AN: Just remember...I love you guys ok? Don't forget. *kisses*

Chapter 20 – VIII

Sometimes I think I'm in over my head. I feel that way quite a lot actually, but I'm also afraid to admit it. If I admit it, well, it becomes real and I'm not ready to deal with anything real, beyond the mounting pile of bodies. That's real enough I suppose.

I hadn't expected Molly Weasley to corner me at the impromptu Malfoy dinner. I'd been avoiding her, it was easier that way, but she followed me to the loo and I was trapped.

"My dear, it's been so long since I've seen you. I keep telling Arthur; one of these days she'll accept an invitation to the Burrow. Mark my words, but you haven't."

"I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley, I've been so busy…with the case, surely you understand."

"You must call me Molly. I've told you this. I know we weren't as close as we could have been and I haven't pressed you. I miss him too. I wish I had been able to see little Henry more. He was such a beautiful baby. He.."

"Mrs. W…Molly, I'm really quite famished. I'll owl you soon, promise."

I didn't want to think about her or all the memories she brought roaring to the surface. I missed them more than anything, but I couldn't show weakness. I liked Molly well enough, but she was always a bit…overbearing. It's funny to think of it now, but I met John because of her.

Molly and John were in King's Cross Station. She was headed for Platform 9 ¾ of course and well, John stepped in front of the trolley and was pushed directly through. Molly was horrified she had allowed a Muggle a glimpse into our world. I didn't blame her and it was incredibly amusing to see the incredulous expression on his face and the sparkle in his eyes.

I was about to board the Hogwart's Express for the last time when I spotted them. He was such a handsome man. I was intrigued and as no one was interested in lending a hand, I made my way toward them. It didn't take long for Molly to play matchmaker and before I knew it, I was promising to write him.

"He's a handsome young man, isn't he? I know you've had a difficult time since…"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley, really."

"Yes, yes of course you are! Wouldn't expect anything less really. No matter, I was just explaining to this delightful young man this is the train carrying the children to their very special school. He's a Muggle you see. I tapped him with my trolley and in he went." Molly chuckled with slight embarrassment, but John wasn't paying her any mind. He was staring at me.

"You should take him back through, Molly before you get yourself in a spot of trouble."

"His name is John and he works in Muggle London. Wouldn't it be lovely if she were to write you John? Perhaps I could bring you along and we could all have a spot of tea!" Molly clapped her hands as if she'd just spouted the most wonderful idea in the history of ideas.

It had started simple. I wasn't able to owl him directly, but the Ministry made allowances for such things. I simply sent my owl to the Ministry and their Muggle Relations department would send it off to John. It was awkward in the beginning, but it didn't take long for us to develop an easy sort of friendship.

I don't even know how it happened, falling in love with him I mean. It wasn't my intention regardless of Molly's scheming. I had just woken up one day and realised I missed him terribly. Apparently he had been feeling quite the same way and just after my graduation we married.

It was a small Muggle ceremony, for his parent's sake and it was beautiful. John had invited Molly, saying he wished to give credit where credit is due. We never would have met without her…and sometimes I can't help but wonder if that would have been best for all of us.

It wasn't but a few months later I fell pregnant. He wasn't expecting it and neither was I but we were far from pleased. It was a hard pregnancy. I was on so many Potions and cursing John by the end of it all. I wasn't sure I'd ever want to do it again, but then the choice was taken from me.

Henry decided he wished to make his appearance earlier than planned. John was in quite a tizzy, it would have been amusing if he hadn't almost forgotten me at home. He couldn't very well take me to St. Mungos and so I wound up in a Muggle hospital. I didn't have anything against them, not really, I was simply terrified. They were rushing about using medical terms I didn't understand, but something was wrong.

I don't remember much of what happened, besides the blinding pain. Muggles really needed to learn how to do something about that. It was excruciating. I heard Henry wail and before I could get a glimpse of him, he was being whisked away and there was this horrid beeping sound until it all faded to black.

Later, John would tell me they did everything they could. He held my hand, kissed my brow and even brought Molly to visit. It helped some, but I felt a bit robbed. I loved Henry, even though I hadn't set eyes on him, but because of some complication, he would always be the only child I'd ever have.

I was grateful in a way, because at least I had him. He was alive, he was beautiful and he was mine. John said it was alright. He said he didn't need a house filled with children. He only needed me and Henry. I loved him for that.

I couldn't help but wonder though…if the magical world would have been able to do more. I always found it hard to believe that a Healer's first reaction would be to remove and dismember instead of…heal. I suppose it doesn't matter now, thanks to the Muggles, I would never have another child. I suppose the silver lining to the entire debacle was I was completely ineligible for their Marriage Law. I couldn't imagine forcing myself to marry again. I only wanted John and he was long gone.

Australia is really a beautiful country. I can't say I had time to explore it or anything, but the idea of returning was a comforting thought. I wish I could say I spied a few kangaroos boxing in the street, but I didn't. I was forced to play the good little Ministry Official and escort confused Muggles back to England.

I wish they had been nasty. It would have made my apathetic attitude much easier to maintain. Hermione Granger's parents, whoever would have thought? Certainly not I. They seemed nice enough, though her mum was definitely rough around the edges. She was constantly shrieking as if we were going to harm her. I mean, the idea had absolutely crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. I couldn't imagine wrestling that wailing spoiled toddler from her arms in order to whisk her away.

I laughed to myself wondering if the Gryffindor Princess knew her parents had moved right along in their lives and had themselves another child. He was an adorable child; I had to give him that. He squirmed constantly and had a penchant for slapping his mother, but he was beautiful.

I didn't spend much time studying him. No, that could easily draw me away from my task at hand. Instead, I watched the father. He seemed utterly bored and fed up with his wife's antics, which I could understand completely. He seemed to be quite taken with Parkinson though. I could understand that. Pansy might drive me to the brink of insanity but she had a certain charm once you got used to her.

From the looks of things, it seemed Pansy was the complete opposite of Helen Granger. Before Goyle performed his magic and Helen Granger was Monica Wilkins, she was an absolute delight. Afterwards was a completely different, terrifying story.

I thought she'd never stop ranting and raving. Wendell, Paris, whatever his bloody name is wasn't particularly helpful when it came to calming her, but he put forth a good effort. She was positively hateful toward him and her son. It died down a bit, once Malfoy took the tot and left. Of course I was ordered to remain behind to clean the mess. It really was a mess, but quite honestly none of us knew what would happen once their memories were restored. It seemed the Grangers had a few skeletons in their closet.

I kept a close eye on Harry. He seemed to be the most affected by the blatant personality changes. It was strange to see him bewildered. I suppose it had happened before, but it had been so many years, there's no way to know. He sat with Mr. Granger for hours and while I wasn't close enough to properly eavesdrop, the body language spoke volumes. Harry had a soft spot for his friend's father. That intrigued me.

I hadn't originally considered harming Granger's family, but this was too much temptation. I didn't really care if my actions damaged Hermione. She's simply a byproduct. It comes with the territory of being friends with Harry Potter. Don't get me wrong, I fucking hate her, but now I'm leaning more toward apathy.

It would be difficult to formulate a proper plan without exposing myself, but perhaps it wouldn't be impossible. For a few moments at least, it looked as though Harry had almost convinced poor Mr. Granger to accompany us back to England. My hands were shaking, but I was careful to keep them out of sight. I didn't want to do anything that would give me away. When the sweat began dripping down my neck, I was reminded of those terrifying moments in the midst of the Malfoy dinner party.

Fucking Luna. It was easy to blame her because she had scared the bloody fuck out of me. Her predictions were uncanny to say the least and I had difficulty holding it together. I remembered the sweat pouring down my back and clutching that fucking goblet for all I was worth. Of course it would be Luna who had come the closest. It's not like I could condemn her, not really. I knew she was quite brilliant. She wouldn't have been Sorted into Ravenclaw otherwise.

I wasn't particularly close with her; I wasn't close with any of them. Marietta I suppose was the closest thing I had to a best mate. I barely spoke to her after the debacle at Hogwarts. She really should have known better than to succumb to the likes of Umbridge. When I killed her? She still had the slightest trace of 'Sneak' across her forehead. She wasn't part of the plan; she had just made me so fucking angry I couldn't help myself.

She didn't know anything. She didn't know what it felt like to be loved. She didn't know the worry which came along with giving yourself so completely to someone else you couldn't draw the line from where they ended and you began. She'd never had a child and been consumed with a love that bordered on ferocity. She had burned every bridge to ever exist in the Wizarding World and it wasn't as if she could go gadding about with Muggles. The first thing they would do is ask 'what is that shit on your forehead?'

Marietta always did have a bit too much nerve for my liking. I suppose that's why I hardly blinked as I killed her. Michael on the other hand, was simply a bore. A creepy, disgusting sort of bore, but a bore just the same. He had discovered John's death. Apparently he had a few relatives in his family tree who were Muggles. It was the worst coincidence. I couldn't have him telling people! It's my secret to bear. My skin was crawling simply by being in close proximity to him and I wondered how I had ever managed. Of course Ginevra Weasley had dated him and she hadn't faired any better than I. Disgusting human being and I rid the world of him. I think I should be commended.

Quite frankly I should converge on Molly Weasley in order to protect myself more than anything. Of course it would hurt Harry terribly, not to mention Ron and even Hermione. Perhaps Ron would even blame Harry if I happened to carve a very special message into her skin, but I couldn't do that. I couldn't maim Molly. I couldn't watch the life flicker from her eyes. Even I have limits; therefore I shan't touch a hair on Molly's head. John adored her and while I might be destroying my life, I refused to take hers.

"Mr. Granger, Paris, I'm simply asking you to consider it." That caught my attention. Pansy was strengthening the wards to keep other Muggles away as well as certain necessary Charms to keep Mrs. Granger safely ensconced in her home.

"Harry my boy; you know I've always been fond of you. Even when you were dragging my daughter into the depths of a danger I couldn't understand, but things are different now. I can't leave Helen behind and she's in no condition to travel. You heard what she said. I don't think it would be in our best interest really. Hermione's better off."

"How can you say that? You're her parents! I'd do anything, anything at all to have my parents and you're just throwing it all away!" It was always amusing to see Harry Potter get so worked up. He always had a bit of a temper, well not as bad as Ronald Weasley's, but there was always this rage sort of bubbling beneath the surface. I suppose it was why he's always been so reckless.

I had considered Astoria for half a second, yet I couldn't imagine creating another orphan, or even a motherless child. I wouldn't want another angst ridden mini-Harry Potter terrorizing the wizarding world. If I had my way, there would be no one left to blame for his status, which would make him exactly like his father and Merlin forbid that were to happen.

"Harry, you don't understand. I know you've always resented not having parents and your upbringing without them was less than stellar. I understand your animosity; however, if I were to allow Helen to remain in Hermione's life, she wouldn't be better off. Helen was simply never cut out for children and I shouldn't have pressed her. It's my fault you see. I was being selfish. I should have been happy to simply have her, but I wanted children and look what its' gotten me? I wasn't prepared to be a parent, not either time. Troy was, well he was a bit of an accident really and I wasn't a very good father to him. I wasn't a good father to Hermione either. Helen needs me. She's terribly ill and I fear that bringing back our memories has only made it worse. I'd really prefer…do you think…?"

"You want me to remove them don't you?" Harry sighed heavily and it was obvious the decision weighed him down heavily, but even I could see the logic in it.

I almost felt sorry for them, almost. Then the burning animosity set in. They had children and they were throwing them away because they were inconvenient? How dare they? How dare they have a child and treat it so poorly the child spends their entire life compensating for the lack of love. I bet Hermione never even realised it was lack of love on their part. No wonder she's such an overachieving bint. I can't even blame her anymore and that makes me angry as well.

"I'd be much obliged, Harry."

"I'll consider it on one condition." I was busying myself with the shards of china decorating the white tile in the kitchen, but I could scarcely breathe. I know Harry. Of course I've always known him to a certain extent, but after years of working with him in such close proximity, I knew exactly what he was going to say. I was practically giddy with joy.

"You want me to visit her." Mr. Granger sighed, but he didn't say no. He glanced over at me and I managed a small, encouraging smile.

By all means Mr. Granger, please come to England. There's a lovely spot near a serene lake I'd love to show you and wouldn't it be lovely to die someplace breathtakingly beautiful? I'm sure you'd agree.

I had to be careful. If Paris Granger became my next victim, my cover would be blown. I couldn't be certain it wasn't already with theories like Lovegood's floating around. It was only a matter of time before Hermione Granger's overbearing yet impressive brain began putting all the pieces together. She'd be hesitant at first, second guessing herself. She'd attempt to bring the matter to Harry's attention, but he wouldn't hear of it. The Boy Who Lived was unwaveringly loyal; even I had to give him that. No, the problem wasn't with her or even with Harry, it was Draco Malfoy.

He wasn't on my list, but sometimes I felt as though I should make an exception. I would, if it were not for the fact it would make Harry Potter and Ron Weasley deliriously happy. I tried to avoid evoking such emotion in either of them. Draco Malfoy could become quite a formidable opponent if he had his head in the game. He was distracted, which made everything just a bit easier for me, but I knew it was only a matter of time before a singular moment of clarity would have his eyes trained on me.

"Oi! You haven't heard a bloody thing I've said have you? You disgust me. I can't understand why Malfoy decided to drag you here. As if we have need of a bloody Cleaner."

"Listen here Potter, you're not Lead on this particular case so you need to get over yourself." Harry was always so easy to rile. It amused me to watch the range of emotions pass over his face before he rubbed his scar. He was frustrated, it was his tell and no matter how many times he was told by the Minister no less to learn to control it, he never managed.

"Look. I'm going to stay behind a few days. I have a rapport with the Grangers and I think it would be in Hermione's best interest if she were able to have closure where they're concerned. Malfoy has already returned to London with Troy, Goyle is going to stay with me to ensure their wellbeing. Why don't you return with Parkinson. There's obviously nothing here which requires your particular expertise and I think it would be best for all parties involved if we weren't forced to work together any longer."

"My particular expertise? Are you referring to my traumatizing liaison with your best mate? My, my, I never knew Harry Potter was capable of being facetious. I think you've a bit of misplaced anger, Harry. If my memory serves me right, I believe it was your mate that came on to me and when all was said and done was quite brutal about it." I didn't bother pretending to be demure and sweet. There was no need for pretenses with Harry; he wouldn't have believed it anyway.

"You're vile. Y-you tricked him somehow. Ron's not like that. I've never seen him like that before, it's your fault. Yo-you seduced him and…" I was tired of listening to him stammer about with ridiculous statements he didn't even believe. He was grasping at straws and it was pathetic.

"Whatever it takes to ease your conscience, isn't that right Harry? It's not as if you've ever taken advantage of anyone yea?" I smiled, giving him a bit of a wink. Everyone's always put him on a pedestal as if he were the best thing the wizarding world has ever seen and truth is he's just like everyone else.

"I-I-I don't know what you're talking about. You're bloody daft!" It was the doubt in those familiar green eyes which let me know I had won. It wasn't my intention to argue with him, but who was I to resist temptation? I could see the small beads of sweat on his brow and for some reason it was empowering.

"Really Harry? Are you quite sure about that? I mean, I seem to recall one particular moment during our Hogwarts days. It was a few years ago at least, so I'm having the slightest bit of trouble remembering the circumstances. Oh wait, never mind, I've got it. Yes, it was after a particularly invigorating session of D.A. You remember D.A., don't you Harry? There was a poor sad girl there, weeping over the loss of her boyfriend. Surely you remember Cedric Diggory, don't you Harry? She was quite sad and she was crying if I remember correctly. Do you remember what you did?" Harry's chest was heaving and I took a moment to revel in his unease. I could feel my rage bubbling just beneath the surface and my hands shook with the exertion of remaining calm.

"I kissed her." His lips barely moved, but I heard him and that was all I needed.

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get blood out of robes? You'd think they'd make them impervious to such stains considering the history of the wizarding world, but no. It was just as bad as attempting to remove the stains from Muggle clothing. My hands were red and chapped from the effort and I had half a mind to simply dispose of them, but they were my favourite robes.

I couldn't risk leaving a trace of myself behind. You'd be surprised by the technological advances Muggles were making in forensics. John was obsessed with the telly and I spent many a night cuddled into his side while he explained the various crime programs.

"You see that love? He thought he washed away every speck of his blood, but he missed a spot. A small spot did he him in. That gent there didn't wear gloves; they tracked him based on his fingerprints."

"Yes John, I've learned a very important lesson."

"What's that then?"

"Well, to always properly clean the crime scene when I'm done dismembering my victim."

I couldn't help but smile. Gods I missed him and sometimes the moments sort of snuck up on me and I was completely overwhelmed with the emptiness within.

After I healed my sore, chapped, red hands, I turned toward the rest of the flat. It was a nice place I supposed. There wasn't much light and the bustle of the street was entirely too loud for my taste, but it wasn't my flat so what did it matter?

The windows were small and a bit grimy, the furniture was old and shabby but it wasn't dirty. It was lived in and had a certain charm. There were no photos on the wall; the painting over the fireplace was ripped along the corner, marring the waves crashing on the shore. I couldn't help but wonder how the resident in question had wound up here.

There was something decidedly calming knowing I could take my time. I threw my head back and laughed. It felt completely freeing to laugh. I probably sounded a bit mental, but let's face it…I am.

What I really needed was a place to dump the body. Could you believe he was surprised when I thrust my wand into his face? As if he hadn't seen it coming! Stupid man. It wasn't as if I was hiding myself from him or anything. He saw me, he saw my wand and the fear in his eyes was palpable and yet still he was shocked. Ridiculous. I was never keen on murdering imbeciles, but on the other hand it did make the world a better place. Shame I didn't have the opportunity to snatch his son. That would have been the pièce de résistance.

He blubbered a bit, downright crying even but I'd long since grown apathetic to the pleadings of the dead. He didn't understand. He tried to offer me money, but looking at his surroundings he didn't have much. I couldn't help but wonder where his wife had gone off too. It looked as if she hadn't been around for awhile.

I rifled through some drawers out of curiosity and discovered a worn letter. The corner was ripped, the words were smudged, but there was enough for me to get the gist of it.

I can't live like this, not anymore. You're bloody obsessed with him. We have the right to have a life. Not everything is about him. He's been out of our lives for years. When are you going to let it go? I love you, you know I do and when you're ready to move on, you know where to find me.

Aww, now isn't that sweet? There's no accounting for taste. I didn't wish to spend another second in the shabby flat, but I still had work to do. It wasn't a difficult matter flipping the dead man onto his stomach. Magic really is such a wonderful thing. I rid him of his clothes, knelt down beside him and got to work.

I only had a few runes to carve. It wasn't nearly as difficult as the diatribe I had carved into Fleur. I heard she was doing quite well, though a bit skittish and her pregnancy was progressing nicely. Bitch. I didn't hate her; I recognised the jealousy for what it was. It wasn't just her, I wasn't particular. I hated all of them and their happy fucking lives while I wallowed in a misery that I couldn't bypass.

When I was finished carving the simply runes into his back, I Disillusioned him. I couldn't walk down the street hauling a mutilated body, even if I was in Muggle London. I would have to be careful. I couldn't very well stroll along asking for a taxi to my destination as myself. No, I would most definitely have to wear Susannah.

It was risky, but that was part of the thrill. It didn't take but a moment to transform into the tall, sinewy, buxom blonde. After that it was easy. I found an old trunk stashed in the small bedroom and stuffed him in it. I know, I know, it's a bit of overkill to Disillusion him and stuff him in a trunk, but better safe than sorry.

A simple wingardium leviosa and I was standing on the street with a tatty trunk, waving down a taxi. It really was quite a beautiful day. Do you think he was thinking of the weather before I killed him?

The taxi driver was a sweet dark man. He struggled with the trunk and I couldn't resist aiding him a bit. It wasn't his fault there was a body in it, now was it? It wouldn't do to have him injure himself on my account.

"Thank you much, miss. Where can I take you?" He bowed slightly, crumpling his hat in his hands before he closed the door tightly. He was a bit bow legged and it took him a minute to get into the taxi. He smiled in the rearview mirror, waiting patiently. I returned his smile and sighed.

"Little Whinging."