Hey guys, here the next chapter! I'm really proud of this one so I hope you all like it.
Thank you so much to SunriseImagination for Betaing this story for me. Definitely, go check out her story.
And thank you to all of you that have taken the time to Favourite/Follow and review this story. You guys are what pushes me to write. Thank you! xoxo
Now on to the chapter!
Chapter 9
November 29th - 30th
Friday-Saturday
~oOo~
The quill raced rapidly across a scrap of parchment, the ink smearing and blotches of the dark substance speckling the already almost eligible scrip.
He had to hurry. There wasn't much time.
They had to know.
The man shook in nervousness, his eyes wide as he wrote, forcing himself not to look up as the sound of voices and footfalls came closer and closer.
Snatching the note from the table, the man shoved it into the small hollow tube tied to the owl's leg. He secured the cap, picked up the bird, tore to the window, and threw it open.
The night air was chill and silent. The waning moon shined down on the snow-packed earth. But the young man did not have the time to admire; he had been found out and they were after him.
"Find him, my girl, find Harry Potter."
The owl nodded its head solemnly. She gave his finger the tenderest of nips and tilled her soft head against his hand, her blue eyes sad.
A final goodbye.
"Farewell Athena."
With a last look at her friend and partner for the past ten years, Athena spread her wings and took off into the cold dark night.
She was gone before the man could blink.
But it was all that was needed for them to find him.
Three large men came in with mangled faces and muscles larger than their torso. He fired spell after spell, each one blocked, before one man punched him square in the stomach. The young man doubled over coughing. Bam! Snap! Another punch to the gut and one to his face. He felt the blood trickling down his chin.
A hand gripped his hair and yanked his head back. Two more gripped his arms and twisted them tortuously behind him. He was pushed to his knees, overpowered. His side was on fire, it was difficult to breathe, and his jaw was probably broken.
There was no fighting them off. Even with all his Auror training, he could not see a way out of this one.
The man's attention was drawn to the woman standing casually against the door frame and he growled deep in his throat. Her raven hair was long and sleek, pulled up into elegant braids while the rest fell down her back. Her eyes were doe-like and electric blue, and her slim yet curvy frame was dressed in formfitting black jeans and a red leather jacket.
She smirked. Then, pushing smoothly off the wall she walked over to the desk he had been writing on. She gazed down, eyes calculating, at the still wet ink before running her hand pensively across the surface.
"Take his wand."
The man struggled and spat curses as a hand reached and pulled his precious wand out of his grip. A cold dread seeped into him at the sight of the gorilla-of-a-man holding his only weapon.
"Grey Albertson," she purred. "Funny, I wasn't aware that people were pronouncing it John nowadays. Or is that just your family's take on it?" She looked over at him, and when he gave no answer she smiled. "Either way, I've had Grey Albertson, or John Low whatever you prefer, looked into. And surprise surprise, with a bit of digging I found that there is a Grey Albertson working at the ministry matching your description." She paused, looking at the parchment at the edge of the table. She reached over and touched it lightly, but then dismissed it with a shake of her head. "Tell me. Do you have any idea how a young man the same age as you, with the same face and name, happens to work for the Ministry?"
The young spy didn't answer, eyes hard and unveiling. Suddenly his side ruptured into pain from a kick aimed at his ribs. Grey coughed and gagged, knowing his rib was now cracked.
"Get your thugs off me," Grey seethed, baring bloodied teeth.
"No, I don't think I will... Because you see Mr Albertson, you've double-crossed me and I don't like being double-crossed."
She moved forward, her high-heeled boots clicking on the floor, and crouched down in front of his kneeling form.
"I have to admit Mr Albertson, you did well. Even I believed you were who you said you were." She lifted a hand and traced a blood red painted fingertip along his jaw, her next words coming out in a soft whisper. "For a while."
Her hand moved and cupped his jaw. He growled and tried to jerk his head out of her grip only to have the goon behind him tighten his iron hold on his hair, forcing him to stay still.
Her eyes turned thoughtful and her smile faded slightly. Her finger moved and just the tip of it traced his bottom lip.
"Such a pity." She said softly before lowering her hand and standing. "Take him to the vault."
~oOo~
Harry groaned and rolled over, glaring accusingly at the owl pecking at his window.
"Oh, bloody hell," Ginny moaned pulling a pillow over her face in exasperation. "I'm telling you now Harry if he sends you one more bloody letter at two in the morning I'm moving out."
"I know. I'm sorry, love." Harry said leaning over and giving her a kiss.
"You'd think you were the ruddy Minister of Magic! Can he make even one decision without asking you about what you think first?! Arrggg!"
Harry gave a light chuckle. Yes, Ginny was being a little over the top, but even he had to admit that the Ministers late night letters were starting to get annoying.
He moved over to the window and pulled it open, allowing the owl to move inside. It was then that Harry noticed this was not the Minister's large tawny owl, but rather a beautiful brown and red breed with ice blue eyes he did not know.
Her small breast heaved up and down as though she had flown a far distance very quickly.
Harry tensed. This wasn't right.
"Ginny, this owl needs water and she's probably hungry as well," Harry said moving to unscrewing the tube that held the letter.
Ginny sat up in bed behind him, her eyes no longer sleepy at the sound of his tone. She didn't argue and got up to do as he asked, coming back a moment later from the bathroom with a small cup of water and some owl food.
After a few moments of struggling, Harry got the cap off and took out the small piece of torn parchment. Ginny moved up beside Harry as he started to unravel the paper and she let out a soft gasp of horror when she saw what was written, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.
Harry, I've been outed. Don't come for me it's too late. Items go out Dec 31. Midnight. They have locations everywhere. That's all I could find out. I'm sorry, I tried.
Please do one thing for me. Tell Anne I love her.
-Grey
Harry stared down at the barely readable note. No matter how many times his eyes scanned the words he couldn't make them make sense. His mind refused to believe that what the note implied could be true.
Just then the fireplace in their room glowed, green flames alerting them to an incoming message. Both Harry and Ginny jumped before Harry dashed across the room and knelt in front of the flames. A face appeared in them.
"Harry."
"Ron, what's going on?"
Ron's face was tight and stressed. "Somethings happened, you need to come in."
Harry paused, feeling his throat tighten, scared to ask but needing to know.
"It's Grey isn't it."
A long silence. "Yes," finally came the reply, "he's been found mate and…. I'm sorry Harry. Grey Albertson is dead."
~oOo~
It was a mess. Papers everywhere. People rushing here and there. Aurors arriving by floo. The ministry going back and forth between the heads of departments. And in the midst of it, Ron Weasley was just trying to do his job.
"Robin, get those reporters out of here! And for Merlin's sake put guards on the lifts so they stop coming up!"
A woman in Auror robes to his right saluted. "On it sir. Jim! Get your lazy arse over here and help!"
As the reporters were herded away, Ron turned back to the massive projection in front of him. It was the entire case. And considering that barely any of the space was occupied, that wasn't saying much.
"Mr. Weasley, you have a floo call from Healer Lynde. She-"
"Tell her that I can't talk at the moment, Patty. We'll have to reschedule the meeting." Ron said off-handedly his eyes scanning the board.
"Sir she-"
"Ron!"
At the sound of Harry's voice, Ron turned his head looking over his shoulder to see his best friend pushing through the crowds to get to him.
Harry looked rough. His glasses and robes were askew and Ron was sure he could see his nightshirt peeking out from the top. And his hair. Ron didn't think Harry's hair had achieved that level of defying gravity since their school days.
"What is all this?" Harry asked, finally making it to Ron, Patty long forgotten in the crowd. "What are all the departments doing here? I thought you said you found the body? Why are we here and not at the site?"
Ron sighed, running a hand through his hair. "When I said found I meant more like stumbled upon," At Harry's confused look Ron let out another sigh. "Come on I'll show you."
Harry followed Ron as he slipped through the crowd some parting in respect for their superiors. But there were so many people that there wasn't much space to move. The two men were forced to squeeze by.
When they turned and started down the hallway that led to the higher up Auror offices Harry's frown deepened and he only became more confused when they stopped by his office door, clearly marked: H. Potter. Head of Auror Dep.
When Ron pushed open the door to reveal about half a dozen people carefully walking about his office, their wands moving about in slow movements Harry knew were scanning spells.
"Oi! I told you not to come- Oh Potter." Harry looked over at the sudden voice.
Draco Malfoy stood from where he had been crouching on the floor and Harry was suddenly aware of a long black bag on the floor.
One with a very human-like outline. One where the top half was unzipped, showing what, who, was inside.
Harry turned and properly emptied his stomach contents all over the floor of the hall.
It wasn't like he had never seen death. Frankly, he had seen more than most. The war had done that to him. His job had done that to him. It wasn't even like he had never seen torture victims. He had learned to tolerate some gruesome things in his line of work. Mangled bodies and slashed skin did not affect him as much as it once did.
But this. This was too much.
He had trained Grey. Had been there through all four years of his coaching. Had even gone to his wedding. Grey, like all those he trained, had become like family. These were the people he spent all his days with, were the boys he watched grow into men. Hell, he even invited them over for Christmas every year.
Seeing him still so young, once so full of life, laying there with his face so badly beaten he was hardly recognizable, tore and twisted Harry's heart until he didn't know if he could take the pain.
Harry knew people were staring. The crowded floor seemed far too quiet replacing the unbearable noise that had been going on, and Harry knew he was the reason for the silence.
It was a strong hand on his shoulder, demanding and unrelenting that kept Harry from breaking down. That hand guided him back down the hall, stepping over the mess he had made, and through the parted crowd to the lifts.
The next thing Harry knew they were standing in a garden, overlooked by a large but cosy looking house. It was cold. The snow all around them untouched by humans, and in the east, the sun was dimly rising causing the earth to shimmer in its wake.
"Alright, Potter?" Draco's voice was gentle, unlike anything Harry had ever heard from him. The hands on his shoulders were no longer rough but a soft pressure of reassurance.
"I'm fine," came the gruff reply. But the tears rolling traitorously down his cheeks told a different story.
Draco sighed, "course you are."
Harry watched as Draco walked to the nearby bench. He cleared the snow with a flick and sat down pulling from his pocket a pack of cigarettes. A flash of flames and then smoke rose in soft wisps.
Harry didn't know how he found himself accepting the smoke Draco offered, or how the other man-made him spill everything on his mind without saying a word. Maybe it was the uncommon gentleness earlier, or maybe it was the fact that for once in his life Draco Malfoy had agreed with him, but all of a sudden Harry was just crying and telling the man that used to be his enemy every ache and pain in his heart.
But Draco Malfoy was no longer the boy of his youth, and neither was Harry. The war had been hard on them both, they had both lost someone along the way. Voldemort had taken something or someone from everyone, but much more from the youth of the time. They had grown up with that loss and it had changed them. They all had lost their childhoods and that messed some up. But some, like Harry and like Draco, hid their pain because they knew that nothing and no one could ever truly help them be rid of it. Because no matter how much time passed, or how good life got, the past would always be a dark shadow and that was something no one could escape.
"He was too young," Harry whispered, eyes on the ground, the smell of smoke stinging his nostrils. "He was only just married. They were planning a life together. It's not fair. Why is he gone and I'm still here? Dammit, he still had his life to live. Why is it him in that black bag and not me?"
Draco looked out over his garden, at the rising sun and the clouds in the distance. "We can't try and find sense in life Harry. It was his time to go. He knew what he was getting into, and he still went. He made his choices. All we can do is just keep making ours and hope that they're the right ones."
Harry knew he was right, but it didn't hurt any less. "It's not fair. They were going to have a child. A little girl."
Draco's heart tightened and he closed his eyes, knowing that there was nothing he could say to that. He leaned back, bringing the cigarette up to his lips and taking a deep drag. He let it out and the smoke clouded his vision for a moment. "No, Potter" he finally agreed, "but life has never been fucking fair."
