Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter
AN: Welcome to my latest AU story. This story will be a bit different than my usual writing, as the two goals I had when I began plotting it was to challenge myself by including action scenes and making the story longer than my usual fare. This story, plus my amazing beta readers, pushed me to get out of my comfort zone. The end result turned into the 16 chapters that will make up this story.
This is an AU story. Anything that's different from canon is probably like that on purpose :D
A big thank you to my beta readers DJKopper, x102reddragon, and Foreal the Chronicler. Your assistance and encouragement kept this one going. It would be far less readable without you.
Shout out to my hype squad Proc and Dr. Wish for their kind words and answering random, no-context questions with no warning.
An extra special thank you to DJKopper for being an absolute rockstar and helping me plot this beast out. Your willingness to bounce ideas around and push me to take the story further was truly an inspiration, and this would have never been written without you. Also, you let me use your OC so you have my eternal love and gratitude.
You can find these outstanding people, and many others, in the Flowerpot Discord. Stop by and say hello!
discord .gg / f4a9Cg8rpB
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Fire burned around them as she sank to her knees.
It had happened without warning. Without any indication. One moment they were laughing, shopping at the latest clothing store added to their favorite wizarding district in Paris, and the next there was nothing but supercharged air throwing her back. She knew she needed medical attention, but everything felt numb as she stared at the lifeless form before her.
The world sounded as if it were far away as she reached out and scooped up the body, hesitating as she touched the still form. She clutched them tightly to her chest, rocking back and forth as she let out a wail. She didn't try to stop the tears. She'd done this, she knew it without question. This was her fault and she would never be forgiven for it. Again a cry escaped her lips just as a hand fell on her shoulder, snapping her out of the bubble of her mind.
She looked up at the man's face, his expression a mixture of heartbreak and anger.
"We need to get out of here."
It wasn't a suggestion, she knew, but couldn't bring herself to move, clutching the body tighter. He knelt down and forcibly moved her head to look at him once more.
"We need to get out of here and let the Auror's work. The place is still on fire."
"This is my fault," she whispered as she gently placed the body back on the ground. With no weight in her arms she felt as if she would wilt away, so she grabbed his shoulders for support as another round of tears began to fall.
"I did this."
He gripped her chin tightly and the look in his eyes changed. No longer was he sad. His eyes no longer held heartbreak. All she saw was anger.
"No." The conviction in his voice cut off the tears and her eyes widened. "Someone planned this and did it themselves. I don't know who, but I intend to find out, even if it takes years. Anyone can be found and brought to justice with enough effort."
His words touched something within her and the heartache receded, not completely, and she suspected it never would, but it receded like the tides of the sea. She knew it would come back, often and without warning, but for now it had been pushed away. In its place, a burning desire started. It was just a small kindling, but she knew it would grow with time.
She nodded her head as he helped her up. She wiped her face and looked up at him.
"You're right. I'll mourn when justice has been served."
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Paperwork was dull.
At least, that's what Harry thought. Some in the department, like Frank Longbottom, were more than happy to sit in the office all day and take care of the administrative tasks. It was part of the job, he'd say, that permanent smile affixed on his face before he'd go right back to it. After a few moments he'd look back up and say something about having a consistent schedule and getting back to his wife at a decent hour every night.
But Harry couldn't stand it.
Sure, he understood the need for the paperwork, you had to have records, but it was just so dull. He'd rather be on patrol in Diagon Alley or assisting on a case. That was where the real fun of being an Auror happened, not sitting at his desk filling out incident reports that he'd let pile up over the course of the last two weeks.
"Harry!"
He looked up and saw his father poking his head out of his office before gesturing for him to approach. Harry nodded and smiled as he stood up. Despite the fact that his father was the Head Auror, he'd received no special treatment upon joining. He'd gotten the requisite OWLS and NEWTS, gone through the same training, and worked the same crap assignments as every other newbie. James Potter was many things, but he knew better than to play favorites.
Entering the office Harry saw a tall man standing near the window dressed in the deep blue robes of a French Auror. He walked over and shook Harry's hand.
"Harry, meet head Auror Dupont, my counterpart in France," James said as he sat behind his desk. Harry nodded at the taller man.
"It's nice to meet you sir," Harry said with a smile before turning towards his father. "What's this about?"
James gestured towards Dupont.
"Have you heard about The Shadow, Monsieur Potter?"
Harry shook his head.
"The Shadow is a thief who has been plaguing the French Ministry for several years," Dupont said with a sigh as he sat down. Harry followed his lead.
"Seems kind of silly to give more press to a thief," Harry pointed out. "In my experience that just drives them to continue stealing. They steal for attention."
Dupont nodded.
"I agree, and this thief would have no name if it were up to me. Sadly, someone in my department leaked the details to the press. You know how they love naming things."
Harry nodded.
"True enough. Merlin knows I've been subject to my fair share of labels over the years." He looked between the two men. "So what's this got to do with us?"
"The Shadow has, up until recently, confined their activities to France," Dupont continued, "Usually stealing from our most wealthy magical citizens, though they have taken from muggle museums as well. None of the things they steal end up on the black market in France, though we haven't been able to monitor markets worldwide. We think they're either trading them to someone else or keeping them. Regardless, we have reason to believe they're headed here next."
"What makes you think that?" Harry asked as the Frenchman reached into his robes and pulled out a photograph, handing it to Harry. He looked down at it and saw a brick wall with letters written in magical ink on it.
"'Au revoir for now, France. I'll be across the pond if you need me,'" Harry read aloud before squinting. "Is that a drawing of a cat winking?"
Dupont chuckled as he nodded.
"Yes, it is. Though you can't see it in the photo, ever so often the cat would meow and cough up a union jack too. It was quite an impressive bit of charms work, if I do say so myself."
Harry looked over at James.
"You think this is credible?"
James nodded.
"I got some of their files on this person last week, and while they've left taunting messages for the Aurors regularly, they've never lied. Each time they gave the team advanced warning of their next heist they followed through with it." James scratched his chin. "They'll likely want to make a splash."
"Malfoy's bullshite party is in a couple weeks," Harry pointed out, his face taking on a sour expression. Draco wasn't a bad guy, and he was pretty good in the courtroom, but his mother and father were terrible. "It's going to have a bunch of people from all over the UK and France. The perfect time to strike and let it be known you've arrived."
James nodded again.
"That's what I was thinking. I want you to take the lead on this."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"I currently don't have a partner, if you remember. Neville decided to go and have another child."
James rolled his eyes.
"So find someone else," he replied before quickly sending Harry a knowing look. "Not Sirius."
"What? Why not?"
"Because, Auror Potter, the last time you and Auror Black worked together you stole a hippogriff," James said with a stern look. Harry folded his arms over his chest.
"Buckbeak was being held against his will."
"You released it into the wild," James pointed out. "You know how much shite I got into because of that stunt? You're lucky both of you have such a good track record, otherwise the Minister would have made me fire you both."
He cleared his throat before pointing back towards Dupont. "Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Auror Dupont has graciously offered to be on site to lend a hand. Sirius, Frank, and I will be working the crowd. You need to do what you do best."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Sneaking around in the dark and getting into trouble?"
James shook his head and opened his mouth, but Harry beat him to it.
"Drinking?"
James shot him a dirty look.
"Being stunningly good looking, far more so than my father?"
Dupont laughed.
"Oh James, I see now why you say he's a handful," the man said with a smile. "I'm surprised you don't have more gray hair."
James sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple.
"Honestly," Harry voiced, breaking the short silence, "it might be best to have me run this one solo."
"That's a terrible idea," James said, but Harry held up his hand.
"I think it's the perfect idea," he countered before looking at Dupont. "Your team tried all manner of tactics, yeah?"
Dupont nodded.
"Oui. Everything we could think of, but they kept slipping past us. They're good, incredibly good, and we know very little about them."
Harry turned back to James.
"See? We need to try something new. Solo operations are rare, but if this person is a thief then they're not looking to hurt anyone." Harry could see that James was unconvinced, so he continued. "You, Sirius, and Frank can watch things inside. I'll have Seamus join you as well. He's gotten in with the Malfoy crowd so he'll be helpful inside. I'll post Boot at the main entrance. He won't be able to fuck anything up there."
"You speak very unkindly about your coworker, Mr. Potter," Dupont said. Harry smiled.
"Terry Boot is a good man, but he's got a habit of acting or speaking before thinking," replied Harry.
James sighed.
"As much as I might not like it, you're right." His voice was resigned.
They both knew this was the best course of action but Harry understood his father didn't like the thought of him roaming the Malfoy manor alone. Harry scratched his head as an idea formed.
"What if I get a couple of non-aurors to help us out?"
James shook his head.
"I don't use civilians," he said firmly.
"Not regular civilians," Harry tried, "capable ones. Like Hermione. And…well, I guess just Hermione."
"Hermione Granger?" Dupont asked, causing Harry to nod. "Her exploits in your Ministry have reached even our department. She's very capable."
Harry looked back at his father.
"See? She's capable, and she knows basically everyone who will be there. We can have her point out anyone suspicious or unknown to us."
James chewed his lip and Harry could see the wheels turning in his head. The idea was sound, Harry was confident in that, and adding more Auror personnel to the mix wouldn't help them catch a thief. They needed efficiency, and with the new earpieces the Department of Mysteries had recently cooked up for them he was sure having one or two regular people helping out would be beneficial.
"Fine," James said, "but I brief her and decide how much she knows. And I decide if things get too dangerous."
Harry nodded. He wouldn't have it any other way.
James pointed at Dupont. "Work with Mr. Dupont for the rest of the afternoon and then get something together. Only involve people who absolutely need to be involved. I don't want this leaking."
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Harry adjusted his tie as he watched the party from the shadow of the lawn. James had been insistent that Harry be in formal wear, just in case he needed to make an appearance. Harry had argued that it would limit his mobility if he got into a fight with the thief. It had been a long, drawn out argument where neither had wanted to budge.
Lily had been the one to suggest the muggle suit.
He couldn't deny that it looked stylish, the black slacks, shoes, jacket, and tie fitting in well with the white button up shirt. The tailor they'd gone to had said he was a "Regular James Bond," though he didn't see much resemblance. He'd seen the movies years ago, but the suave personality and dashing good looks of 007 didn't mesh with Harry's own personality. At least not in his opinion.
As he continued to scan the room, several chirps of the magical earpiece came through as Terry marked anyone he felt was suspicious, he saw someone that made him stop. She was in a long, light blue dress and her silver blonde hair, held together by a single elegant ribbon, fell to her waist. He couldn't stop himself from staring as she laughed and covered her mouth as the light around her seemed to brighten at the gesture.
"Hermione," he whispered into his earpiece, "Blonde at your eight o'clock. Who is she?"
"Eight o'clock?" came the quiet reply. He sighed.
"The smoking hot leggy blonde to your left," James pipped in humorously.
"Not helping," Harry hissed.
"I'm telling Lily you're being creepy James," Sirius added, and Harry nearly ripped the earpiece out in frustration.
"Oh, sorry," Hermione said, "I'm still not used to this. Let's see, oh, that's Fleur Delacour. She works for Gringotts in their curse breaking division. Her and Bill Weasley just came in from Egypt. I think. Ron kind of glossed over the details when he told me. You'll probably meet her the next time you're at the Burrow."
"How'd she get an invite?" Harry asked. He could see Hermione shrug.
"The goblins always send human representatives to these things, it's how they maintain their influence," she explained. "She's probably here with several other Gringotts employees, maybe even Bill."
"Better luck next time, son," quipped James.
"Not necessarily, though she is a Veela," Hermione interrupted. "Her and Bill aren't dating. They're just partners and have been for years."
"Uh huh," Sirius said with a chuckle, "I'm sure they're just partners. I've seen Bill. Two attractive people working together? Sorry Hermione, but that screams 'friends with benefits' at the very least. Those two have most certainly done some things."
"Bill's been in love with your niece since they were in school," Hermione chided and Harry could see Sirius choke on his drink.
Thank goodness the DOM had spelled these things to only pick up actual words.
"Little Tonks?" his godfather whispered after he recovered.
"Focus people," James cut in, a seriousness to his tone. "Harry, how are things looking out there?"
Harry scanned the grounds and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He flicked his wand to ping some of the detection spells he'd set up and received no odd responses. Finally, he looked at the rest of the windows and saw no movements throughout the rest of the house. He'd chosen this spot as it contained windows into all the important locations in the house, places where things of value might be kept.
"Nothing so far," he said, "I'm starting to think they're not going to show."
"Are you kidding me?" James hissed.
"Nope, I'm serious."
"Actually, I'm S-"
"Sirius, if you complete that sentence I'll come in there and beat you to death with the champagne glass you're holding," Harry threatened.
He was tired, they'd worked long hours to make sure everything was set up for tonight, and so far it had proven to be a bust. He wasn't in the mood for his godfather's jokes. He'd had the perfect plan. The detection spells he was using were old, obscure, and far less likely to be known by a criminal. He was sure they wouldn't know how to counter them. Additionally, he'd charmed the windows to the study and the master bedroom with some more advanced wards.
Having Draco let slip that his father was keeping a couple new expensive pieces in his study to the right people had just been insurance.
"Well keep watching."
James' commanding voice sounded in his ear before the earpiece went silent, something Harry was quickly growing to hate about the objects. They used some pretty advanced magic to direct the correct speech through them, but that meant when the person on the other end was addressing someone else all he got was silence.
"If we haven't seen anything in a couple more hours we'll call it a night," James voice returned.
Harry didn't bother to respond.
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It was nearly two hours later, the party beginning to come to an end, when Harry's detection spells went off. He cast a few spells to check and he furrowed his brow. That was different. Detection alerts coming from both ends of the grounds, as if someone had tripped both sides simultaneously.
"Anyone go out to the west end of the grounds from the main house?" he asked into the earpiece.
"Nope," came the reply from Frank, "Haven't seen any guests leave through that side of the house all evening. The apparition point is on the east side and the floo is near the main entrance. What's up?"
"Getting odd readings from my spells."
"Anything of note?" asked Sirius.
"Detections on both sides of the grounds," he explained. "I can probably explain away people leaving from one, but there's nothing on the west side."
"I'll take a look," Sirius said.
"James, you and Frank casually make your way towards that side of the building. Ask Mr. Dupont to do the same towards the main entrance," Harry instructed. "I'm making my way inside."
"Why?" asked James.
"Something feels off. These aren't normal responses," he said as he moved across the wide grounds, "people and animals have a distinct impression. I've never felt this before. Sirius, be careful."
Just as he was nearly at the house he stopped and looked up. The charm on the study window was intact and not reporting anything, but for a brief moment he thought he saw movement. He nearly continued walking, brushing it off, when he saw it again: the candle burning in the room flickered briefly, as if movement had changed its position.
Quickly he moved into the house and up the stairs, sticking to the shadows and doing his best to limit the sound he made. As he made it to the stairs he stopped. The study door was open, which should be quite a difficult task considering the amount of locking spells they'd hit it with. The skill required to break through would be, in all honesty, impressive.
Harry smiled.
He heard the sound of papers rustling in the room as he made it to the opening, stopping just long enough to peer in. It was a woman, her lithe figure and flowing black hair peeking out from under a hood. She wore unassuming clothes, simple black pants and a shirt with a dark scarf covering her neck, though he could feel the magic coming from the hood. Something stirred within him and he simply knew she was powerful…and beautiful. A deadly combination.
Deadly…and potentially thrilling.
The gap in the door was just wide enough for him to fit without moving it. Instantly his senses went into overdrive as it felt like the breath was sucked from his lungs. For just a moment he had the distinct impression he was experiencing what drowning felt like before it was gone just as quickly. The woman stopped as he settled, but he wasn't paying any attention to her.
He couldn't feel his connection to magic.
She turned towards him and her face, partially hidden by shadows, twisted into a smirk that snapped him back to his task.
"Huh," she said, "none of you have ever made it this far. Interesting. What makes you so special?"
Her voice was distorted, but there was an underlying note of…something. What, he didn't know, but it felt almost warm. Kind. Far different than a thief who had been plaguing the French Ministry for years.
"I'm pretty good at my job," Harry said before frowning. "What have you done to me?"
She laughed, a melodic sound even with the distortion.
"Do you like my ward? I developed it myself. No magic in here for you, at least not until it fades, and I'll be long gone by the time that happens."
The ward hadn't felt dark when he'd stepped into it, of that he was certain. He tried a spell with his wand to confirm that he was indeed without his best tool. He slipped the wood into the holster on his forearm as she turned away, shuffling through the papers on the desk once more. He studied her briefly and couldn't grasp her motive, but his gut told him she wouldn't kill him. He smiled.
Only one way to find out.
He rushed her. He wasn't the best unarmed fighter, but it had been drilled into him during training. She turned just in time to block his punch.
"Rude," she said with a smile in her voice. "I'll play along…mostly."
She followed the blocked blow with a punch of her own and he stepped to the side to avoid it, catching her in the ribs with a return of his own. She grunted as she spun away, stopping just short of the window.
"Very rude."
Before he could think she was on him, jabbing, ducking, dodging, and tossing in kicks to keep him off balance. She landed a hard blow to the side of his face. Her fist felt heavy, as if enhanced by magic. Interesting. He landed a swift kick to her hip. She connected with his stomach. His fist impacted her shoulder.
They stopped, both panting heavily, neither willing to give an inch.
"Hi," he said as he watched her ready for her strike. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Harry. And you are…?"
"Wondering if you're this forward with every woman you meet," she said with a smile.
"That depends."
"On…?"
"Is it working?" he asked.
"That depends," she replied.
"On…?"
"If you can finish," she whispered before launching at him again.
It was as if they were dancing a choreographed routine. Each played their part to perfection. He didn't know why, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face as they danced, their strikes coming faster and with more intensity as the minutes ticked by. Harry hadn't had fun at work for so long, and despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn't help to wonder who he was facing off against. Who the woman wearing the matching smile was.
He sidestepped a punch and caught her wrist. She turned but he held firm as she twisted, causing her back to collide with his chest as he wrapped her in his arms to prevent her escape.
"Got you now," he said with a grin.
"That you do," she whispered before leaning up and capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Despite what was going on, despite who she was, whoever she was, he kissed her back with just as much fire.
He lost focus for a single moment, but that was all she needed as she jammed her elbow into his stomach. He doubled over as the air was pushed from his lungs. When he looked back up she was halfway through the window, one hand on the frame as she stared back at him. Her other hand went to her lips and she smiled.
"That was…invigorating. See you around, lover." She blew him a kiss and jumped. Harry scrambled to the window but found nothing below. As he let out a curse he felt magic return to him and the earpiece chirped to life.
"Harry James Potter you better answer me right fucking now!" his father's voice came through.
"I'm here," he said as he stepped back from the window with a sigh. "She's gone."
"What? Who?"
"The Shadow," Harry clarified, "is a woman, and she was here. We fought but she got away. I'm in the study."
He touched his fingers to his lips, mind going back to the moment of their kiss. When his world had caught fire. It was heated, heavy, but it felt like there was a spark of…something there. Something else. What, he wasn't sure. He moved over to the desk and began rummaging through the scattered pages, trying to focus his thoughts. Page after page of financial records littered the desk, but he wasn't sure what any of it was for.
The door opened and the four other Aurors stepped in, looking around wildly. James gave him a soft look.
"You hurt?"
Harry shook his head.
"No, I'm alright."
"Doesn't look like it. Your cheek is swollen and you're favoring your right side. What happened?"
Harry shrugged before looking up.
"We fought and she got away." He pointed down at the papers. "Is Draco still out there?"
"I think he was just about to leave," Terry said from the door. "Would you like me to see if he's gone?"
Harry nodded.
"Yeah, bring him up here if you can. I'd rather not deal with Lucius if I don't have to." Harry locked eyes with his father and shook his head. "We'll talk later and I'll give you the full rundown. She was looking through these when I got here, though I think she might have made off with some of them. They're Malfoy's financial records. Not sure what for though."
Sirius sighed and dropped into the chair next to the desk.
"It's gonna be a long night, isn't it?"
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A faint pop signaled Harry's arrival at his flat, a modest one bedroom place in muggle London. Just a small kitchen, sitting area, bathroom, and bedroom, but it suited him well. The neighbors never bothered him and he could make the place his own, something he decidedly couldn't do at any of the Potter residences.
It was late, or early, depending on how you viewed things, so he grabbed a butterbeer from the fridge, popped the top, and took a long sip before making his way over to the couch. He plopped down with a sigh. His body ached in protest. He'd refused a healer once they'd left Malfoy Manor and he was regretting it now. Everything hurt, the dangerous dance and traded blows had begun to make themselves known. He had some potions in his bathroom, but he couldn't be bothered to move.
The team had all but interrogated him for hours, Mr. Dupont had been extremely insistent on the act. It needed to be told while it was still fresh in his mind, the Frenchman had argued. Arsehole, as if pensives weren't a thing. Or maybe they weren't in France. He didn't care, he just knew he now hated that old bastard.
He had, of course, conveniently left out his rather…heated exchange with the mysterious woman.
A bloke doesn't kiss and tell.
He was taking another sip when he saw it sitting on the small table in front of his couch. If the moon wasn't full he'd never have seen it, the small piece of fabric folded neatly below the note on top. He took another sip and placed the drink on the floor. He'd dropped his wand in the kitchen, but he didn't sense any danger. He grabbed the note and opened it.
That was a fun date. You know how to show a girl a good time. I figured I'd give you something to remember me by.
Until next time, lover.
XOXO
He put the note down and picked up the item and it unfolded as he did. It was the scarf she had been wearing. He brought his free hand up to his face again and he could almost taste her lips on his. He gripped the scarf tightly and leaned back on the couch with a smile.
This would be fun. Potentially dangerous, but fun.
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"You did WHAT?!"
Fleur sighed as she poked at her food, rolling her eyes, and took another bite. He'd returned not long ago and she'd told him what she'd done, the little gift that she'd left for the British Auror. She glanced over at the empty vials and a smile almost crossed her lips. It was rare that she got into a fight, ever rarer with someone of such skill. Yet, she couldn't help but feel there was something…different about tonight. The way they moved, matched each other, it was almost as if their bodies had been working in harmony rather than against one another.
She was intrigued, and if she was being honest, just a tad bit turned on. She looked up.
"I broke into his flat and left my scarf," she repeated. "I don't see what the big deal is."
He fumed, throwing his hands up in the air as he paced in front of the small table.
"Don't see what the big deal is? Fleur, that could potentially tie this back to you!"
She waved a hand.
"I'm not a student at Beauxbatons anymore, Luc, I know what I'm doing," she shot back, offended that he would even entertain the thought that she wasn't careful. "I made sure it was clean. They're not going to find out it was me. Besides, I don't think he's going to tell anyone."
"And what makes you think that?"
She looked out the window at the night sky, taking in the moonlight as her mind wandered back to their fight.
"Something happened during the fight. I don't know, it's hard to explain. Maybe it was the excitement of the moment, maybe it was the lack of magic, I don't know, but something sparked between us."
Luc sighed and sat down, bringing a hand up to his face.
"What does that even mean?"
"It means he's intrigued about me, same as I am about him," she clarified.
"Harry Potter is not an idiot," Luc said before looking at her with a hard stare. "Don't forget why we're here."
She stood quickly, chair scraping against the floor as she placed both palms on the table, leaning over to send him a withering glare.
"No, I won't ever forget. Don't question my resolve, Luc Bennet. You were engaged to her but she was my sister. Her murderer will be brought to justice." She left the table and headed towards the bedroom, her appetite lost. She had work in a few hours and needed to get some sleep.
She turned back to look at him.
"Don't you forget that I'm not here for revenge. France holds nothing for me, what was there died the same day as Gabby. Once this is over my life will be here. Perhaps you should ensure you're not thinking of taking things too far."