably has been on her own for a while with little support and doesn't know how to ask for help or doesn't believe anyone would be willing to help her."
"Well, maybe we can change that, yeah?" Ron clenched his jaw, his eyes soaking in Harry's thin lips and tense posture. "We help people, and we can help her, too. You said it's her and her little sister?"
"Yeah."
"Alright, well, let's talk to Maisie and see if we can get Ministry Child Services involved."
Harry nodded curtly before he walked briskly by Ron, their shoulders knocking together. Ron carded a weary hand through his red hair and followed his best mate. This case would not be a fun one.
Harry entered the room first, holding the door open for Ron. He nodded his thanks and stepped inside. Maisie Anders laid pale on the eggshell sheets, her eyes glassy and hair disheveled. She looked up at Harry and Ron, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling. Harry stepped up to the hospital bed, his hands stuffed in his pockets and shoulders slouched. Ron hung back, letting Harry take the lead.
"My name is Harry Potter. I'm an Auror who has-"
"I know who you are," Maisie snapped. "Do you think I live under a rock? You can't pick up a newspaper or a magazine without at least a mention of you and your family."
Ron glanced over at Harry just in time to see him grimace.
"Can you tell us what happened?"
"I had a bad trip." Maisie shrugged. "Some weirdo gave me some laced potions. I don't know. It was awful, whatever he gave me."
"Can you tell us the man's name? Where you met? How you met? If he took you anywhere?" Harry pressed.
"We met up in Malefic Way. He approached me and said he could make my life less shitty, said I could transcend to some higher plane… or whatever. I'm not exactly sure."
"Maisie, I need to know everything. The potion found in your system has been found in several murder victim's systems. You're the only known survivor." Harry crossed his arms over his chest, his expression soft. "He would have killed you if you didn't escape. I'm assuming you escaped?"
Tears burned Maisie's eyes as she looked between Ron and Harry. Her hands wrung the blanket, her bottom lip sliding between her teeth. Her eyes closed momentarily as the tears escaped her eyelashes and splashed down her face.
"I don't know his name. He side-Apparated with me to some old farmhouse. We sat in his kitchen, and he told me it was best to directly inject the potion into my bloodstream. He pulled out some weird sharp-looking thing, he placed a band on my arm that was really tight, and he shoved the pointy thing into my arm."
She held out her left arm, and Ron could see the small red dot in the crease of her elbow. He cocked his head to the side. It looked just like the marks he had seen on the postmortem reports on the other victims' necks. His eyes trailed up to her neck to see an array of red dots on the right side of her neck as well.
"I had the worst trip of my life. I was, like, dreaming the entire time. My sister never existed in my dream and my parents were alive. I just wanted to wake up, but I couldn't wake up."
"How did you manage to make it to the field?"
Maisie sniffed. "I woke up in a barn, and my hands were tied above my head. The rope wasn't that tight, so I managed to slip my wrist out. I remember laying on the floor for a long time, and I was really confused. I was so scared he'd come back, but he didn't. Eventually, I got the feeling back in my legs, and I started crawling. Then, after a while, I could run and just ran as fast as I could. I woke up here."
"You were found unconscious in a field," Ron spoke up. "Do you think you could describe how long you ran for? What direction you came from? Any signs to indicate where you were?"
Maisie shook her head in the negative, her eyes casting down to her lap.
"I'd like to see the memory, if you'd be willing to give it," Harry added. "We'd need permission from your legal guardian, because you're underage, but I won't ask for that permission if you don't want to give the memory."
Masie laughed bitterly. "He'd never give you permission. He doesn't care about me or my sister or anybody but himself. He hasn't come to visit, and I think he's keeping Abigail from me."
"Abigail, is your sister?" Harry raised his eyebrows.
Maisie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah. She's just a kid. She doesn't… it's just… I'd like to see her. I know she's worried."
"We could go talk to your uncle about bringing Abigail here to visit," Ron offered, only to receive a glare from Harry and a horrified look from Maisie.
"No!" Maisie let out a soft sob. "Please, don't. He won't like being bothered!"
"We won't talk to him," Harry reassured. "I understand."
Ron frowned as Harry and Maisie exchanged a look that he couldn't comprehend.
"I'll give the memory if you can find a way around getting my uncle's consent." Maisie looked directly at Harry as she spoke. "I don't want him even asked."
"I'll figure out a way around it," Harry promised. "He won't be involved. You have my word."
Maisie nodded. "You're a lot nicer than I thought you'd be."
Harry's eyebrows raised above the frames of his glasses. "Yeah?"
"I mean, you're famous and whatever." Maisie shrugged, a blush creeping up on her cheeks.
Harry merely nodded, and Ron could tell by the way he shifted that he had become uncomfortable with the turn in conversation. Deciding to put his best mate out of his misery, Ron thanked the teenager for the information and said they would be in touch. He clapped Harry on the shoulder, and the two left the hospital room.
They walked in silence towards the fireplaces, a heaviness hanging between them. Ron could practically hear Harry's morose thoughts. He hated when Harry would get into one of his moods. They were far and few between as of late. When they hit, they hit him hard.
"You did well talking to her," Ron whispered. "You seemed far more competent in understanding her than I did."
Harry shrugged.
"You should do more of the talking," Ron continued. "I know you always like when I take the lead on talking to victims and such due to my winning personality and wit, but you're not so bad at connecting with people like you think you are."
"Can we not?" Harry stopped in his stride. "I get her, because she's had a crappy childhood. Her family and loved ones have all died, and she's left with a pretty crappy home life where she can't rely on anyone but herself. I know how that feels, and you know I know how that feels. So, can we just not?"
"I didn't mean anything by it, mate, you know that."
Harry ran a hand through his already unruly hair. "I know. I don't need a pep talk, though, alright, Ron?"
Ron opened his mouth, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but he snapped it shut. Instead, he nodded, his hands shoving deep into his Auror robe's pockets.
"Excuse me, Mr. Potter, sir?"
Ron glanced down to see a little girl with tangled blonde hair and rumpled clothes standing before them. She couldn't have been older than seven or eight. There was a smear of soot on her nose and mismatched socks were visible because her pants looked like they were a size too small on her. Harry knelt down in front of the girl, a soft smile gracing his features.
"Are you lost?" Harry questioned.
She shook her head. "No, I wanna be here, but they won't let me be here."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked as he crouched down next to Harry.
"I want to see my sister, but they say I can't see my sister without an adult, but my uncle doesn't wanna come so I just come alone and hope someone will change their mind and let me see her," she said in a long breath, her eyes darting around as though she half expected someone to yell at her.
"Are you Abigail?" questioned Harry.
"How do you know my name?" She cocked her head to the side.
"I was just seeing Maisie. That's your sister, isn't it? She talked about you, said she missed you and wanted to see you."
"Did she?" Abigail smiled, her whole face lighting up. "She's always so worried about me. She… she… well, she gets in trouble a lot on purpose at school, so she can come home and check up on me."
"She does?" Harry frowned. "Is there something she should be worried about?"
"Um, no, not really. I'm okay. I can take care of myself." Abigail tugged on her too short sleeve of her threadbare jumper. "Maisie taught me how to before she went off to Hogwarts."
"Why don't you let me talk to some of the staff here and see if we can't get you special privileges to visit your sister, yeah?"
The tiny girl bounced on her heels, a wide smile crossing her features. Harry stood up to his full height and held out a hand for the girl. She took it eagerly, her face turning a bright red.
"CanIhaveyourautograph?" the girl said in a rush.
"Hmm?" Harry glanced down at her as they walked down the corridor.
Ron couldn't help but chuckle, fully understanding what the little girl wanted. He grinned.
"She wants your autograph, Harry," Ron supplied, and the little girl blushed some more.
"How about this? I'll give you my autograph, but you can't show anyone but your sister, alright? You have to keep it secret so that it remains special." Harry gave the girl a very serious look.
"Anything! I'll keep it super secret and special! I promise!"
Ron stood mildly impressed as he watched Harry talk to hospital administrators for a good twenty minutes, demanding them to allow Abigail access to her sister without a guardian. He leaned against the wall, Abigail next to him, as his best mate raised his voice, drawing the attention of onlookers. It was something that Harry rarely did, and it still impressed Ron at the ease with which he did so when it was needed.
When they finally reentered Maisie's room, Abigail squealed and ran to her sister's bed. They hugged, and Ron soaked in the joyous reunion. He noticed Harry trying to quietly exit the room without being noticed, but Abigail heard the doorknob jiggle. She jumped off the bed and cried for Harry to stop. She crooked a finger, and Harry obediently knelt down to her level.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Potter!" Abigail wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
Ron stepped over to Maisie and whispered, "She was in the waiting room. Harry practically threatened the hospital staff to let her in. Your uncle wasn't involved."
"Oh, thanks." Maisie's brow furrowed.
"Look, are there any other relatives you would feel more comfortable living with?" Ron questioned. "Harry can pull just about any string he wants. I know he'd go to bat for you, if you wanted."
"We have a great aunt in Ipswich," Maisie responded, her eyes on Abigail. "She was always really nice to us. She was on our mum's side."
"Maisie!"
Ron turned to see the little girl running towards the bed with a piece of parchment clutched in her hand. She clamored up on the bed and showed her sister.
"Mr. Potter gave me his autograph! We can't tell anyone, though, because he doesn't want anyone to try to take it from us! It's our little secret. Just me and you."
Ron glanced over at Harry and bopped his head from side to side. Harry shrugged before slipping out of the room. Ron trailed after him, a wide grin on his face.
"You're such a sucker for kids," Ron commented.
Harry ignored him, picking up his pace.
One Week and Six Days Prior
Ron groaned as he tried to crack his neck. They had been standing in the field where Maisie had been found for a good hour. Harry had cast every spell known to wizard-kind in an attempt to detect any spells that may have been used or identify any wand signatures. The field went on for as far as the eye could see. They had wandered around the field forever. His legs ached, his stomach grumbled, and he felt mentally drained.
"Harry, there's no evidence to collect. We have no idea which direction the barn would even be in, because she was higher than a Quaffle and disoriented. Some Muggle in an automobile picked her up on the side of the road. So, in theory, I would assume she may have come from across the lane and not this deep into the field."
Harry turned to look at Ron, a frown etched on every crevice of his face. "I'm assuming the barn would be heavily warded. We may have already found it but have been charmed away from it."
"Isn't there a rule or something that says you can't excel in both potions and spell work?"
"Yeah, just because we're rubbish at potions doesn't make that the rule." Harry snorted.
"I'm starving. It's past lunch. Can't we just call it a day?" Ron whined. "We can check out maps and such for property in the area."
"I've already pulled up all Muggle and magical real estate maps in the area. No barn, no dwelling, no house, no nothing for miles." Harry sighed, his jaw clenching. "I'm assuming he's made it Unplottable."
"Maybe he's secretly a Black with all the heavy warding. Certainly, he's psycho enough to be a Black."
Harry shot him a look but said nothing. They trekked further the field. Ron kicked the tall grass as he followed Harry dutifully around the field. Harry continued to mutter under his breath, his wand moving from side to side.
Ron paused in his stride, his eye catching a spot of dirt that looked like it had been freshly dug. It looked big enough to be a grave. Ron swallowed, his arm darting out to hit Harry in the arm. Harry turned, his eyes immediately seeing the dirt patch.
"None of the other bodies were found buried, were they?" Ron whispered, not entirely sure why he was whispering.
"No, they were all on the side of roads or in rivers." Harry peered at the gravesite, his face stretching in disgust. "We should call a forensics team in."
Ron nodded, already ahead of him, as he pulled his wand out from his robe's pocket. He swirled his wrist, his Jack Russell Terrier gliding along the tall blades of grass. It took only twenty minutes for a full forensics team to arrive on the scene - Muggle Repelling Wards enacted, crime scene tape wrapped around trees, and enchanted shovels dug at the earth.
The stench hit their nostrils around the same time the shovels collided with the hard top of a poorly constructed coffin. Ron covered his nose and mouth with the end of his robe sleeve as Harry used his hand to cup his face.
The top floated off to reveal two partially decayed bodies. The clothes and hair showed one was a man and one was a woman. Ron took a step closer, peering into the grave, his eyes gliding over the two bodies. He spotted the rings on their hands but no other jewelry.
"How fast can you get a positive ID on these two?" Harry's voice rang in his ears.
"If they are wizards, a few days. If they're Muggle, I'm not sure we'll be able to figure it out without the help of Muggle Authorities," a new female voice responded. "We have a liaison on staff for situations like that."
"Can you get a full toxicology on bodies this decomposed? We're looking for the same hallucinogenic components that were found in the illicit potions' murders," Harry explained.
"We'll do our best, Auror Potter."
The discovery of the bodies only led to a full-scale hunt in the fields. Over two dozen Aurors Apparated in to search for more gravesites. They found none. Ron stayed close to Harry, the two of them keeping their eyes peeled and their wands out. Nearly an hour into their search, Ron and Harry both had the sudden urge to stop their hunt. They both looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and called it a day.
Maybe if they both thought more about it, Harry never would have been taken.
One Week and Five Days Prior
Ron tapped his fingers on his thigh. He stared at the front of the room, watching as Harry and Sutton talked in low tones and fiddled with slides. It wasn't often Harry presented something without him at work. It was rather nice to sit back and watch Harry do the work, but at the same time, Ron thought it was strange not to be up there with him.
A swirl of black shone in his peripheral vision as Demelza took a seat next to him in Harry's usual chair, which made the whole Harry presenting without him thing feel even stranger. She grinned up at him as she brushed her long hair behind her shoulder, and Ron rolled his eyes.
"What's this meeting about?" Demelza asked.
"Don't ask me."
"But it's your case," Demelza pointed out. "Why are we all here for the meeting?"
"Sutton insisted it would be good for all of us to have a better understanding of Muggle potions. Harry's assisting because he actually understands this stuff since he grew up in the Muggle world."
Demelza nodded. "Oh, Muggle potions! That will definitely help ruin your solve average! Dreadful, Weasley."
Ron stuck his tongue out at her as Sutton cleared his throat. Harry stood off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest as the room quieted.
"Alright, let's start off by saying the Muggleborns in the room can probably take a nice little nap for the first portion of this presentation, but pay attention you pretentious purebloods. We're going to learn about something called drugs today!" Sutton clapped his hands together, a wide grin on his face.
"What's drugs?" Ron whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
"No idea."
"You're a half-blood! You should know," he hissed under his breath. Harry gave him a pointed look, and Ron turned his attention back to Sutton.
"Think of drugs as Muggle illicit potions," Sutton continued, "except, instead of ingesting them, you either smoke or inject them into your bloodstream with a something called a needle."
With a tap of Sutton's wand, an image of a long and pointy object appeared on the screen. Ron scrunched up his nose at the sight of it.
"Who in their bloody mind would put that in their body?"
Demelza shivered next to him. "Ugh, that gives me the chills just thinking about it!"
Ron cringed several times as the presentation continued, various Muggle drugs explained in depth. Ron felt like his head would fly off his shoulders at all the information being presented. Several of the go-getter and newbie Aurors took notes at lightning speed, their quills flying across the pages of parchments.
When it came to hallucinogenic drugs, Harry took over the presentation. He explained Maisie's description of the potion injected into her bloodstream and talked about the potential of the unidentifiable Muggle component of the toxicology being something called LSD. They were calling in a specialist to confirm their suspicions.
By the time Robards stepped up to claim this case would be all hands-on deck, Ron was trying not to groan. Cases where the department pulled all their resources were chaotic, information slipping through the cracks, and young Aurors often made stupid and reckless mistakes in order to climb the ranks faster. Frankly, it meant Ron more often than not ended up with more work, and that was the last thing he wanted. When the presentation finally finished, Ron sighed in relief as Harry made his way over to him.
"Ready to get our forensic report on the dead bodies?" Harry asked as he loomed over him.
"Oh, I've never been more excited in my life." Ron stood up, wiping his hands on his trousers. "Robins, you're not nearly as much fun as Harry during these presentations."
"Eat dung, Weasley. It was a little embarrassing to sit next to someone who gagged several times during the presentation."
"I did not! You were the one cringing!"
"You were both a little dramatic," Harry interjected, an exasperated look on his face.
Demelza laughed, her head falling backwards. Ron scowled as he followed Harry out of the conference room and down to the forensics offices. Entering the office, Harry lingered back and allowed Ron to approach the front desk. He leaned against the front of the wood and smiled down at the young receptionist.
"Aurors Weasley and Potter. We're here about our unidentified bodies we dropped off a few days ago."
The receptionist pushed her chair away from the desk and whirled around to a filing cabinet behind her. She opened the top drawer and thumbed through the folders before pulling one out. A few moments later, she disappeared into the back.
"Very social in here today." Ron turned around to glance at Harry. "She's your kind of receptionist. Cut the small talk and get down to business."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Who wants to be chatty over dead bodies?"
"We're not chatting over them now. Nobody wants that. I hate when they do that." Ron's face pulled into a grimace. "Do you think they're going to make us look at the bodies again?"
"I'm guessing not since they were pretty decomposed when we found them." Harry shrugged. "What exactly would there be left to look at?"
"I don't bloody well know. Who's the one who always makes us talk over the bodies?"
Harry pushed up his glasses with his right hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lewis."
"Ah, that's right." Ron snapped his fingers. "Merlin, I hope we don't have Lewis."
Harry gave him a sideways look. "Could be worse, could be Walden."
Ron groaned, making Harry chuckle. No one was worse than Walden. He spent half the time chatting up over the bodies, making terrible puns and tasteless jokes. Getting any actual information out of him was like pulling Mandrakes from their pots.
Ron had his wish granted when a tall blonde appeared in the doorway. She motioned for Ron and Harry to follow her. Ron looked over at Harry, nodding in approval.
"Hello, I'm Nola Harrington. I'm the Forensic Spell Specialist who was assigned to your case." She introduced herself as they walked in tandem down the hall and luckily avoided the morgue. "I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting yet."
"Ron Weasley. This is Harry Potter," Ron introduced them. "Were you able to identify our bodies?"
"I was. Let's step into my office. I have folders made out for the both of you."
"Oh, good. It wouldn't be an immersive experience without dead body pictures."
"Thank you for taking the time to put it all together for us," Harry said loudly, shooting Ron an annoyed look.
They entered Harrington's office, and she motioned to a small table in the corner for them to sit. Harry immediately pulled one folder towards him and opened to the front page. Ron looked away quickly as the partly decomposed bodies stared up at them.
"Marigold and Sparrow Zephyr," Harrington announced as she took a seat and opened up her folder. "Marigold is a Muggleborn witch and Sparrow is her Muggle husband. I don't have a lot of information on Sparrow yet. I have an intern hunting down more information on him for you through some Muggle authority contacts. Marigold seems to have disappeared from the magical world after leaving Hogwarts."
"What house was she in?" Ron flipped through the first few pages quickly to get past the autopsy photos.
"Ravenclaw. Excelled in potions and herbology."
"She was good with potions?" Harry looked up, his eyebrows raised.
"I'd say a prodigy, actually." Harrington pulled out a piece of parchment from the folder. "She won several potions accolades while attending Hogwarts."
"Interesting," Harry muttered, his eyes flying across the pages as he read. "They have a son? Sage Zephyr?"
"Yes, I'm sorry I don't have any information on him besides his name."
Ron looked over at Harry and could practically see the wheels turning. Sage Zephyr had just been bumped up to a person of interest, suspect number one. It was the first break in the case. Robins would definitely be eating her words soon enough.
The Morning Harry Disappeared
Ron woke with a stir, his cheek pressing against something hard. He blinked and yawned, his eyes trailing around the tent. The events of the stakeout the previous night washed over him as he stared at Harry's shoes. Bolting up right, Ron realized he had fallen asleep against Harry and had used his shoulder as a pillow. Harry seemed unbothered as he continued to scratch his quill against a piece of parchment.
"Morning, sunshine," Harry greeted. "I forgot how loudly you snore."
Ron wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth, his eyes glancing over to see a small wet spot on Harry's shoulder. He would never live this moment down if George found out. Time to pull out the big wands.
"Yeah, well, I forgot about how you talk in your sleep." Ron stood up, his limbs cracking as he squinted out the small window of the tent to survey the field. "You dream of far more disturbing things now than you did before."
"What could possibly be more disturbing than dreaming about what Voldemort was doing?" Harry looked up from his work, brows furrowed.
"Moaning my sister's name for one."
Harry nodded, his eyes squinting behind his glasses, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. "Considering all of the bad dreams I've had, you can't hold that against me. It's nice to have one of those really good dreams every once in a while. Ginny is definitely dream worthy."
"I hate you."
Harry grinned. "Back at you, mate. I'm telling George you drooled all over my shoulder."
"What happens in the tent, stays in the tent!" Ron wheeled around, his eyes wide. "We are supposed to be best mates!"
"I can't very well leave George out of the loop." Harry stood up, passed Ron, and looked out into the field. "I say we take down the tent, do one more sweep of the field, and then check in at work."
"Can't we just leave the tent and say we lost it? I mean, Robards has to budget for missing Disillusioned stakeout tents in the yearly budget. How many Aurors actually take the time to pack them up and put them back in the storage cupboard?"
"Uh, I'm pretty sure nobody leaves a Disillusioned tent behind. It takes five seconds."
After cleaning up the tent and packing up their gear, Harry and Ron ventured out into the field with their wands out. A layer of dew soaked the bottom of their trousers as they trenched further into the field.
They were near the gravesite when they spotted something in the grass. Harry spotted it first as he picked up his pace. Ron followed him, an outline of a female body becoming clearer. Blood ran down her neck, her body sickening still, and dirt caked her ripped clothes.
A rustling noise came from the right, feet pounding on soil and heavy panting. Ron tore off in that direction, leaving Harry behind to deal with the victim. He clutched his wand in his hand, his arms pumping and long legs helping him cover ground. He saw the man, his greasy salt and peppered ponytail swinging from side to side.
Suddenly, the man disappeared. There was no crack of Disapparition, no sign that any spells had been cast. Ron paused in his stride, an overwhelming need to stop suddenly washing over him. He looked down at the wand in his hand, confusion knitting in his eyebrows. He had the unexpected urge to go home to Hermione and Rose, to leave the area immediately.
Ron blinked, his tongue peeking out to moisten his bottom lip. What had he been doing there? Where was Harry? Ron turned around, the silence of the field unnerving him. That's when he heard it, the distant sounds of a scuffle. He forced his legs to move, running in the direction he had come from despite the feeling that kept telling him he was going the wrong way.
The sight of two bodies wrestling in the field made him move faster as a mop of black hair toppled over the stranger and into the tall grass. Ron's heart skipped a beat as the assailant stood up and loomed over Harry. His wand arm rose in a quick snap, Harry's name escaping his lips before he could help himself. The man wheeled around, and Ron let a Stunner escape his wand.
The man dove to the ground but not before Ron recognized him. Sage Zephyr was clearly more than a person of interest.
Both wizards slashed their wands through the air like swords. The early morning sky lit up with streaks of vibrant colors. Ron dove for the ground and rolled to the left before he popped up quickly, a Disarming Spell catching Zephyr off guard. He hadn't expected this git to have such decent dueling abilities. Zephyr's wand flew through the air and clattered to the ground near Ron's feet, and it only took a second swish before the wizard hit the ground like a ton of bricks.
Satisfied, Ron rushed towards Harry. He fell to his knees and his fingers pressed against his pulse point. It was thready, but there. His eyes glanced up at the woman not far away. Her chest rose and fell just as erratically as Harry's.
"Come on, Harry," he muttered. "If I have to spend the next year regaling us all with tales of how I saved your arse, you'll be sorry."
When Harry still didn't move, he kept his fingers on his friend's pulse as he lifted his arm to cast a Patronus, but something sharp pierced his neck.
"Fuck me," he mumbled as his entire body went cold.
Before he could even think of anything else, he collapsed on his side, his limbs heavy, as a woman stood over him with an empty needle in her fist. Then the woman and the field vanished in a swarm of black dots.
Present Day
"Then, I woke up in this hospital bed," Ron finished his story. "We never thought Zephyr had an accomplice. We thought he was acting alone."
Hermione looked worried, her back straight as a board in the hospital chair and her hands wringing in her lap. Ginny looked murderous. If Ron hadn't known Ginny his entire life, he probably would have peed his pants at the pure look of malice shining in her eyes. Her one hand gripped the back of Hermione's chair, and her fingers of her other hand wrapped around her waist.
"He killed his parents?" Hermione whispered.
"That's Harry's guess." Ron shrugged. "After Hogwarts, Zephyr might as well not exist. There were no records of him anywhere that Harry and I could find. From what we understand, he was a troubled teen who excelled in potions like his mother. An outcast, often got in trouble, reminded me suspiciously of Snape."
"Harry was right." Ginny jutted her chin up. "He thought it was Zephyr from the moment his parents turned up dead."
"Harry's instincts usually are." Ron shrugged. "Harry also kept saying he must be an expert on wards, hiding his little farm from wizards and Muggles alike by driving them away. I think the field is heavily warded, too. It was why we never found the farm, it was why we always had the sudden urge to leave at a certain point near the gravesite. I wandered around that field for ages it seems, and Harry was putting together a proposal to get a team of ward experts to detect and breakdown any spells or enchantments that were hiding the farm."
"Where was he on that proposal? Is the team together?" Ginny pressed.
"He was going to turn it in the morning after our stakeout. He had finished it up right before we entered the field to look around."
"How fast can you put a team together?"
"When can I leave the hospital?" Ron grinned.
"Ron! You've been in a magically induced coma for the past couple of days!" Hermione cried. "Tells Robards everything and someone else can head the team."
Ron pushed the covers aside, ignoring his very concerned wife. She let out a noise in the back of her throat as Ron's bare feet hit the ground. He pushed off the bed, his legs feeling shaky. He gritted his teeth as Hermione rushed to his side to steady him.
"Robards isn't going to send out a team to rescue my best mate without me," Ron grunted as he pushed away the wave of dizziness that tried to claim him.
"You can barely stand!" Hermione protested. "I understand you want to be there for Harry, I truly do, but this is one time you may need to sit out and let the department do this without you."
"No can do, Hermione. Harry wouldn't sit back if our roles were reversed. He'd be demanding some sort of potion to patch him up quick and being a stubborn git about the whole thing." Ron let out a breath of air as the dizziness subsided but his legs still wobbled.
"Don't do this, Ron!" Hermione's eyes pleaded with him, the softness in her voice causing him to look away. "You know how hard it's been for me to sit back and let you two handle these dangerous missions without me. I'm always so terrified you'll get yourselves killed. It's been so hard to reconcile that I can't follow you anymore, that I can't be there to help get you out of trouble. Ron, please, I know you want to be there for him, but this time you can't… you're a liability at this point. You can barely walk. How can you possibly help him?"
Ron ignored his wife and took a small step forward, each step making his legs feel a little bit sturdier. "Hermione, it's going to take a few hours to get together a team. I'll talk to a Healer, I'll get patched up first, and I'll be right as rain to join the mission. I'll go in last if that makes you feel better. I'm not there to make the arrest or get into a wand fight. I'm there to get my best friend out of there, and we both know you'd make the same bloody decision in my shoes."
Hermione pursed her lips, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
Ron gave his wife a triumphant smile before turning to his sister. "Ginny, can you wheel yourself out of here and get my Healer?"
The knowing smirk on her face and the gratitude shining in her eyes only confirmed what he already knew. There was no way in hell he was going to let a team bring Harry home without him. He waited until his sister had left the room before he looked at his wife.
"Hermione, hand me my wand."
I'm back! I hope this chapter was well worth the wait. The reason I was away for so long was, because I gave birth. Unfortunately, I had to have a c-section which made my recovery time a lot longer and put me behind on my writing. I'm back in the full swing of things, though, and hope not to have any more posting interruptions. Please, don't forget to leave me a review! They are needed now more than ever since i need to keep my motivation to write with my personal life being very hectic right now! Reviews inspire me to write and hit my posting goals! Don't forget to follow me on Tumblr (SeriouslySam8) where I posted updates on when I would be updating again and answering your questions.
Special thanks to Bree for helping me with this chapter. She helped me get back into the swing of things and helped my exhausted, sleep deprived writing make more sense.