Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: As the summary notes, this is an Alternate Universe, and a lot of things happened differently without Harry at Hogwarts- and some of those changes will be revealed in this chapter. The female leads make their first appearances as well. Hope you enjoy!

"a dream that you had inside a locked room..."

January 21st, 2003

For once, Harry didn't have to end up waiting for Ron as they headed to St. Mungo's. Apparently, that was where his fiancee worked, one Hermione Granger, and she was who they were meeting that day.

"Hey luv," Ron said as they walked into the morgue section of the magical hospital.

"I am at work, so I would appreciate it if you would be more professional," she replied with a glare.

"Right, right," Ron nodded before turning to Harry. "Let me introduce my partner, Harry Potter."

"A pleasure, Miss Granger."

"To you as well, Mister Potter," she said with a small blush. "I've read about you of course, but it is such a shame that no in depth study was ever done to determine how you survived that night."

Harry snorted. "Maybe it was a miracle."

"I don't believe in miracles, Mister Potter," Granger replied.

He shrugged. "I don't have any insight into what happened all those years ago. I was a little over a year old, so you'll have to pardon my lack of memories about the subject."

"Right, forgive me," she said. "I suppose we should discuss the case you're working on."

"Got anything good for us?" Ron asked.

"I can confirm not just what the coroner had determined, but a few other things as well. Our victim was raped, by a single perpetrator. Cause of death is most likely the killing curse, as there are no external wounds, no signs of poison or any other magic which would have left some trace. The tox screen came back with a few things, but much of it was beyond muggle knowledge. It appears she was dosed with multiple potions, both before and after death."

"Why would someone use a potion on a dead body?" Ron wondered.

"A number of reasons," Harry answered. "To cover up evidence of how or why she was killed. To hide possible poisoning."

"Yes, but I believe in this case it was in part to make sure she remained in a similar state to when she was killed," Hermione cut in. "There is evidence of a sort of stasis potion that seems to have been used to prevent decay."

Harry nodded. "That fits the idea that the body was staged and the killer wanted her found a certain way."

"That is logical," Hermione agreed. "Unfortunately, some of the ingredients used here don't fit any potions I know of. You'll need to talk to an expert."

"Any suggestions?" Harry asked.

"Please, not that bloody prat Sluggy," Ron moaned.

"Horace Slughorn is brilliant, Ronald," Hermione grumbled at him.

"He's also a stuck up git," Ron responded before slumping his shoulders. "Although I will admit he was better than Snape."

Harry snorted. "From what Sirius told me, anyone would have been better than Snape."

"He was an awful bastard," Ron scowled.

"Can we stay on topic, gentlemen?" Hermione raised an eyebrow until Harry agreed with a nod. "With school in session anyway, Professor Slughorn would be busy. I would suggest trying Greengrass apothecary in Diagon Alley."

"Ugh, Greengrass?" Ron rolled his eyes.

"She is very knowledgeable," Hermione added. "In fact, she was the only other person to get an Outstanding on her potions NEWT, and with my work here, she's bound to have stayed more up to date on the topic across a wider variety of potions than I have."

"Fine, fine," Ron raised his hands in defeat. "Potter likes to do the talking anyway, so I'll just let him handle her."

The door opened behind them and a tall, thin black man walked in.

"Ron, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Hey Dean." The two of them shook hands. "We're working a case. I'm here with Harry Potter, my new partner. Harry, this is Dean Thomas. We were in Gryffindor together at Hogwarts."

Harry said hello.

"I'm afraid I asked him to come," Hermione interjected. "I believe I have bad news for you, Dean."

He looked down at the body covered by a sheet.

"Someone I know?" Dean asked in a choked voice. "Is this about Rachel?"

"Your sister?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, she went to France to study for a year," Dean replied. "I talked to her over Christmas on the phone, but she didn't come home. She said she was too busy, and the flight would have been expensive."

"What was she studying?" Harry asked.

"Art history. She said there was so much to learn in Paris that she'd need the whole year."

"Are you ready to do this?" Hermione asked softly. "Take your time-"

"No, let's get it over with," Dean answered.

Hermione pulled back the sheet revealing the dead girl's face.

The gasp and then the sobs were enough to answer the question of who the girl was, even as Dean was unable to speak. Ron had to move quickly to keep him standing while Hermione started rambling out her apologies and condolences.

Harry could relate all too well.

Later that afternoon

"Bloody hell, I wish I didn't have this case now," Ron sighed as they strode down Diagon Alley. "I hope Dean is going to be alright."

"Are you two close friends?"

"We spent seven years sharing a dorm, what do you think?"

Harry snorted. "That could have made you more sick of him."

"Nah, Dean's a good bloke," Ron said. "It's awful that this happened to him."

"It's awful when this happens to most people," Harry replied. "For what it's worth, at least we have a name for our victim and the start of some ideas about what might have happened to her."

"Yeah."

Weasley came to a stop outside one of the many old storefronts lining the main thoroughfare and then waved at the door. "She's all yours."

"I take it there's bad blood here?"

"I wouldn't say that exactly," Ron shrugged. "I didn't know her that well. Of course, from all I heard, not many people did. She was just one of those cold, aloof people. But she's also from one of the old pureblood families, and they've always been too stuck up to associate with people like my family."

"Like the Blacks were," Harry agreed. "From what Sirius told me, they were all a bunch of bastards."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Ron nodded at the building. "So yeah, I'd rather let you handle this one."

"What are partners for?" Harry chuckled as he reached for the door knob.

There was a jingle from a bell that sounded somewhere further inside the building as he entered. It looked similar to the few other stores he'd visited at the alley- packed full of shelves, a little cramped even. The aisles were slightly wider than he had expected from peeking through the window.

The closest shelves held jars full of different ingredients, just the sort of thing one would need if they were headed off to school. Of course, it being the middle of winter, Harry assumed that business was a little slower. And judging by the lack of people he ran into as he headed for the counter, it seemed like he was right.

"Remember to be careful with the thistle, Mrs. Jones," a tall woman said from behind the counter as she handed a small bag to an old woman.

"Of course, dearie," the customer grinned. "How is the family?"

"I'm sure they're all fine."

"You shouldn't work so hard, Daphne."

"Someone has to."

The old woman chuckled as she walked off, and Harry took that opportunity to approach the counter, tapping his glasses as he went. "Are you Miss Greengrass?"

"That's the name on the sign," she replied flatly.

Harry looked her face over carefully- there was a lot hiding right below the surface. Her light brown hair was up in a bun, but he saw a hint of a different, brighter color at the roots. The glamour charms she used were odd though. You wouldn't think a shopkeep would need such a thing. And the fact that they made her plainer and more nondescript was also troubling. As for the eyeglasses perched on the end of her nose, they just made her look more severe.

"I was recommended your help by Hermione Granger."

"Granger," she said. "I haven't seen her in a couple of years. Is she still working at St. Mungo's?"

"Yes. I suppose I should introduce myself as well." He offered his hand. "Auror Harry Potter, at your service."

"Potter, hm?" she raised an eyebrow. "Even I'd heard something about you coming back to England, not that I particularly care about such gossip. What can I do for you?"

"I'm working on a case, and I was told that you were the person to talk to." Harry set his briefcase on the counter in between them. "Would you mind looking at something for me?"

"Alright." She folded her arms and stood back slightly. "What can I help you with?"

"I hope this can remain just between the two of us," he said as he pulled out a copy of the report Granger had given him.

Daphne smirked. "I assure you that I can be very discreet."

Harry smiled at her. "I would appreciate that."

He handed the file over to her. "We're looking at a number of potions that were found in the body of a dead girl."

"A murder?" she inhaled slightly and started scanning the first page.

"It appears so." Harry waited as she flipped to the second page. "You'll note that some of them were given to her post mortem."

"I'll need more information," Daphne said as she finished the second page. "How old was she? Height, weight, that sort of thing. It can make a big difference in both the doses and effects of potions, especially if it was something like a stasis charm, to preserve her for some reason. That is what this looks like anyway."

"Granger was right," Harry replied. "You are sharp."

"Thank you."

"The victim was almost nineteen. Five foot four, roughly one hundred fifteen pounds- give or take due to the circumstances-"

"Of course," she said. "Any known health issues? Allergies?"

"Nothing we're aware of."

"Interesting," Daphne flipped back to the first page and read through it all again.

Harry waited and looked closer at her. She was slender, and her real features that he could see more easily up close were the type of patrician beauty he associated with the upper class. He could see why Weasley didn't like her, and in his own experience, those sorts of people didn't really like Harry either. Unless they wanted to use him in some way.

Her hands were thin too, long slender fingers... and no wedding ring.

That could possibly come in handy someday.

"Definitely a stasis effect," Daphne said as she looked up. "A powerful one too, from what I'm seeing. There is one interesting thing though."

"What?"

She stared right at him and grinned slightly. "It's a good thing you brought this to me. I doubt many people would have caught it otherwise. See this last part here."

Daphne set the paper down and tapped one of the ingredients.

"Eucalyptus?" he asked then looked back up at her.

"Yes, and specifically, this is a strain of plant you won't find here."

"Not even in a personal garden?" Harry asked.

"Possible, but unlikely," she replied. "Maybe if you had a greenhouse very specifically set up for it."

"Where would you find it then?"

"Southern France would be the closest place."

Harry leaned back and sighed. "I should have guessed."

"I'm sorry if that isn't helpful," she said.

"No, it is actually," Harry absent mindedly ran his hand through his hair. "It's just not a good thing if crimes cross into different countries."

Daphne nodded. "I can see how that would make things more complicated."

Harry sighed and put the files away. He clicked the briefcase closed and smiled at her briefly. "Well, thank you for your help today, Miss Greengrass."

"You're welcome," she said as he started to turn away. "Oh, and Mister Potter?"

Harry looked back and she smirked at him before tapping at her glasses. "I hope you can show me a bit of discretion as well."

"Of course," he nodded and grasped the door handle. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Greengrass."

As the door shut behind him, she exhaled.

"Very interesting."

January 26th, 2003

Harry coughed briefly as he stepped through the fireplace, leaving Grimmauld Place and finding himself in a cluttered living room.

"Welcome to the Burrow, mister Potter," a balding middle aged man greeted him with an extended hand. "Arthur Weasley. Ron's told us about you."

"Nice to meet you," Harry grinned. "Hopefully, he hasn't said anything too unflattering."

"Come into the other room," Arthur pulled him along. "It may be a little cramped, especially if the Percy will actually take the day off and join us for once. Molly's been cooking up a storm."

Waiting for them in the next room was a sea of redheads.

"Harry," Ron said as he stood up from his seat and motioned him over. "Everybody, this is my partner."

"Hello," Harry nodded as he sat down.

He noticed Hermione rolling her eyes on the other side of Ron. "Allow me to do a proper introduction since someone couldn't be bothered. You've already met Arthur. The twins across from you are Fred and George. Don't bother asking which is which, you probably won't get a straight answer out of them."

"It's easy to tell us apart," one of them said with a smile. "I'm Fred, and I'm the handsome one."

"You wish," George snorted.

"Remind me, dear brother. Which of us actually has a girlfriend?" Fred snarked at his twin.

"Angie will come around one of these days and dump your ugly mug."

Hermione interrupted and continued. "Next up, across from me is Bill. He's the oldest brother."

"I work at Gringotts," Bill added. "I used to be a curse breaker."

"That's dangerous work," Harry replied. "It looks like you're whole though. Were you any good at it?"

"I like to think so," he shrugged. "I've been back here though, doing a bit more variety of things for them ever since I moved home."

"And I'm Molly," the matriarch of the family said as she floated a large platter with a roast chicken into the middle of the table.

"Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Weasley. This all looks delicious."

"You're quite welcome," she smiled at him. "And please, call me Molly."

"Ron wasn't kidding about how big his family was."

"This isn't even all of us," Fred said. "Percy's always working overtime at the Ministry."

"And Charlie hasn't been home in... what, a couple of years now?" George frowned.

Harry chuckled. "That's a lot of you Weasley boys. I'm not sure how you handled them all, Molly."

"She's got plenty of tricks up her sleeves," Arthur said fondly.

"No Weasley sisters though?" Harry asked.

Silence was his response, making him look up from the potatoes he had scooped onto his plate.

"No... not anymore," Bill stammered out.

Arthur patted his son on the shoulder and turned to Harry. "We had a girl, but she passed some years ago."

"I'm terribly sorry," Harry gulped. "I wouldn't have said anything if I had known."

"It's alright," Arthur said quietly. "I believe we've all known loss at this table."

Harry nodded and went back to paying attention to his food.

Thankfully, the awkward moment passed when the twins started talking about some new item they had created for their joke shop.

The rest of the meal was fairly pleasant. But Harry noticed the slight tension here and there. Bill seemed to have it the worst of all of them. He also slipped away afterwards while the others were chatting and polishing off their desserts.

Harry stepped outside to get a breath of fresh air. It was cold and crisp, but thankfully there was no snow.

The door opened behind him a few minutes later.

"I wish Ron had warned you before," Hermione said as she came over to stand beside him. "Ginny's death hit them all hard."

"I can understand that."

"It... it happened at school, you see," she added. "She was in her first year, and there was something in the school causing people to become petrified. I thought it may have been a basilisk, but after Ginny died, we never found out for certain. There was this old legend about a monster coming from Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, and that's supposedly where it took her. They never found it though, and... well, they had to bury an empty casket."

"How were they sure she died?"

"Molly had this clock," Hermione sighed. "It told where everyone was, and when Ginny's hand pointed to mortal peril, they knew something was terribly wrong. She and Arthur rushed to the school to try to find out what had happened, but no one could find wherever this chamber was. When they finally went home, her hand had fallen off the clock. Ron told me that it's been put away ever since."

"But they never found out exactly what happened?"

"No," Hermione replied. "Someone was writing these messages on the walls whenever there was an attack. The last one, when Ginny disappeared, said that 'her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.' I suppose... she must still be there.

"The whole family was devastated, Bill in particular. He started at Hogwarts just after Ginny was born and he missed most of her childhood because of that. Ron's worried about him- he's been drinking more and more, from what I've heard. I think he thinks that he failed as the big brother since he couldn't protect her. He was working in Egypt at the time, but he's been back here ever since. As for Arthur and Molly, I think they just had to put on a brave face to keep the rest of them from falling apart. Percy turned into a workaholic. Charlie, the brother that wasn't here tonight, barely ever comes home."

"Too many painful memories?" Harry asked.

"Something like that," she nodded. "Fred and George have always been jokers, but I think they try a bit harder to keep everyone upbeat ever since. Just be careful if you ever go to one of their parties. They sometimes end up much more morose when they drink."

"What about Ron?"

"He doesn't like to talk about Ginny," Hermione shook her head. "That's probably why he didn't say anything to warn you. Sometimes, I think he intentionally tries to forget about her, or to put it out of his mind at least. He was only a year ahead of her in school, and it hit him really hard too."

"I take it you've known the Weasleys a long time then?"

"Sort of. Ron and I were in the same class at Hogwarts, but I wouldn't say we were close those first few years. I've learned a lot of this more recently."

"Hm," Harry murmured. "I take it no one ever figured out who was responsible for her death either?"

"No," Hermione replied. "Most fingers were pointed at the Slytherins- the anti-muggleborn sentiment made them the most likely to be behind it but there was never any proof. Ron was convinced that Draco Malfoy had something to do with it, but the two of them always hated each other."

"I've heard of the Malfoys."

"Everyone's heard of the Malfoys," Hermione snorted. "But if you aren't a rich pureblood, you're probably not worth they're notice. Most people are lucky that way; I went to school with Draco for seven years and let me tell you, he was a loathsome little cockroach. I wish that family had been taken down with the rest of the Death Eaters."

Harry chuckled. "You mean you don't believe that it was a coincidence that Lucius-"

"Lucius Malfoy is probably the most dangerous man in the country," she warned. "Unlike his arrogant buffoon of a son, he knows how to do a lot more than strut and preen and throw money around. Be careful if you ever have to deal with him."

"Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary." Harry looked off into the distance and thought of his last day in New York. It wasn't a city he was particularly fond of, but at least he and Sirius had one last good time before he had left. "My godfather had plenty to say about the Malfoys, so I know to be on my guard."

"I must have forgotten that they're related."

"Yeah, and unfortunately, I am too," Harry sighed. "More distantly than Sirius, but all the old pureblood families are related to some degree."

"You have my condolences," Hermione said with a grin. "That is one of the benefits of being a muggleborn, I suppose."

"Lucky you," Harry snorted.

"Thanks." Hermione looked out at the cloudy sky for a moment. "Anyway, I just thought it would be easier if I explained things. You can probably understand why it's harder for them. But you should know, especially if you and Ron are going to be working together from now on."

Harry turned to regard her. "You've got a good heart. I suppose that's why you went into medicine."

"I don't know about all that," she blushed. "I actually got interested when I was a first year."

"Sounds like you've got a story there."

"There was..." she trailed off for a moment, exhaled and started over. "I was unlucky. A troll somehow got into the school, and I was in the bathroom at the time so I didn't hear the announcement or know that I was supposed to head back to Gryffindor tower. Unfortunately for me, the troll found me before any of the teachers could."

"It sounds like you're lucky to be alive then."

"It wasn't luck," Hermione replied. "It was Poppy Pomfrey. She saved my life and became my hero from then on. You wouldn't think a school nurse would be so knowledgeable, but I guess at a school full of magic, you never know what type of emergency you'll run into. I had a punctured lung, several broken ribs, and other assorted injuries, yet she somehow had me good as new within a week. Can you imagine what sort of hospital stay I would have needed in the muggle world?"

"So that's why you decided to study medicine."

"Yes," she nodded. "I just wish there was some way to do more. We could make such a difference in the muggle world, if we were allowed."

"Maybe someday the rules will change." Harry took a deep breath, enjoying the cool air. "I suppose I should go back in and make my farewells. I've got a feeling this week is going to be rather trying at work."

"Good luck with the case, and try to watch out for Ron if you can. I sometimes wish he hadn't passed the auror exams."

Harry nodded. "It's not always the easiest job. And I'll do my best to not get him into any dangerous situations."

"Thank you, Harry."

January 30th, 2003

"What're you reading that for?" Ron laughed as he sat down, back from lunch almost an hour late. "Witch Weekly? What are you a teenage girl now?"

"Research," Harry shrugged. "I want to know more about the magical society here, and this is giving me a perspective that I wouldn't get talking to you or wandering around the ministry."

"I guess, but..." Ron looked at the cover and grimaced. "Ugh, Malfoy. Who's the braindead girl on his arm?"

"Astoria Greengrass," Harry replied with a smirk. "They're apparently courting."

"Poor girl," Ron scoffed. "I guess some people will do anything for money though. You'd think the Greengrasses were already rich enough."

"Her sister didn't seem quite as snobby as I would have expected from old money," Harry said. "Of course, maybe she actually enjoys her job."

"Whatever," Ron rolled his eyes. "Any news on the case?"

"We're still stuck waiting on the French."

"Damn."

"Yeah," Harry shrugged. "I've seen it happen before."

"Really?"

"I was working a case back in the states, and one of the victims had crossed over into Canada. It made the whole thing a jurisdictional nightmare."

"I can imagine." Ron kicked his feet up and relaxed. "So, nothing for us to do this afternoon then? I might try to sneak out of here early if I can. Would you cover for me?"

"We've got another four hours on the clock," Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Come on, mate," Ron pouted. "Be a pal?"

Harry snorted. "Ask me again in an hour if we still have nothing to do."

Ron laughed. "Maybe you're alright after all, Potter."

February 1st, 2003

He appeared in a run down building and could immediately feel the stench of death and misery in the air. It was much worse than he had expected. Something terrible had happened here. That would have to be explored later though, as he had a target already in mind for that late night.

Looking around, it took only a few minutes to find the trapdoor leading down to a tunnel.

The tunnel was cramped and long, but hopefully the journey would be worth it.

By the time he finally climbed up out of the ground, finding himself underneath a huge tree, there were only a couple of pinpricks of light from torches somewhere up in the castle. The moonless night was helpful to him then as he crossed the yard until he found the entrance he'd been told of long ago.

A cloak hid him from the light as he crept up a set of stairs and found the hallway he'd been looking for. The question was where to look next, but that little stretch of hall didn't have any portraits on the walls.

He took the closest door and found himself in a restroom. There was silence. It would have to do.

Pulling a ring from his pocket, he breathed in as he felt the magic take hold.

A young girl appeared before him, dressed in a Hogwarts uniform.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"That's not important. I'm here to find out what happened to you."

"Why?"

"For a couple of reasons. To get closure for your family and justice for your death."

"It all started when Lucius Malfoy slipped what looked like an empty diary into my school books..."