Cokeworth used to be a very working class place to live. Factories, pubs, and what little nature still existed on the outskirts, with interspersed warehouses dotting the landscape. Over time near the turn of the century, the factories had closed. Workers left, the smokestacks stopped spewing their ominous clouds above the city and the truck depots were bought up for a pittance by the city to build libraries, museums and parks, and by others to open restaurants and shops.
Nowadays it was a very nice place to live, and in turn housing prices had tripled. Nature too had reclaimed part of the abandoned industries. Trees had grown against the disused workplaces and the fields near the city had grown chest-high grass.
In the middle of one field stood a strange sight. A tall and wiry man wearing a purple cloak, his shining green eyes surveying the landscape. He was smiling. If anyone were there to see him, they might think he was escaped from a nearby mental institution, because really apart from the trees and houses in the distance there wasn't much to see.
With human eyes, that is. For the wizard as he scanned the grasses, could see much more than muggle eyes. Sixty feet away in the high grass, he watched the glowing outline of a stray cat creeping up on a field mouse who was rapidly breathing from the heat.
Further ahead, behind the trees, two forms, probably male, were drinking something, leaning against a car. And as his eyes settled on the row houses, a brilliant red smattering of figures moved about inside. The grass parted for him as he moved forward out of the field and onto the street. With purpose he calmly walked down, inspecting the occupants.
One man in a leaned back position, probably watching television. A woman doing the dishes. Three children in the back garden playing. He stopped at a white door, where the paint was coming off in strips from the ravages of time and weather. Inside, the outline of a woman, milling about the kitchen. And a smaller figure, running around excitedly, following the woman.
He knocked three times and the woman's outline walked to the door, pushing back the child. The lock turned and the wizard's green eyes met the brown ones of a woman.
"It's you," she said.
From behind his back, he swung his gift, adorned with sharp thorns. "Happy to see me?" he said with a sly smile.
"Never," she answered with a grin, taking the roses from him. "Come in, if you can get past Teddy."
True to form, the young boy tackled him at the waist in the entrance, violet hair swinging as he cried out. "It's Harry!"
"It sure is," Harry said, lifting the boy up to his shoulder. "D'you miss me, you little terror?"
"You were asleep! For so long! Minie too!"
"And we came to visit and brought you gifts. Did you like them?"
The boy nodded enthusiastically. Teddy, Edward Lupin, was a very spirited young boy. He alternated between complete chaos and being blissfully absorbed in whatever new toy he obsessed with. Lately he'd been into the more intricate colouring books, ones with magical crayons that allowed for much more expressive designs. It was a new Zonko's product.
Harry played with him while Andromeda prepared tea, and by the time it was ready the boy was very occupied filling in a mean looking hag with his drawing implements.
"Really, how are you, Andy? We've barely had time to catch up."
"Very little happens in my life, Harry. With raising little Teddy and everything, time just seems to fly by. But yes, this old woman was quite distraught while you decided to have your little sleep."
Harry smiled at that and sipped from his tea. Andromeda Tonks was by far one of the strongest women he knew. A widow, losing a child, and now playing single mother to her grandson. With a rare kindness, loyalty and intelligence, she was everything you wouldn't expect from a Black. His weekly, and often more frequent visits were a welcome thing for the both of them.
"Andy, you don't look a day over twenty," he replied cheekily.
"Does your wife know you're such a flirt?" she said with a frown. "That is if you're still seeing her."
"Married or not, she knows my heart is yours."
She snorted. "I listened to your announcement. And then I listened to everyone talking in dark corners about the stink you made. You look good without the glasses. Contacts? Must be a new muggle thing, at least I haven't heard of it."
"In all honesty," Harry said, bending closer, "that was a lie. But I didn't really want to publicize me using the Black family library to fix my eyesight."
Andromeda's eyes went wide, revealing the slightest of wrinkles on her face. "Right then. I can see that." She shook her head. "Well at least something good came out of that horrid collection. You were careful, weren't you?"
"Of course," Harry said with a nod. "Actually Hermione did most of the work. I gave her access after the war ended, I guess with free time now she decided to take a look, well, we both did."
"Just keep your hands clean, all right?" she said with a half-mocking finger pointed at him.
"Always," he answered.
They watched Teddy who had gone over from his colouring book to a children's story book with large letters that sounded out the words as you touched them. He really was restless and eager to learn. Andromeda shifted her cup, she had a conflicted look about her.
"Something wrong?" Harry asked. "You know you can talk to me, right? If you need anything..."
"That's sweet, Harry, but no… You are seeing Ginny again?"
He nodded, curious as to where she was going with this. "We're taking it slow, trying to make it work."
She sighed heavily and tucked a sleek brown curl behind her ear. "Sorry, it's just that Ron came here a few days ago. He was asking all kinds of questions, like if I'd noticed anything with you two?"
"Us two? Hermione? Like what?"
"The way he was talking..." She hesitated for a moment, always worried about being the bearer of bad news. "It sounded like he thought you were having an affair."
Harry leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn't need Ron making trouble right now. "What did he say exactly?"
"That you were acting strange, and that Hermione was coming home late every night. But with what you've told me and with how you're in the run for the Wizengamot, I guess he's imagining things? He asked me if I had noticed anything. I said you seemed to be doing really well and that he was probably worrying for nothing."
"Thanks for telling me this," Harry said. "I should probably talk to him, I've just been crazy busy lately."
Harry tried to keep his cool, thinking about it all. But he had been thinking about Hermione lately, and the fact she was married to Ron. It just didn't sit right, despite what they'd promised each other. Two months of this tops, until the election was well over. And then...
"Harry, are you all right?"
He looked up and unclenched his fists. Shit.
"Harry," she said, inching closer and putting on a sympathetic smile. Her voice lowered to a whisper. "If you did have feelings for her, that wouldn't be the craziest thing in the world."
Harry laughed dryly and smiled at Andromeda. It was amazing how she could sniff out the problem so easily.
"She's married. I'm married."
"I always thought you married too young. Harry, maybe this thing with Ginny was a sign. You had problems before. I'm not saying it has to be her, but maybe this is an opportunity to reconsider?"
Harry glanced at his watch and winced at the time.
"Big date?" Andromeda joked.
"We're meeting with Simon Owen for a strategy meeting in twenty minutes."
"I don't want to keep you then," she said, taking the initiative to stand up and give him an out. "It's a good thing you're doing. I don't think I've told you yet. Not many people have the courage to shine a light on that kind of problem."
"Thanks, Andy." He pulled her in for a hug and walked over to say goodbye to Teddy.
-M-
He got called in Monday morning into Robards' office with Mathilda who he was currently partnered with. The news of his candidature, but more importantly his refusal to take the promotion offered to him on a silver platter, was something the Head Auror saw as a personal slight. Harry had expected that, and to face the consequences. Fortunately his cred with the Aurors was mostly untouched.
"Whad'ya think? New case?" Mathilda asked.
"Wouldn't get my hopes up. Running with me means you're tainted, Captain."
"As if a newbie like you could do anything for my reputation," she replied with a grin. "Hey," she lowered her voice, "get what you wanted from our sting in Barnton?"
"More than I bargained for. But yeah, it's all set up. We might need you to check back in sometime."
"Yeah, no problem. Do me a favour and gut those fuckers when you get the chance."
"That's the idea," he said nudging her with an elbow.
She preened her short and curly blonde hair before opening the door to Robards' office. He was looking over some papers and made them sweat it for a moment before he looked up.
"New case. Urgent. This morning a body was found in a magical borough in Norfolk. We have a witness being brought in who saw a suspect run from the premises. Also, I'm breaking you up."
Both Aurors tensed at the news. It meant one of them would lead the case without the other.
"Captain Greshaw, you will team up with Baxter and take lead on this. Take the portkey to the crime scene and get a handle on this case. Potter, you will go with Selander and comb the area for our suspect. The description is in the file."
He handed them both a parchment with the relevant information. They knew better than to protest, it would only make matters worse.
"Dismissed."
"This is bull," Mathilda mumbled when they were out of earshot.
"It'll pass," Harry said with a sigh. "It always does."
"Still, now you're stuck with that old scab of an Auror Martin. Talk about the bottom of the barrel."
There was no hiding his disappointment, as much as he'd like to stay cool. Martin Selander was on his way out and he knew it. To be partnered with him was being chained to a corpse. He didn't take his job seriously and would rather spend his time making your life difficult. A 'stickler for the rules' and a hypocrite, as he was one of the first to turn tail and run when the Ministry was being infiltrated during the war.
He found him near his cubicle looking for something. Harry might not be the most organized of Aurors but at least he knew where he put his stuff.
"Martin, we're heading out," he said, dropping the parchment on his desk.
Martin looked it over, his face as usual pressed in a grimace like he had just vomited in his mouth. He gave Harry a scornful look.
"So now I'm on busywork because of your little stunt?"
"Just grab your bloody things, will you?"
"You're not my boss, are you?" he answered flippantly. "You passed up that opportunity if I remember correctly."
Harry already felt the promise of an ulcer forming in his stomach. All the way to the apparition station, Martin kept his scowl, mumbling about cocky upstart glory-hounds and such all the way there. They apparated to the Norfolk rally point and went from there to the outskirts of the magical borough.
It was indeed busywork. The odds of a wizard staying in one place after a murder was about as likely as seeing a quidditch match without fouls. They set off scanning the surrounding fields, parks and muggle villages. 'Have you seen anything?' No, no, no, and no.
That was when at least Martin didn't almost break the Statute of Secrecy. The man reminded him of the jackasses in the Obliviator squads pre-reforms. Mind you they were still bad, but not nearly the level they used to be.
With nothing better to do they departed into a nearby nature park. They sent out detection spells as they went.
"Really, Potter, good job. You have to play the attention starved celebrity and I get stuck in the bloody muck."
He was starting to get a headache, and he hadn't packed a pepper-up.
"And your muggle-born friend," he said with disgust, "did you drag her into this or does she have a need for approval too?"
"Shut it!" Harry said, moving ahead.
Surprisingly there came no response. Harry stopped. It was quiet, too quiet.
He turned back and almost tripped over a root. Martin was gone. He couldn't spot him anywhere when seconds before he was just following behind. He ducked and hid behind a tree. Protocol when losing sight of your partner was to take cover in case of an attack. Nothing happened, he heard nothing, saw nothing, even with his magically enhanced vision. With annoyance Harry started to think the old bastard had apparated away when he was insulted by his reply.
Keeping an eye out he stood up. As he cast his Patronus, he felt strangely at peace. The stag appeared blindingly corporeal, he was sure he'd never seen it this bright. He shook his head, it didn't matter, he had to follow the rules and if Martin had screwed up, that would be on him.
"Code A-6 for Auror Selander on Auror Potter's position, requesting a backup team immediately."
He activated his beacon necklace and waited.
A few minutes later he heard the pops of Alfred and Mathilda's arrival.
"What happened?" she asked.
"Martin disappeared, out of bloody nowhere. He was no more than ten feet behind me."
"Shite," she cursed. "Apparition?"
"Not that I could hear, but that's not definite. I was thinking portkey trap, but hell, even Martin knows not to blindly pick up strange objects does he?"
"Right," Mathilda said, tapping her wand against her chin. "Robards said his beacon wasn't active. Let's search the area quick. I'm sure there's already a patrol being assembled to search his home and such."
She turned to him with small eyes and a frown. "You should probably go to HQ, clear you and everything."
"Sure thing," he said annoyedly. "Bet he's sitting in a pub somewhere complaining about having to work with competent people."
Back at Auror HQ, he was quickly rushed into the caring hands of fellow Aurors Brenton and Bigby by Robards.
"And use my office and pensieve," he added. "I want you two available as soon as possible."
They entered and Lawrence Bigby started his pointless standard forensics analysis. Detection of blood, priori incantatem. Finally they moved to the pensieve to review Harry's memory, which was as unhelpful as it had been in person.
"This is worrying," Tim Brenton said. "No sign of apparition."
"Has to be a portkey," Harry said. "Either trap or voluntary. Any word on his home and family?"
"His wife didn't see him," Lawrence said, taking a note from a patrol wizard. "He's effectively MIA."
"They have someone looking at his regular haunts? He might just be a pain as usual."
"That's pretty extreme, even for him," Tim said. "But they're checking as we speak. Plus the hunt for the wizard that killed the woman is still on. I hate to say it, but it might be related."
"You saw what I saw," Harry said. "Where am I needed?"
Tim shook his head. "Robards wants you here in case we need you for something else. You can set up in the break room, we need to be coordinating with patrol."
"Fine," Harry agreed reluctantly. It was crazy that with an Auror missing Robards still wanted him on the sidelines.
He took his cup to the break room and poured himself some tea and got a sandwich. This actually might be a boon, he could even catch a nap while the Selander situation got resolved. With his night time activities and evening planning he was seriously lacking rest. Having eaten and drunk something, he settled into the couch.
Just on the edge of sleep, he was jostled awake, looking up at none other than Hermione's smiling face. He righted himself, trying to flatten his hair.
"Hey! What's up?"
"Nothing, really. Sorry to wake you. I just heard all the hubbub and Bigby told me you were in the break room. Your partner went missing?"
"Please don't call him that," Harry groaned. "Yeah, Selander is gone and Robards benched me. Although to be honest, there's probably little to be done. His beacon wasn't activated."
"You're feeling okay?" she asked.
He could appreciate Hermione's concern, but it wasn't necessary. "I feel just fine. Tea?"
"Thanks."
They sat together as they drunk tea and he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, still groggy from his interrupted nap. She looked in good spirits and kept glancing at him, still brightly smiling. Her mood was infectious and he found himself smiling as well.
"I guess I forgot to mention it before, but we need to talk about Ron," he said.
She shifted closer to him. Their legs were touching; Harry wondered what she was playing at, not that he minded.
"Uhm. Andromeda pretty much told me he thought we were…" The way she was looking deep into his eyes made him lose his train of thought.
"That we were what?"
She was wearing her pink lip gloss again. Maybe he should buy her some more anyway, another colour. Something deeper and richer, like her eyes.
"That we were… having an affair. Or something."
"Ah," she replied in an uncharacteristically husky voice. "I wonder where he got that idea."
They dumbly chuckled and she furrowed her brow.
"So have you gotten news about your commissioned pensieve?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it should be done in a little more than a week. Why'd you ask?"
She shook her head and got up. "No reason. You have a good day?"
"You too."
Harry wasn't sure how long he sat there basking in the afterglow of a chipper Hermione, but by the time Mathilda and Alfred showed up the cup of tea he was holding was cold. They both had a tired look about them.
"News?" he asked.
She looked down, her blonde curls shading her eyes. "Martin was found dead on the other side of Litcham."
Harry stood up with a start. "Dead?"
"Yeah," Alfred said, "we weren't certain until we found his head."
"Merlin." Harry swallowed the news. "What happened?"
"Come on," Mathilda nodded towards the conference room. "We're setting up the investigation and could use your input."
The whole department was in an uproar. Martin Selander might not have been well-liked, but a dead Auror was bad news. It looked bad, and might give criminals ideas, that maybe they could turn their wand on someone with a badge and come out victorious. That wasn't usually the case, but criminals were by and large stupid.
Selander was found in a field sixteen kilometers from where he and Harry were conducting their search. Worse even was that there was no blood at the scene, suggesting he had been killed elsewhere and moved. So the killer was good enough to make portkeys. The search for the killer, presumed to be the same man responsible for the murder the past night, was still coming up empty.
It was going to be a long day. No one was going home early, so he sent a memo to Hermione that she might have to spend the evening at Grimmauld on her own.
