I just updated yesterday, but here we are! This chapter will answer questions and yet leave you with more. So do be patient, yeah? If this was a novel, you wouldn't have to wait, but alas! (If this was a novel, you'd also have to pay and I would be rich.) Hmm. Win-Win?

Thanks to all those who rev'ved. Y'all rev my engine. (Even though that means something else entirely :P)- ainat92, euphoenix, XXXmeggie-loves-to-readXXX, Tishica, Roseweasley85, Sundance1989, Love without expectation, SaruDM, arrrgghimapiratenow, amy, AA, Rachel, lilbuddie715, Cass, TheInnerMusingsOfMe and a-riggs2011.

Also, big thanks to all those who've alerted/favourited recently. Please do leave a review, I'd love to hear from you all while I still can! Edwardluvv, Jalice Hale, Darthjontan, kcastillo11, meganwastaken, Mrs Kerryn Potter, squibalicious and RAINaraina.

Okay, onwards!

Chapter 20:

Gallagher jerked awake with a snort, the newspaper slipping from his grasp with a rustle. He rubbed his eyes, bending to pick it up. His senses registered the chaos around him, and he clambered laboriously to his feet, bewildered.

"Here, what's going on?" he demanded, cuffing a healer bustling past pompously.

The woman turned to face him, looking frantic. "Death in the Janus Thickey ward. I have to go-the patients are completely off their rockers."

The old auror jolted with surprise as he recognized the name of the ward. A trickle of apprehension crept in, threatening to turn into full-blown panic.

"Death you say?" he croaked. "Er-natural, was it?"

The woman turned back to face him, plucking her sleeve from his grasp. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she looked him over. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to disclose details regarding the individual concerned." She said coolly.

Gallagher found himself puffing up indignantly, his ego bruised by this denial of his supreme right to know anything of interest. "I'm with the ministry, I am. Jim Gallagher, Reinstated Auror, third class."

The healer's eyes widened at this. "I see," she said slowly, as if turning his statement over in her head. Jim prepared to be led straight into the JT Ward. "Auror, are you?" she said, face purpling. Her eye twitched frighteningly. "Auror? Sitting outside the ward where a man has just been murdered?"

Gallagher's jaw dropped open, face aghast. "M-murdered?" He asked, as if he'd never heard the word before.

"Yes," she spat. "Murdered. Would you like to see?" She added acerbically.

The auror's mouth flapped soundlessly for a while.

"Er-who did you say died again?" He asked weakly.

"Oh, this old man." She consulted a clipboard, peering at it for a moment. "Ivan Karkaroff? So, would you like to see the victim?"

She looked up expectantly. Gallagher nodded, head feeling heavy.

"Oh, yes, absolutely," He managed to say, before tipping over backwards and fainting.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The owl battered the window with its beak, leaving rather noticeable pockmarks in the glass. Rose hastened to open it, ducking as the owl flew over her head, claws catching in her hair.

"Ruddy bird…" she muttered, smoothing it down. "What have you got for me, hmm?"

The owl hooted dolefully, holding out a leg to be tended to. Rose carefully untied the parchment, owl hopping restlessly as he did so.

Unfurling the parchment, she spared a glance at the bird as it took off, landing on top of the fridge.

Dear Rosie,

I MISS YOU, WOMAN.

Natalie is driving me nuts. I'm half wishing she reads this letter (wouldn't put it past her to intercept our mail) just so I have an excuse to hex her pants off. Well, maybe not her pants as that really just implies other things, but perhaps a few essential organs would do the trick?

We've started collecting dark artifacts from the pyramid now. There was this one really crazy mummy who sprang to life, insisting that Michael (my boyfriend! I pointed him out to you at the dance.) marry her instantly and free her from her curse (of celibacy, I think). Naturally, we got rid of her- was v. fun. We set her on to this one ghoul wandering around in one of the chambers and they're getting along splendidly.

Monster love is so inspiring. The Bitch is running a tight ship- she's been in a foul mood since you guys left and spent one hour screaming at me for using too much hair gel. (It was just a pea-drop! Honest!) Apparently my hair is 'emanating toxic fumes which are detrimental to the health of those within a radius of forty kilometers blah blah blah'. I don't think she deals with rejection very well.

Oh, good news- Millie isn't being sent home. Gnat wanted to pack her off, but we took a collective decision and overthrew her tyrannical rule. She said some rather crude words to me regarding my sexual preference and in retaliation, we're going to put love potion in her pumpkin juice. (Have successfully gathered DNA from aforementioned mummy for such purpose). Results will be interesting to observe.

Let's see what she has to say about my 'taste' after that.

How are things on your end? Have you gotten over your morning-after awkwardness yet? Certainly hope so, I think you ought to give this Scorpius bloke a chance- he's completely smitten. (Lucky you!)

Anyway, my lunch break is almost over. Must go check on how love potion is progressing. I think Nate was tending to it last...his potion skills better be up to scratch.

Write back, or I'll kill you.

Love,

Adam.

Rose smiled as she finished reading the letter, pulling a roll of blank parchment from a shelf. She stared at it blankly for a while before realizing that she needed a quill and ink. Galvanizing herself into activity, Rose accio-ed the implements, sitting down at the dining table to compose her reply.

She was glad for the distraction. Just 24 hours alone in her apartment and she was going mad. It was odd how accustomed she'd grown to having Scorpius around all the time. The flat felt eerily empty now, with just her as its occupant. And it didn't help that each time she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye or heard a strange sound, her heart would start hammering painfully, her insides constricting with fear.

As if the thought had flown from her mind and materialized, a strange rustle caught her attention and she spun on her heel, eyes darting around. She felt ridiculous, the way she did each time this happened, when she realized the sound was simply Adam's owl getting into a more comfortable position on its perch.

She was unnerved by how…insecure she felt now that Scorpius wasn't around. She'd lived by herself for about three years now but suddenly she couldn't help but think how unsafe it was for someone to live completely alone. And as much as it stung to admit it, she missed the stupid prat's company.

Without him hanging around cracking jokes and innuendos and generally distracting her, it was hard to keep from falling into paranoia and depression.

Shaking her head free of her morbid thoughts, she set quill to parchment and began scribbling her reply.

Minutes ticked by as she filled an entire scroll, until finally she had to force herself to set down the quill which was looking considerably worse for the wear. She blushed as she realized exactly how long her letter was- it could have been mistaken for a transfiguration essay at first glance.

It was as the Egyptian owl was flying away again, a black speck in the sky that her depression seemed to become tangible. Well, okay, so it wasn't depression as such...it was…loneliness. And loneliness made for a terrible combination with fear.

It was silly but it had somehow been better with the bird there. Now she was alone again and suddenly, the small flat seemed too constricting for her, the air too stifling.

Rose clutched her head, raking her fingers through her long hair till her hand fell back at her side.

I can't stay here.

She would go mad if she was alone for another second. Adam's letter had offered temporary respite but now it was worse than ever.

Tucking her wand into the waistband of her jeans and pocketing some muggle money, she headed for the door, stopping at the last minute.

Hastily tearing a scrap of parchment off the end of a roll, she scribbled a quick message.

Have gone into muggle London, am safe.

-Rose

She stared at what she'd written, heart heavy as she realized that nobody would even see the message. She'd gotten used to having to tell someone where she was going but of course, Scorpius wouldn't be walking out of the spare bedroom to check on her every few minutes.

Crumpling up the note, she tossed it in the rubbish bin on her way out.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I'm fine, you know."

"No, you're not." Scorpius said, flipping through the daily prophet, gaze unfocused.

His father snorted derisively and muttered something incoherent.

"I ought to know whether I'm fine or not…"

Scorpius looked up from his paper, fixing Draco Malfoy with a baleful glare.

"What in Merlin's name possessed you to wander around Knockturn Alley at a time like this? The manor is perfectly safe, why couldn't you stay in there until we'd gotten this mess with the murderer sorted out? If you hadn't managed to apparate away…" he left the sentence hanging.

Draco rolled his eyes, buffing his nails against the sheets as he reclined on his hospital bed. He had a private room, of course. There was no way he was sharing with the common rabble…

"I'm an adult, Scorpius. An adult who happens to have given you the gift of life. Be more respectful."

Scorpius huffed in response, glaring daggers at an article on Twisting Turnips.

"Bloody irresponsible…"

Draco yawned and lay back, looking completely bored. "This is so dull." He complained. "Why can't I leave already? I'm perfectly fine now."

Scorpius restrained himself from rolling his eyes with great effort. "Dad, really? You had an unforgivable used on you. Is it really surprising that they want to keep you here for a couple of days? Speaking of which," he leaned forward urgently. "Are you absolutely one hundred percent sure that you didn't see your assailant's face?"

"For Salazar's sake, Scorpius! No, I did not see the face of the bastard who attacked me. If I had, he'd be dead by now, I can assure you." He added haughtily.

Scorpius broke into a smirk at this. "Really? And I suppose it'd be you who'd track him down and kill him?"

"Of course not," Draco drawled. "I'd set your mother on him. The poor man would be begging for death by the time she'd be through with him."

The two men shared a laugh at the killer's expense, imagining Astoria Malfoy armed with a wand and a designer handbag setting all hell loose on some unsuspecting chap.

"Scorpius…" Draco said slowly.

He glanced up, giving his dad a questioning look. "Yeah?"

"Do you still like that Weasley girl? The one you've been guarding."

Scorpius started at this, face shutting down for a moment. He set aside the paper, turning his full attention to his dad; there was no point in prevaricating. "I do, actually." He said, unhesitant. "How could you tell?"

His dad turned to face him, propping himself up on his pillows. "You have that look on your face again. That horribly unattractive expression you used to get after a fight with her. Merlin knows, you looked like a gargoyle for months after she broke up with you."

Scorpius scowled at him. "Thanks," he said dryly. "I really needed to hear that."

Draco looked uncomfortable, seemingly struggling to say something.

"Look…I know that I didn't take you seriously when you told me about her all those years back. I thought it was another one of those rebellious things you did just to irk me-like putting up Chudley Cannon posters on my wardrobe with permanent sticking charms- and I thought you'd, you know….get what you needed from her and move on."

The younger Malfoy fixed his dad with a disgusted glare. "I'd really rather not talk about-"

"-Just listen, will you? The only reason I put up with it at all is because she is related to Granger and Pothead. I'm not proud of it but I'm not ashamed either. I still think it would be an advantageous connection. But-" He spoke quickly, talking over Scorpius' words as he tried to speak. "I can see that what you feel for this girl- er, Rose- is clearly beyond lust." Scorpius made a disgusted face at hearing his dad referring to his sex drive. "What I'm trying to say," He finished, "is that if you still like this girl, then I won't stand in your way. You, er, have your old man's approval if that counts for anything."

Scorpius blinked, surprised. This was a first and definitely not something which would ever have crossed Draco Malfoy's lips if he really were at the peak of his health. Clearly, his dad was a bit delusional if he was discussing feelings but Scorpius wasn't going to look a gift hippogriff in the mouth.

"It does," he said quietly to an embarrassed Draco who was determinedly not meeting his eyes. "It counts for a lot, Dad. But…I'm not sure where things are with Rose right now. She-Well, we'll see." He said heavily, not wanting to elaborate on the topic.

His dad simply nodded stiffly, accepting his words as they were. Both men were unwilling to drag the topic on for longer than was absolutely necessary.

Scorpius settled back in his chair, the time passing idly as he flicked through the paper.

There was a sudden hammering at the door as someone pounded on it furiously, completely disregarding the fact that they were in a hospital.

The door swung open slightly, revealing Alec Zabini's tanned face. "Scorp," he hissed. "Mate, it's a disaster! Er- can I come in?" he asked, finally glancing at the bedridden Draco who was observing the proceedings with a raised eyebrow.

Scorpius stood up instantly, motioning for Zabini to enter. The Italian did so, shutting to door behind him for privacy. "What is it?"

Alec's eyes flicked to Draco and then back to the blond in front of him as he spoke uncertainly. "It's Karkaroff. He's dead."
Scorpius' breath caught as he realized the ramifications of this. "Fuck! When?"

"This morning. Okay, look, I have to go- the auror they'd put on the JT ward is an incompetent little shit-I have to go sort out the body, make sure we get any evidence possible."

Zabini nodded to him and then to Draco, slipping back out the door.

Silence reigned as Scorpius raked a hand through his hair, mind instantly locking in on Rose- Rose who was alone and one of the deranged killer's main targets.

He felt physically ill as he realized his hands were tied- he had to take care of his father, he couldn't just leave…

"Scorpius."

He looked up sharply, realizing he was perspiring slightly from sheer nerves.

"Scorpius, go."

"What?" He said, incredulous. Was his father really telling him to leave?

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes at his less than eloquent son. "I know you want to go protect that Weasley girl and I'm telling you to go do it." He headed Scorpius off again, waving a pale hand. "I'll be fine, this place is swarming with aurors right now. There's no way a killer is getting in here."

Scorpius shifted indecisively, part of him wanting to stay and another, louder part telling him to stop wasting time and move.

His dad's eyes narrowed as he continued to dawdle. "Are you leaving or do I have to tell your mother about the stack of Playwitch magazines you hide under your bed?"

"You wouldn't!"

"Is that a fact?"

"Alright, Alright, old man! I'm leaving!"

XXXXXXXX

He picked up the crumpled paper, straightening it with his palms.

Having read it, he smiled and folded it into precise rectangles, dropping the chit into his pocket for safekeeping.

Then, humming a merry tune which suited his unusually jovial mood, he left the tiny apartment, sauntering away as if he hadn't a care in the world.

XXXXXXXX

The pub was unsurprisingly empty. There were a few hardcore patrons, of course, who considered it proper to be drunk in the middle of the day and the staff, flitting occasionally between tables or polishing glasses.

If it weren't for the lack of dodgy characters and the strange items listed on the bar menu, it could have passed for a wizarding joint. As it was, she was in a muggle pub with the jolly title of The Headless Woman.

She wondered what could possibly have possessed the owner to settle upon such a hideous name. But then again, maybe this was how muggles got their thrills- by visiting places with creepy names to make up for the lack of ghosts, ghouls, hags, werewolves and actual headless women.

As she pondered this while nursing a beer- the barmaid had given her a funny look when she'd asked for tea and this 'beer' stuff sounded like butterbeer- she noticed a man in a bulky overcoat making his way to her corner table.

His hands were deep in his pockets, an easy smile fixed on his aged face. Rose tensed slightly, straightening up to fix him with an unfriendly look.

"May I sit here?" He asked, grasping the back of the chair across from her. He was comfortably seated even before she'd had the opportunity to voice out her vehement "No."

She watched as he drew off his black gloves, stowing them away neatly into a pocket.

"I'd like to be alone, if you don't mind, actually." She said evenly.

The man smoothed down his hair- It had evidently been black at one time but had now acquired a salt and pepper look, which went with the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. Rose noted apprehensively that unlike her grandparents, this man had no smile lines.

"That's not very polite." He said finally. "Didn't your parents teach you any manners? Or were they too busy indulging themselves with all that money they stumbled upon?"

Rose's hand shot towards her wand, but even as she watched, the man across from her snapped his fingers lazily and the wooden stick flew straight to his hand.

"You're a wizard." She said, voice calm but nerves jangled.

The old man looked amused, glancing at her appreciatively. "Indeed." He turned the wand over in his hand looking at it with mild curiosity. "Blackwood wand, twelve inches, supple, good for charmwork; Very nice. What's the core?"

Rose watched with horrified disbelief as he braced the wand between his fingers and snapped it in two, sparks emitting from the break. "Oh, a phoenix feather! How predictable."

She realized she was gaping and closed her mouth with a resounding snap, back teeth clicking together. "You-you just-"

The man tucked the wand pieces into another pocket of his leather coat, patting it contentedly.

"Children shouldn't be allowed to play with weapons."

Rose flushed, starting to her feet. "I don't know who you think you are but I'm lea-"

"Sit. Down."

Rose wavered uncertainly on the spot, glancing between him and the door which seemed a long way off. A few of the more lucid muggles tossed her questioning glances.

Slowly, Rose sank back down onto her seat, knees weak.

"Now, Rose," the man steepled his fingers, peering at her over them. "I would very much like to know who you think I am."

Rose swallowed, turning her attention to his face. There was something vaguely familiar about the graying hair, the dark eyes- no, it was gone. She had never seen him before.

She shook her head mutely.

The man looked disappointed for a brief moment. "Nothing? No ideas whatsoever? Not even a tiny little inkling? Oh, very well, very well. I suppose I'll just have to introduce myself then."

He held out a lily-white hand, smiling in a way that should have been charming but came off as repulsive and sinister.

"Edgar Bones at your service, Ms. Weasley."

A chill ran down Rose's spine as the name registered in her mind, her eyes scrutinizing every inch of his face to detect a resemblance to the man in the photo she had seen in Godric's hollow.

To her horror, she found it.

"You-you're dead. You're supposed to be dead," she blurted out, fingers digging into the tabletop.

The man frowned at her. "Am I? Aah, but yes, of course I am." He chuckled as if he'd just told a wildly hilarious joke. "You would think so, wouldn't you?"

His lips twisted into a sneer as he regarded her. Then, wrenching his gaze from her, he turned to snap his fingers at a waitress. She hurried over, scooping up a menu on the way.

"What can I get you?"

He smiled at her, resting a hand on her waist. The woman glanced at him and blushed, inching away slightly. "Red wine for me and something strong for the lady. She's having a terrible day."

The woman tittered lightly, casting a glance at Rose, nodding as she took in her pasty complexion.

"I'll get her a Vodka." She smiled at the man- at Edgar, and swayed back to her post at the bar, teetering slightly in her heels.

Rose seemed to be experiencing tunnel vision as he turned back to her, adjusting his coat slightly. "Well," he said. "I suppose in true villainous fashion, I had best explain myself to you.

"As you've probably already guessed, I'm the…ahh, the 'killer' as the wildly inspired moniker goes. I'm rather disappointed they didn't give me a gruesome nickname, something to impress the fellows with- assuming there were any fellows to impress, of course." He paused as the waitress came back, depositing a stemmed glass of red wine in front of him and an insipid liquid in front of her.

"Who are you?" Rose demanded, causing the waitress to glance up curiously from her tray.

The man's eyes flashed with anger, acquiring a manic gleam which made Rose glad she was already sitting down.

The woman spared another glance at them as she bustled off, leaving them alone again.

"I thought I'd made it rather clear that I am, indeed, Edgar Bones, ex-member of the original Order of the Phoenix, supposed dead along with his parents, wife and two children." He smiled crookedly at her over the rim of his raised wine glass. "Cheers."

Rose tried to wrap her mind around the notion that he was probably telling the truth. "Why…why are you-why did you…?"

"Are you trying to ask why it is that I kill?"

Rose nodded, mind whirling with confusion.

"Well, why don't you kill?"

She gaped at him, wondering if he was serious. "Because I don't have a reason to?"

"Well, there you have it!" He said, waving a hand, as if illustrating a point. "I 'kill' because I do have a reason. And really, is it actually 'killing' when all my victims are soulless monsters with far more blood on their hands than I?"

Rose bristled at this, some of her sense returning to her. "That's ridiculous!" she snapped. "What about those aurors? What about Ivan? And what about me?"

Bones held up a finger, taking a meditative sip of his drink. "This 'exposing of dastardly schemes' is a rather trying business. Do have patience. Now let me see…" he gazed thoughtfully at the red liquid, swirling it a little. "The aurors- ahh yes. Well, they're all corrupt little buggers anyway aren't they? The ministry's little tin soldiers. Where were these aurors during the wars? Hiding behind the ministry's robes of course. I certainly didn't see any of them risking their lives for the 'commoners'. I don't see any of them posted at the wizarding prison. And I certainly don't see them doing much these days, what with allowing death eaters and killers to run around unheeded as long as they make sizeable 'donations' to the ministry."

"Is that what this is about?" Rose asked scathingly. "You're pissed off because a handful of death eaters were granted clemency. And so naturally, the only course of action was to kill them?"

Bones shrugged, finishing his drink. "I am merely reinstating the moral balance in this world."

Rose stared at him, no longer thinking of escaping. This…he was mad.

"You're mad." She said, unable to keep a hint of awe from her tone.

"That's a matter of opinion. As for Ivan, well his case was rather more personal. His brother Igor killed my wife- that wasn't all he did, of course-" His face twisted into a scowl as he said this. "and my children. I felt it only right to…collect my debt, as it were."

Rose's head was pounding from the excess of information, from the enormity of the situation as she grasped the fact that the elusive killer, the psychotic madman who had murdered at the very least twenty men was sitting in front of her, drinking wine and spilling his life story. Oh, and also, the small fact that he ought to have died about a bazillion years back.

"And…and what about me?" She asked carefully, heart speeding up as she anticipated his answer.

The man looked surprised, but it was clearly an act. "You? I'm afraid I don't understand."

Why was he making her say it? Was she signing her own death warrant?

"Why do you want kill me?" She asked slowly.

"Good heavens, is that what you think? Don't be silly girl. I don't want to kill you. If I did, you'd have been dead already."

"So then-So then why-?"

"Well," He said, leaning forward, his voice dropping an octave. "the thing is, there's something I need you to do for me. Something only you can do."

Rose wet her lips, pulse audible in her ears as she stared at the grinning face in front of her. "And what would that be?"

"I want you to kill Draco Malfoy."

A/N: Eck! Now you know who the killer is! Did any of you guess it right?

By the way, I anticipated this question so I'm going to answer it here: You're probably wondering how such an old dude can possible be alive and healthy enough to go around on killing sprees. Well, chew on this- Dumbledore was 150 years old when he died! JK said so! Wizards are the shiznit.

I'm also fairly sure you didn't expect that ending. And that you are now confused as to what I could possibly be doing. I swear it makes sense! You'll see!

Heeh. Oh, I put in some Adam. Everyone wants a slice of Adam Pie.

I have started a Fulfillment Journal which is going to help me mature into a well-rounded individual. Some may say that the FJ is merely a glorified diary but those people are ignorant buffoons. Just you watch, the FJ is going to turn me into a sophisticated lady who only abuses every third word or so.

Review?