London

October 9, 2006

Harry's entire body ached, and he groaned as he blinked his eyes open. The harsh fluorescent lights and soft beeping were soon replaced by a stern face and jumbled words that took a moment to translate in his addled mind. "Mr. Potter – are you awake?"

He mumbled incoherently and attempted to nod his head as consciousness returned to him. He blinked once more and saw his glasses being handed to him. He accepted them with a mumbled thanks, put them on, and made an effort to sit up.

He now recognized Daphne to his right, sitting on a chair next to his bed and holding his hand, her face a cross between fear and relief. Behind Daphne, his father sat against the wall, looking alert with his ubiquitous blue notebook, his eyes purposefully focused just to the right of Harry.

"Mr. Potter – can you please look into the light?" The woman to his left was speaking again. He obediently turned his head to face her and followed her commands. He assumed, based on her attire, she was a nurse.

"What happened? Where am I?" Harry asked the room, beginning to get his bearings.

"Harry," Daphne squeezed his hand, "someone planted a bomb in your office. You managed to shield yourself to avoid the brunt of the blast but you were still knocked around a bit."

"You're in London Central," the nurse confirmed. Harry nodded in acceptance, now recognizing the logo on her apron. "You've been unconscious overnight – with a severe concussion, along with superficial abrasions and a dislocated shoulder," the nurse listed methodically, while scanning Harry with a wand.

He nodded and turned to the door to see two men enter – one of whom he vaguely recognized. "Robards?" he heard his father remark. Ah, Harry thought – Auror.

"Potter," the man, Robards, nodded back before turning towards the magical nurse, "can we speak to him?"

"I've just finished my assessment – he's healing nicely. You may speak to him now." She nodded before abruptly departing. Harry had the opportunity to take in the two newcomers in his hospital room. The first, Robards, appeared maybe ten years his father's senior. The man, whom Harry was sure would tower over him if he was standing, had the haunting eyes and visible scars he expected of an Auror. He did not wear a robe, a somewhat progressive statement for one of his generation. He instead boasted a non-magical suit – only the Auror pin on his left breast, the wand crossed with a gavel, gave away his position.

The other man stood nearly a foot shorter. He had a disarming smile and looked younger than Harry, with clean cut dirty blonde hair and a pin striped suit. Harry surmised he must be a non-magical – most likely a detective.

"What can I do for you?" Harry asked, clearing his throat and adopting his politician persona.

"Representative Potter," Robards started, "I'm not sure if you remember me, we met when you were very young. I used to work with your father." Harry nodded in acknowledgement, urging him to continue, "My name is Gawain Robards. This," he pointed to the man to his right, "is Lester Fox. We have been assigned to investigate the bombing of your office."

The other man – Fox – spoke, "We've completed a preliminary investigation and have found evidence that the device is non-magical in origin and appears to be home made." He paused, briefly looking at Robards before turning back to Harry. "We are currently working to identify the different parts used to build the bomb, hoping it will lead us to the bomb maker."

"Do you have any idea who would have done this?" Daphne asked, her frown and tone betraying her worry.

Robards shook his head, "Not at this time – we were hoping you could help us with that. Have there been any threats on your life? Perhaps… do you have any enemies we should know about?"

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "The election was very contentious – but I can't imagine even the isolationist faction would go to such lengths." He blinked and turned towards his father, whose attention was still on Robards.

"Do you all think it was magicals or non-magicals?" James Potter asked.

Robards and Fox looked at one another briefly before Fox responded, "We have not reached any conclusions yet but, given the nature of the attack, it seems rather unlikely it was a wizard."

"But that doesn't make sense," Daphne started, "Harry is a fervent supporter of peace between the magicals and non-magicals! Why would someone do this?"

"Daphne." Harry turned to her, "you know it's not that simple."

"But it's not right." Daphne frowned, clearly stressed. Harry gently rubbed circles into her palm and felt her relax.

Robards cleared his throat. "Well thank you for your time – we'll leave you be for now. In the meantime," Robards paused and beckoned someone to enter, "a Corps officer has been assigned for your protection. This is Ginevra Weasley."

The officer walked in, head to toe in formal Corps garb – a dark green suit with the appropriate pins confirming she was an Officer and a witch. Harry was surprised at how young she looked – her pale face covered in freckles and her eyes a soft hazel. Her hair, a deep red, was pulled out of her face and sat under the beret required of an Officer. She quickly saluted.

"It's nice to meet you Ginevra," Harry stated, a little uncomfortable with the formality. "At ease?"

She smiled and relaxed just slightly before responding, "You as well, and please, call me Ginny."

"Ginny." He nodded in confirmation. "I don't mean to be rude but aren't you a little young for this assignment?" He felt Daphne give him a chastising smack in his arm and heard the non-magical, Fox, chuckle under his breath.

Robards chose to respond, "While ordinarily your assessment would be correct, given your own youth, we felt it more appropriate to assign someone your age to accompany you. So she would be capable of 'blending in' if need be." Harry gave Ginny another once over, dubious of the witch's ability to blend in, but nodded in acceptance.

The Auror and detective headed out, leaving only the four magicals in the room. Ginny stood awkwardly, obviously attempting not to fidget much, to the amusement of Harry. "You can sit if you like." Harry gestured towards one of the chairs scattered throughout the oversized hospital room.

"I'm not sure if I should." She frowned.

"Is this your first assignment?" Daphne asked, smiling at the younger woman.

"Well – I was stationed at Cambridge for a while – but yes, this is my first assignment." Ginny confirmed, her cheeks reddening.

"I'm sure you'll do great." Daphne tried to reassure her.

"Thank you." Ginny went ahead and took a seat, fidgeting for a moment before sitting still. James Potter looked up from his notebook and frowned at the Officer.

"Are you a Weasley?" he asked, head cocked.

Harry and Daphne recognized the curiosity in his voice and immediately turned to watch the conversation play out. "Yes. What of it?" she asked as if she got the question a lot.

James' face softened so slightly that only Harry noticed, "I knew your parents – good people. I was very sorry to hear they didn't make it."

Ginny swallowed and nodded, "Thank you."

"Weasley?" Daphne mumbled, as if trying to remember a long forgotten memory. "Any relation to Percy Weasley?"

Ginny's mood quickly turned and she rolled her eyes. "Yes - technically speaking – he's my older brother. One of 6."

"Percy?" Harry gave a small laugh but was elbowed lightly by Daphne in the ribs. "I'm injured, witch!" he joked, continuing to chuckle.

Daphne attempted to explain, "We deal with him a lot in parliament – he can be a bit..." she paused trying to find the word, but Ginny interrupted her.

"Obtuse?" she suggested, eyebrows raised.

Harry broke down into laughter and even Daphne snorted.

"Thanks," Harry smiled widely, "I needed that." He finished laughing and wiped tears from his eyes. Ginny gave a shy smile and sat up straight, as if suddenly remembering her place. "Any idea how long I'm stuck here?" he asked Daphne.

"They said yesterday you would have to stay at least 24 hours due to the concussion," she informed him, raising her hand as he opened his mouth to complain. "You just survived a bombing attempt! You will stay in that bed and follow orders."

"Aye aye, captain." He rolled his eyes but nonetheless complied, lying back down and trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach that this was only just beginning.

Robards and Fox took a taxi to Central Justice a couple kilometers south of the hospital. Robards looked over his notes, unsurprised the trip to the hospital did not yield any new leads, "What did you think of Greengrass?" Robards asked suddenly.

"Her worry seemed real," Fox stated after mulling it over a moment. "Unless she's the world's greatest actress, I struggle to imagine she had any part in it."

Robarts 'hmmd' in agreement, swiping Daphne's name on the charmed paper and moving it to the bottom of the list. "I think we should still look into her though," Fox continued. "She's right – Potter doesn't seem a likely target of non-magicals. Maybe she was the target."

"Why?" Robards asked. He and Fox had been partners for two years. At first, Robards had dismissed the non-magical detective as young and inexperienced. But Fox proved his value – unlike Aurors, their non-magical counterparts were expected to be more brains than brawns. While Robards excelled at hunting down the culprit once identified, or getting them out of a jam, he'd come to rely on Fox for his insights and investigative skill. Robards found with the magical and non-magical so mixed together, things weren't nearly as straightforward as they once were.

"I'm not sure, to be honest. It's a long shot - I just have a gut feeling that she is involved in some way." And that was another thing Robards learned not to dismiss – his partner's gut.

The pair entered the old building – a solid stone structure that managed to survive the two years between the Event and the formation of the WEA. Robards didn't know what kind of 'museum' it had been prior to being repurposed as Central Justice, but he still appreciated the building's inherent feeling of history.

Robards was a Senior Auror and idolized to by many of the younger magicals in the department. It was why he had stopped wearing a robe – he wanted to set an example, that he had moved on while so many of his colleagues continued to long for the 'good ol' days' and compared their lot in life to that of their youth. As he and Fox worked their way through the facility, they fielded a few questions, magicals and non-magicals alike curious about the one and only Harry Potter.

Robards and Fox reached their office, a small space with two desks and a large white board against a wall. Robards immediately started making notations on the board while Fox left to check if forensics had any information yet on the bomb. It had been made very clear to them by their superiors that this case would take priority over all else.

"We got the preliminary analysis back on the bomb," Fox announced after shutting the door. "The initial assumption was correct – no indication of any magical residue. It looks to have been crudely put together. It appears that barium nitrate was the active ingredient," Fox finished, taking off his glasses and looking at the white board.

"Barium nitrate? I don't recall ever coming across it," Robards commented while fumbling through some other papers on his desk.

Fox looked thoughtful before snapping his fingers and switching on his computer. After a moment, he was connected to the department's internal network and purposefully searching for something. "I knew I recognized it!" he started, beckoning Robards over. "It was used in a French terrorist attack."

"The French?" Robards asked now, taken aback. What would they care about Potter?

"It's a French radical fundamentalist group. Their leader – Michel Pierre – was a scientist before the Event, interestingly enough. My guess is he took particular issue with the fact that magic made all of his assumptions moot," Fox hypothesized with a shrug. "We don't know the group's name – but historically they've kept to France – typically conducting terrorist attacks against non-magical leaders they deem 'too cozy with magic'."

Robards rolled his eyes – he never understood the fundamentalists or their goals for that matter. "Any ideas, based on their history, why this group would be targeting Harry Potter?"

Fox shrugged, "Most people view Harry Potter as a savior of sorts. The fundamentalists have always been hostile towards him – the WEA weakened their position, and Potter's role in the formation of the WEA is legendary. But to go after Harry Potter? They must know how seriously this would be taken." He shook his head.

"Okay – let's take a step back," Robards suggested. "Instead of focusing on the bomb and possible suspects, let's focus on Potter – what do we know?"

Fox nodded his head. "Harry Potter, aged 26, wizard." He started by running through the basics, "Elected the English Magical at-large representative to WEA parliament at the age of 24 – the youngest WEA representative ever.

"Born in Godric's Hollow in 1980 to James and Lily Potter. Mother died when he was 10. Attended a mixed magical/non-magical secondary school before beginning a career in public service. Spotless record as far as I can tell." Fox paused. "His known enemies are political in nature – the isolationists, as well Elijah Parkinson's separatist faction."

Robards added 'Elijah Parkinson' to their board. "OK – but what else?"

"He publicly announced his engagement to Daphne Greengrass two years ago." Fox was now reading through various papers and other documentation that had been gathered that morning. "The pair met at school – the only magicals in their class – and have been inseparable since. Greengrass appears to be his most trusted political advisor," he finished.

"What about the Greengrasses in general?" Robards asked with a small frown.

"Anton Greengrass, CEO of Magitech, is publicly a big supporter of Potter. His wife, Denise, was killed in a magical explosion caused by a group of isolationists just after the formation of the WEA." Fox stated, "He also has a second daughter, Astoria, whom he sent to a magical school."

"Why would he send his children to different schools?" Robards wondered aloud.

Fox shrugged, "Honestly, it's not that uncommon in the non-magical world. Parents will send their kids to different schools depending on their skill set or interests. It's possible Daphne wanted to go to a school with non-magicals but Astoria didn't."

"OK so the Greengrasses are closely tied to Potter – both personally and politically," Robards concluded succinctly. "What other known allies?"

Fox nodded. "The Longbottoms have publicly always been very close to the Potters."

"I've noticed you've been making a point to say 'publicly' quite a bit – is there something I'm missing?" Robards interrupted.

Fox tilted his head to the side. "Harry Potter has lived in the spotlight since he was ten years old. I can only imagine people have been working to get in his good graces since then. The only information we have is public data – newspaper clippings and gossip. Frank Longbottom and James Potter have been seen laughing at dinner – but what happens when the cameras turn away?" He paused. "I'm not trying to say there's necessarily something nefarious happening with Harry Potter himself – only that in this case, I think we need to take our data with a grain of salt."

Robards nodded thoughtfully, looking at the board. "The Longbottoms had a son Harry's age – didn't they?" he asked.

Fox nodded, "Yes – Neville Longbottom – killed tragically sometime after the Event. No one is really sure what happened. There are no good records from that time," he confirmed.

"Did we get Potter's voting records yet?" Robards asked. Fox went and checked their inbox, grabbing a large manila envelope.

"Well – it looks like we got every single voting record we could ever want." He rolled his eyes and started skimming through the materials. "It will take me a while to really get through these – but I can tell you based on news clippings, he's a staunch supporter of the Corps and has been notoriously pro-cooperation with non-magicals," Fox detailed.

"He was speaking on a bill yesterday, right?" Robards asked, trying to recall what it was about.

"Yes," Fox confirmed, grabbing a paper from another pile, "it was a bill to provide an additional WEA$100 million in funding to the Corps to expand their research facilities to address the declining birth rate. Huh," he paused, pulling the paper closer to his face, "he said during his speech that the birth rate has declined to zero."

"What?" Robards startled, moving over to where Fox was standing and looking over his shoulder in confirmation. "Why wasn't this news?"

Fox shrugged, "Because minutes later someone tried to kill him?"

Robards could feel the start of a headache coming on and popped a few aspirin, which he considered one of the great non-magical inventions. "OK. I'll reach out to Paris and see about apprehending Pierre. Meanwhile, why don't you keep digging?" Fox nodded and Robards headed out, hands massaging his temples and, not for the first time, wishing some other unlucky bastard had been assigned this case.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for reading. As always, I appreciate any reviews/feedback.

And a big thanks as always to my beta ElizColl!