The fact that the Boy-Who-Lived had gone missing right after a Deatheater attack sparked debate among households in the wizarding world everywhere. How could their savior disappear without a trace?
There was little doubt in people's minds that the two incidents were related. Speculation was that the Deatheaters had kidnapped Harry Potter and had probably already killed him. Many had already gone into mourning. Only a handful of people knew the truth, and they certainly weren't telling.
Alex read the headline of the Daily Prophet with some grim satisfaction. Dumbledore had finally recruited the Ministry in his search for Harry. Of course, the odds of them finding Harry were pretty low, considering they were in Somerset, Alex hadn't used any magic to get there, their names were different, and they were under Glamour Charms. Yes, the odds of finding them were very slim.
Harry had awoken hazily to bright light flooding the room after the ritual. He had felt very sick and had immediately thrown up on the floor. This awoke Alex, who had been dozing in a nearby chair.
"Sorry," said Harry, as he finished retching.
"No problem, no problem at all," said Alex, vanishing the mess with a wave of his wand. "You went through a great ordeal and I expected you to be sick."
"What happened to me?" asked Harry hoarsely.
Alex held up a hand, signaling for Harry to wait. He left the room and came back a moment later with two cups in his hand.
"Drink this first," he said, handing him the smallest cup. Harry didn't know what was in it, but whatever it was made him feel much better. The room, which had been spinning, finally began to slow down, and his head stopped pounding.
"Now this," said Alex. This cup tasted awful and there was much more of it. Harry was painfully reminded of the foul mixture he had had to take the night before. Had it even been the night before?
"How long have I been out?" asked Harry as Alex took a seat in his previous chair.
"Two days. Don't worry," he said at the alarmed look on Harry's face. "The orphanage won't be expecting you back anytime soon."
"Why not?" asked Harry, taking a sip from the first cup again.
"Well, as your legal guardian," said Alex, barely able to conceal his grin, "it's my job to look out for you now, so they could care less."
Harry dropped his cup, spilling the contents on the floor. "Y-your…m-m-my guardian?" he stuttered.
Alex nodded. "As of two days ago when I signed the adoption papers. Now, I know this might come as a slight shock, and if you prefer the orphanage-"
"Are you mad? Of course I want to live with you!" This was immediately followed by a fit of coughing, in which Alex hit him on the back to help him out of it.
"I'm good," Harry choked out on the fourth hit. He sputtered a little bit more before finally taking a calming breath and looking back at Alex.
"So, I mean, you're really, you're-"
"Yep," said Alex, grinning broadly. "Officially. I didn't tell you then because I didn't want to distract you from the ritual."
Harry frowned at the mention of the ritual. "What exactly happened during the ritual?" he asked. He felt a little different, as if something was missing.
"Well, Harry, when we leave tomorrow, I don't want anyone to tail us. And to make sure nothing happens on accident, I had to repress your magic."
Harry's frown deepened. "Repress my magic? How-?"
"A lot of technical terms that won't mean anything to you Harry. All that you need to know is that you'll be exhausted for quite a while afterwards because a great deal of your energy has been taken from you. Unfortunately, we'll have to leave as soon as possible, so you'll only have today to recuperate and the train ride to Somerset. After that though, you can get all the rest you want."
Harry nodded. "But what about all of my things? I left them back in Surrey-"
"All taken care of Harry. I retrieved your things a while ago. Wayne says hi by the way. Now lie back down. You'll need all the rest you can get."
Despite the fact Harry wanted to ask Alex more questions, he obediently laid back down against the cool sheets. For once, Harry didn't feel like there was a cloud hovering over him at all times. The sun had broken through them and he felt better than ever, despite his physical state.
He fell asleep almost instantly, unaware of the events that were taking place.
"Did you read the paper?" asked Ted after breakfast.
Hermione and Tasha were sitting in the living room, playing with Gobstones while he and Andry washed the dishes.
"If you're talking about the headline, it was rather hard to miss. I'm sure everyone will be talking about it at work."
"It's a big deal," said Ted, drying the dishes his wife handed him. "Scrimgeour must be having a fit right now and is probably pulling everyone from the department to look for him."
"Including you." Andry stopped what she was doing so she could look at her husband. "All of these weird occurrences…" she started.
"Trust me; a lot of people are probably thinking the same thing you are. But they most likely aren't connected. The space between the two incidents was too large."
"Do you really believe that?" asked Andry. She stared fixedly at her husband, determined not to stray towards Hermione.
"Yes. Besides, if the Ministry believed that the crimes were connected, they would've renewed the Muggle Watch, which they called off quite a while ago."
He did let his eyes stray towards Hermione. Ted had known from the beginning that Hermione was the missing Muggle girl, but he was waiting patiently for Andry to tell him herself. Even though that didn't seem likely right now.
"I suppose you're right," said Andry, returning to the dishes. "I just hope that girl is okay and that Harry Potter is returned safely."
"I'm sure we already know that the first half has already happened."
Andry kept herself from commenting as her husband disappeared with a light pop.
Amelia Bones tapped her fingers against her desk, her irritation rising. Three days and the whole department had come up with nothing.
Her top Aurors were on the job and still, not a word, a whisper, or a sign of Harry Potter. Amelia had known that the situation was serious when Dumbledore had come to her personally to tell her that he needed help in finding Harry Potter. But everything was coming to a dead end.
We might have to communicate with other foreign countries just to find that boy. A smart person would've left the country.
But something told her that looking outside of England wasn't the best plan of action. She remembered when she had just started out as an Auror, her first mentor, Alianne Juntson, had told her that the best place for a criminal to hide was right under your nose.
But if that was true, why hadn't they found Potter's kidnappers yet?
They hadn't found the Muggle girl that had disappeared either though. However, finding her wasn't as important as finding Potter. Maybe the two were together somewhere, and the Deatheaters had taken both of them.
Amelia had gone over this scenario in her mind before, but she had always dismissed it. It made sense, to some degree, but why would Deatheaters bother to keep a Muggle girl anyway?
She shivered as she answered her own question. It wasn't a pleasant thought.
Amelia was startled from her thoughts as Cornelius Fudge entered, Scrimgeour trailing behind him. She stood up quickly as the Minister stopped in front of her desk.
"Is this how you spend your time searching Bones?" asked Fudge, looking at her critically.
"I would ask that you don't question my methods, Minister," said Amelia as politely as possible. "I've pulled everyone off their normal jobs, like you've asked, to find Potter and-"
"And yet no sign of him yet," said Fudge tiredly.
"It's still early Minister," said Scrimgeour. "The boy can still show up-"
"Dead or alive," said Amelia bitterly. She hadn't meant to say it aloud, but it was what everyone was thinking and an ominous feeling now hung in the air.
Fudge quickly cleared his throat. "You shouldn't talk like that Amelia," he said, his voice cracking a little. "We'll catch those kidnappers in no time and Potter will be returned to us safely."
A little too much to hope for Fudge, thought Amelia as Fudge left and Scrimgeour took a seat. She glanced at Scrimgeour, who was obviously looking to her for direction.
"Put some of our people in local Muggle neighborhoods."
Scrimgeour's brow furrowed and Amelia could understand his bewilderment.
"I don't think I quite understand you, Bones. A Muggle neighborhood is rather-"
"Inconspicuous?" Amelia raised her eyebrows at him. "It is the perfect place to hide out. Muggles don't know who Harry Potter is and the Ministry hardly ever investigates Muggles. We need to change that."
Scrimgeour was frowning now, the plan obviously was not going over very well with him. But he didn't question it.
"Right away. I'll pull away the Obliviators and launch them into Muggle neighborhoods."
Amelia nodded as Scrimgeour left. "Good."
Arthur Weasley picked tiredly at the food his wife laid before him. He could feel her disapproving stare as she wiped down the counters, but honestly he was too tired to care.
He had just come back from another grueling work day, following up the search for Harry Potter. No clue had come up and he was still uncertain if he should say anything.
"Look Arthur," said Molly, taking a seat across from him, "I know Alex is an old friend, a very old and good friend, but honestly, what he's done is a bit far."
"Don't you think I know that?" said Arthur, rubbing his eyebrows. "I know I should say something to the Ministry so that they can get Harry Potter back, but…"
"What do you think is more important Arthur? Allowing that man, who is probably unstable with grief, to have some happiness by taking a child that isn't rightfully his, or letting the Ministry arrest him and giving Harry back to his proper guardians?"
Arthur didn't meet his wife's eyes, his fork still running restlessly through his food. Yes, Alex could be a little unstable sometimes, but he didn't doubt in his abilities to take care of Harry, but he had committed a serious crime…
"Go to bed Molly, I know what I'm going to do."
His wife gave him a doubtful, worried, and slightly affronted look before standing up, shoving her chair beneath the table, and huffing off.
As soon as he heard Molly close the door to their room, he pushed his plate away and went into the living room in search of a scrap piece of paper, some ink, and a mail order for owls.
If anyone knows what to do, he thought, finding the piece of parchment, he will. He knows Alex as well as I do, if not better. He'll know what to do.
Narcissa Malfoy walked around her house, happier than she had been in a long time. The conversation she had had with her husband and Lynn had been one she had been hoping for for a long, long time.
And it has finally happened, she thought, barely able to keep herself from squealing with delight. As she passed a window, she saw two dark heads and one light blonde one on the court.
Something that felt like pity welled within her. Draco hadn't been happy with what she had told him two nights before. Lucius had thought he had needed to remedy that and Narcissa was upset with him about it, even though she hadn't done anything about it. Lynn had stood up for him, which she had admired and hated her for.
Narcissa hadn't been able to do that herself. She had never been able to protect Draco from his father, and Lynn, who was of no relation to him whatsoever, had always defended him. Lynn could be as cruel as Lucius herself, but when it came to children, she was as soft as Muggle-lovers.
And what's wrong with wanting to protect your or someone else's children? Narcissa shook her head as if it would rid her of the incriminating thought. Another reason that she disliked Lynn is that she made her think too much about things that had never seemed so complicated before.
I'll be glad when she's gone.
Dumbledore looked at the letter on his desk. It was addressed to him and was written in a very familiar scrawl. He hadn't been sure if Alex was going to write to him, considering the risks that he could be taking, but apparently Alex hadn't worried about that.
He must be completely confident of his actions. He has every right to be, his plan has been precise.
Alex had avoided any interaction with any wizards or Muggles since he had first showed up. Wherever Alex had been staying, Dumbledore hadn't been able to find it. The orphanage hadn't been interested in helping him search for Harry Potter, even though a watch had gone out for him.
But I'm sure Alex has already thought of that. He and Harry are probably in disguises now.
Trying to hone in on their magical signatures wasn't going to work because Harry's had been repressed and Dumbledore was unfamiliar with Alex's.
Dumbledore ran a hand over the envelope with Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy running across it.
Of course Alex couldn't realize the seriousness of repressing someone's magic. The magical core was something so sacred that having another human being come into contact with it was disastrous.
He slit open the envelope and started to read the letter, hoping that it would ease his troubled mind.
Harry was tired of being tired.
Ever since he had woken up, all he had done was sleep. No matter how hard he tried to stay awake, he couldn't. Alex had told him that it was his body trying to recover, but Harry had never felt as drowsy as this.
Besides that, he ached all the time and he became dizzy easily. He attempted to hide it from Alex, feigning that he had slipped on something or he had missed a step when coming downstairs in the morning and upstairs later in the day.
That's how he had ended up in the downstair's guest room in their new home in Somerset. The house was nice, a light green with wooden floors. There was a basement below the sitting room and four rooms upstairs; his, Alex's, a guest room, and the bathroom. Four rooms in total were downstairs; the kitchen, the sitting room, the bathroom, and the guest room in which he was currently residing.
The guest room had white walls without any pictures with a dresser and bed. Alex hadn't really thought much on decoration considering he didn't think he'd need the room very much. Harry was thankful for that because colors were starting to make his head swim.
I just wish the pain would stop. He turned over, not noticing the unusual tremble of his hands. The room was getting darker and warmer. Harry shut his eyes, as if that would make everything go away.
It worked before, he thought, keeping his eyes tightly shut. He had only felt like this in two instances: right after the ritual and as soon as he and Alex had boarded off the train.
It'll get better. It has to. I'm going to be fine.
So he has realized something's wrong with Harry.
Alex's letter had told of fits Harry had been having. Fainting, dizzy spells, and a frequently alternating body temperature. Unusual, yes. But Dumbledore knew what was causing it.
But he's still being stubborn.
Alex had requested help, but wouldn't tell Dumbledore his location. He wanted advice, which meant that what was plaguing Harry wasn't serious. Well, it wasn't serious right now.
Dumbledore looked up as an owl came soaring through his window and landed a little unceremoniously. When he saw who it was from, he was quite surprised. He opened it up and read it through quickly. He couldn't help but smile, even though things were gettiing serious.
Well, it seems that Alex wasn't as precise as I previously thought.
Sirius Black sat desolately in his cell, trying to ignore the continuous screams coming from the cells surrounding his own. He was also trying to ignore the dementors and the horrible chill. He wasn't succeeding very well.
There was a clatter and he saw that a plate of mush had been placed in front of him along with what looked like curdled milk. Sirius felt his stomach turn and shoved the food to the side.
When he looked back up, he noticed that it was an Auror that had given him his food. Usually, that was the dementors' job. Sirius thought of asking the woman why she was here but decided against it. Something else had caught his eye.
A newspaper was poking out of her pocket and he could see part of a name on it.
H-A-R-R
The chill was suddenly gone and so were the horrible screaming. The only thing running through his mind was Harry. James's son.
He sat up and leaned through the bars.
"Excuse me," he said, his voice somehow calm despite how shook up he felt. The woman looked over at Sirius, her eyes hard. She almost made Sirius withdraw, but he plowed forward.
"Um, may I see that paper there?" he asked, pointing at her pocket. "It's just, there's not much to do in here and I haven't read anything for a while."
The Auror continued to eye him suspiciously, but handed him the paper anyway, rather reluctantly.
Sirius tried to keep himself from snatching it out of her hands. Sirius didn't even read the whole page. His eyes were glued to the headline.
A/N: So it's been awhile since my last update. I have had a lot to do. Anyway, I think this story will be going on a little longer than I thought, because of this latest development. Please review, I appreciate them.