London
October 19, 2006
It had been a week since Astoria had told Daphne of her engagement, and Daphne had yet to tell Harry about it.
What her father had done, and what Astoria intended to do, was not necessarily illegal so much as it simply flew in the face of everything Harry fought for. She rationalized to herself that nothing positive could come out of telling Harry. As far as the general public was concerned, Astoria was to be shipped off to Germany to marry a wealthy wizard; the only people who knew the truth, that she was really going to Scotland to marry a Death Eater, were Astoria, Daphne, and their father. Anton had coordinated with various WEA security officials to allow Astoria access to an apparition zone. In a week, Astoria would be gone and no one would think anything of it.
Daphne still failed to understand her father in this. If you had to describe Anton Greengrass in one word, it would be practical. If given a second, then perhaps fastidiously practical. He didn't enter into business arrangements without knowing all of the facts and risks. And this was not a business arrangement – this was the marriage of his youngest daughter.
And this was why she needed to tell Harry – because she needed his help to figure out what made her father behave in a way that seemed, at the outset, irrational.
"Daphne." She was pulled from her thoughts when the man in question appeared, hanging over her cubicle. Harry flashed a card from his pocket that she immediately recognized. Before falling asleep that fateful night a week ago, Harry had told her excitedly about Ron Weasley – the man who wanted to bring back Quidditch.
Harry had been quite excited by the prospect of sports and mentioned the ad hoc football games that Ron organized, so she had been supportive and promised her uncommonly nervous fiancée that she would accompany him. "Now?" she asked, looking at her watch that indicated it was only 2pm.
"Yes!" he exclaimed. She saw Ginny roll her eyes, standing at attention 3 meters away. Daphne gave the woman a hesitant smile - she hadn't been blind to the growing camaraderie between Harry and the Officer. It left her feeling something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Jealousy perhaps – but not truly. She felt as though she was reaching the end of an era, and she was grasping to hold on to what was.
Because what else could this moment be, if not an ending, or a new beginning, depending on how one looked at it? Her father was up to something - she felt reasonably confident of that. Her sister was leaving, presumably forever unless something drastically changed in their lifetime. And as she watched her best friend sneak glances at his bodyguard when he thought no one was looking - well, she suddenly felt quite lonely. As though the world was spinning and she was just standing there, waiting for someone to push her.
"But it's 2pm!" she told him, pointing at her watch and shaking herself out of her melancholy.
He rolled his eyes. "Last I checked, I'm technically your boss. Let's go!" He grabbed her arm and she playfully swatted him, demanding a minute to straighten up her workspace and lock away any confidential documents. Finally, she stood up and power walked to keep up with his bouncing steps, Ginny trailing purposefully behind them.
"Where are we going?" Daphne asked.
"Hyde Park, it's not far from here." Harry tugged Daphne forward and out of the parliament building. It was a beautiful Fall day – a rarity in London where it was neither cold nor rainy. Daphne and Harry walked the few blocks to the park, and if Daphne squinted her eyes just right, she could imagine they were truly happy and carefree. Harry's excitement was contagious and she smiled for him without much effort, her worries taking a back seat to the moment.
When they reached the pitch, Daphne almost gasped at the sight before her – men and women of all ages strewn about, footballs being kicked back and forth. She felt the inklings of a memory from her childhood, watching boys up in the sky placing a ball through a hoop. She instinctively placed a hand over her heart, moved by the scene before her, how if you squinted just right it seemed normal.
She gripped Harry's elbow. "Harry this is…" she trailed off.
"Incredible," he accurately described. He gave her a smile and, seeing eyes looking their way, a gentle kiss on her forehead before transfiguring his outfit into something more appropriate and running towards a red headed man in the middle of the field. Daphne and Ginny migrated to where a group of spectators had formed, though Ginny was eyeing the entire pitch warily.
"Is something wrong?" Daphne frowned.
"Oh no," Ginny clarified, giving her a tight smile. "It's just – the pitch is very exposed."
"You don't think he would be targeted here?" Daphne asked.
Ginny shrugged. "I try to always be on alert – 'Constant vigilance'," she emphasized.
Daphne sat on a blanket she had transfigured from a handkerchief while Ginny paced nearby, occasionally checking out various entrances and exits and casting security spells so she would be alerted in case of an intruder. Once Ginny seemed satisfied the pitch was as secure as could be, she returned to sit with Daphne. "So," Ginny broke the silence, "is he any good?" She nodded towards Harry.
Daphne raised her eyebrows as she considered this. "He would play here and there in secondary school. No formal school sports teams were around back then, but you know boys – they can't help themselves." She shrugged. "I honestly don't recall if he was particularly good or not. Just that he loved it." Daphne smiled softly and Ginny nodded.
Eventually, the games were set up, and Harry was wearing a purple jersey playing on the field closest to them. Ginny thought Daphne's assessment was spot on – he clearly wasn't the best but his smile was contagious.
"Ginny!" shouted a man coming from the pitch. Daphne noticed the redhead from earlier walk up to them, and she realized this must be the Ron Weasley that Harry told her about.
"Ron," Ginny beckoned for her brother to join them. Ron sat off to the side of the blanket, attempting to discreetly check out Daphne. "This is Daphne Greengrass – Harry's fiancée." Ginny introduced them.
Daphne politely held her hand out and smiled. "So you're the infamous Ron Weasley," she said as they shook hands.
"Infamous?" Ron questioned, looking towards Ginny who merely shrugged.
"Yes. Harry wouldn't stop talking about you and your sports. He thinks you're brilliant," Daphne told him. Ron's mouth hung upon and he sat speechless, staring at the woman. Daphne took a moment to analyze the man, now up close. Beyond his red hair he had a stocky build with a kind face that seemed perpetually in a playful smile. With the exception of his hair color, Ron didn't seem to share any characteristics with his tall and lanky brother Percy.
"You trying to catch flies?" Ginny smirked. Ron immediately closed his mouth and glared at his sister.
"So Ron, Harry tells me your dream is to bring back Quidditch." Daphne interrupted the sibling spat.
Ron's face lit up. "Yeah – the current sporting regulations ban the use of brooms for recreational use. I'm hoping to lobby to make an exception."
"Isn't that dangerous?" Daphne asked, genuinely curious. The ban on recreational flying was in direct response to isolationist terrorist activities in the early days of the WEA.
"Everything is dangerous," Ron pointed out. "The Event was 17 years ago, and the WEA was formed 15 years ago. I understand why such prohibitions were enacted then – we were fighting for bare survival. But now – I think we need to live."
"You know we face a threat now potentially even graver than the one 17 years ago," Daphne pointed out.
"The birth rate?" Ron clarified. Daphne nodded. "Well, sure, but what can I do about it? And what's a prohibition on broomsticks going to do about it?" he pointed out.
"It's not about what we can do about it – it's what's going to happen in five to ten years if there are still no births. What happens when the oldest generation far outnumbers the youngest? Who will work?" Daphne pointed out.
"So what – we put our lives on hold? Wait until one problem is resolved before we let ourselves as a society have a chance to truly live?" Ron argued. Daphne thought of her own life of public service – of the sacrifices she and Harry made for the so-called betterment of mankind.
"We all have to sacrifice for a better future," Daphne replied softly.
"Ah – but I think we're sacrificing the wrong things," Ron pointed out. "We have to be allowed to really live – to actually enjoy life, or else why are we even fighting for a better future?" He nodded towards the game. "You see all of them out there playing? Do you think this 90 minutes of happiness is going to make them stagnant and lazy? Are they going to stop working and innovating because they had the opportunity to play football for a lazy afternoon? No. I think when you have something to fight for, you work harder.
"A lot of people are still wary of the WEA and the C-o-r-p-s," Ron whispered, earning a stuck-out tongue from Ginny, "and why shouldn't they be? Sure – we may be safe, but is safety really everything?"
"But it's easy to say that - in London with our defensive infrastructure. In most cities, gatherings like this are just asking for a terrorist attack. What happens when we bring sports back, only to watch it turn to tragedy?" Daphne pointed out.
Ron gave a soft smile. "In a way, aren't we just capitulating to the terrorists and fundamentalists by letting them dictate how we live our lives? I'm not saying we should be stupid - but I think of the London Blitz in World War II. London refused to stop - the people simply adapted. Perhaps if we showed the terrorists that we aren't going to let them dictate our lives, then they would lose their power."
"You've put a lot of thought into this," Daphne said, nodding in compliment.
"Well – I always enjoy a lively debate with an intelligent woman." Ron winked playfully at Daphne. He stood up, gave Ginny a mocking salute and ran off to deal with a mishap on the other side of the pitch.
"He's a bit of an idealist," Ginny stated, breaking the silence.
"No – I think he just sees the world as it could be and not as it is," Daphne suggested thoughtfully. "But in a world like this, perhaps that's what we must do if we ever hope to get there."
Ginny looked surprised. "Did he actually convince you?"
Daphne looked thoughtful and took a moment before responding. "I'm so used to dealing with politicians and intellectuals with data and vote counts and theoreticals. It's... refreshing to hear from someone who has purer motivations," she pointed out.
"Did you ever play Quidditch?" Ginny asked, curious if she had personal feelings on the matter.
Daphne smiled. "I never played – but I have memories from before the Event of sitting with my friend Pansy and making fun of the boys playing in someone's backyard. How about you?"
Ginny shook her head. "I was barely flying before the Event, but I used to watch my brothers play; I guess that's the advantage of a big family." She chuckled at a memory.
"Harry was apparently a natural flyer. His dad was an incredible Quidditch player at Hogwarts – supposedly, were it not for the war with Voldemort, his dad would have gone pro," Daphne mentioned.
Ginny looked surprised, "Really? From what I've heard of Harry's dad, I would assume he was too practical for that sort of thing."
Daphne blinked and looked at the officer in a very calculated manner before replying, "Harry told you about his dad?"
Ginny's neck turned red. "The uh, the night I took Harry to my brothers' club. He told me a bit about what was bothering him." She stopped, but Daphne gave her a look, urging her to continue. "He just mentioned his dad was always a politician and never just a dad."
Daphne gave a slight smile, blinking away the odd feeling in her stomach that came over her, before swallowing purposefully. "I don't believe Harry's dad was always like that. I think that's why it upsets Harry so much," she explained to Ginny who nodded awkwardly.
After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Ginny's wand gave a slight ping, and she was glad for the excuse to get up and check one of the sensors on a remote entrance to the pitch. As she passed Harry on the field, she did her best to avoid him, but he was being subbed in just as she passed.
"Gin." He jogged up to her; sweat dripped from his hair but an almost childlike smile graced his face. She felt blood rush to her cheeks at the sight of him, an errant memory of his arms around her from that night a week ago. She did her best to shake the thoughts from her mind.
"Harry," she nodded professionally. The conversation with Daphne was like a bucket of ice water being poured over her head. She was here to protect Harry – not to be his friend or anything else. Since she took him to Weasleys, it felt like he took every possible opportunity to talk with her, to be near her. And the more time she spent with him, the more she longed for it - the chance to hear his laugh and listen to his strange philosophical ramblings.
But it wasn't right. Not only because of her job, but because he had a fiancee - whom Ginny quite liked and almost considered a friend.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, his head cocked to the left as they walked the length of the pitch.
"I'm going to check on a sensor that went off – I assume it was a raccoon, or someone coming in late, but better safe than sorry," she explained as clinically as possible. "Shouldn't you be playing?"
"Oh – I've been playing non-stop – I'm on the sidelines for at least ten minutes." He smiled and walked with her. "Do you play football?"
Ginny nodded. "Sure – can't really help playing sports when you're a Weasley." She shrugged.
He nodded. "Is everything OK?"
Ginny sighed, because this was exactly the problem. Harry was kind, inquisitive, and aware. She had never met anyone like him, and they had chemistry. But she needed to push those feelings down. Far, far down.
"No Harry," Ginny sighed. "It's just stressful being in such an open position." She pointed to the pitch around them.
"Oh." Harry looked concerned for a moment. "Did you want to go? I'm sorry, I didn't even think to ask if it was safe before dragging you and Daph here."
"No." Ginny shook her head. "Sorry – I didn't mean it's a problem. Just that it's my job. Please – go back to your game and ignore me."
He chuckled, "You're hard to ignore, Officer."
Ginny frowned, but Harry seemed oblivious to her inner turmoil, simply flashing her a disarming smile and a brief salute.
When she finally reached the gate, she discovered it was indeed a racoon wandering about, and turned off the alarm before returning to the pitch.
Half-way back, Ron beckoned her to where he was keeping an eye on the backfield. "So Ginny."
"So Ron," she mimicked.
"Look – I'm not sure what's going on with Harry Potter – but be careful," he told her, his eyes sincere.
She looked confused and responded, "I don't think the threat is that substantial – there has been no indication of any additional threats on his life."
Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Gin. That's not what I'm talking about and you know it."
She tried to find the words to refute him but he stopped her. "Look – I've known you a long time. But they're politicians, they're a different breed than us."
"I know that. And thank you." She left before he could provide further commentary – now wondering just how obvious her infatuation was and more determined than ever to be strictly and utterly professional moving forward.
"We got him." Fox busted into his and Robards' shared office.
"We did?" Robards looked surprised.
"Yup. Just heard from French authorities – Michel Pierre was spotted and apprehended trying to illegally enter an apparition zone." Fox shrugged. "They're moving him here; it's going to take a few days." Pierre was the leader of the French fundamentalist group who had previously used similar explosives as the ones used in the bombing of Harry Potter's office. They hadn't actually expected to find him so easily though.
"So – let me get this straight." Robards' forehead crinkled. "This man, a non-magical, who has eluded French authorities for years. gets caught breaking into an apparition zone – one of the most secure locations in the WEA?"
"Yup," Fox confirmed, his tone equally skeptical.
"Why on earth would he even want to go to an apparition zone?" Robards questioned.
"Apparently he was planning a bit of sabotage."
"This is very convenient," Robards pointed out.
"Well, we'll have the opportunity to question him when he gets here." Fox smiled.
"And how long will that take?"
"Three to seven days."
Robards shook his head. "OK. Well, ignoring Pierre's extremely convenient apprehension, any other good news? Have we been able to get cell tower records?"
Fox nodded and grabbed something from his desk. "Yes – came in this morning but I haven't had a chance to go through them." He tossed half the papers over to Robards and the pair quietly reviewed the data.
"What time was the bombing again?" Robards asked.
"14:45" Fox confirmed.
"Exactly?" Robards asked.
Fox looked at another paper and clarified, "14:44:23."
"We have a call that came in at 14:44:05." Robards pointed out.
Fox thought for a moment. "A big vote just occurred – I would assume there would be a lot of calls around that time," he finished with a shrug.
Robards looked again and stood up, walking the sheet to the other desk. "There were – but they were all outgoing. There was only one incoming call within five minutes of the bomb going off."
"OK." Fox put on his glasses and typed the number into the database. "Sorry – this is taking a while."
Robards nodded and watched, waiting until a match appeared.
"Well, I'll be damned." Fox shook his head, looking at the screen.
"I guess we'll finally have a chat with Daphne Greengrass."
A/N: As always, a huge thank you to my Beta, ElizColl.
I appreciate all reviews/feedback. I can also be found on Tumblr canttouchthis87
On a completely unrelated note...I'm going to start posting a new fic on Friday - it's a 90s magical AU that's pretty much as different from this story as you can get. If you loved the 90s, particularly the music, I hope you'll consider joining me for 10 chapters of pure teen angst...and a whole lot of fluff...and then more teen angst...
Finding Kallipolis will continue to post every Wednesday and Sunday (for anyone wondering - it is fully written and undergoing extensive beta review/editing). And on Sunday we're back in the Uninhabitable Zone...