Chapter 18
"Kreacher, go back to sleep"
"Yes, Master Harry, I will ignore you and follow your orders."
Harry did not need the extra guilt from Kreacher so he allowed the house elf to bring him clean trousers and an oversized shirt while he performed his ablutions in the water closet. He had been running on adrenaline, caffeine and pepper-up potions for almost seventy-two hours. He had a short nap, maybe two hours of complete unconsciousness the day before between the third and fourth raids. In between raids, the DMLE prosecutors had interviewed the raiding parties for their perspective on what they saw and what they felt during the breeches. The second raid was a townhome just north of the city that had wards that the cursebreakers had managed to overpower without injuring themselves or the rest of the Aurors but had been a legitimate threat to the safety of anyone nearby as they came down.
He had shut down and entered a simple mode of prioritized survival and information regurgitation by the time his squad had returned from the fourth raid. They had started to raid the usual suspects that so far had been untouchable. However evidence that previously had been not quite enough to get the Minister and the Chief Warlock to sign a warrant had been combined with a few new scraps of hints and hopes and indica of possibilities that were enough for the raid to be authorized against a family that everyone strongly believed had funded Voldemort since the sixties while keeping their hands just clean enough to never be brought up on charges.
A dozen aurors portkeyed to a rally point two miles from the estate. The garage where they appeared was just outside of Nottingham. They punched through the wards in minutes. Someone had attempted to Apparate out of the target site as the first assault team went through the front door and the second team breached a wall. The backlash of the wards interacting with both breeching explosives and high powered charms and runes as well as the reflection of the failed apparition attempt had created a boom which Audrey Weasley, Percy's new wife, had spent the afternoon smoothing over with the Mundane authorities to find a reasonable excuse. Harry was the third man for the second team. An organ boiling curse missed him by inches. Half a dozen stunners, cutters, piercers and binders hit a naked fifty eight year old wizard. A few feet away from the now unconscious, bleeding and broken body bound by steel chains was a young child who looked at everyone with intense fear. Four minutes later, the house was secured. The child was soon whisked first to St. Mungos and then to a mundane hospital after the child had been given a few sips of a calming draft and his mind had been checked for compulsions and loyalty commands.
The witch who had failed in her escape attempt was now in a cell at the Ministry even as a too small squad of DMLE investigators started their initial child abduction and abuse and serial murder investigation. The early evidence was hideous. The family had hunted children, but never enough in any one spot for a pattern to occur to either Scotland Yard or DMLE. One child from Edinburgh, another from the East End, a pair from Belfast - the abuse would destroy the children and the family had a hundred years of skeletons in a hidden basement. Harry had vomited when he saw the ossuary.
Later that evening, a seventh raid had been launched. Harry was in the support element. The raid target had the door open and tea ready for the Aurors as she knew she would be a usual suspect and had a fondness for her house. They found nothing too unusual before the senior Aurors sent a dozen of the front line Aurors home for a mandatory twelve hour stand down with orders to make appointments for mind healers tomorrow once they returned to the office.
Harry stood in his shower for an hour as he tried to wash the past few days with hot water. He would have fallen asleep there with the water pouring on his head if Kreacher had not politely knocked with a steaming cup of tea. The old elf looked at his master and shook his head at his failure to take care of himself. Kreacher would not punish himself for not enabling his master to be at his best because of a direct order but he felt shame at his failure. Finally, Harry turned off the hot water and made himself ready for bed.
Ginny was curled up underneath the covers. Her hands clutched the edge of the quilt that Molly had gifted them just last Christmas. Her daughter was a woman and the bed that she shared with her chosen partner needed a warm quilt. Ginny would pull it out when she had a rough night and needed to feel her mother's love even if she was unable to get a hug or a touch of tea with Molly. Her face was relaxed and her breathing slow and deep even as her knees almost touched her chest. Harry sat on the bed next to his love and lover and began to gently stroke her hair. She barely responded but Harry's fingers ever so lightly felt the friction of her long hair and then he massaged her scalp and a little whimper of relaxation involuntarily escaped from Ginny's lips.
Her eyes fluttered open. She took in Harry hungrily.
"Do you need to talk?"
"Yes, but not tonight. I need to hold you and sleep… we can talk in the morning, I have orders to not show up to the office until after lunch." He lifted the blankets and slid into bed with Ginny even as she rolled over onto her hip and reached behind to pull Harry's left arm over her body. The two soon were asleep, their chests rising in unison and their heartbeats dropping as together they would fight their nightmares.
