1:53

Amelia Bones stared at me over her desk with an unreadable expression. "Tell me, Hadrian, exactly what series of circumstances led to you choosing that particular office to deposit your acquisition?"

I shrugged. "Department of Magical Creatures. Werewolves are legally creatures. I was told MacNair was the man to see for disposal of dangerous beasts."

"I see. And you didn't see fit to inform my Department because…"

"Because I knew you had quite enough on your plate as it was, what with all of the…occurrences…in the Ministry itself."

"Hmmm. Speaking of the…occurrences…I must thank you once again for the information you have passed along. It has made the investigation into the…deaths…quite a lot easier."

"I can imagine."

"Yes. If you had not passed on that information to me, I should have been forced to charge the Prophet and Rita Skeeter to release it. And that is a political battle I have neither the time nor the inclination to deal with. As it stands, using the information you have provided, there is only one person whom I can pretty categorically state is not a suspect."

"And that would be?"

"Lord Malfoy."

"…Not that I don't believe you, but would you mind explaining?"

"Certainly. In all the dealings of the former Senior Undersecretary that we have uncovered, Malfoy's name is the one of the few that is completely missing. Which means, either he has truly had nothing worth knowing by Madame Umbridge, or he knew best how to hide his secrets. Both of which mean he has no reason at all to wish the Madame dead. This is further confirmed by the fact that both of the sequential bodies bore the Dark Mark on their arms, and I know for a fact that Mr. Malfoy would never betray his former comrades unless for some great gain. And considering that Madame Umbridge had dirt on both Madame Edgecombe and Mr. Yaxley, I find it unlikely that any and all secrets of Mr. Malfoy they might have carried did not end up in possession of the late Undersecretary."

"…Why are you telling me all this? I mean, I'm hardly DMLE, and even though I have had some dealings with Malfoy, I hardly think he would trust this information if I were to relay it."

"Because, my dear Hadrian…" she pulled out her wand.

My half-sword just touched the tip of her nose. "I would advise remembering what happened the last time someone drew on me around here."

"…Of course, sir. My apologies. I merely wished to establish some privacy spells."

"Go ahead. But take care. I don't sheath until you do. …I could have phrased that better."

"Agreed."

She flicked her wand in every direction but my own, then returned it to her holster. I did the same.

"…You know, I believe the story of your draw on MacNair somewhat more now."

"Good to know. Now, I reiterate, why did you tell me all of that?"

"Because, Hadrian, I am fairly confident that the Auror currently standing outside this office has something to do with the murders in this building."

Bollocks.

"…And you wanted to make sure he overheard that conversation because…"

"Because I wanted whoever he is working for to hear the same. In private, we have every reason to suspect Malfoy. Just the lack of his name alone is suspicious, plus the fact that the most likely leakers of his secrets here in the Ministry are the ones that got strung up."

"Literally. So, you believe that Malfoy is…"

"I believe nothing. I suspect everything. It is why I have lived so long. I believe that there are two sides to this game now: the side of your werewolf friend, and Malfoy's. The fact that your werewolf friend may be on Malfoy's side is unlikely at best, considering I know of only one man who would stand up to Greyback and have half-a-chance of winning. And he's Dumbledore's man through and through."

"Not anymore. He's had enough. He's clearing out. This was his final farewell gift, if you will. He needs the money to make it somewhere he won't be known. I offered to lend him the money, but he wouldn't take charity."

"Yes. That sounds like Lupin. He was a class below me in Hogwarts, you know."

"I did not."

"He and all of his friends: Pettigrew, Potter, and…"

"Black."

"…Yes."

"Ironically enough, that's part of the reason he's clearing out. He found out something about that whole mess that convinced him Dumbledore wasn't the shining paragon he once thought. He wouldn't say what, but I have my lawyer looking into it."

"Might I have his name?"

"Tonks. Ted Tonks."

"…I see. Making sure someone's family has a personal stake in an investigation is an excellent motivator."

"Quite."

"Now, to get back to the original subject. At first, I suspected Auror Dawlish because of a series of circumstances that seemed to connect the two of you."

Double bollocks.

"…Pray tell."

"The hearts."

"…I beg your pardon?"

"Do you know what one of the enchantments on my monocle is, Hadrian? It is the ability to detect where someone's heart truly lies. And the fact that I can no longer see my Auror's heart is a very troubling thing."

"…I could see why."

"Now, do you know the only other person I am unable to see the heart of?"

"…I'm gonna go out on a limb and say me?"

"Yes. Now, why would that be, Hadrian?"

"Quite simple. The same accident that resulted in my…longevity…also resulted in the loss of my soul."

"You call it an accident. I would call it a crossroads deal."

This day just kept getting worse and worse.

"…I can assure you, Director, that I would never do such a thing. Enough demons had a hold on my soul as it was; the last thing I would do would be to willingly give another one power over me."

"Oh, I believe you. I just wanted to see how far afield you had traveled during your time in the world. All information on crossroads deals, in fact most of the supernatural, has been restricted in European magical circles for some time."

"Ah. The Men of Letters, I suspect?"

"Correct. You were instrumental in their founding, after all. Magic has always been one of the things they have done their best to regulate. They handled the Muggle side of the last two wars, for the cost of information such as crossroads deals being buried even deeper."

"Understandable. I shudder to think what would have happened had Grindelwald sold his soul and gained even more power."

"Yes. Now, the only question I have left is: who is in possession of my Auror's soul?"

"…Well, I can tell you right now it isn't Malfoy."

"…Are you sure of that?"

"Quite sure. I have been doing business with him recently, and he has far bigger things on his plate than a few dead 'upstanding members of society.'"

Understanding flashed across Bones' face. "…Malfoy holds the Black votes, doesn't he?"

"Yes."

"And if he were to suddenly discover a hole in Sirius Black's imprisonment…"

"Goodbye majority in the Wizengamot."

"…I have underestimated you, Hadrian. There are indeed two sides to this game: yours, and whoever dares oppose you. You are playing Malfoy as insurance."

"Not just as insurance. I have other people I can count on for that."

"Like whom?"

"Read tomorrow's Prophet. I'm sure it'll be in there somewhere."

"…Noted. So, do you have any idea who might have seen fit to perform these gruesome deeds?"

I shrugged. "No idea. After all, if Skeeter sold her information to me, I'm quite sure she's sold it to other people. Not to mention whoever apparently got Umbridge to spill her secrets. I assume you checked her for magical influence?"

"Yes. Nothing. But now I'm wondering if the same person who got to Dawlish also got to Umbridge. After all, once you're dead, it's relatively hard to determine if you lost your soul before that."

"True. Just to insure nothing of the sort continues to happen, you might wish to publish a note in the Prophet, something to the effect that you are investigating further connections to the victims that might have provided sufficient motive. And then afterwards mention that MacNair was found to have a Dark Mark on his arm, and that he is no longer with us. If the perpetrator believes that you are beginning to use lethal force to investigate, he or she might be inclined to hold off on their own retribution."

"…I'll take it into consideration."

"Good. If there is anything else, Director?"

"Just the one. I recall seeing a very old illustration that bears a striking resemblance to the blade you carry. I can assume there is some truth to the rumors you are investigating relics of the Founders' time, considering you managed to acquire half of Excalibur?"

"…You could say that."

"Excellent. I look forward to seeing you results. Oh, incidentally, do you know the name the Prophet has decided to run with for our perpetrator?"

"I couldn't begin to imagine."

"The Night Stalker. It was the headline this morning. Whoever they are, they certainly couldn't ask for a more dramatic one than that."

I silently cursed Fate in my head.

"…No. No, they couldn't. Good day, Amelia."

"Good day, Hadrian. And don't forget tea on Tuesday."

"How could I, with such a marvelous woman sharing her time with me? Until then."


"Good day to you, Miss Skeeter."

"And good day to you, Lord Howlfang. Now, what delicious story do you have for me today?"

"Stories, Miss Skeeter. And I barely have enough time to give you this as it is. I'm expected in New York in fifteen minutes."

She smiled like a shark. "You can count on me to fill in the blanks."

"Yes. Story one: Fenrir Greyback is dead. And quite a large number of his pack. They shan't be bothering anyone in England ever again. The Ministry will confirm it."

Skeeter's eyes began to bug out. "…And the second story?"

"Tiberius Ogden no longer owns the betrothal contract for one Daphne Greengrass. House Slytherin does. Please, do try and make it seem like a master stroke."

Skeeter had dropped her quill at that. "…Be…Betrothal Contract?"

"Yes, and it was a devilish business. But well worth it. You are not to pester any member or the Greengrass family or Lord Ogden for an interview. Nor are you to make up any of their comments. The rest, I leave up to you."

"Wait! The Crumple-Horned Snorkack! Did you really discover one, and give the Quibbler the evidence?"

"Of course. It's an agreement I have with Mr. Lovegood, that he gets first pick of all magical discoveries I have. If you wish pictures of your own, he will always be the one to ask. Now, I believe that is all Miss Skeeter. Good day to you."


"Good morning, Hadrian!"

"Good morning, Luna. Is your father in?"

"No, I'm afraid he's completely out. Bonkers. Off his head. But he is in his office."

"…Thank you, Luna."

"Do you normally carry people's hearts around in your pockets?"

"…Only if they've done something I didn't agree with."

"Oh, poo. I was hoping you would carry my heart around with you wherever you go."

"…And we both know there's nothing you could ever do that I would disagree with."

"Of course! You're my friend!"

"Yes, Luna. Save me some of that pudding when I come back through, please. It looks delicious."

"I know! The dirigible plums really hold the consistency! Oh, and mind the cuddle-pus when you go through the hall. It's decided to learn to play five-dimensional chess with Daddy."

"…Understood."


"Mr. Lovegood?"

"Yes, my boy?"

"Why is there a spawn of Yog-Sothoth in your office?"

"Why, he's learning to play five-dimensional chess, of course! In return, he's going to give me an interview! He was so delighted when he saw that I had finally discovered a Snorkack; it meant I could reliably hold a conversation with him without my mind melting!"

"The son…of Yog-Sothoth…reads the Quibbler…you know what, I'll think about that later…"

Lovegood nodded serenely. "It's how I've lived my life, my boy, and it's worked well so far. Now, are you going to show me the broken blade of Excalibur, or not?"

"…Your guest won't mind if I draw it?"

GRAAAWWWBLEEETHICHUACHHHHUMPHHHH.

"…I'll take that as a no."


I smoked back to where I had left Lupin. "All ready to go?"

He took a look around at the gathered weres, and then nodded.

"Good. We're going to Gringotts in New York, to get you your needed documents. And the Ministry was kind enough to give us a little extra gold to make sure everything goes smoothly. On three, we go. One…two…three!"


"Greetings, Account Manager Griphook. I need a full set of forged Magical identification papers and licenses for…" I turned around and began counting, "…Twelve adults and seven children. I have someone to handle the Muggle end of things. Here is the payment. The rest is to be put into a communal account, with Mr. Lupin here as the Key-holder."

I plonked down the bag of Ministry gold in front of him.

Griphook looked down at the pile of coins, and then back up to me with a wide grin. "That will be more than plenty, Blade Dancer. The first set can go on back."

I waved the first couple and their daughter forward.

"Oh, and it may interest you to know that your official blood-record has automatically updated. Another title has been added to the list: The Night Stalker. The Goblin nation approves."

Of bloody course they did.


"You want us to what?"

"Forge. Documents. For twelve adult werewolves. And seven cubs. And I will gladly pay double the going rate. They're going to be living with Garth's clan."

Ashe looked up from his computer. "Garth? You mean they're pureblood?"

"They're going to be. Found a partial cure that gives them control over the transformation, at the cost of literally becoming a wolf when they do so. Albeit a sentient wolf."

"…I know some people that would pay out of their butts for that."

"Too bad. For anything other than magical werewolves, it's just a normal cure."

"…Still know a few potential buyers. You let me deal with them, I keep the profits, and I'll be more than happy to give you all the fake ID you could possibly need."

"Deal."

"CHARLIE! WE GOT CUSTOMERS!"


Rhiannon looked from the potion, back to Cas and I. "This…this is how Remus did it? A Muggle potion?"

"Made by Muggles. But totally magical. You'd be surprised what goes on in the magical parts of other countries."

She considered my answer, then slowly picked up the bowl. "Alright. How do we do this?"


Lupin looked from the house back to me in confusion. "I don't understand. This is…ours?"

"Yep. Biggest magical house I could find near Garth. He'll be your contact to help you settle into the Muggle world. It's a communal society, so you're all going to have to share whatever you gain. You're the only one I trust with the Vault key, plus you're the Alpha, so here you go."

He took the key. "But what about Harry? How am I going to…"

I thwacked him on the head. "Are you or are you not a wizard, man? You can apparate, can't you?"

"…Oh. Sorry. And…thank you. For everything."

"Don't thank me yet. If worse comes to worse, I may need you to 'come back to life' as a Hogwarts professor. Defense Against the Dark Arts. Which is something you're going to be teaching Harry, Castiel, and myself during the remaining weeks before term. Savvy?"

"…I savvy. Thank you again."

"Don't mention it. Come by on Saturday, I should have some interesting news for you."

"I look forward to it."


"Harry?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Hmph. You're catching on. Is your occlumency coming along well?"

"Yes, Professor. Aunt Rowena says that's probably because I've technically learned it already."

"She'd be right. If you feel like you can keep everything I've told you in the past couple of days a secret behind your shields, how would you like to go flying with Draco Malfoy sometime next week?"

Harry looked from me to Cas. "Can I Uncle Cas?"

"…If your professor is going to be there, I don't see why not. Will he be needing a broom?"

I held up a Nimbus 2000. "Already taken care of."

"Wicked!"