January 19, 2004

1:11 AM

Interrogation and Holding Cells at the Ministry of Magic

"How long have we had him?" Kingsley asked his aid as they rushed down to the end of the hall. This hall housed every criminal awaiting trial in Wizarding England. However, it also housed one who would certainly become the first person to ever be condemned to die if he went to trial.

However, Kingsley, being the diplomat that he was, figured that he could save this man. If he gave the information they wanted, that is.

"Weasley brought him in an hour ago." one of the Minister's junior aides said as he struggled to keep up with the length of the Minister's strides.

"Good. No press?"

"No one's been notified that we know of." his aides confirmed.

"Wonderful." Kingsley said as they reached the last door. Without a moment's hesitation, Kinglsey burst inside the room. Inside was Ron Weasley, one-third of the Golden Trio and one of the best young Aurors they had. With him was his partner, John Dawlish, who due to his work with Voldemort's Ministry and a long list of stupid decisions, was actually the Junior partner of the pair. Needless to say, it wasn't him that caught the man who was on the other side of the glass.

The room was laid out just like any other interrogation room. In the middle of the room was a viewing window that connected two rooms. On one side, the side they were on now, was the viewing area. It was here that those working for the prosecution watched as criminals spilled their guts all over the room. On the other side was the interrogation room. Mildly different from the typically Muggle room, there was only a single chair in the room. On the outside of the chair was a circle. When the suspect was brought in, they were seated in the chair. Then, the room was "activated." Any attempt by either part to cross the line would result in a horrifying jolt. The room itself was the brainchild of one, Harry Potter.

"Minister." Ron said as he noticed the Minister walk into the room. He slowly turned and extended his hand, taking the Minister's hand firmly. "We've got him."

"Fantastic work, Ron." Kingsley beamed. "Were you waiting for me to start the show?"

"We were, actually." Ron said with a smile as he nodded to the guard in the corner. The guard opened the door to the interrogation room and nodded to the other guard inside. Seeing this, that guard opened his door. Instantly, someone was pushed roughly through the door. The guard grabbed them and walked them roughly to the chair, throwing them down into it. He leaned in and gave the man a warning before turning and nodding to the guard on Ron's side.

He knew this meant that they were ready to go. Ron slowly walked through the door, file in hand, ready to begin.

The moment the door closed behind him, he could feel the energy of the room, just like he had been able to every other time that he had used this room. Ron stared at the man for a moment before stepping behind the suspect, so that he couldn't see him.

"The Champion. The Bolt. The Elite. The Gladiator."

The man seated seemed to not hear him for he didn't acknowledge him.

"I'm sorry. I believe I said your name." Ron said mockingly.

Again, no response.

"Le Tueur or The Killer. Le Proche or The Close. Do any of these ring a bell?"

Surprisingly, the man still did nothing. Finally, Ron stepped around him and looked him dead in the eye. Ron could tell that he had been wealthy. His fingernails were properly trimmed and his haircut was perfect. His dress suggested someone with a significant amount of money, a tidy business suit with diamond cufflinks.

"The Frenchman."

"Finally, you say my real name." he said quickly, relishing the attention of his self-proclaimed moniker.

"No." Ron replied quickly. "I did not. If I wanted to call you by your real name, I would have called you Bruno."

"Bruno? I know no BRUNO!"

"You do, Bruno Christoph AKA The Frenchman, for you ARE Bruno Christoph. The same man responsible for the deaths of 149 Frenchman, 144 Englishmen, and 100 Spaniards. You are the terrorist responsible for the attack on the Quidditch World Cup two years ago. You attacked the Beauxbatons Academy for Magic last year and you were the head of a group that planned on attacking the ten year memorial for the Battle of Hogwarts in five months."

Suddenly, The Frenchman laughed. Not a mocking laugh or a chuckle. Instead, it was a hearty laugh, one of true mirth, that he felt down into his toes. Ron waited awkwardly as the man roared with laughter. Finally, he calmed down and drew his attention back to Ron.

"You honestly think that I ran that operation?" he said. Ron noticed that he seemed to have no French in his English. Instead, he sounded exactly like an Englishman. Surprising from a man born and raised in Marseilles.

"We've been capturing informants, suppliers, and set-up men for months. All of their information led to you." Ron replied with a sneer.

"Maybe it led to me. But whoever said I was in charge?" The Frenchman said with a cackle. Ron hated the cackle more than anything. It was the ultimate sign that the suspect was trying to control the situation. Ron knew that he never dealt with it well.

"Listen to me, Christoph." Ron shot back, refusing to acknowledge him by his moniker. "With all of the attacks that you've planned over the past few years, you were number one on our shit list. Now, you could become the first man condemned to death under the laws set forth by the Ministry of Magic."

"What's the big deal? Maybe that was my plan."

"I don't think so." Ron replied as he conjured a chair and sat as close to the man as he could get. "Here's the deal. You say that you didn't plan this attack. Maybe I believe you, maybe I don't. However, none of that matters right now. What matters is the information you give me now. If the information you give me turns out to be true, then we may only be able to get you on murder and you'll get 50 years in Azkaban. But, if you refuse to talk or if you lie, you die. I know for a fact that the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will turn you inside out during your trial."

"Could it be because you're married to her?" The Frenchman replied, matching Ron's sneer. The instant mentioning of his estranged wife caused his blood to start pumping. Hermione had moved out nearly six months ago and the two rarely spoke, despite the fact that they technically worked in the same Department. Ron's constant work delays caused him to break numerous dates and miss important events. Hermione's role as the Head of the Department also conflicted with their romance and it had finally come to a head between the two seven months prior when Hermione, in a fit of rage that no one still in England could control, drew her wand on Ron and blasted him through three walls. Ron still harbored hopes that they could reconcile but even for the eternal optimist in him, he thought she was gone.

"That probably has something to do with it." Ron replied succinctly as he stood from his seat and made his way to the door. Before he knocked, he turned back to the Frenchman. "You have twenty-four hours."

Ron turned and was just about to knock for the guard to open the door when the suspect replied.

"I have an answer for you."

Slowly, Ron turned around and approached the seated man.

"And?"

"I will talk."

"Tha-"

"To Harry Potter." he replied, interrupting Ron's faux gratitude. The mention of his friend's name stopped him dead in his tracks. No one knew where Harry was. Andromeda received the occasional letter from him and he had even sent her to Greece so he could visit her once. That had been the closest they had been to finding him. However, when Ron and Hermione began to move in, Harry seemed to sense their presence and disappeared without a moment's notice. Ten months later, Hermione attacked Ron. He secretly thought that they both knew the reason behind their problems had nothing to do with work.

"You know just like everyone else that no one knows where Harry Potter is." Ron replied shortly, trying to hide his surprise.

"Find him. He's the only one I talk to." The Frenchman said before turning back to the guard. "I'm done talking to him."

Ron was forced to step out the room so that it could be disabled. The moment the door behind him was locked, The Frenchman spoke again.

"My boss is going to be quite displeased with recent events. Damn it all to hell."

Ron did everything he could to get back into the room, to ask him what he meant. But the door was locked and there was nothing he could do. He turned back to the room and noticed that no one really wanted to look at him. Kingsley stepped forward and leaned in towards Ron.

"My office. 7 AM. Get some sleep." he said before rushing out of the room.

7:00 AM

The Office of the Minister of Magic

Just as Kingsley had said, Ron was present for a meeting with the Minister of Magic at precisely seven the next morning. He also wasn't the only one invited. Also, present at the meeting was Hermione and Ron's father, Arthur. Arthur was two months away from taking the Minister's job from Kingsley, who was retiring. In the general election, held three months prior, Arthur had held nearly 90% of the votes. He was incredibly popular to say the least.

Ron obviously wasn't worried about Kingsley or his father. It was Hermione who had him on edge. While she hadn't seemed to notice that he was actually in the room, he knew that she had to be thinking about a lot of the same things that he was. She was just better at hiding it.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming." Kingsley said, doing his best to ignore the incredibly strange vibe in the room. "As you no doubt know, Aurors Weasley and Dawlish captured the terrorist Bruno Christoph known as The Frenchman. At a little after one, Ron interrogated the suspect. We learned some very interesting things."

"What in particular?" Hermione asked roughly. Her M.O. in meetings was legendary. Hermione had always been cutthroat when she needed to be. But after Harry's disappearance, she had changed into a whole other animal. Not even Kingsley dared stand in her way of something. Her success rate for new laws was nearly perfect. Those that didn't help her often ended in horrible Ambassador positions in Siberia or Saudi Arabia. Not the high profile work that most Ambassadors looked for.

"First of all, Christoph states that he is not the leader of his terrorist group."

"Bullocks." Hermione spat. "We know its him."

"Don't be so sure." Ron replied sharply. "Christoph is the definition of an attention hog. The man loved being in the interrogation room, knowing he was being watch. He would have admitted if this was his."

"Are you certain?" Arthur asked him.

"Absolutely." Ron replied.

"So that means we're looking for another Dark Wizard? Where do they all come from?" Arthur asked in shock.

"That's not the only thing that we learned." Kingsley replied, obviously dreading what he was about to say next. "Christoph will only speak to one man."

"Great." Hermione said while rolling her eyes. "Another criminal informant who thinks he can jerk us around. Who does he want to talk to? Me? Ron? Even you?"

"No."

"Well then who?"

"Harry." Ron interjected softly. "He wants to talk to Harry."

As the second mention of his friend's name left his lips, he watched the effect they had on Hermione. Any edge that she carried disappeared. She slouched in her chair and nearly dropped the pen that she had been vehemently taking notes with. The look on her face went from one with power and a generally destructive nature to one that was vulnerable at best.

"Harry?" Arthur asked softly. "Like our Harry?"

All Ron could do was nod in reply. His eyes were locked on Hermione. He watched as she sunk into a visible funk, one that she was not likely to fall out of soon. She looked like she was on the verge of both tears and running out of the room. It was only her immense stubbornness and courage that kept her strong and glued to her chair.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked Ron as she really looked at him for the first time. For a moment, they weren't fighting any more. They were just two-thirds of the Golden Trio, looking for the missing piece.

"I wouldn't lie about this, 'Mione. We absolutely must find him."

"That's going to be easier said that done." Kingsley replied. "We've been on the lookout for any information on Harry for eight years. We spotted him twice. Both times, he knew that we were coming before even we did. Personally, I think that he intentionally slips up every once in awhile, just to let us know he's still alive."

"Harry..." Hermione whispered softly. "Where was the last slip?"

"Tulsa, Oklahoma." Arthur replied. "I was part of the team that got sent there to go over the information. I feel that he definitely knew we were coming."

"Which means that if we are serious about finding Harry, we have to make this one of the most silent missions we've ever performed." Ron said softly, as if saying it too loudly would ruin the secret. "Harry is one of the most gifted wizards I've ever seen and he's more than likely got all of the best security bells and whistles."

"Moody would have been proud of him." Kingsley added.

"Damn straight he would have. Either way, are we saying that we need to do this?" Hermione asked.

"We have information that there is AT LEAST one more wizard out there that intends to take over the world and kill us all. The only way to get more information is to find Harry. I think we have to." Arthur replied.

"I agree." Ron added.

"I'm with them." Kingsley finished.

The four of them looked around the room, realizing what they had just decided. They were going to try and secretly spy on and convince the hero of the Second War to return home. This man, who was the fastest to ever complete Auror Training, who became a Senior Auror in less than a year, and the man who had successfully dueled 14 Romanian terrorist and WON, was their target.

"We must be insane." Hermione finally added.

"We need to be." Ron agreed. "Otherwise, we'll never know whether this guy is jerking our chain."

"So, how do we do it?" Hermione asked Kingsley.

"Well, all rumors basically state that Harry doesn't fly, Apparate, or Floo. He may ride a bike, buy a bus ticket, or occasionally ride a train. However, he typically walks. Which means that he doesn't travel quickly. When was he spotted in Tulsa?"

"20 months ago." Ron replied knowingly.

"That means that he's got to be somewhere in the Western Hemisphere." Arthur returned. "What we should do is contact our American Ambassador and get them to work out a collaborative effort to find him."

"Who's our American Ambassador?" Ron asked.

"Cho Chang got appointed to the position two years ago. She's been fantastic. Relations have never been better between us and she's largely the reason." Kingsley answered with much more information than needed.

"Fantastic. Maybe once they locate him, Cho can go herself." Hermione said softly. "Hopefully someone like her could jog his memory without scaring him away."

"I certainly hope so." Arthur responded.

"Me too." Ron added.

"I'll make the call in the next hour or so." Kingsley said, indicating that this meeting was over. Ron quickly stood up and packed up his briefcase. Slowly, he stepped outside and waited for Hermione. Moments later, Hermione stepped out of the door and blew right passed him. Unfortunately, he still had a lot of work to do in getting back into Hermione's good graces. Maybe having Harry back could make things better.

Some things certainly never change, Ron thought to himself. Harry hasn't been here for eight years and I'm still expecting him to save the world.

Ron prayed that they would find him. Otherwise, Harry's defeat of Voldemort could end up being a total waste.