Thanks for the lovely reviews, the follows and favs :)
yes, the babe is Harry & in the next couple of chapters the why will be explained.
Chapter four.
Delton Dawlish was, understandingly so, angry. Or rather, beyond angry. Burning up on the inside, amazingly livid was more accurately to say. He picked up the book and one tap on the cover had the pages realign themselves. He shrunk the book and harshly shoved it into his pocket. He then collected the two pieces of rabbit, not knowing a mending spell for it, he hoped his wife would be able to fix it the old fashioned way with needle and thread. The rabbit was shrunken too and joined the book in his pocket. At that, Delton gave the room one last look and stalked out, up to the front desk.
The same guard as usual during the day was present. Delton thought of him as the one with the curly brown hair and plump figure, the name often escaped him. All he knew was that it was long and had so many letters, it surely would get top score in a game of scrabble and his brain wasn't made to remember such a hazard.
The guard sat there with his feet crossed on top of the counter, not even realizing the head Auror was nearing. He simply kept leafing through one or another of his many magazines and he nearly fell backwards of his chair taken unaware by the force of which Delton slapped his hands on top of the wood. Delton ripped the magazine out of his hands which made the guard visibly gulp when he glanced up and met the furious glare of the mad head Auror.
"What happened to him?" Delton bit out, throwing the magazine back at the man. "Where did he go?"
"Err.. Who?" The guard stuttered, trying to recollect himself.
"Prisoner five eight O. nine."
"Err.. I- I.." He babbled and stumbled shakily and Delton was in no mood to deal with it. Although able to keep a reign on his violent streak most of the time, Delton was in fact, a man fierce and quite easy to anger. He secretly liked those moments where he could let the leash go. Fair enough a man, he could be every man's worst nightmare but vowed to keep it for the battlefield. Except for this moment. His leash had slipped. He was, back in the day when Voldemort's reign was at its peak, the best man for the job and nowadays, he rarely had the opportunity to let himself go. Everybody was well aware of that fact and kept well in mind to not piss the man off.
The head Auror's face crushed up when the guard started the same sentence for the third time and yet had to say anything that made sense. Delton lunged over the counter, grabbed the front of the guard's uniform and pulled him out of the seat he just managed to sit back in again. "Just tell me what you know!"
"Mr. Dumbledore took him, Sir." The guard seemed for all it was worth to bite back his fright. "You did not receive the memo? There should've been a memo. Did they not send you a memo? A me-"
"No memo!"
Oh, err.. " the guard licked his lips nervously. "He's being housed somewhere else."
"Where?"
"I- I don't know."
Only then did Delton release the dead grip on the man's uniform. He did so by roughly pushing him back into his seat. "Fuck!"
Delton gave one last glare before he set off, intend on unraveling the child's whereabouts.
In the three days that followed, Delton couldn't quell his anger. He snapped at his Aurors, yelled to everybody instead of speaking calmly, growled at his wife and smashed doors. Without fail, each time he entered his office the mirror on the back of his door shattered to pieces. He seriously lacked his usual attention too; misplacing his stuff and papers, handing out assignments to the wrong teams and forgetting to attend meetings. On the fourth day, Delton took a sick leave, unable to deal with the situation.
One week at home had his temper back under control but his mood was foul. Extremely so. He blamed himself and quite badly. Why hadn't he done something before? Why had he let things simmer for so long? For the life of it, he couldn't answer himself. He should've done something, anything! How could he have left a child for years on end, locked up in a white room with barely anything and just him for company? It all felt so wrong and his self loathing peaked higher then any could imagine.
On the day that marked the start of the third week the child was gone, Delton's wife had enough.
That day, dark and eery with a blanket of the darkest clouds hovering low and threatening to spill their thunders and rains fitted the man's mood quite well. He was about to crawl back into bed after breakfast for another self pity party but his wife stopped him none too gently.
She was every bit of the perfect house wife, petite and sweet looking. Normally she complimented that look with her bubbly personality and smiles that could melt the snow and thaw any frozen heart. Not many knew she did have a devious side but today, Delton was kindly reminded of the fact.
A shove and a pull, a shout accompanied by a glare and Delton sat back down on the kitchen chair. He would've pouted if not for knowing she wouldn't appreciate that. She vanished for a moment and then a bottle and a book were shoved into his hands.
"What's this?" He looked from the bottle and the book he held awkwardly up to the woman who was looming over him.
With her hands in her side, one foot tapping, she pointed a finger at him, wiggling it as she hissed at him to suck up and man up. "Veritaserum and the book with help you freshen up your Obliviate charm."
He stayed silent for a while until he muttered that it was a bad idea but she wouldn't have any of it. A few minutes later, he found himself pushed out the door. The book and bottle in one hand, his Auror cloak in the other and his wife brightly smiling once again. "Don't come back till you found something." A indignant splutter of him, another kiss on his cheek and the door was firmly shut.
Oh well.
In the following week Delton had ripped apart his department. The general bad apples, the snitches and leakers where found and fired when he, against the rules and his own nature of abiding them, drugged every single one of his Aurors with Veritaserum in a vain try to find any information on the child. In addition, he greatly improved his sneaky ways and obliviation skills. He blamed his wife just a little for working so back handed but he logically knew he hadn't much of a choice. The news that he was so thoroughly searching couldn't end up with the minister of course. The search hadn't had any other result to his great disappointment. No one beside himself was aware of the existence of the child better known as prisoner five eight O. nine. The only thing he had learned was that the number wasn't registered. It was a blow in the face. For all his good deeds, he had been taken care of an illegal imprisoned person.
Since no one knew and everything about the child remained a mystery, he tentatively branched out to other departments but, as he could've guessed, they weren't of any help either and Delton hated it. How hard could it be to find the child?
During the fifth week Delton realized his only hope, the only lead he had for the moment where the minister and Mr. Dumbledore. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore - man of many titles and a man who he had tried to contact several times in mere days and failed, a man who remained elusive and out of his grasp and annoyingly, the minister was leveling the old man quite well in the act of being unreachable.
Delton only managed to speak with the minister once and the outcome hadn't been that great. The minister had tried to assure him the child was in the good hands of Mr. Dumbledore. He was explicitly told not to worry as his task was done. He shouldn't worry because, as the minister heavily reminded him, he had been clearly stated to stay emotionally detached from the prisoner and once again, the harsh words fell upon him. The prisoner was a threat to humanity, dangerous and Delton would do well to stop caring, he shouldn't be caring in the first place and he needed to leave it well enough alone.
"Forget the child exists. Are you truly willing to lose your job?"
Delton wanted to tell him he could shove the job up there where the sun doesn't shine but managed to bite his tongue and keep silent. His search was so much easier with the many door his position opened.
Even with them refusing to talk, Delton didn't gave up. In the three weeks after that the man still tried for an audience with Mr. Dumbledore and another one with the minister. In turn, his wife tried to come up with other places and ways to search. Sometimes he regretted she had gone to healer school instead of joining him at the Aurors. They could've been the best tag-team of their time.
Time passed by, too quick and Delton, seated at his desk gritted his teeth in frustration. Every little thing he had tried in the past two months, every person he questioned, every paper he read and archive he searched trough resulted in nothing. His search remained fruitless and Delton revolted it with a passion. Once again he wondered; How hard could it be? Seven years long had he taken care of the boy and yes, in spite of the warnings, the bright green eyed lad with scruffy black hair and scar marring his forehead had grown on him. Delton cared deeply enough for him as he did for his own two children.
Dangerous, prisoner or not, he wasn't afraid to admit his own feelings but apparently, they didn't matter because no one knew and the two that did weren't willing to help him on his quest. With a bang of his fist on his sturdy desk he scolded, them heartless bastards.
Delton sighed. He wanted so badly for them to give the information he wanted up but the minister ever so bluntly refused and told him not so friendly he was forbidden to find out. Not that he listened, he had to try. He felt the child's well being was on his hands, he felt responsible for what happened and he worried. Oh, how he worried. Going back to the papers in front of him, Delton suppressed another sigh. The papers he had recently required by some pull and tug with a clerk down at the registration office contained a list of children born in the year he thought the boy was from, but they didn't told him anything. Again, no answers. He was sick of it.
Angrily he swiped the papers of his desk so he could fold his arms on top of it to rest his head upon them. How long he sat like that was the question, so many things he thought over but he was pulled out of his revery by a knock on his door.
"Sir?" Mary poked her head through the small gap of his office door, and when he looked up, she blew a frizzy curl out of her sight and smiled. Delton groaned and flopped his head back on his arms.
"What?" The question was muffled by his sleeve but he didn't bother to lift his head up again.
Mary Li Salsa, no longer a junior but now one of his most trusted hit-wizards and close colleague merely shook her head and stepped into the office, leaving the door open. "They caught the eldest Lestrange. Your presence is required."
"By who?"
"By Mr. Lestrange himself. He refuses to cooperate unless he gets to speak with you."
At that, Delton finally lifted his head. "Since when do we jump at a captive's demand?"
"Since Mr. Lestrange has been successfully sending stunners at anyone who steps in his cell that isn't you." Mary answered, already moving through the room, collecting the papers of the floor and stacked them on the desk. She proceeded by plucking Delton's cloak of the hook and held it out to the grumpy man. He took it, silently questioning her.
She quirked a eyebrow, amused. "He's proficient at wandless magic."
"Ah," Delton nodded, pulled on his cloak and motioned her to follow. "Well, let's see what he wants from me then, shall we?"
