I wrote this 10,000 word monstrosity of a chapter on my phone. It's a long one so thanks for sticking through and reading! The reviews have been lovely!
"You want me to take your girlfriend out?"
"Just for dinner. I need you to help ease her into the magical stuff. You grew up with Muggles so it should be a cake walk."
George had a grin that would melt the heart of even a Dementor. If it had been anyone else Harry would have bent his spine in half to appease that look. George Weasley on the other hand….
"You're scheming up something, aren't you?"
"Who me? Never! Come on, Harry please? It's just one dinner."
Earlier that afternoon Harry had paid George a visit with Ron at his shoulder. They had meant to corner him into telling them about his Muggle girlfriend and her strange profession. Instead, they ended up drinking an entire bottle of George's best firewhiskey. By evening Ron was unconscious on the couch while Harry and George were trying to sober up in the kitchen of his flat, splitting a pizza and a pitcher of water.
"I don't know. I haven't had to talk to a Muggle in months." Harry stuffed a mouthful of crust down his gullet.
"It will be easy! Just take things in baby steps. Tell her about Quidditch and Hogwarts but skip the stuff about your parents and the War."
He considered it for moment. George was right, Alice would need to be introduced to everything slowly. He just wasn't sure he was the best candidate for the job.
"Why don't you let her meet Hermione instead? She's had a better upbringing with the Muggles than me. I'll probably screw it up in the first five minutes and tell her I can talk to snakes or something."
George grimaced between his chews. "Hermione's annoying. I'd prefer not to scare her away with the most swotty witch there is. The last thing she needs is to be lectured to death about the entire history of the magical world."
"I suppose." He pulled a single mushroom off the pie to eat on its own. "But it feels like, I don't know, like I'm dating her."
His concern was met with a loud guffaw that had George almost falling out of his chair and Ron shouting something incomprehensible from the room over.
"Bloody hell!" George wiped a tear from his eye. "Mate, you're not taking any girls out on a date any time soon. Sorry, friend, but you're still too madly in love with my sister for that."
Harry meant to scold him but ended up just swallowing the pizza in silence and shrugging. The man was right after all. It would be forever before he got over Ginny.
"Just promise me we can have her meet Hermione later. I'll need back up."
"Fine. I have to work all day anyways. We can meet up later at Sunday dinner at Hermione's."
"That's tomorrow isn't it?" The group of them had an informal dinner party every other Sunday at Hermione's house since she had the largest dining room. Although Grimmauld Place's eating area wasn't much smaller, Harry figured that folks preferred Hermione's charming tudor in the suburbs over the crumbling Black household. "You don't think meeting all of us at once will be too overwhelming for Alice?"
"Nah. It's just you, Hermione, and I. I doubt Ron and Ginny will be showing up and Longbottom hasn't been by in ages."
"Right." Harry frowned. "Are you sure about this? You've only been dating her for a week."
"Just take her to lunch, Potter. It's not the end of the world."
It turned out that having lunch with Alice Roberts was much more bland than he would have originally believed. She was an intelligent person, to be sure, but very dry. She discussed British politics for nearly an hour while they snacked on sandwiches and crisps at a busy cafe. Besides her looks, Harry didn't get what George saw in her. She was a little boring, to be frank, and way too involved in local government. When he admitted he hadn't voted in the past election she became almost militant.
"If you don't vote you can't do anything to fix the future when our entire government goes to shit!" She snapped. "Please tell me you at least are registered."
When he shook his head she gave a loud huff and crossed her arms.
"We have a different governmental system in the wizarding world." Harry explained. "It would be foolish to vote for Muggle politics when they don't affect us at all."
That intrigued her. Soon he was drowned with questions about the inner workings of the government in Wizarding Britain. They ended up staying at the cafe for another three hours while Harry tried his best to decode it all for her. After a while it became refreshing. He couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to someone who didn't know anything about, well, anything. And since Alice didn't know his history she wasn't seeing him as an epic war hero or a pity worthy orphan.
For once in his life he could talk with a new person like anyone else could.
They ended up taking the bus to Hermione's, seeing that he couldn't Floo her there and Apparating a Muggle was deadly. When they arrived on her doorstep, Hermione was not only shocked that Harry had brought a guest with him, but she was reluctant to let them in.
"Can't we have dinner at your place this time?" She grumbled, opening the door just enough to put her head out. "The house is a mess and I wasn't really...um...I wasn't expecting company today."
That was different. Hermione wasn't one to forget a standing invitation. Alice glanced between the two of them in concern.
"If this is because I'm here…."
"Don't be ridiculous!" Harry stopped her. "Hermione loves meeting new people."
If he thought that manners would make her let them in he was sorely wrong.
"I can't let strangers into my house, Harry! Not today!"
"Why?" He puzzled his friend's sudden iciness.
"Is it because I'm a Moogle?"
Hermione froze. "What?" She gaped at the other woman for a second before giving Harry a quizzical look.
"This is Alice Roberts, Hermione, she's dating George."
His bushy haired friend finally opened the front door enough to let them into the foyer.
"George is dating?!"
"Trust me, you're as shocked as the rest of us. George is at the shop still but he should be here soon. I'm sort of babysitting Alice, you know, showing her the ropes."
She grudgingly herded them into her dining room, which was spotless. Why she had told them the house was a mess baffled him.
"Sit down." Hermione commanded them. "I'll put a kettle on."
Alice casually plopped herself down at the head of the table while Hermione made herself busy in the kitchen.
"Sorry about that." Harry grumbled to her as he also sat down. "I don't know what's gotten into her."
Alice shrugged. "You said you went to school with her?"
"Yes. We've all known each other since we were about eleven. Hermione and I were in the same year. Ron's our age too. He's my best mate and George's little brother. You'll probably meet him soon."
"And you dated the sister, right?" The Muggle continued. "She left you after you asked her to move in with you?"
Harry blinked. "Uh, yes."
Dammit, George, did you have to tell her THAT!?
"And Hermione dated Ron. Seems like an awful close knit group. Thankfully I no longer spend time with folks I went to school with at eleven. I can't imagine dating my schoolgirl crush. Is it common for wizards and witches to acquire long term relationships at such a young age? "
"Uh…"
"Although, I see in your case it didn't work out."
Harry grimaced at her frankness and blessed the gods and Merlin alike that George chose to enter the room at that moment.
"Hello, tossers!" The man sang upon entrance. He gave Alice a sugary chaste kiss on the cheek before depositing himself at the table. "Did you have a nice lunch?"
"It was delightful. Harry is very well spoken."
George and Harry both smirked at her description.
"Don't think I've ever gotten that compliment before." Harry mused.
"You can add it to your long list of good traits." George suggested. He kicked off his shoes and draped his feet on the table in an elegant but disheveled air that reminded Harry a bit of Sirius. "I brought booze." He announced while depositing a handle of scotch on the table. Harry gave an annoyed groan.
"Didn't we drink enough last night?" He quipped. "I'm getting a headache just thinking about alcohol."
"You spend too much time with Ron." George waved off Harry's complaints. "Hey, Hermione! Bring in some glasses, won't you?"
Hermione was not amused by the addition of hard liquor to the party. She offered them each a mug of tea, slamming the last one in front of George hard enough to splash a bit of the hot beverage in his face.
"George Weasley, you will not be getting drunk in my house!"
"Aw come on, Hermione, where's the fun in that?"
"I thought we were doing this to get to know your girlfriend. You're not putting your best impression on by getting sloshed in front of her." Hermione glanced at Alice who merely shrugged.
"It wouldn't be the first time it happened." Alice commented. Then, to everyone's surprise, she opened the bottle of scotch with one hand and dumped two fingers of it into her tea.
"The first time he's been drunk in front of you or the first time for a boyfriend in general to do so?" Hermione said, no attempt at trying to hide her judgement.
"Both." Alice answered the question before taking a gulp of her spiked tea. "George got smashed the first night we went out."
"I did not!"
"You had four beers. And I believe every man I've dated in the past five years or so has gotten thoroughly plastered in my presence. Keep in mind that my job title comes with a tendency for heavy drinking. I have also been plagued with dating coworkers mostly which has resulted in double the amount of liquor consumption."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "So, you're a barmaid? Did you meet her at a pub, George?"
George looked ready to smack Hermione upside the head with his teacup but Alice beat him to it with her response.
"No, I'm a detective for the London Police. I promise you, we drink far more than any pub workers."
Hermione froze. She gave a slight nod of being impressed before taking a seat next to Alice. "A detective? Really?"
"It's not the easiest profession to hold." Alice admitted. "Hence the drinking."
"So, exactly how did you two meet?" Hermione plodded on with her interview.
"Well, I met George's father first due to…."
"It's not important!" George hastily interrupted Alice before she could continue with the awkward story of how the two of them met.
"I disagree." Alice blandly stated in a monochromatic tone. "Our first meeting was…"
"NOT IMPORTANT!" He snapped.
Harry startled a bit and almost spilled his tea while Hermione glared at George threateningly. Alice, however, sipped her drink and nodded like her boyfriend had simply commented on her nail polish instead of yelling at her.
"Right." Harry tried to clear the cloud of unease that had settled around the dining table. "Are we planning on getting Italian take away again? If so, there's a wizard owned place I know that I could Apparate to." His question was met with silent shrugs, so he assumed the answer was yes. "George, you should come with me, yeah?"
It seemed like a good way to get the man out before things got worse, but George didn't take Harry up on his offer. It appeared he wanted things to get worse.
"And leave Alice alone with Hermione?" An impish gleam graced his eyes. "I think that would be unwise."
"Oh?" Hermione crossed her arms and leaned toward the red head. "Are you worried she'll tell me how you met? Something to do with your father?"
"THAT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!"
"Stop yelling, please." Hermione glanced behind her in concern at the door to the rest of the house.
"I'LL YELL AS MUCH AS I WANT!"
"George, be quiet." Alice settled her hand on his shoulder. "We've all had a rough week and Hermione clearly has someone staying upstairs. From her body language, I would guess that they are sleeping and she doesn't want to wake them up."
Hermione's face flushed, proving that the detective was right. George's expression morphed from anger to glee as he focused on the bushy haired witch's derailment.
"You have a guest, Hermione? Why didn't you say so?" He removed his feet from the table and stood. "You don't mind if I go introduce myself?" He walked toward the door.
"Oh no you don't!" Hermione rose to block him, unaware that her sudden protectiveness just spurred him on.
"Someone that important?" George tried to push past her. "A new beau?"
"What!? No! Of course not! It's my…" Hermione tried to fumble for an explanation while keeping herself between George and the stairway. "my great uncle, uh, Bob. He's sick."
"Bob?" George shared a mischievous grin with Harry. It was pretty easy to tell when Hermione was lying. Especially when she was caught off guard.
"I thought you obliviated your entire family?" Harry commented. He didn't necessarily want George to dash upstairs but he was curious. Hermione was acting awful strange.
"Uh, no. Um, Uncle Bob isn't really related to me by blood so I didn't need to….GEORGE, NO!"
Before anyone could stop him, George made a run for the kitchen which had a second entrance to the hall. Harry and Alice were out of their chairs and along with Hermione had followed George up the front staircase.
The redhead barely made it down the upstairs hallway before a loud cracking sound exploded across the house and George was thrown backwards down the stairs. He crashed into Hermione, the first one to have followed him, and they both somersaulted to the first floor, catching Harry in their tumbling collapse onto the wooden floorboards. A communal groan of pain emerged from all three of them as Harry tried to detangle himself from the heap they had created on the ground.
"What was that?!" Alice shot an inquisitive look up the staircase. She gracefully stepped over the pile to get a closer look.
A tall figure emerged from the upper floor. In the darkness of the stairwell Harry squinted to try to identify what must have been Hermione's mystery visitor.
"Granger, your dinner guests are atrocious."
Harry recognized his voice before he saw his face. The Slytherin wore a black stocking hat to cover his unique hair. Still, his pointed face was just as noticeable.
"Wow, Uncle Bob, you look exactly like Malfoy." George said cheerily while shoving Hermione off of him so he could stand.
"Shut your mouth, Weasley!" Malfoy glowered down the stairs.
"You sound just like him too. You know, you look pretty young to be Hermione's great uncle."
"Hermione," Harry rubbed his hip which was starting to swell after he had crushed his pelvis into the ground thirty seconds ago, "why is he here?" He tried to keep his voice low and calm. It didn't bode well to get aggressive with a Death Eater standing over them with his wand drawn. Not that Harry was very threatening from his crouched position on the floor, but it didn't take an Auror to see that even with his jovial tone, George was also reaching for his wand.
Hermione looked frantic. She pushed Alice behind her and made a reach for George's arm.
"He's been ill. I've been letting him stay here for a bit while he regains his strength." She turned to Malfoy. "Merlin, Draco, put your wand away! No one's attacking you!"
Malfoy didn't listen to her. He descended towards George with his wand arm at his side; not raising it but still keeping his options open.
Unfortunately, George saw this as a threat and had his wand pointed at Malfoy's throat the moment the man was in reach.
Three things happened at the same time: Harry stood to pull out his own wand, Hermione screamed, and Malfoy stunned George. When the twin's form crumbled at the base of the stairs, Alice rushed forward silently but Harry stopped her with his arm outstretched.
"He's fine." He growled at the Muggle girl before turning to speak to the Death Eater. "You better have a good explanation for this."
Malfoy had turned a solid green. His mouth twitched slightly and it looked like he was fighting his eyeballs from rolling back into his skull. Harry started to lift his wand.
"Stop!" Hermione grabbed Harry's shoulder so fast and so rough that he turned his wand on her instead of Malfoy. She released him immediately at his movement and Harry apologized strongly.
"Fuck, Hermione, I am so sorry! You scared me and I didn't…."
"That's enough." She took a deep long breath and closed her eyes. "Right then, let's start over. Everyone put their wands away. I'll wake George up while the rest of you go back to the dining room. I think we need to just take a moment and talk this through."
Malfoy seemed to break out of his trance and started to argue with her but Hermione quieted him with a look. "You too, Malfoy. Go sit down with Harry. I made tea."
Shockingly that simple command worked. They marched to the dining room like ducklings while Hermione cast a quick charm to bring George back to consciousness. Harry, Malfoy and Alice were barely settled at the table when they heard the twin bellow from the hall.
"You're letting him live here!?"
There was a muffled answer in Hermione's tone that was further drowned out as George stomped back into the dining room without her.
This time he didn't lash out at Malfoy. Instead, George harrumphed, returned to his chair, put his feet on the table again and poured an impressive amount of whiskey into his mug.
Malfoy watched them all closely. His gaze lingered a minute on Alice, the only one of them willing to sit near him, but he kept most of his attention on George's wand which stuck out of the Weasley twin's back pants pocket.
It had been years since Harry had seen his former school nemesis. Malfoy looked to have gained some stamina since his sickly appearance during the War, but the man didn't have the boisterous glow that permeated most Quidditch stars. Even though he held himself up with the same pompous privilege that Harry remembered, there was something off about his posture.
"Are you wearing sweatpants?" Harry smirked. Probably not the best thing to say to someone you last spoke to in battle.
Malfoy almost growled at him. "I had to purchase a new wardrobe recently and the shops nearby are not equipped with my preferred clothing."
Harry puzzled over Malfoy's navy sweatpants, Muggle university tee shirt, and black knit cap.
"Alright, I'm stumped." He faced Hermione who had returned from the kitchen with one more cup of tea. "Explain."
She glanced at Malfoy nervously from her seat across from him, clearly waiting for his permission to talk. After a moment of mulling it over, the blonde gave a surrendering sigh.
"Go ahead." He muttered. "Might as well tell them everything. I doubt Potter and Weasley will be having tea with my parents anytime soon, but just to be safe," he pointed at Harry and George, "you have to promise you won't tell anyone."
"Tell anyone what?" George pulled his legs down so he could lean forward over the wooden table to face the Slytherin. "That you're a prick who attacked me for no reason."
"You ambushed me! I had no warning that you would come hurdling down the hall!"
Harry spoke before the two men started throwing punches. "So, you ran away from home to shack up with Hermione and you don't want anyone to know about it."
Malfoy snarled at him while Hermione popped in with her view.
"As you probably know, Malfoy was missing for a while. Since no one realized he wasn't showing up for Quidditch practice, he ended up trapped in a Muggle hospital for five weeks. Theodore Nott just recently figured out where he was and I had to get him out of the hospital. He's been staying with me until he's well enough to fly again."
"He was missing?" George raised a curious eyebrow while Harry nodded.
"We heard about it a week ago in the Auror department." Harry recalled his time in the bomb shelter with Theodore Nott and Malfoy's father throwing a hissy fit because Robards wasn't trying hard enough to find his son. "You do realize the magnitude of what you're doing, don't you?" He asked. "Keeping him here without anyone knowing about it?"
Hermione frowned. "It was his choice."
George looked perplexed. "Hang on, how do you get trapped in a Muggle hospital?"
"Same as any other hospital." Hermione answered. "If you're injured enough you can't leave."
"Injured how so?" George scanned Malfoy over with his eyes. "He looks fine to me."
A long quiet smothered the room as Malfoy and Hermione shared a look. Whatever happened to him had to have been pretty serious. They hovered over the topic, considering whether to share the grim details or not. After forever, Hermione eventually talked.
"He fell off his broom."
George laughed loudly and Harry snorted some of the tea he had been drinking back into his cup.
"He's an international Quidditch star!" He managed to cough out after putting his cup down. He had been expecting something along the lines of what had happened to Nott the other day, but falling off his broom?
George clomped Harry on the back with his fist while he sputtered down another cough.
"How far did he fall?" This came from Alice who had been quietly sipping her drink throughout the entire ordeal.
"And who the hell are you!?" Malfoy snapped at the woman. He was a bit flustered from George and Harry laughing at him.
Alice gave him a big dimply smile that had Malfoy grinning stupidly with a blush on his cheeks. Harry supposed even Death Eaters had weaknesses for pretty faces and big eyelashes.
"Alice Roberts." She offered him her hand and Malfoy raised it to his lips to kiss. Harry heard Hermione scoff while George started giggling madly.
"Draco Malfoy." He calmly introduced himself. "I don't remember seeing you at Hogwarts. Did you go to Beauxbatons?"
"She's a Muggle, Malfoy." Hermione said, quite a bit louder than she needed to.
Immediately, the Death Eater dropped the Muggle's hand as though she had just handed him a palm full of dog crap. His face contorted into a grimace but he didn't leave the table nor did he scoot his chair away from Alice.
"First Muggle you've ever met?" George waggled his eyebrows.
"Are you deaf, Weasley? I was in one of their hospitals for weeks."
George chuckled. "Because you fell off your broom. Right. And since you still can't fly because of your drastic injury, you're stuck staying here to escape from daddy and mummy."
"It's more complicated than that." Malfoy took a long gulp from the teacup in front of him.
"Really? I'm failing to see why."
A twitch shifted through Malfoy's body. Something snapped his already stressed composure.
"I suppose you wouldn't. You probably haven't shared many moments with my parents but I'm certain if you had been in my place you would've done the same."
Malfoy Senior was no saint, Harry was sure, but if the demonstration during the Ministry lockdown had shown him anything it was that the man certainly cared about his son. The small interaction Harry had shared with Narcissa during the final battle had elevated the woman to an outstanding status far above her psychopathic sister.
"After everything they've been through don't you think your parents deserve to know that you're alive at least?" Harry reasoned.
"I'll let you have that one, Potter, since you wouldn't know the first thing about having parents."
George and Hermione both visibly prickled at that comment while Harry felt his insides get cold.
"What happened to your parents, Harry?" Alice asked matter of factly.
"Okay, who is this Muggle and why do you have her over for dinner if she obviously doesn't know anything?"
"Shut up, Malfoy!" George looked ready to fight again.
"She's dating George." Harry answered. "And we're supposed to be getting her acquainted with the magical world not scaring her away."
"Ah, so no harrowing tales about Potter's folks, I see. Let's stop talking about mine as well, please."
"Why!?" Alice scrunched up her face in frustration. "What happened to Harry's parents?"
"Baby steps." George warned her. "Did Harry tell you about Quidditch yet?"
Finally they were able to gear the evening into something more pleasant. Withholding Hermione, they all began colorfully describing the ins and outs of the best sport in the world. Alice kept up well although she didn't believe half the things they told her.
"You can't possibly catch a walnut sized ball while flying a broomstick at fifty kilometers per hour." She grinned. "A ball with wings!"
"It's really rather dumb." Hermione was getting more brash as the night wore on. They still hadn't eaten anything yet and George had kept the liquor flowing. "Quidditch is far too dangerous." She continued. "George and Harry make it look like Draco's fall was nothing but they have both suffered serious injuries as well thanks to that dreadful game."
"Not me!" George beamed. "I never got more than a few scratches. Harry's the one with the death wish."
Malfoy snorted. "I agree. Potter has almost died several times on the pitch."
"Hey!" Harry's cheeks had gotten hot thanks to the beverages and the comments. "It's not like I chose to be thrown off my broom!"
"No, you were just cast an unlucky go of things." George commiserated. "Not that my lot has been much better, but at least I didn't have Professor Quirrell or Dementors out to get me."
Harry glowered at him. "And you didn't have your name tossed into the Goblet of Fire!"
"Ah yes, the Quadwizard Tournament." George snorted. "Harry had to outsmart a dragon once." He told Alice. "Talk about dangerous games. But you have to admit that it ended pretty well. Ten thousand galleons isn't anything to sneeze at."
"Dragons are real?!"
"I gave the galleons to you!" Harry plowed past Alice's sudden epiphany. "And that event ended terribly if I recall correctly." Harry snapped. "You remember Cedric, don't you, Georgie?"
George looked affronted. "Of course I do!" He took a long swig from his cup. "Poor bloke. He didn't deserve to go that way."
"None of them did." Malfoy chimed in. "Diggory was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He may have made it if it wasn't for that fucking portkey."
"Tell me about it." Harry grumbled.
"Okay, we are not continuing down this road." Hermione moved to take the bottle off the table but George plucked it away from her and out of reach.
"I know!" A smile blossomed over his features. "Let's play a game!"
"I don't think that's.."
"It's called the "Get Hermione drunk so she tells us stories about how the Muggles have it worse than we do" game!"
"No!" Hermione paled considerably.
"Come on! Alice can help you and Malfoy's never played before."
"This doesn't really sound like a game." Malfoy looked intrigued. "What kind of stories?" He gave Hermione a deep look that made her go even paler. George poured another ounce into her cup.
"This one time she told us about some wretched disease that Muggles give to each other through bodily fluids. Uh, what was it called, spades?"
"AIDs." Hermione corrected him. "And we're not talking about it."
Harry grinned at George. He recalled the drunken night Hermione had ranted on about Hogwarts' lack of sexual education. She had gone on about HIV and other STDs for a good two hours in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron, furious that none of them knew enough about it.
"You lectured us forever. Ron was terrified. He wouldn't use a public toilet for weeks after that." Harry told her.
"Ridiculous." Hermione mumbled. "You can't get AIDs from a toilet."
"Well, technically you could." Alice said hypothetically. "If there was blood or semen on the toilet seat and it came into contact with an open wound within the incubation time..."
"WHAT!?" Malfoy looked at her in horror. "What are you talking about?!"
Alice and Hermione launched into full out instructor mode and painfully described the horrors of the HIV virus. It ended with Malfoy looking like the world was about to collapse and George refilling Hermione's drink for the third time.
"It's like the bubonic plague!" Malfoy had his fists up against his mouth and was scrunched into a ball against the back of his chair. "I thought it was a myth pureblood mothers made up to scare us into washing our hands when we were little."
Hermione groaned. "That is so wrong on so many levels."
Malfoy nodded in agreement. "It's where the mudblood idea came from. Supposedly the wizarding community was able to survive the plague simply because we wash our hands before eating and after using the toilet. Muggles don't have soap, so they remained filthy and a third of them perished from the Black Death."
Hermione looked ready to snap his neck. "You do realize that was over five hundred years ago?! Although your argument is somewhat true, Muggles have been using soap for centuries! Their hygiene is far better than anything your pureblood brethren has."
"I know that now!" Malfoy yelled. "I was made well aware of the Muggles' insane obsession with hygiene after staying at the hospital. They use gloves constantly and wash the floors and surfaces with astringent toxins."
Harry had to laugh at that. The contrast between the care Malfoy had been used to at the school infirmary and the sterile Muggle hospital had to have killed the man. In hindsight, it really wasn't that funny, but considering Malfoy's discomfort for some reason was entertaining. George also seemed to be enjoying it.
"Oooh, Hermione, tell him about the war they had in the trenches. The one where everyone's feet kept rotting off." He sang.
"NO!"
"Or the story about the sex slave trafficking."
"The what!?" Malfoy looked to be trapped in the fetal position.
"Or better yet, the one where that entire city in Japan blew up. That's a good one. Gave me nightmares for months."
Hermione gaped at George. "If I didn't know better I would think you enjoyed talking about other people's catastrophes!"
George shrugged and drained his mug. "Sort of. It just puts things into perspective. My life doesn't seem so grim when I look at the big picture." He reached for Malfoy's cup to give the man another few swallows of liquor. "Malfoy probably needs to hear that more than the rest of us."
The Slytherin watched the ginger hand him back his drink. He considered George's comment and glanced at Harry before tipping the cup back against his mouth. "I definitely don't want to play that game." He declared.
"What game?" Harry asked.
"The 'who has the worst life' game. As Weasley so elegantly mentioned, I would most likely win."
Harry trembled with a tornado of rage. "Why, because you can't play Quidditch for a bit and you're not talking to your loving parents who would turn the sky over to find you?" He threw at him.
Malfoy set his cup down slowly. He didn't make eye contact with any of them as he started to talk. "The last time I spoke with my father was the day we came back from trial." He stirred his tea with a spoon. "It had maybe been three hours, maybe four, and we had decided it would be best to start cleaning out the Manor; better to get it done with as fast as possible. We didn't have any more house elves or servants after what happened so the cleaning had to be done by us." He paused, shuddered, took a sip of tea and continued on with his story. "I completely broke down on the cellar staircase while trying to scourgify Lovegood's blood out of the marble floor tiles. My father found me sobbing there." Malfoy glanced at Harry coldly. "Do you know what he said to me? He watched me bawl my eyes out after all that had happened. After watching the Dark Lord torture people to death at the dinner table, after that giant snake ate a Muggle girl in the yard, after seeing Dumbledore die because I let them into Hogwarts through that horrid cabinet, and after everything everything my aunt did, do you know what he said to me? He said: 'Stop crying, Draco, you look pathetic. This was nothing compared to the first war. Get over it.'"
The heat that had flushed Harry's cheeks earlier was gone. A stubborn icy gut clenching sickness had entered his belly. Hermione and George looked to be having a similar reaction to Malfoy's story.
"I left that evening without saying goodbye." Malfoy continued. "Try outs for Quidditch were soon after that and in the meantime I stayed at a hotel. My parents owled me everyday, sometimes more than once, but after a few weeks of no responses they seemed to get the hint. I still get presents from them on my birthday and Christmas but I never open them." He frowned. "I was angry already that they had the idiocy to get pregnant during the War. They had a baby a month before the final battle!" He sneered. "On top of that they left the child alone to get to Hogwarts to fight. My father's need to scold me after we had barely escaped being sent to Azkaban for life was just the cherry on the miserable poisonous cake." Malfoy sighed and wiped a stray tear from his face with the heel of his palm. Noticing the droplets, he tried to leave the table with some of his dignity. "Well, this has been fun. Lovely seeing you all again."
He was shakily trying to get his feet beneath him when Alice stopped him.
"I'm clearly missing something huge here. Could we back up to the part with the giant snake and the torturing?"
Malfoy graced the woman with an apologetic look. It seemed his goal had not been to terrify the Muggle in the room. Harry glanced nervously at George, wondering where to start.
"I don't think that's a good idea." George patronized her. "Baby steps, remember."
For the first time that day Alice showed a bright spark of emotion. Instead of vocally ousting her temper, she clawed apart a backpack she had brought with her, revealing a large photo album.
"Do you want me to be successful in my investigation?" She berated her boyfriend. "The more we dive into this the more it seems you want me to stay in the dark." The way she stared at George would have burned a crater into a stone wall. "Mr. Malfoy, please stay a minute. I need to ask you a few questions."
She flipped the book open to the first page of photographs and pushed the album into Malfoy's hands. "Sorry, it's a bit graphic, but I need you to tell me if any of these deceased individuals look familiar to you."
"What!?" Hermione squeaked.
"I'll need you and Harry to do the same when Mr. Malfoy is finished." Alice's voice had returned to it's regular glum drawl.
Malfoy's expression got worse and worse as he flipped through the pages. He looked ready to vomit his esophagus out.
"This is," The blonde swallowed and pointed to an image in front of him, "this is his brother." His eyes flickered over to George.
"Yes, Fred Weasley was one of the victims we found."
George's posture stiffened and Harry instinctively put a hand around his friend's shoulder for comfort. He knew Alice's investigation would eventually need to be aired but that didn't make it any easier to listen to.
"What do you mean, victims?" Hermione eyed the other woman nervously.
Alice told them a long explanation about the mysterious bodies that were cropping up all over London. She described how all of them died nearly two years ago but were still in pristine condition.
"We've had many other victims with similar characteristics. Unknown deaths like these have been occurring forever but there was a massive increase starting in the mid nineteen seventies. I'd estimate nearly eleven thousand."
"ELEVEN THOUSAND!" Hermione looked like ash.
"That is correct." Alice seemed a tad annoyed at the witch's interruption. "They stopped completely for about thirteen years until an entire village in northern England was slaughtered in the summer of ninety five. Again, they showed no sign of violence; almost as though they had been frightened to death. In that instance we were able to identify the victims as we have the majority of the time. This is not the case for the few pictured here as well as about two hundred others. I know now that the unnamed victims are from the wizarding community. What I can't seem to get through is what happened to them and why are these thirteen being exhumed from two years ago."
A deep silence penetrated the dining room as Malfoy continued to page through the photos. Harry had never considered the drastic amount of Muggles that had been murdered during the wars. He had thought a few hundred but never in the thousands! Of course the police would notice a pattern.
Alice crossed her arms. "We've been wrestling with this mystery for years. I was hoping that this time I might get some answers." Her eyes glittered under her rectangular glasses with frustration and anger. "Last time I tried to interview a wizard about the details, at least I think he was a wizard, I woke up in my bed a week later with no recollection of how I had gotten there. The only way I knew that a week had passed was when I checked my mailbox and found a week's worth of newspapers crammed into it. Five months later, a strange woman agreed to give me the name of one of the dead gentlemen we found in the underground. On that evening I remember leaving my office to meet with her but I don't remember anything else. My boss claimed he discovered me asleep on the curb the following morning. It wouldn't be the last time I felt that I had lost a day or two of my life. I used to believe I was being drugged by mafia members but now..."
"Your memories were altered." George said sadly. "Alice, I am so sorry. I promise I won't let that happen to you again."
She huffed. "It doesn't appear that you are the one who controls that. Even if I don't know why I do know that whatever this is, it's big. So big that your people don't want any of the families of those eleven thousand to know what happened to their loved ones. Now you're all sitting here trying to protect me from whatever knowledge you have on this war, or wars, thinking that I'd be better off not knowing."
"You would be." Malfoy didn't look up from the book while he talked. "It's one thing telling you and only you but if that many Muggles found out about the magical community and how their family members were killed by it, we would have another war to deal with." He flipped through the photos one last time. "But for your own sanity, I heed you, don't dig into this. "
"You recognize someone don't you?" She asked him as if to completely sidetrack his warning. Malfoy sighed and nodded.
"Well?" She pushed him.
"This man. I knew him." He pointed out a grey haired individual with a long braided beard. "Lars Plim. He was a Snatcher. I believe he was Scottish."
"What do you mean by Snatcher?"
Again, no one wanted to answer her questions. Harry wondered where they would even start.
"I don't know…" Malfoy started.
"Think of kidnappers but for a deranged madman who's also a racist dictator." Hermione put in.
"I think 'dictator' is giving him more credit than necessary." George admitted. "I'd call him more of an insane militia leader with a snake obsession."
"Sorry, of whom are we speaking?"
Harry sighed. "Should we start from the beginning?" The others nodded in agreement. "Right, Alice, what has George told you about blood status?"
It turned out George had told her nothing. She had picked up on the rift between Muggles and wizards simply from the conversations she had heard that night. She even understood that it was a battle that had been raging for generations, bringing in a recognition of the Salem Witch Trials in the States and fables like Joan of Arc. When they started describing Voldemort in more detail, she started comparing the maniac to Hitler.
"It doesn't seem like Voldemort would have the brilliance and the full scale power to kill millions or completely take over Europe, but I can see the starting of the threat he could have been. Especially being immortal."
"Wait, what do you mean, millions?" George paused her. Hermione shot him a long pale glare. "Is this another nasty part of Muggle history we should know about?"
Like a dog switching from kibble to table scraps, Alice jumped from murdering wizards to Nazi Germany in half a second. It was like she was comparing two lab research specimens in an educational debate. The sheer blandness she put into the discussion made Harry believe she wasn't paying attention. Hermione thankfully stopped her before she got too far.
"Baby steps, Alice." The bushy haired witch said softly. She pointed to George and Malfoy. "No world history knowledge past the bubonic plague. And after what we've been discussing, maybe tonight isn't the best time to start learning about death camps and world wars."
"Death camps?" George raised an eyebrow.
"Trust me, if you thought you were having nightmares before…." Harry said while shaking his head.
Not surprisingly, George looked like he wanted to know every iota of info they could tell him. What was surprising was that Malfoy seemed to want that too.
"Are you saying that this Hitler fellow was worse than the Dark Lord?" He said. "I'm curious to know why."
"Well, the obvious difference is that one killed a few thousand and the other several million in industrially organized concentration camps, but I agree with Hermione. I think we can skip the details tonight. Although I am deeply saddened that they didn't teach you this in school." Alice told him. "Hog's warts indeed." She snorted a cold laugh. A strange sound after her introduction to the Holocaust. "Back to the Snatchers. Do you know how Lars Plim died, Mr. Malfoy?"
Here was the bread and butter of the situation. They could flitter around the subject all night, telling Alice vague descriptions of Voldemort's characteristics and bigotry, but explaining the horrors the man did was going to be rough.
"Yes. My aunt murdered him. She used the killing curse." Malfoy didn't want to play footsie anymore it seemed. "She tortured him first, of course. She was good at that."
"What do you mean by torture? Is it in the same sense that you meant before?" She had pulled the photo album back from him to remove Plim's picture in order to scratch out a few sentences on the back of it with a pen. "The body had no physical evidence of any mistreatment."
Malfoy watched her write. He was entranced with the pen. It could have been the first time he'd seen someone use something other than a quill.
"The Cruciatus curse wouldn't leave a mark." Hermione answered for him. "That's the real beauty and horror of it. It causes the worst pain imaginable but that's all it is; imaginable."
"And this was your aunt's doing?" Alice didn't even blink. "Tell me about her. What's her name?"
Malfoy's eyes did a strange backwards fluttering flip. Hermione noticed and a sudden wave of worry passed over her. It was as if the Slytherin had fallen out of a window and she needed to save him. Hermione reached her hand across the table to catch the man by the collar, afraid he would collapse. The instant her fingers snagged the fabric of his cotton tee shirt Malfoy swatted Hermione's hand away.
"I'm fine." He berated his new housemate. "Bellatrix." He told Alice. "Bellatrix Lestrange." Another eye flicker. "She was a lunatic and a devoted follower of the Dark Lord."
"She's dead now?"
"Yes. Died in battle."
"You were present when she killed this man?" Alice continued to scribble on the photograph.
"I was." He barely whispered it.
"Why did she kill him? Do you know?"
Malfoy gave a long sigh and closed his eyes. "She thought he defected. I don't know if he actually did or not. He said he didn't but she was torturing him at the time. It's hard to be sure if someone is telling the complete truth while they're shitting their pants and crumpled into a heap on the floor."
Alice nodded. Her expression showed no betrayal that Malfoy's words had even been heard. The rest of them had varying degrees of misery on their faces. Harry figured each of them had been victim to Bellatrix's violent Cruciatus.
"You really aren't getting it, are you!?" Harry slammed his fist on the table. "It was hell! George's brother was killed, I lost my parents, Malfoy had the madman living at his house…"
"You did?" Alice blinked at the blond.
"My family supported him." Malfoy shrugged.
"Did you?"
It was getting to a point where Harry knew they could never fully explain it to her. There were too many details. Too many events and people being killed and too many memories to go back through. Malfoy looked more emotionally traumatized than Harry, which was saying something, and Hermione was about to fall out of her chair from the drinks she had consumed. George just looked exhausted.
"I did in the beginning." Malfoy made eye contact with Harry as he answered Alice's question. "But that changed completely later."
"What happened to Plim's body after he died?"
Malfoy frowned while considering her question. "I don't know. I assume he was put in a mass grave with the rest."
"Where was the mass grave? Do you know how many bodies were in it? Were any of them ever moved?"
"And... I think we're done for the night." George wiped a lazy hand over his face. "We've been at it for nearly an hour and I'm starving."
"But…."
"Quit while you're ahead, love. Malfoy won't talk to you later if you question him too much."
"Fine, just one more question. Do you remember if Plim had a brother? A twin perhaps?"
George's relaxed exhaustion stiffened to a hard glare. Malfoy noted it and chewed on his bottom lip.
"Yes."
Harry's belly flipped over.
"Were they identical?" Alice's voice suddenly sounded far away. Harry saw Malfoy shake his head.
"No, not identical but still twin brothers. I think the other one was a follower too but not a Snatcher. I only met him once before he died in the final battle." He pulled the book back from her. "Are you suggesting that they all are twins?"
"So far that's the only pattern we've seen. All three victims to be identified in this group have been twins."
Malfoy swallowed. "I'm no expert, but I wonder if," he trailed off, "never mind."
"WHAT?!" Her immediate enthusiasm startled all of them and Hermione finally tumbled out of her chair. Alice didn't wait for the other woman to regain her seating before interrogating Malfoy into continuing. "Tell me!"
"Um, well this one family has a fascination with twins. They felt twin siblings had a magical advantage over the rest of us and advertised it loudly. Alecto has a set of twin daughters that were in Slytherin. That family is extremely odd. They never admitted it but it was hinted that the twins' mother had several miscarriages on purpose until she could have two children at once."
Harry's stomach flipped the other direction.
"The Carrows?!" Hermione squeaked from her halfway seated position on the floor.
George looked ridiculously ill. Malfoy was shivering.
"Could you tell me more about them?"
"What's to tell? Only that they're maybe the worst human beings alive on the planet." Malfoy was starting to get angry. He shoved the book back to her. "The Carrow siblings tortured children for the fun of it. They weren't as treacherous as my aunt or the Lestranges, but they came close. I believe they lead the attack on the McKinnons."
"The McKinnons?" Alice was unstoppable. "What happened to them?"
Malfoy swallowed. "A few families were targeted as threats. Entire households would be attacked for many reasons." He explained. "Some were much less fortunate than others. The McKinnons were rather lucky in that they didn't suffer much. They were still tortured, I'm sure, but nothing in comparison to the Longbottoms or the McGonagalls," he paused to take a long drink, "or the Potters."
"Harry's family?" Alice frowned deeply. "You've been skirting around that detail for a while."
"My parents' deaths were a big pivotal point in the war." Harry explained. George opened his mouth to stop him but Harry raised a palm to silence the redhead. "No, she needs to know about this. I was marked in a prophecy after I was born that I'd be the chosen one to kill Lord Voldemort. When he heard about the prophecy, Voldemort set out to kill me before I grew up to kill him. He attacked my parents' house in Godric's Hollow and killed my father and mother to get to me. But when he turned his wand on me the death curse backfired and hit him instead. He wasn't killed but the blast destroyed him for the time being. It took him thirteen years to recuperate."
"Well that's the quick and dirty version." George darkly smirked. "Harry was also one years old at the time. The fact that he survived was unheard of. No one ever had before in his place, let alone a baby."
Malfoy sneered. "Yes, Potter is a miracle child."
"It wasn't something I did!" Harry felt his cheeks redden. "It was because my mum threw herself in front of me. Her sacrifice fucked up the curse!"
Alice looked puzzled. "But Voldemort didn't die."
"No, Potter got to complete his prophecy and kill the monster sixteen years later." Malfoy said.
Harry groaned and slammed his head into the table. "You make it sound like I had a choice."
"Don't sell yourself short, mate." George patted Harry on the back. "He's a hero." He told Alice. "Who knows what would have happened if Harry didn't defeat that psycho."
"All this time I've been talking with a war hero?" She beamed at him. "I would have never guessed."
"Technically they're all war heroes." Malfoy gestured with one arm toward the group. "Everyone here except me, of course."
"Wait." Hermione bounced back in from her long moment of listening. "You mentioned the McGonagalls. What happened to them?"
Malfoy looked saddened. He wouldn't look at Hermione and instead began stirring his drink again with his spoon. "You don't know?"
Hermione shook her head as did Harry while George and Malfoy appeared panicked.
"They said her husband died of dragon pox." Hermione said.
"Good. Keep telling yourself that." George honestly cautioned.
Obviously Professor McGonagall's husband had befallen a fate far worse than dragon pox. Harry guessed even worse than the Longbottoms by the color Malfoy's face had changed.
"We are NOT discussing that tonight." Malfoy hissed. "I do not want to have to get more drunk."
"Fine by me." George agreed. "So about that dinner we were supposed to have?"
The evening ended on a slightly more pleasant melody with three pizzas and a giant plate of biscuits Hermione had dug out of her pantry. Malfoy retreated to his guestroom upstairs before they had finished their first few bites. Hermione watched him leave sadly but didn't move to follow him. No one else even bothered to wish him goodnight. Harry pondered the behavior of the young Death Eater as he chewed.
"Do you think he'll be alright?" Harry said while pulling the toppings off the pizza to eat with his fingers.
"Who?" George was helping himself to his fourth slice.
"Malfoy. I think his parents really messed him up."
"Pfft, obviously. Bellatrix did too it seems."
"Hermione," Harry addressed his female best friend, "he didn't really fall off his broom, did he?"
She shrugged and put the biscuit she was munching on down. "Oh, he fell alright. He fell almost nine stories onto the concrete sidewalk and cracked his skull open! The reason he's wearing a hat is because he's vain about the scar. I healed it as best as I could but since he won't go to a proper healer he'll have to deal with it."
"So, he got hit by a bludger in the middle of a city or did something happen to make him fall?" George added. "Or did he perhaps fall off his broom on purpose?"
Hermione looked to have swallowed her food down the wrong pipe or just forgot how to breath for a moment. "What...what are you suggesting?" She coughed.
"Well…" George looked to Harry for support. "You have to agree that the man seems depressed. I mean, who wouldn't be with Lucius Malfoy as their dad."
Hermione gasped and clutched her mouth. "You think he attempted suicide!"
Harry instantly wasn't hungry anymore. On the contrary, he felt rather nauseous.
"Considering the things he said tonight and the little glaring fact that he's living with you in order to avoid his problems, then yeah, I'd say that Malfoy is suicidal."
"No!" Hermione shoved her plate away. "That can't be! He has seizures when he flies! The hospital even diagnosed him with epilepsy."
"What kind of seizures?" Alice mentioned. "Grand mal?"
Hermione nodded. "I think so. I've yet to see one in full swing. He has small tremors a lot but nothing lasts longer than half a second. I think the meds the Muggle doctors prescribed him are helping. His records from the hospital had his seizures clocked almost at two minutes! That's terrifyingly long! I'm surprised he didn't have severe brain damage when we found him."
"Wow." George said. He shook his head and also pushed away his food. "I just learned about seizures from The Prophet. They've been becoming more common and no one knows why."
"They know why." Harry said, realizing that his hands were quivering and wiped his fingers on a napkin before settling them in his lap. "People have a tendency to break into fits of madness after being exposed to Unforgivables too much. Mostly from the Cruciatus." He shuddered. "We learned about it during Auror training. They are never classified as seizures but that's exactly what they are."
No one continuing eating after that except for Alice. No one talked about Malfoy or the War either. Alice was ready to ask Harry and Hermione to identify photographs in her book but George stopped her.
"I'm tired and they are too. Come on, Alice, I'll take you home."
"Hang on." Harry reached for the book of photographs. "I will need to let Robards look at this. Do you mind if I borrow it?"
Alice pulled the album closer to herself and therefore out of his reach. "Actually, yes, I do mind. This is classified evidence. I can't just give it to you."
He should have figured she would say that. The data she had collected in the little album had been her magnum opus.
"Right." He pulled his arms back. "We'll eventually have to get you to speak with the Auror department."
"That will be fun." George grumbled sarcastically.
"Harry's right, George, the Aurors need to know everything about this! I'm shocked you haven't told anyone about it sooner! There's some crazy person digging up graves and leaving bodies around!"
"Hey, I only learned the whole thing a few days ago! And I owled Harry about it right away!"
"He did." Harry spoke. "I told Robards about it as soon as I could. He didn't believe me so the photographs would have been a nice incentive."
Harry had many a colorful word to share about his new boss but didn't have the energy to get into it. Telling the older Auror that Fred Weasley's body had been confiscated by the Muggles had awarded Harry with extra paper work and a cold sneer.
"Well, I'd be honored to meet with them as long as my memory stays intact. However, since the first person I spoke with was George's father, who also works for the magical government, I assumed they already knew about it."
Harry gave Alice a puzzled look. "You talked to Arthur first?"
She nodded. "He came to my office to discuss the death of Jiles Yellowby. He said he had heard rumors of a mysterious body being found and pointed me down the path of meeting George."
"Dad sought you out?" George also seemed confused. "I thought you interrogated him on your own!"
"No." She started picking up the plates and stacking them for Hermione. "He was the one that helped me get into Diagon Alley after I told him of your brother's remains showing up on the bank of the Themes. And is that really what it's called? Diagonally? You all name things so strangely. Quid itch and hog warts."
"This just keeps getting weirder." Hermione said. "Arthur was acting very strange at work the other day. He was having problems remembering things."
George waved her comment away. "Nah, Dad's always been a bit off."
"But to find out about Fred and then not tell anyone about it? That seems rather bizarre to me." Hermione had her arms crossed. For a moment they all watched George, expecting him to say something, but he ended up excusing himself from the table and escorting Alice to the door.
"It's been an evening." He gave Hermione a quick hug at the foyer. "Not necessarily a good one but I'm still glad I came. If Malfoy gives you any grief don't hesitate to Floo me straight away. I have no qualms with strangling the ferret." George winked.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Tell him he's a ferret to his face and see what happens."
"Oh I will. Take care, Hermione. Harry."
"Bye, George. Goodnight, Alice." Harry waved to the Weasley twin and the blonde girl as they strolled out of the front yard and into the muggy December night.
"Well, she's different." Hermione stated after the two were gone.
"Different is a nice way to put it." Harry smirked.
"You think they'll last long?"
"I doubt it. Although who am I to know anything about romance."
"Same goes for me." She shook her head. "I don't know, Harry, she gives me a weird feeling. Besides the whole murder detective thing she just seems a bit off."
Harry shrugged. "I know. But George really is smitten with her."
"I guess. Go home, Harry. I need to go to bed and sober up before I have to work tomorrow."
"Drinking on a Sunday night. Brilliant idea."
She gave a snort laugh. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Night." He wrapped his cloak around his shoulders tighter and dislodged his scarf from his pocket.
"Oh, and Harry, don't tell Ron about Malfoy."
"I wasn't going to." He glared at her. "Malfoy's really fucked up, Hermione. Telling Ron about his problems is the last thing he needs. I'm actually quite worried about him. You tell me if he needs anything."
She lifted her eyebrows and giggled.
"What?!"
"Nothing, it's just strange to see you worried about Malfoy. Sounds like you might fancy him a bit!"
Harry flushed scarlet. "That isn't funny! He's really….I can't believe you!"
She bent over her knees in laughter. "You fall for that one every time!"
The ongoing joke since sixth year that Harry had feelings for Malfoy had started out harmless and was ending brutal.
"I hate you. I'm leaving now." Harry threw his scarf around his neck and pulled up the hood of his cloak. He wasn't sober enough to Apparate home and he prefered to walk a bit. Hermione didn't shut the front door until he had made it to the end of her narrow street and turned the corner.
God dammit, Malfoy. He thought. Why do you always make things difficult?
Somewhere in his head Harry imagined the Slytherin answering him.
Because you like it that way, don't you, Potter?
Harry swore to himself he would never let George make him drink so much ever again.