CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE SECRET
Harry Potter sat at his desk at the Ministry of Magic, nearly falling asleep from boredom over his paperwork. He had finally decided to list the art theft as an open, but cold case. He and his partner, Neville Longbottom, had both decided that they couldn't continue to waste Ministry resources when they weren't making any headway in the case.
There were simply no leads left.
As he dozed off, head nodding in his hand and eyelids drooping, Harry heard the sound of someone arriving through the Auror floo. Suddenly alert from the sound, Harry stood up and out of his chair, abandoning his paperwork as he glanced at his watch and hurried to the floo. It was half-six—near the end of his shift. How long had he been asleep?
Shaking his head at himself, Harry watched the flames blaze emerald green and as a pair of well-dressed feet appeared, followed by a well-dressed witch. It was Hermione Granger. Things had been slightly tense between them for a week or so after he'd accused her of the art theft, but now she seemed to be over it.
"Oh good, it's you," she greeted. "I was hoping you wouldn't be out on a call."
"Good morning to you too, Hermione," Harry told her. "What's got you here so early? Not another art theft? Neville and I were about to file that case as cold."
Hermione shook her head. "No, not an art theft. Ron went into the shop this morning, and it was a mess."
"That sounds like something for the detectives at Magical Law Enforcement, not the Aurors," Harry told her.
Hermione shook her head again. "Let me finish, Harry. The shop was a mess, and the back door was open, and near the back door he found a shoe… Ginny's shoe."
Harry didn't know how Hermione knew about his new relationship with Ginny, but he didn't concentrate on that. "Her shoe?" He asked. Horror was welling up in him and he forced himself to breathe.
"Yes. It's all that's left. We're worried that something's happened."
Numbly, Harry nodded. "Let me get Neville, and we'll be right over to take a look."
"Alright," Hermione agreed. "Meet me at the Leaky, and I'll show you the way to the back entrance. We don't want to cause a scene in the alley and worry people."
"Of course," said Harry.
He ran his hands through his hair worriedly, fingers massaging his scalp, and watched Hermione shout, "The Leaky Cauldron!" And disappear within the green flames.
As soon as she disappeared and the flames returned to a normal colour—for a moment, Harry absurdly wondered what it must cost the Ministry to keep the flames going constantly—Harry grabbed some floo powder and called Neville's address. This time he didn't stop to think of the vulnerability of his backend as he stuck his head in the fire; he only thought of Ginny in danger.
"Neville!" He called loudly when he saw the view of Neville's living room.
He heard quick, and probably tired, shuffling from somewhere out of view and soon Neville was in front of the hearth in a light blue dressing gown.
"Potter?" He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Longbottom, you need to get dressed and head to the Leaky Cauldron with me," Harry told him urgently.
"Emergency full English breakfast?" Neville asked.
"Shove off. I'm serious," Harry said through gritted teeth. "Ginny's gone missing and it looks like there was a struggle at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."
Neville woke up immediately upon hearing Harry's words. "Alright. Just come on through here and we'll Apparate out together once I'm changed."
Harry pulled his head out and pushed himself entirely through the floo and into Neville's living room. He didn't think about how much he hated the floo, or that he needed coffee, or how Neville must not have been able to get much sleep the night before like he normally would. He stood near the hearth, foot tapping anxiously as he waited for Neville.
Probably much quicker than it had felt to Harry, Neville exited a door in the hallway off the living room in full Auror dress—scarlet robes and badge pinned to his breast pocket.
"Let's go, mate," Neville told him. They walked into the designated apparition point in the far corner of Neville's front garden, just outside the wards, and nodded at each other as they each apparated and reappeared outside the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione was waiting for them and upon seeing them immediately began to lead them towards the alley, without pausing to check that the two Aurors were following her.
Harry hurried after Hermione, soon walking in step with her. "What time was it that Ron got to the store this morning?" He asked.
"He'd flooed to the Leaky Cauldron from my home at about six am, and had returned at about six-twenty, so I'd reckon it was about ten after six," she guessed. "That's when I flooed to the Ministry to tell you and then came back."
Neville was nodding beside them. "What time does Ginny usually lock up the store for the night?"
"I'm not sure," Hermione answered. "I know the store closes at ten, but I don't really know what duties she has and how long they take after she closes."
"She usually gets home around eleven," Harry said. "That's a long time for her to be gone, or unaccounted for."
They were nearing what had to be Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Ron was standing in the alley, head in his hands, with George pacing frantically next to him. "Took you lot long enough," Ron snarled when he saw them. Hermione put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and Harry worriedly glanced again at his watch. It was about 7 am now.
"Sorry," Harry apologized needlessly. "Show us what you've found."
Ron nodded and beckoned them into the store. "I opened the front door and came into this mess."
It was the back of the store, near the till and the storeroom. There was indeed a shoe in the middle of the merchandise that looked like it had been flung about. Harry recognized it was one of Ginny's trainers that she'd been wearing the morning before when she'd left his flat.
His heart continued to plummet as he bent down. "She must have known to leave it for us," he told Neville, looking for anything else that might lead to clues.
There was nothing else of note besides the mess of merchandise strewn, and he turned back towards the back door to examine that. "Hermione said the back door was open?"
Ron nodded. "Yeah. And Ginny's keys were right outside it as well, on the ground in the side alley."
Harry examined the doorknob and performed a spell. "It looks like the lock was magicked open."
"Probably dropped the keys in the struggle," Neville suggested. "Has anyone been to her residence to check for her there?"
The two Weasley brothers and Hermione all shook their heads negatively. "We called you as soon as we saw this," George explained. "Ginny hasn't been working for us long, but she'd never leave the shop in this condition—especially wouldn't leave with only one shoe."
Harry couldn't argue with that logic and was glad they had thought to get in touch with him before anything else. "Nobody touch anything, got it? Your shop needs to remain closed for at least today. Longbottom, I need you to get the Magical Forensics team out here and see if there's anything we've missed. I'll be heading to her flat."
Everyone nodded and followed his instructions. As he and Neville headed back up the side alley, Harry began to feel sick to his stomach with worry. "Something's not right about this, mate," muttered Harry. "I've got an awful feeling that something's gone horribly wrong."
"Let me know if you need me at her flat, mate," Neville told him. "I know how hard it must be, with you being involved and all."
Harry couldn't rightly explain how he felt more than simply involved with her. He stayed silent and they nodded their farewells at the apparition point.
Harry ran up the stairs to Ginny's flat and knocked on the door. "Ginny?" He called.
There was no answer, and no rustling from inside. He gave the password to the door and it allowed him entrance. Her flat looked normal, he thought, as he peered around.
Her jack-o-lantern that she'd carved with him from earlier in the month was sitting on the windowsill by her little twin bed, and he fought the memories of rolling around with her on it as he decided to look for clues that may help him find her.
He felt slightly guilty invading her privacy but would rather do that than find her dead somewhere or being tortured in some cellar.
He looked under the sink in her kitchenette and saw some paints. The colours reminded him of something, but Harry wasn't sure what. He remembered her mentioning that she did art sometimes.
He continued to poke about and looked under the twin bed, finding a wooden pine box and a rolled up canvas.
He opened the canvas first and found himself extremely confused. The painting reminded him of the Raysse painting that had gone missing… why would she be painting Last Year In Capri?
Frowning deeply, he turned towards the box. It wouldn't open. Harry ran some test spells and found that the latch was flesh-bonded. Most witches and wizards didn't know, but the Aurors were taught a spell in the academy that undid such magic, if there weren't additional enchantments.
Luckily for Harry, there weren't any extra enchantments beyond the basic flesh-bonding. He undid the spell and opened the box to find four potions vials, all uncorked, with the last only half-finished. What in the world?
He grabbed an evidence baggie and placed all of the vials in it—he'd take it to the potions lab at the Ministry for tracing. It was his best piece of evidence.
What had Ginny gotten herself into?
Harry continued to poke around but found no other clues to lead him to Ginny. He made sure to put the evidence bag of potions vials and to grab the imitation Raysse painting before he left, locking the door behind him.
Harry made his way back to the Ministry, apparating directly into the Ministry of Magic and passing through security quickly—as an Auror he had special privilege to pass in front of others, but Harry rarely used the privilege, unless on an important case.
He practically ran to the potions lab, praying to Merlin that there were no orders in front of his.
"Hello?" he called as he entered their foyer. The potions lab had a foyer for visitors and those putting forward an official request, and then several potions labs that were almost always in use. He knew he wouldn't be allowed past a certain point for safety reasons, but he wasn't going to just stand there if no one answered him. Ginny's life hung in the balance.
"Hello?" Harry called again. Finally, a wizard came out, hair slightly puffy from humidity. His robes were slightly askew, and there were burn marks on one of his cheeks. "Er, you alright?" Harry asked uncertainly.
"Fine, fine," the wizard waved him off. "How can I help you so early in the morning?"
Harry frowned, but replied, "I have some evidence I need processing. It's for a missing persons case so we need it to be rushed, as the first forty-eight hours after are always crucial, and we're already going on about ten hours."
The wizard took the baggie from him. "I can't guarantee that it'll be done quickly, but we will certainly put it ahead of whatever isn't already in a cauldron. What do you want us to do with them?"
"See if you can trace the potions back to any specific potions dealers, or if there's anything else of note that might help the investigation," Harry instructed. "And please, let me, or Auror Longbottom, if I'm not available, know what you find out as soon as you do."
The wizard nodded. "Sure will. Could be about three days."
"Three fucking days?" Harry asked, voice raising.
"It's the standard time that it takes to trace these types of things. I'm sorry we can't do it any quicker—you can develop a new method for potioneers, if you'd like."
Harry shook his head but didn't reply. Muggle technologies were advancing and getting faster all the time, but the Wizarding world couldn't stand to progress. What a load of tossers, he thought.
"Just let me know," he finally gritted out and waved in farewell. He stormed back up to the Auror offices and found Neville at his desk, pouring over a piece of parchment as he drank a cup of coffee.
"Find anything else at the shop?" Harry asked in greeting.
Neville glanced up at him, a look of tiredness in his eyes that Harry wasn't sure he'd ever seen on the wizard. "Not much. The shoe and the keys, and the magicked door. They're all clues that Ginny was in a struggle, but nothing points to who took her."
Harry groaned. "I had a bit more luck at her flat, but the evidence I found leaves me concerned and confused."
"What did you find there?"
"A halfway done imitation of the Raysse painting that was stolen earlier in the month, and some emptied potions vials."
Neville rubbed his face tiredly, frowning. "What would Ginny be doing with those?"
"I have no clue, but I have a bad feeling that she may have gotten herself into something sticky. I sent the vials to the potions lab for tracing back to any illegal dealers, but they said it would take about three days for them to complete the potion needed for that."
Shaking his head, Neville said, "Dear Merlin," and sighed. "Anything else to go on?"
"Not at the moment. I'd say we'd question those closest to her, but that would be us, her brothers, and her mum and dad. I don't think any of them would know anything about illegal potions use."
"Most likely not," agreed Neville. "Say, do you remember how Ginny was playing for the Harpies before an injury?"
Harry nodded.
"Well, I don't think that the press let on to how bad her injury was. Ginny almost didn't walk again—let alone fly."
Harry let that sink in. "That would explain why it ended her career so early. And it could explain a potions issue. It happens to a lot of witches and wizards who had to be heavily sedated for a while—usually Aurors injured on the job or Quidditch players."
Neville nodded. "I wish she would have told someone."
"Me too," sighed Harry. "I hate not doing anything to find her."
"Why don't you get in contact with your CI? Maybe you could show her the fake-Raysse and see if she recognizes it."
"You're absolutely brilliant!"
Harry quickly wrote a missive and sent it off, asking Cho to meet him at the Hog's Head Inn, as soon as possible. He wasn't sure how long the owl would take to get to her, but he would be there when she arrived. He grabbed his cloak, waved to Neville, and walked to the Atrium to apparate away.
When he arrived in Hogsmeade, Harry made his way hurriedly to the inn and took his seat at his normal table. "A little early in the morning to start drinking," Aberforth told him as he approached Harry.
"Here for business, Abe," Harry answered. "Could I get a coffee?"
"I don't sell that shite here," Aberforth chastised. "I can get you a pumpkin juice or butterbeer. Or I've got some old tea in my flat that I could get you."
Harry shook his head. "A pumpkin juice will be fine then, thanks."
Aberforth nodded and walked away.
Harry waited about a half hour before Cho arrived. She was dressed quite posh and Harry guessed that she'd been about to head to some sort of gallery that she managed.
"What's this about?" she asked as soon as she was in earshot. "It sounded important."
"I'm working a missing persons case," he told her. She looked at him blankly as he continued to explain. "It seems to be connecting back to the theft of the Raysse painting, so I thought I'd pick your brain."
Cho nodded in understanding.
"I found a half-finished imitation of Last Year in Capri in the victim's flat, so I was hoping you might know why she'd have that, as well as if you'd recognize the style of art and match it to a one of your underground dealers."
"Most likely," replied Cho thoughtfully, "Your victim is also part of the heist. There are magical art dealers who sell the original stolen painting, and then replace the original at the scene of the crime with a counterfeit to throw off Law Enforcement."
Cho took a sip of the mimosa that Aberforth had brought her (Harry wondered why the man would have champagne at a pub like this, but not coffee), and said, "Do you have the imitation with you?"
"Yeah," Harry said, pulling it out of his pocket. He unrolled it and laid it on the table. Cho's narrowed as she looked it over.
"It's hard to tell," she finally told him. "The brushstrokes are truly a good imitation of Raysse's. Do you mind if I take a picture of this? I may be able to ask some colleagues if they recognize it."
"Do what you need," Harry assured her. "Please let me know what you can if you find anything out."
"Of course," Cho smiled at him. "Are you alright?" she asked as she took out a small digital camera and snapped a picture. "You seem more worried than you have been for any cases I've seen you on."
"Yes, thanks," replied Harry, uncomfortably. "Thanks for asking, though."
Cho didn't need to know, he thought. Especially with their past.
Cho nodded but didn't look like she believed him. "Well, alright." She shoved the camera into her bag and said, "I'd best be off. I'll let you know what I hear."
"Thank you. You know what to do if you hear anything."
"Yeah, yeah," she smiled over her shoulder at Harry. "I'll rub your coin."
He wasn't sure how she made it sound so dirty but shrugged it off as he left a few sickles for Aberforth on the table.
As Cho left, Harry decided to head up to Hogwarts. He glanced at his watch and hoped that Minerva wouldn't be busy. He thought he might like to talk to her.
For the first time all morning, he allowed himself to walk slowly up to the castle. He had no more evidence to gather yet, unfortunately. He felt there should be something more he could do—the detectives in those Muggle telly shows always had a new lead to follow that would allow them to save their victim just in the nick of time. What if he were too late to save Ginny?
He finally reached the castle gates and they opened for him. There weren't many students about on the grounds, Harry observed, but a glance at his watch told him that most of them would be in their morning classes. The chill in the air was probably enough to deter any students wishing to laze about on the grounds as well, he reasoned.
As he walked through the castle, up the many moving staircases, he imagined Ginny walking the corridors in a Gryffindor uniform, carrying a school bag and books. He sometimes ached to have experienced Hogwarts as it was when Sirius and Remus had gone. He wondered who he would have been friends with there, and if he would have had excellent adventures with them.
As he arrived at the Headmistresses' office, Harry told the gargoyle the password, still ad astra per aspera, and walked up the stone, spiral steps. She answered on the first knock, luckily. He wasn't sure that he had ever seen a look of surprise on Minerva's face before, but she seemed faintly surprised when she saw that he was the one at her door.
"You weren't expecting anyone else, were you?" Harry asked.
"No," answered Minerva. "I had some strange feeling that there was a first year getting into trouble somewhere and thought a professor may be making their way to find me."
"What trouble could a first year get up to?" asked Harry incredulously.
"You would be surprised," she replied, eyebrows raised. "Why, I remember when Hermione Granger was almost killed by a troll when she was eleven in the lavatory."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like an interesting story."
She shook her head. "Ah, some details of the ordeal are lost the mists of time. What brings you to Hogwarts, Potter?"
"I'm on a case, and I just needed to talk to someone who knows me."
It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "Good heavens, surely I'm not the only one, Potter?" she asked fondly. Harry briefly wondered if she might reach out and ruffle his hair. He instinctively backed away. He thought he saw her lips twitch.
"Well, you see," he explained. "Ginny Weasley's gone missing."
Minerva's mouth dropped open slightly. "Again? Poor girl."
"What do you mean, again?"
"She was taken in her first year here—quite a theme, apparently—and was trapped in the Chamber of Secrets for hours before Albus rescued her."
"Oh, she'd told me a bit about that," he said, thinking out loud.
"She did? That's not something you bring up in polite company."
"I'm not exactly polite company," Harry told her wryly. "But if you must know, she told me about it when I took her to dinner."
She didn't comment, but she did look more worried than he'd seen her look in a long while.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"Oh, it's nothing… Just rumours. I'm quite sure they're not true," she hedged. "After all, I've been proven a fool to listen to rumour before."
Harry knew she was referring to Sirius. Oh, how he missed his godfather dearly.
"What is it?"
"There are rumours that during the war, Ginny Weasley took an unorthodox approach to protecting the castle. You see, there were some teachers who turned up missing not long after they had taken her and some other Gryffindors to detention."
"Detention?" Harry asked, confused. Why would teachers go missing after a simple detention?
"They were Death Eaters, Potter, here to control the students and staff for Lord Voldemort."
He remembered a time when she hadn't dared utter Voldemort's name—he felt briefly happy that witches and wizards were feeling safe enough to finally call him by what had been taboo, but then he processed what she had said.
"So, detention?"
"Was torture, simply. We tried to stop it when we could, but we could not always do so without endangering more lives."
Harry nodded. He had heard that Hogwarts had been hell, but no one had ever opened up about the details. "And you say they went missing after Ginny 'served detention' with them?"
"Yes, Potter. Now, it could be coincidence. Perhaps Voldemort grew tired of them. Perhaps they fled the country. But they never showed their faces again, and the acromantula colony grew larger and more robust during that time."
Harry shivered, having come across those acromantulas himself.
"And you think..."
"I do not know. None of us do."
"And this makes you think that she's not a good match?" Harry asked, growing slightly annoyed.
"If the rumours are true, Harry, she's murdered."
"I've murdered people," he reminded Minerva. "We were in a war!"
"But she was so young," she despaired. "To have made that choice so young…"
Harry shook his head. "Sometimes you make the choice to survive. I did. If she killed them, so did she. If those Death Eaters were torturing students—children—then she did the world a favour."
"You're not wrong," she agreed hesitantly. "But if you find that girl, please promise me to be careful. I would hate to lose you, too."
Harry anger retreated as he understood. "I will, as much as my Gryffindor-like bravery will allow me to, anyhow."
Minerva's lips thinned further, but she nodded. "Unfortunately, I don't have anything to help you find her. But you'd best get back to it."
Harry agreed. "I'll get in touch with you again when this is all over," he promised. "I'll see you soon, Aunt Minerva."
She nodded, and with that, Harry left her office.
