Hello! Sorry for the wait but good news is I had a breakthrough today which have helped massively with some issues I've been having: basically I didn't like how slow paced this story was shaping up to be but a few cuts and changed and I was inspired.
Thank you so much for the reviews, they really help my writing! Once again- no beta reader and dyslexic so sorry for any mistakes! Constructive criticism welcome along with suggestions and what you like (really helps me know what direction you lot hope for: I have this story fairly planned out now but tone can be a tricky balance)
As usual I own nothing but the shirt on my back… ok it's my sisters but she doesn't know I have it!
Anyway, enough rambling: on with the story!
This was ridiculous!
Albus Dumbledore was sitting in Fudges office being told that the Minister couldn't meddle with the newspapers! Dumbledore happened to know for a fact that was a load of rubbish! Fudge just wanted the papers away from his latest scandal (and possibly to put Dumbledore down a peg; it seemed as the minister's confidence and comfort in his position grew so did his paranoia that others would want to take it from him).
As it was the article that had been published in the early edition was supposedly just a 'brief overview' that had been written and the full version would be out soon! It was unacceptable, what about Harrys right to privacy? What about police confidentiality? Why couldn't Fudge see he needed to stop this now before things got out of hand, they needed to think and decide what legal action of their own they needed to take!
Instead it seemed he was being questioned on every choice he'd made regarding Harry Potters wellbeing in the past with no one listening to what was needed in the here and now. While Dumbledore knew these questions would need to be addressed they should not be the first priority and while it was true sometimes his choices were not legally sound, such as his decision to keep Harry's vault key away from the Dursley's, morally he knew they had to be done. If he hadn't they'd have spent all the boy's money on their son and Harry wouldn't have been able to pay for his own school books! Other times he'd depended on a fine balance: he'd kept an eye on Harry and put wards up, but he'd never spied inside the house in order not to overstep the boundaries of basic decency or privacy (a decision he was starting to sorely regret). Unfortunately it seemed no matter where in relation to society's lines he stood, whether he crossed them legally or ethically or if he stayed firmly on the acceptable side, the decision he made was the wrong one!
It was going to be hard to explain this though: how can you say you kept the boys money from the family because you feared they'd steal it, yet still argue it was a good idea to leave him there (without saying about the blood wards and how he needed to protect Harry from a man who at the time of the placement was 'dead'. That would raise questions on why he felt it was necessary; it's not that he couldn't explain that under normal circumstances, but it's hard to say Voldemort could return without striking a panic, and Fudge would never allow it to be published, he'd just tell the papers to say he was going senile).
It was a scenario the old man wasn't used to: he had enough worldly experience and wisdom that he was used to his decisions working out in the end, with mistakes being regrettable rarities. However, it seemed with Harry no one was ever happy: he was too distant, then he was too close, he needed to provide guidance, then he was showing favouritism!
The boy's situation was complex enough without all these nit-picking people who seemed to want nothing more than to complain! He'd like to see them do a better job.
As it was the Headmaster was stuck answering questions raised by the Minister of Magic in regard to a report about the Boy Who Lived, rather than going out and actually fixing the problems (he should have just gone straight to number 4 though that would probably be wrong too with the way things were going).
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Arthur sat at his kitchen table in the early morning sun. Harry was still asleep on the camp bead next to Ron and the father had decided it would be best to turn off all the alarms in the house to encourage them to rest as much as possible before today's tasks began… and give him time to think.
As he nursed a cup of tea he mused on the previous night:
It was late when Harry and Mr Weasley had arrived back at the Burrow, and they went in to find Ron had drifted off at the kitchen table. Clearly, he'd refused to go to bed, wanting to wait for Harry and his father, and the blanket draped around his shoulders and pillow slipped under his head indicated he'd been distraught enough for Molly to allow it. Usually Ron was quite adept at late nights but with a full summer of playing quidditch and preparing for the world cup Arthur wasn't surprised his son had finally burnt himself out. Unfortunately his sons latest growth spurt meant neither he nor his wife were likely to be able to carry him to bed like they did so often when he was a child. It was strange to think how quickly things had changed, how it seemed almost overnight his son had gone from being a toddler being carried to bed after a day of chasing gnomes and playing in the fields around the house to a teenager who had done so much, seen so much alongside the boy who currently stood beside him. A teenager who had exhausted himself waiting up for his friend who was clearly holding dark secrets that nobody should ever have to hide and a burden nobody should have to bare.
Yes You Know Who was currently gone and Harry, Ron, and all his children and their friends SHOULD be safe. Should be allowed to have the carefree existence he and his wife fought a war to achieve. That so many others lost their lives hoping to achieve.
And yet, things were not so simple. That much was clear.
There was still danger out there and Arthur was sure this was just the beginning of a new chapter which would hold a fresh set of challenges for all involved. He could only hope the younger players would allow him, his wife and all who had previously lived through the trials of the past would allow them to guide them through the trials of the future to help lead them to a happier outcome.
Glancing to his side where Harry stood the older man realised the teenager was swaying slightly on his feet. It was clear the boy hadn't been sleeping well and to top it off today had been an emotionally and mentally trying experience; to have one's own family accused of such serious crimes, so shortly after a run in with a criminal like Sirius Black. Harry may still think the man was innocent but to Arthur that just emphasised the strain he'd been under, for a confundus to last so long he must have been truly distressed to learn the truth and is now clinging to the fantasy that was placed upon him.
While Arthur wished he could talk to Harry immediately, provide council, and offer guidance- maybe to talk to Ron as well (he hadn't really discussed the incident with Black with his youngest son but realised now he too may still be suffering the aftermath) Arthur knew now was not the right time. Now was the time to take small actions of comfort and allow the boy to rest rather that overwhelm him. Turning to the smaller boy Arthur offered a supportive smile
"Can I get you a cup of tea Harry? Or something to eat?"
Harry just shook his head, he hadn't really eaten all day except for the tea and biscuits he'd been given but he simply wasn't hungry. It was strange how fast today had passed. The raid had happened in the morning, yet by the time the search had been done, the first interviews conducted and he had been taken away from number 4 with the police it had been coming on for mid-afternoon. Then they had a lot of waiting around at the station before finally arriving here in the evening, and while not as late as Harry usually stayed up until, Harry was exhausted.
As if summoned by the mere thought of someone being hungry under her roof Molly quickly entered the room with a warm smile on her face that only years of marriage had taught Arthur was a well-rehearsed fake and that his wife had been waiting in the other room for that question to be asked.
"Harry dear, it's good to see you again!" she said gently, pulling him into a quick hug "you're just in time, I made some lovely vegetable soup, just sit down and I'll warm you up a bowl"
Harry had known Mrs Weasley long enough to know this was not a request and no matter if he felt hungry or not, he was eating the soup. He took the seat opposite Ron wondering what to do about his snoring friend, though he didn't wonder for long as Molly quickly gave Ron a poke in the side- not hard enough to hurt but she clearly knew a special spot as Ron was quickly started awake and blinked while trying to remember why he was sleeping at the table.
Then Ron looked at Harry and suddenly the pieces fell into place.
"Harry! Blimey, sorry mate, didn't realise you were here already. What time is it?"
"About 9pm" His father answered "your mother made soup if you want some?"
The redheaded teen nodded before turning to his friend again
"Are you OK, Dad said you called on the fellyphone and that you were in danger and your family was in trouble and it was an emergency…"
Before Ron could continue Harry thought it would be best if he stopped his friend there so gently interrupted
"I'm fine, I wasn't in danger, it was just… a really complicated situation" understatement of the year Harry though but he really didn't feel like discussing it here and now with both of Ron's parents in the room even if his dad knew most of it already "my uncles in a bit of legal trouble, a sort of dodgy business deal and when the police came the Dursley's couldn't provide any proof of who I was or that I was meant to be there so I wasn't allowed to stay"
"They needed 'proof' of who you were? No offence mate but why not just move your hair?"
Harry couldn't help but smile a bit at that
"Muggles, remember, they don't know about that little shenanigan"
That warranted a chuckle from the other boy.
They sat in tense silence for a moment eating there soup, everyone looking like they wanted to ask a question but not knowing how to voice it. In the end Harry surprised everyone by speaking up first
"It's telephone"
"What?" asked Ron looking confused
"The device I rang on, it's called a telephone, with a t"
Ron and Arthur both nodded at that and the silence became a bit more comfortable
As soon as the food was gone they two boys were sent to bed
The second he was clear of the kitchen Arthur was accosted by his wife.
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…
Meanwhile that evening Detective Stevenson was still hard at work going through the evidence recovered from number 4 Privet Drive and looking over the lab results. They had been fast tracked with the samples being sent immediately for processing. Sure enough it was the same drug they'd been looking for that was in that bag. And it was pure!
Things were looking bright for her investigation; plenty of physical evidence, one of the associates taking a sudden change of stance deciding out of nowhere to rat on his co-conspirators meaning witnesses, a list of additional charges as long as her arm, and documents showing the true extent of the companies connection to the substances.
Yes: this was going to be good. Better than good! When the trial was done it would mean true recognition for all her hard work. With recognition came opportunity. With opportunity promotion.
She leaned back in her chair and allowed a brief moment to hold her cup of strong tea and smile.
It wasn't just the personal benefits either. She and her team were about to save hundreds of lives. Mabey thousands. Not just from death but the pain and heartache that came from a life of addition. She was saving people- young people- from poor health, from destroying bright futures. She was saving families from the pain and shame of having a drug addict in the family. She might even save lives when the teenagers these substances were targeted to grow up and became something better like firefighters, doctors, or teachers. Maybe even police like her. Maybe they will do what she does and the cycle would continue.
True she wasn't naïve; she knew some would simply pick up a different needle. Choose a different substance to snort or inject or huff or smoke. Some would die from disease or car accidents. But some, just some, would live. Would learn. Would survive.
That was what she fought for.
He internal musing was interrupted by a sharp knock on her office door and it promptly swinging open to reveal Officer Mathews.
He was an interesting man in her opinion. Driven. Determined. With a strong moral compass that made him very good at his job, but also stubborn and obsessive.
Yet he was nice enough, kept to himself. Until recently he had been a PC working towards specialising with kids and domestic matters. It made sense; about 8 years prior he'd been a teacher so he had experience with kids. Yet out of nowhere he'd requested to be moved onto her taskforce. She took a chance and agreed to let him work on interviewing the teenagers who were known users or dealers. She hadn't regretted her choice.
The man was determined. He was on the war path, not only to help the teens he spoke with but to bring the system down! It was like he was on a mission that lead straight to Vernon Dursley's destruction. If she didn't know better she'd think it was personal.
The man had clearly been hurt at some point in life. A wrong that drove him to take chances and do anything it took to fix it, and to trust no one to help. If he hadn't been a primary school teacher she'd say he lost a student. Maybe he'd seen too many parents with issues?
Whatever it was it was driving him again as she saw fire in his eyes.
"Good morning Paul" she sighed, while she admired that fire it did make him difficult to deal with at times "what can I do for you?"
"Why didn't you let me speak to him?" the man demanded, angry
"Who?"
"The boy. You found him at number 4! I'm supposed to deal with the youth impacted by that monster yet you didn't let me speak to a boy directly tortured by him!"
Well, the woman thought, this was unexpectedly dramatic.
"It was a delicate situation Paul. We had no idea who he was, why he was there, how he was affected or if he was even a victim" she tried to explain calmly. The man just scoffed
"Right, of course. The kid just locked himself in his own room from the outside after ditching all his personal belongings. I saw the photos of the room, the prison cell look must be catching on
Stevenson could only sigh. This wasn't going to be easy but in her defence she had no idea the man before her would be so worked up over something like this. So he didn't speak to the kid today? Sometimes it takes days for them to filter down to him! What made this one special besides the house he was in?
She was tired though, and definitely not in the mood for this with all the work she still had piling up on her desk
"Listen, today my priority was getting that id somewhere safe to stay away from number 4. We will be speaking to him again, and we will be speaking soon. As soon as I get the go-ahead I'll arrange a meeting and make sure you're the first to know"
She had hoped that would be enough to satisfy him but the man still looked conflicted. Still after a moment he simply looked at her and said
"Try to get a meeting with him tomorrow if possible. Don't worry about time or location- I'll send you my home phone and personal contact details, let me know and I'll be there"
With that he turned on his heel and left the bewildered woman before she could answer that tomorrow was highly unlikely. Still, he was gone and as she looked at the 8 stacks of paper before her sure that there had only been 4 a minute ago she figured it would be fine for her to grab what she could, go home and sleep for an hour or 2 before getting back to work.
As she packed her bag and left she didn't notice a faint light coming from the evidence room.
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…
Paul Matthews left his bosses office silently fuming.
This case had been everything! His obsession! His goal! His opportunity!
She was getting in the way of his perfect ending!
His revenge!
Without him this case wouldn't have even started! If only that fool knew what she owed him. He knew the kind of stakes she was resting on her little taskforce. She had everything to gain. And he had nothing to lose!
He thought back to the beginning of the year. He was still just another nobody. Another face in the crowd. A PC with no friends, no relationship, no family, and a broken purpose.
Then HE had shown up.
A strange man, small and wheezy with an unthreatening stature, yet emanating a strange power like a warped electrical field.
Paul had been alone in his run down flat when there was a knock on the door and there he was. He never learnt the man's name, yet whoever he was he seemed to know everything about Paul.
His goals
His dreams
The injustice he had faced
His obsession
His need for revenge.
Paul had been secretly stalking Vernon Dursley for months for what the bastered had done! Waiting for an opportunity that never seemed to be coming. Until now.
The memory from all those years ago still stung like a thousand tiny wasps!
He had only done his Job after all! He had only done what's right!
He just wanted to protect a child!
Harry Potter.
Such a small boy, it seemed like no one in the world cared for him at that time.
But Paul did.
And while it had been years since the now teenager was a trembling child with an injured arm the memory was still a raw wound that wept and stung at the slightest graze.
He had thought Harry potter was the boy he failed.
Just talking to the child was a battle. Getting any information an uphill struggle!
That's why he had to talk to him now! He'd managed before!
But more than that he needed Harry to know he hadn't given up on saving him. He still followed Vernon Dursley's company like a hawk, waiting for opportunity to show the brute's full nature and remove him not only from that hose but from society as a whole before he hurt anybody else!
He had tried before, it hadn't ended well.
The fools e worked for at the school had let fear and greed guide them into allowing Dursley to get away with his cruelty and Paul instead found himself the one being punished! Being cast out and disgraced.
He hadn't really trusted since then.
Until the strange man knocked on his door and finally, finally, gave him the answer to his problem!
He wove a story that pulled at Paul's heart, filled with the man's own woes at the hands of Vernon Dursley. It spoke to the former teacher's soul!
After his story he handed folder of documents to Paul, informing him of a raid that would be happening on Dursley's business.
It would be easy.
Slip the papers somewhere hidden from Dursley but easy enough for the police to find and let the wheel start to turn.
Of course Paul had his doubts at first.
But the papers were real, stolen from a safe that was supposed to be in a secure location.
He wasn't framing anyone, just exposing the truth. Like he wanted.
The final reassurance that this was what had to happen came when news hit him like a punch in the gut: the boy, Harry Potter, still lived there.
He too, had never had justice!
This wasn't simple revenge!
It was right!
It was justice!
It HAD to be done!
He took the papers, and spun the wheel.
Now, months later, after careful monitoring he was finally getting what he wanted. His patience was paying off and it was beautiful.
He slipped into the evidence room and retrieved a small bag. Within it was some strands of dark hair.
This was a part that had come later.
He hadn't seen much of the strange man since that first encounter, just the occasional tip off here or there. But he was the only man Paul had trusted in 8 years. The only friend he'd had in even longer.
So when he requested the hair Paul didn't question him. Didn't ask how he knew about the hair or what purpose it could serve. He knew I was just another step into changing the world.
Those papers may have been planted but what they found as a result of them was very real!
This man was working to speed up a process that without him may have never begun.
They had both been there. Watching from a small distance as the build up to Vernon Dursley's fall grew.
Oh, how he wished he could have spoken to Harry, even just once. He hoped the boy would remember him, if not he could find a way to let him know. To reassure the boy he wasn't forgotten. That his old teacher hadn't given up. That he never blamed Harry for what happened!
The policeman slipped into the darkening alley through the fire escape around the back of the building. It was remote and the camera had been broken for days.
There he was.
The mystery man. Waiting for him. His presence was oddly comforting even in the gloomy atmosphere. But then again this man was his only comfort. His only friend.
He handed the bag over
"This is it. I must know thought, what are you going to do with it?" he asked in a near whisper
The man smiled.
Only, it wasn't the reassuring smile he usually offered. The one that spoke of trust and hope. This one was almost sinister. A grin that spoke of a predator whose prey was oblivious to the danger it was in
"After they find the boy's body we'll place it in the Dursley's car. Those fools will be so convinced the brute finally did the boy in they'll never learn the truth"
Paul's blood froze.
He can't have heard that right.
This must be a mistake!
He was making the world a better place!
He was HELPING Harry!
Yet that grin spoke the truth too well
"But, you said you wanted to help! You promised that when this was done we'd finally have peace! You can't hurt him! I trusted you!"
He was panicking, his mind spinning!
What had he done?
Why had he blindly trusted a stranger to do his the first act of kindness he'd received in years? Was all this just another trick?
He looked at his friend, eyes begging for this to be just a cruel joke
The nameless man only smiled and reached into his pocket
"It will, thanks to you you'll both be at peace very soon" he slowly raised his arm as the terrified officer backed away a few steps "thank you Officer, your actions will change the world. And as your reward, you get your peace"
The last this Paul Mathews saw was a bright flash of green.
As the sky darkened in the alley a gentle breeze wafted along, picking up the ash that was once a man and slowly, bit by bit, carrying him away.