Ginny stood in Hermione's hospital room arguing with her brother. A familiar puff of smoke noted the entrance of Harry. He looked frantic.
He spoke quickly, "Ginny? Did you call me?"
Ginny nodded, "Yes I did, Harry! Hermione and Ron aren't letting us stay with them!" she exclaimed, her hands on her hips.
Harry exhaled, "I thought…it was an emergency!" he said shaking his head, "But Ron—why not?" Harry continued.
Ron looked at the floor, "Well, I think I can take care of myself and my family, that's all," he said, mumbling slightly.
Harry put a hand on his shoulder, "I know you can mate, all we're saying is that at this particular time...you need all the protection you can get. And Ginny will help too," he said, motioning his head towards her. She came over and held Ron's shoulders as well, and she smiled. Ron looked up to Hermione, who nodded, her eyes still damp.
Ron gave in, "Okay. Should we go then?" he asked quietly. They all nodded in agreement and started packing Hermione's things. As they walked towards the exit, Harry stopped walking abruptly.
"Oh shoot, I forgot my wand—Ron, will you come back with me to get it?" Harry asked, looking at Ron, who went back with him. They ushered the girls to go on without them.
Once they were back in the room Harry turned to Ron, "Ron, I didn't forget my wand but I need to talk to you," he said in a whisper.
Ron looked worried, "What is it?" he asked, dreading the answer.
"The Minister of special offenses gathered a team for me—" Harry started.
Ron cut him off, "Mr. Hawking? Yeah I know him through dad."
Harry continued, "Yeah—and I'm going to be working with them to find Andrew. They're honestly the best, mate. That's why I need to stay at your house—to keep an eye on Victoria," he finished, waiting to hear Ron's reaction.
Ron said nothing but, "Okay." They walked back to the telephone booth and were sent back to the mansion. They entered in the middle of the living room, where Hermione and Ginny had already arrived. Ginny sat with sat Hermione crying in her shoulder. The sound of children came from the room next to them. It appeared that everyone else had gone home. The girls looked up at their husbands who walked over and sat down on the couch across from them.
Hermione quickly wiped a hand across her eyes, "I'm sorry everyone, I know I must sound really annoying, crying all the time," she said sniffing.
Ginny shook her head, "No darling, we understand. You cry all you want," she soothed, rubbing her back. Hermione then stood up abruptly and walked quickly to the kitchen.
Ginny got up to run after her and Ron grabbed her, "No, Ginny. Leave her alone a while...to calm down." They all sat there in silence.
Harry weaved his fingers together and courageously started a conversation, "So, I've been thinking. And I think that really powerful magic is at hand here—and that the person who took your son is some sort of an Metamorphmagus, because he could change into your father. He also knew what your father looked like…"
"Yeah well, the whole bloody world does! He's the Minister of Magic and he's in the newspaper almost every day," Ron said, frustrated.
Harry snapped a finger, "Shoot, I forgot." They sat in silence for a minute.
Harry got up, "I need a drink," he said, exhaling slowly.
Ron looked up at him, "There's some butterbeer in the fridge," he said, leaning back on the couch. Harry nodded and left the room to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a frosty bottle of butterbeer. He stared out the window while it slipped down his throat. The sky outside was darkening and not a ray of sun was visible. Nothing is more important to me than my friends…, he thought. He'd had difficult cases, but none so personal. The thought of it made him angry, that someone was trying to hurt his friends. His fingers tightened around the bottle and the muscles in his arm went rigid. He sipped the last of the butterbeer and threw the bottle in the rubbish bin.
Still staring out the window, he talked to himself aloud, "What am I going to do?" he asked himself weakly. He turned around and sighed. Hermione's figure stood in the far doorway. She was staring at Harry, tears on the brink. Harry stared at her and slowly opened his arms. She hurried over to him fell into his arms. Harry held his best friend. She clutched his shirt and hugged him tightly. She didn't have to say anything, Harry understood what she trying to say and it was something along the lines of finding her son.
"Oh, Harry…" she sobbed.
"Don't worry Hermione, I'll find him," Harry vowed, holding her tightly. After a minute or two, they both looked up and their ears tuned in the sound of fighting children.
Hermione broke away, as she whispered, "Isabelle." She hustled over to the play room next to the kitchen. They scene was odd. James was standing away from Isabelle and Victoria who were at it. Victoria was on the floor, crying, and huddled in a bunch.
Isabelle was yelling at her, "I TOLD YOU NICK ISN"T REAL!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Hermione came in front of her, picked up Victoria and stroked her hair gently.
She turned to face Isabelle, "Isa, what's happening!"
Isabelle rolled her eyes, "She said that Nick is in her room." Hermione looked at Harry who closed his eyes.
"Oh no..." they both thought in unison.He broke into a run for Victoria's bedroom.
The door of Victoria's bedroom flung open, revealing the image of Harry's panting figure, wand at the ready. He crept in, his eyes scanning the room carefully, cautiously.
He muttered, "Lumos…" and the room was illuminated. He went for the open closet door and looked inside and—nothing. He breathed hard and stepped around the white four-poster bed, to the dresser. Misplaced jewelry and hair ribbons covered the table. Nothing was there as well. He stooped low and checked under the bed as well, which showed nothing but hat boxes and dolls. He stood up and tried to catch his breath a little. He retracted his wand, putting it back in his pocket. He still felt an odd presence in the room so his eyes were darting everywhere. Exhausted from running around everywhere, he sat on the bed for just a second…until a peculiar tingle aroused on the back of his neck. A blinding red flash of light made him jump up and spin towards the full-length mirror, his heart hammering. He barely had a chance to even realize what was going on when the glass split, cracked and shattered into a million pieces, flying towards him. He dove for the other side of the bed, his hands somewhat covering his jet black hair. He fell to the floor unconscious, with bits of glass wedged into crevices on his body that you could only imagine. The floor was littered with shards of glass jutting out from every fiber in the carpet, mirroring the reflection of the figure that stood over Harry's motionless form.