I told you I would get this up in the next few days. At last I was finally able to do something right. I just wanted to write a quick message and say thanks to all of you who took the time to review. I absolutely loved reading your theories. I love that some of you have bits and pieces of it right, and no I won't tell you who you are. I just love that some of you are getting it, or at least partly of it.

I also wanted to take a moment and wish a Happy Birthday to my best friend, FiggyLynn, a day early. Hope you have a wonderful day tomorrow, and I promise, I won't call you a minute after midnight to be the first to wish you a Happy Birthday.

I hope you all enjoy this, Noterwomann

Chapter Twenty-Two: She Said What

It was with a disbelieving eye that Ginny observed the devastation in her once immaculate kitchen. Traces of food clung to everything. Splatter from the pot on the stove. Sauce spread across the table where Si had sat. A pile of noodles on the floor where he had dumped his plate. Her once angelic child had finally stumbled across his mischievous side, an inevitable consequence of having two Marauders for namesakes and Weasley twins for uncles. She knew the devilish grin he threw her as he dumped his spaghetti on the floor would be the end of her. How could she be angry with him when the smile on his face was one of purest joy? It had taken all her self control not to laugh along with him. Now, however, when he wasn't charming her silly, the state of her kitchen wasn't so amusing.

With a sound of frustration she pushed up the sleeves of her shirt and set to work putting the room to rights. She didn't have much time. Once the children were awake they would demand her undivided attention and she wouldn't get any work done. She started with the pile of noodles on the floor, making quick work of them, determined to have one mess cleaned up before Si was able to make another.

"Hello!" With a groan of frustration Ginny turned her head toward the sound of the voice. "Hello? Ginny? Are you home?"

"Yeah, yeah." She grumbled, throwing the marinara stained rag on top of the pile of noodles. "Coming!" She called loud enough for the voice to hear, wiping her hands on the legs of her jeans as she struggled to her feet.

She followed the voice to the sitting room where she was surprised to see Parker's anxious face suspended above her fire. "Ginny," He sighed with relief as she lowered herself to her knees at the hearth. "I'm so glad you're home. I need you to do something for me."

Groaning, Ginny let her head fall back against her shoulders. "Parker," her voice sounded weary even to her own ears. "Can't you find someone else? Today's not a good day." She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. "I have food all over my kitchen. Crayons scattered in the den. Drawings on my wall. I swear, Si's decided he's out to give me premature gray hairs. Parker, there are noodles on my ceiling, and…"

"Ginny," Parker cut her off. "Ron didn't come into work today."

Ginny stopped short, looking down at him in surprise. "He didn't?"

Parker's head shook in the fire.

"But Ron hasn't missed a day of work since…"

"He joined the Aurors." Parker nodded. "I know. Partners, remember? That's why I need you to go and check on him for me. I would go myself, but I just got a lead I have to follow, and your husband's stuck in class all day, otherwise I would have asked him."

"So you want me to go and check on my brother?" Ginny struggled not to role her eyes. "Parker, he missed one day of work. I know its unusually for him, but I think we're all entitled to miss one day now and again, especially with what he is going through right now."

"Exactly." Parker insisted. "A normal person would have taken time off a long time ago if they were in Ron's place. But he hasn't. You know as well as I do that he throws himself into his work when he has something he doesn't want to think about. Ginny, he's been home all day stewing. What kind of state do you think he's in?" He lowered his head, a lick of flames momentarily blocking his eyes. "I'm worried about him, Ginny."

"Why? Because he's finally acting the way a normal person would?"

"No. I'm worried because I think he saw Hermione yesterday."

Ginny eyes widened with surprise. "You mean she gave in?"

"I have no idea." His head bobbed as if he shrugged his shoulders. "All I know is Gregory Stone saw him storming out of an interrogation room yesterday. He left in the middle of the work day and didn't even stop to tell anyone he was leaving."

Ginny sat back on her heels, rubbing wearily at her scalp. "Okay. I'll go." Her shoulders sagged wearily. "I'll have to wait until the children wake up, but…."

"Couldn't you floo your mum and ask her to come and watch them?"

She made a sound of indecision, her eyes darting to a mess Parker couldn't see. She closed her eyes. "Alright." She nodded. "I'll go as soon as I can."

Parker sighed with relief before smiling gratefully. "I owe you, Ginny."

"No," She shook her head. "You don't. He's my brother after all. Anyway, get going. I'm going to need the network if I'm going to floo mum."

"Thanks, Ginny." He said before pulling his head out of the fire and freeing the network.

Ginny made quick work of contacting her mother. While she waited, she finished cleaning the kitchen and managed to get all of the crayons back into their box. She knew she wouldn't have time to get the drawings off the wall so she cast a quick glammer. She could easily imagine the look of disapproval on her mother's face if she arrived to find Grimmauld Place anything less than tidy. Molly Weasley, after all, had managed to keep her house spotless while raising seven children. Her daughter should certainly be able to manage with only two.

The Glammer had just settled into place over the ruined wall when Molly stepped comfortably out of the fireplace. With a quick thanks, Ginny disapperated, leaving a very bewildered Molly Weasley behind.

With a gentle pop, Ginny reappeared just outside the perimeter of her brother's garden. Cautiously she stepped forward, leery of the wards her brother might have set, the reason she hadn't apparated directly to the front stoop. When nothing happened she set off at a brisk pace toward the house, anxiety fueling her forward.

When she reached the door she knocked, unable to hide her urgency. No one answered, but when she tried the handle she found it unlocked.

"Ron!" She poked her head through the gap. The house was dark, all the windows closed, the blinds and drapes drawn. "Ron, are you here?" She slid sideways through the opening and stumbled over a pile of boxes stacked near the door.

Using one box as leverage, she pushed herself back to her feet. The weak cardboard flap gave way under her weight and her hand came down on something soft and plush. Eyes wide, she pulled the stuffed toy out of the box. It was a small tabby cat with green, glossy eyes.

Crouching down, the stuffed cat held against her chest, Ginny flipped open the lid. Inside was more of Blake's toys. Balls and blocks, stuffed animals and dolls. She pulled open another box. This one held Blake's clothes. Another her cot bedding.

Something banged overhead and Ginny jumped at the sound of Ron's curse coming from the next story. She sprung to her feet and hurried up the stairs and down the hallway, the plush toy still in hand. She pushed open the door to Blake's room, and though she was expecting it, she took a step back in surprise.

All of Blake's belongings were cleared out. Her clothes cabinet empty. The shelves Ron had built and installed himself, abandoned. On the floor near the door was one rail of the cot, the obvious sound of the thud she had heard.

With an angry growl, Ron detached the other rail and let it drop to the floor.

Ginny jumped at the sound, a hand automatically going to her chest. "What are you doing?"

Ron spared her hardly a glance before he started in on removing the bottom of the cot from the sides. "Do you know anyone in need of a cot?" He asked.

Ginny stared at him blankly for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. Blake."

Ron leaned against the cot, fingers clamped knuckle white around the wood. His teeth clamped down tight and a pulse leapt to his jaw. "Blake is gone." He forced himself to straighten and start again at his task. "She's gone and she's not coming back. So I won't be needing any of this anymore."

"Ron," Ginny came to stand behind him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. He immediately shook it off. "Ron, we'll find her. You can't give up."

With another growl, something snapped and one corner of the base came free. "She's not coming back." He said through gritted teeth.

Ginny's eyes narrowed with concern. "Of course she is. Once she's found, we'll get Ceemist's ruling overturned and…"

"I don't think you understand," Ron interrupted. "What I mean to say is, I don't want her back."

Ginny blinked in disbelief. "What did you say?"

With a heavy sigh, Ron finally turned to face her. Ginny's mouth gapped momentarily in surprise. She hardly recognized the man staring at her from behind her brother's eyes. They were violently red and sunken, the intense blue dulled to an unrecognizable shade. His hair was tangled and matted, clumps of it jutting out where he had gripped it. Dark circles lined the bottom of his eyes and his clothes looked disheveled and slept in.

"I said, I don't want her back." He spoke slowly, over annunciating each word like he was speaking to someone of lower intelligence.

Ginny's mouth gapped. "But I don't understand." She shook her head. "Where is this coming from?"

"What do you mean, where is this coming from?" Ron put a hand to his chest. "I didn't want to be a dad, remember? I don't like babies. I'm scared of them. I don't want her. I never wanted her. Greene made me take her home in the first place. Remember? I finally found a way out of this mess, and I'm taking it."

"Bullocks." Ginny growled harshly. "You wouldn't have fought so hard for her if you didn't want her."

"I felt sorry for her."

"You love her."

Ron ducked his head, shaking it slowly. "Babies are like women. You think you want one 'till you have one, but then you remember they cause you nothing but heartache."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this." Ginny turned away from him and began to pace, the head of the stuffed animal in her hand getting squeezed like a worry ball. "Just yesterday you were devastated Blake was gone. You would have moved heaven and earth to get her back."

"Things change."

"Not this." She stopped pacing to stare at him. He had returned to dismantling the cot. Another corner came free and the end fell over sideways, to land on the floor.

Ginny's fingers curled into tight fists at her sides. "Would you please stop doing that?" She marched forward and grabbed his wrist, hauling him away from the now dilapidated piece of furniture. Using her hand, she turned his head, forcing him to look at her. "Why are you doing this?"

"I told you," he pulled her hand away from his face. "I never wanted to be a dad."

Ginny pulled her hand free of his grasp and took a firm hold of his chin. "You can't lie to me, Ronald Weasley." He tried to turn his head away but she held him steady. "You might have been able to fool the others, but not me. You were never terrified of babies. That fear everyone saw, that was you terrified you would grow attached to something you thought you could never have. But you have it now." Her fingers held steady when he made to turn again. "Blake is yours. Why are you trying to ruin that?"

His jaw tightened under her grasp. He firmly, but gently, pushed Ginny away, taking a few steps back to put more space between them. "You seem to know me better than I do. Why don't you tell me?" He turned and stalked away, out the door into the hallway.

After a moments surprise Ginny followed. "You're scared." She called after him when she reached the top of the stairs. Ron paused, halfway down the staircase, but did not turn to look at her. His shoulders rolled forward and his head bowed. "You're terrified of being hurt again. You think you've made a mistake letting her into your heart." His muscles tensed, as if preparing himself for a physical blow. "You know I'm right." He continued down the stairs and she followed. "That's why you're packing up all her things and…" She came to a stop, staring after him as he disappeared into his study, slamming the door behind him. Her eyes glanced from the stack of boxes near the door, to the stuffed animal in her hand and back towards the nearly empty nursery.

All the pieces came together as she recalled the last time Ron had packed up his life and pushed everyone away. Only one person had that kind of power over her brother. The one person, Parker had on good authority, Ron had managed to see yesterday. Ginny closed her eyes as she cursed Hermione Granger to perdition.

She hurried down the stairs and to the closed study door. Slowly, she turned the handle and eased opened the heavy panel of oak. She blinked fiercely at the blinding light spilling from the room into the unnaturally dark hallway. Eyes squinting in the harsh light, she poked her head through the gap. She scanned the room for her brother. She almost missed him. He was sitting with his back to her, facing out an open window, the source of the light, a nearly empty bottle of Firewhisky hanging loosely from his fingertips.

"Ron?"

For a moment he didn't react, than the bottle rose to his lips and turned up. He took several deep pulls before lowering it. "I thought you went home."

She stepped into the room, knocking an empty bottle aside with her foot. "Not yet."

"What do you want?" His voice was harsh and strained, the first glimpse of the pain that was ragging inside of him.

"To talk." She took a few more steps. She set the stuffed animal down on a shelf. "I want to know what she said to you."

He refused to look at her. He stared almost blindly out the window, his eyes following the empty rope swing as it swayed in the harsh breeze. "Who?" He asked evasively. His eyes stung and blurred, forcing the garden out of focus. Just as well, he thought closing them. There was nothing back there but empty dreams and broken promises.

Ginny frowned with disapproval. "You know who I'm talking about." She waited for him to respond. "Hermione."

Ron flinched at the sound of the name. Pinching the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to stop the flow of tears he knew was coming. He reached out blindly, fumbling to set the bottle on the desk behind him. The bottle bumped against the edge, he lifted it over the lip but released it before the base had settled on the surface.

Reacting with the instinctive speed of a mother, Ginny lunged forward and saved the bottle before it landed on the ground.

"How much of this have you had?" She asked, shifting through the piles of parchment strewn across the desk in search of a cap.

"Not nearly enough." Ron forced his throat to swallow the heavy ball that had settled just above his Adam's apple.

Ginny hummed with displeasure, spotting more than one empty bottle in the room. "I'd say you've had more than enough last night." She shifted a large pile of parchment into a neat stack, revealing the glossy corner of a picture underneath. Curious, she pulled it free of the stack and turned it so it was right side up. Her heart twinged inside her chest when she realized what she was looking at. It was a remarkable snap shot of Ron and Blake the day of her naming, sitting under one of the many trees at the Burrow.

Tenderly she traced a finger over Blake's delicate features, then Ron's. He had been so happy that day. So utterly content. Her heart constricted with the realization that that look was gone. Blake's presences in his life had healed him after so many years of pain and self induced solitude. She glanced at her brother over the edge of the photo. He looked hollow now. An empty shell of the man he was supposed to be. He looked more broken than ever.

Ginny moved around the side of the desk until she was standing next to Ron. She lowered the print until it was within his line of vision. "This is a stunning photo."

Ron turned his head to look. His shoulders instantly tensed. He snatched the picture out of her hands, wrenched open a desk drawer and shoved the print inside. When he slammed the drawer shut it was with enough force that the feet of the desk shifted on the floor.

Turning fully to the desk he took up the bottle from where Ginny had set it and took a heavy pull. Ginny watched silently, apparent disapproval written on her face. "Are you going to tell me what happened or continue to drink yourself into a stupor?" She asked when he lowered the bottle.

"Ginny," he closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the disappointment on her face, "Go away."

With a sad sigh she crouched down so that she was closer to his level. Tilting her head to the side, she reached up and gently ran her fingers though his hair, pushing it back out of his eyes. She rested her palm tenderly on his cheek, coaxing him into looking at her. "What did she say to you?"

Ron swallowed. "What makes you think she said anything? She won't see me, remember?" He bit out the last.

"But you did see her."

He winced under her steady gaze. "Who told you?"

"Parker. He flooed me." She placed her other hand on his arm. "He's worried about you."

"So why didn't he come and check on me, instead of sending my little sister?"

Ginny pulled her hand away to cross her arms over her breast. She glared at him. "I suppose he sent me because he thought I was also your friend."

Ron stared silently at her before turning away from the wounded look in her eyes.

"Besides," she rose to her full height. "It doesn't take a genius to figure this out. You've done this all before."

"Done what?"

"This." She made a swishing motion with her hand. "Pretend like nothings bothering you. Remove all evidence that someone you cared about was ever in your life. Focus all your attention on a job so you won't have to think about it. It's the same thing you did five years ago."

"Gin," He barked through clenched teeth, eyes closed, fingers clutched around the throat of the bottle. "Just leave it alone."

"And you divert the topic away from the people you don't want to talk about." She squared her shoulders. "If she's hurt you again, you have to tell me."

"Why?" He asked snidely. "So you can make it all better?" He pushed away from the desk and onto his feet. "You can't fix it this time. There's nothing left to fix. It's over. We never had a chance. She wants nothing to do with me."

"She said that?" Ginny watched him march to the other side of the room, stopping by a book case, bracing his arm on a shelf and resting his head against it. "Ron. Hermione said that to you?"

His hand tightened into a fist. "That, and a lot more."

Ginny swallowed, almost afraid to ask. "What else did she say?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't really matter."

"Of course it does." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Tell me. Please."

Ron closed his eyes against the fresh wave of pain and anger. When he tried to speak the words wouldn't come out. It was as though his throat had closed up on him. He tried again. "She didn't want to see me." He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I already knew that."

"Of course you did." He pushed away the pain in favor of anger, letting the rage force the ache into a hard ball in his stomach. He lifted his head and glared at her. "Did you also know that she blames me of accusing her of kidnapping."

"Why would she think that? You had nothing to do with it."

"Because she thinks I'm trying to punish her for losing Blake's case." Ron pointed at his chest. "I never accused her of anything."

"I know." She said firmly, and after a moment. "And so does she." Ron shook his head. "No, think about it." Ginny stopped him. "You know her. Probably better than anyone else. You know how her mind works. She's been locked up in a holding cell for almost two weeks. It's got to be getting to her. She's just taking her aggravation out on you."

"No." he shook his head, more adamant this time. "It's more than that." He turned, arms crossed over his chest and leaned his hips against the book shelf, head bowed low. "She blames me for everything. Ruining her life. Losing her job. Her reputation. She made it clear our time together meant nothing to her." He forced his throat to swallow. "I, ah… I didn't realize life with me was so horrible."

"It's not." Ginny immediately insisted.

"It must be, because this is the second time she's pitched me. The second. How else am I suppose to take that? And before you say anything, don't. You didn't see the look in her eyes."

"No," She agreed, squaring her shoulders, preparing to fight. "I didn't. And I don't have to." She took him by the arms and turned him until he was facing her. "If that's how she feels, then screw her. You don't need her. Once you get Blake back…

Ron wrenched himself out of her hands. "I'm not getting Blake back. Haven't you been listening? I want to be alone. I miss my empty house. I miss the quiet. I don't need the bother."

"So you've said." She hollered back. "But I don't believe you."

"Why not? Why not?"

"Because you love her!"

Ron turned away, fingers clenched tight in his vibrant hair. "Don't you get it?" His voice broke. "That doesn't matter anymore. None of it matters."

"Of course it matters." Ginny scowled. "Why wouldn't it?"

Ron pulled harder at his hair, forcing his chin down to his chest. A tear slipped free of his eye and ran down his cheek. He muttered something in a strangled voice that Ginny couldn't understand.

"What was that?"

He let go of his hair and his hands fell dead to his side. "I said…I don't deserve her."

Ginny stepped back, stunned. "What?"

The air escaped his lungs in a painful rush. "I'm a bad father. She would be better off with someone else."

Ginny gapped at him in open mouthed disbelief. "What are you talking about? You're a fantastic father."

He shook his head. Another tear slid down his face.

"You are." She insisted, taking hold of his arm.

He continued to shake his head. "I'm not. Merlin, Gin," he held up a beseeching hand, "I don't even know is Bryony sleeps through the night."

"What has that to do with you and Blake?"

"Everything." Ron turned on her. "How can I be a good father if I don't appreciate the family I already have?"

"You appreciate us."

He shook his head, more adamantly this time. "No, Gin. I don't. If I did I would know if Bryony sleeps through the night, or if Fleur was over her morning sickness, or weather Fred has a steady girlfriend or not."

"I'm still not following you, Ron. What has this to do with anything?"

"These are basic things about our family. Why don't I know them?"

"You've been preoccupied."

He continued to shake his head, self-disgust evident in his frown. "That's still no excuse."

"Yes it is." She insisted. "You've had more important things to worry about then Fred's love life. And if anyone doesn't understand that…" Ginny stuttered to a stop, eyes widened with understanding. "Hermione doesn't understand that, does she? Ron." She took him by the shoulders and shook him slightly when he didn't answer. "Does she?"

"Well, she's right, isn't she?" He knocked her hands away using the side of his. "I don't deserve Blake. I'm not a good father. She'd be better off with someone else."

Ginny stood there staring at him. Her fingers curled into fists, the knuckles turning white. With one quick decision she abandoned all formal loyalty to her friend, her heart instantly hardened against her. She jutted her chin, her eyes gleamed with determination. "I'm going to kill her."

"Ginny!" Ron called after her retreating back. "Ginny, where are you going?"

"I'm going to tear her eyes out, that's where I'm going."

"Leave it alone, Gin."

"Not bloody likely." She whirled around. "If you think for one moment I'm going to let her talk to you that way…"

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me."

"I wouldn't have too if you fought them yourself."

"Damn it, Ginny, I already know I'm a screw up!" He bellowed, turning on her. "You don't have to prove it to everyone else. Just leave it alone."

Fury flared behind her eyes strong enough to match his. "Did she tell you that as well? That you're a screw up?" Ron turned away, lifting his hand to play absently with the binding of a book. "Ron," She said sternly. "Did Hermione tell you that?"

He had to clear his throat. "She made it quite clear that if I were a real Auror I would have found Blake by now."

"Did she?" Ginny slowly nodded her head. "Did she really? That bitch."

Ron shook his head. "No. She's right. I failed, Ginny. I promised Blake I would never let anything happen to her." He turned back around. "And look at this. I don't know where she is. I don't know if she's safe. If she's scared. I actually let those people get their hands on her. I didn't stop them from stealing her away. Gin, she could be dead." His body shook with inner torment. Ginny rushed forward to fold her brother in her arms. His arms went around her like two steel bans, squeezing the air out of her as he buried his face in her shoulder. "I did this to her. It's my fault. If I had been more careful."

Ginny shushed him soothingly, running her fingers calmly and tenderly through his hair. "None of this is your fault, Ron. You didn't do anything wrong."

Ron's shoulders shook harder. "I killed her parents." His arms tightened, seeking more of the comfort she offered. "I thought I could be enough. I trusted Hermione to win our case. I didn't go after her. I never should have let those monsters get their hands on her."

"Ron," Ginny pulled back and took his face between her hands, forcing him to look her in the eye. "Listen to me. You did nothing wrong. Do you hear me? You are a fantastic father and an amazing Auror. And if Hermione can't see that, she's a fool."

Ron shook his head. "She's not a fool."

"Then she's an idiot."

"No. I'm the idiot." He rubbed the back of his hand angrily under his eyes, removing what was left of his tears. "I let myself fall for her again. I keep doing this to myself. Why don't I learn? How could I have been so stupid? I should have seen this coming? I should have known I'd never be good enough for her."

"That's enough." Ginny shook him. "That is enough. What has she done to you? What happened to my confident, self-assured brother? The man who's led teams of Aurors into unimaginable danger without batting an eye? The decisive man who knew what he wanted and fought for it?"

Ron shrugged halfheartedly.

"Bloody hell." Ginny cursed, dropping her hands. "I am going to kill her." She turned and marched to the door, ready to apparate to the Ministry. "I'm going to kill her with my own hands."

"Gin," she whirled at the sound of her name, hands once again in fists. "Please." He begged. "Just leave it."

"Like hell I will. How dare she?" She stomped her foot. "How dare she do this to you again? Who does she think she is? Just wait until I get my hands on her. She'll wish she never left Spain."

"What are you going to do?"

"Don't you worry about that. You just concentrate on pulling yourself together so you can go back to work. Prove her wrong. Find Blake and bring her home. And if I find out you missed another day of work because of her," she said turning back to the door, "I'm coming after you."

"I don't care if I don't have an appointment." Parker slammed his hand down on the receptions desk. "I need to speak with him. Immediately."

"As I've already told you," the man said with a pleasant, though obviously annoyed voice, "without an appointment, I can't let you in to see him."

"Fine." Parker straightened to his full and intimidating height. "Then I guess I'll have to let myself in." He quickly stepped around the side of the desk, gently shoving the receptionist back in his seat when he made to stop him.

Parker knocked twice before opening the door, not bothering to wait for a response.

"I told you I didn't want to be disturbed, Peter." Triaquin Ceemist looked up from beneath his graying, bushy eyebrows. His lips turned down in a deep frown at the sight of Parker. "What are you doing?" He sat up when the Auror pulled his wand.

Without answering, Parker closed the door and warded it.

"Mr Gale." Ceemist gripped the edge of his desk. "What is the meaning of this?"

Parker shoved his wand back in his pocket before turning around. "Your Honor," he strode briskly forward. "I need you to file a formal complaint."

"Against you? Gladly."

There was a reflexive tensing in Parker's jaw. "Not against me, Your Honor. Against Carbonell Javed."

Ceemist's entire body tensed, coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. When he spoke, his voice was clipped and fast, the words stumbling over each other in his hurry to get them out. "Why would I file a formal complaint against Mr Javed? He's done nothing to me."

Parker crossed the gap that separated him and the Ministry official. He leaned his hands against the desk, tilting his body forward. "Your Honor, we know what's going on? We know he threatened you." He looked the old main pointedly in the eye. "I have my men ready," he said in a low voice. "At your word we'll have your wife moved to a secure location. I swear, we won't let anything happen to her. All I need from you is an official, formal complaint, against Carbonell Javed and his wife."

Something flickered behind Ceemist's eyes. His head began to shake, small movements back and forth that slowly grew more adamant. "I can't. My wife…my wife, she's all I have. I… I can't."

Parker felt himself softening towards the old man. That was naked pain he saw in his eyes. Pain and fear over losing the sole remaining member of his family. Harry's research had been nothing if not thorough. It might be well known that Ceemist lost family during the wars against Voldemort, but Parker would wager few knew the true extent of his loss.

His brother Herbert, his sister-in-law, Ansley, and their four children, had all died in a house attack during the first war. Both of his sons, Drew and Quentin, died defending their families after refusing to join the Death Eaters during the second. Betsy and Tori, their wives, had both fallen, along with Drew's son Peyton and Quentin's unborn child. Parker couldn't imagine the pain this old man had to live through every day. To lose nearly everyone you loved in such a brutal way had to be more agonizing then he could even imagine. Parker nodded with sad understanding. He couldn't blame this man for needing to protect his wife with every fiber of his being.

Parker took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax into a less intimidating pose. "I know you're scared, Sir. But you have to understand. It's my job to protect the innocent. You tell me what I need to know and I'll do everything in my power to protect you and your wife."

He could see the conflict raging in the old man's eyes. On the one hand, withholding testimony, siding with Death Eaters, presumably against his will, had to be completely against his nature. But that desire to do right, to mend the mess he had made, was over ridden by the desire to protect his wife from any and all danger.

The old man's eyes narrowed, but after several seconds of hard silence he shook his head. "No. I won't put my wife's life in danger. Don't ask me to do that."

"Triaquin," Parker used the man's first name, forgoing all formality. "The Javed's aren't coming after you. They have no power left. No influence. All their friends are in jail. Their family fortune is gone They've been selling off their heirlooms for years just to keep their heads above water. They need Blake's inheritance in order to flee the country. They would have fled days ago, but with Blake missing they haven't been able to get their hands on it. They know the Ministry is building a case against them and are desperate to flee before we coming knocking at their door."

"So what do you need me for? If I recall, at the trial Ms Granger said they were days away from arrest."

Parker bit down on his teeth, a growl of frustration escaping his chest. "Their file is missing."

"Missing?"

"It was one of the cases Ms Granger was working on before she was arrested for kidnapping. When it became clear she wasn't being released any time soon, her files were divided amongst her coworkers. Somewhere in the shuffle of reassignment, it got misplaced."

Ceemist's lips pursed with displeasure. "What a coincidence."

Parker nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

Ceemist was silent for a moment in thought. "So, they must still have at least one friend with enough power to get things done."

Parker sighed. He had hopped Ceemist's still sharp mind wouldn't have come to that conclusion. "If they do, they won't get past us."

"You can't know that."

"Yes," he said firmly. "I can. Your Honor, people don't get past us. That's why we're considered the best at what we do."

"If you're the best, why haven't you found the Weasley baby yet?"

Parker stiffened with surprise. He hadn't been expecting that. "We've been banned from her case. Ministry policy. The Alphas are two close to some of the people involved."

Ceemist leaned forward, fingers thread together, hands braced on the desk. "Is that the only thing stopping you?"

A corner of Parker's lip twitched, his left brow quirked. "Who said anything was stopping me?"

He couldn't be sure, but for the briefest moment Parker swore he saw approval flash in the old man's eyes.

"Well," Ceemist, rose to his feet. "As informative as this has been, I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Triaquin," there was a slight edge to Parker's voice. "I know Carbonell Javed threatened you and your wife. I just need you to file an official complaint. He and Melantha are preparing to flee the country, and if we don't stop them before they do, we might never get the chance. Please Sir," Parker pleaded. "If you ever wanted to set things right with Captain Weasley, this would be the way to do it. We need this, Your Honor."

Triaquin bit at his bottom lip, internal dilemma clear on his face. "If you can guarantee no harm will come to my wife…" his voice faltered.

"I have men at your house waiting for my word. With your permission I can have your wife in our safe house in less than twenty minutes."

Ceemist stared deep into Parker's eyes for what felt like an eternity to the younger man, searching for something in the Auror's eyes. Honesty. Insurance. Confidence that everything was going to be alright. Whatever he was looking for, he must have found. He nodded once. "I'll talk. As soon as I know she's out of harm's way."

Parker nodded assertively. He turned and with a precise flick of his wand, a silver fox, so dazzlingly bright it hurt the eyes, erupted from the tip. "Find Stone. Tell him we have the go ahead. He'll know what to do."

The fox pranced in anticipation, waiting for the order that would set him free. When it came the fox took off in a graceful leap, disappearing through the solid wall.

Ceemist's mouth dropped, his eyes wide with astonishment. "Wh… Was that…?"

Parker's lips twitched into a smug smile. "Something Captain Weasley taught us." He lowered himself into one of the waiting seats. "We should have a response in a few minutes."

The two men sat quietly, Parker with his head bowed, brow furrowed, hands folded together. Ceemist staring at him contemplatively, one thumb rubbing his bottom lips unconsciously. He straightened suddenly in his seat, his hand landing on the arm of his chair with a loud thud. "I still don't understand how that file could have gone missing."

Parker leaned back, a malicious glare pinning Ceemist in his seat. "It wouldn't have happened if Hermione Granger hadn't been carted off." His lips turned into a deeper scowl. "They're looking to replace her."

"No one in her office is supporting her?" He sounded genuinely surprised.

"At this juncture it hardly matters if they are. Her names been dragged through the mud. They've lost the most organized, productive member on their team. Even if they wanted to hold her job, the rest of the team can't pick up the slack. It's hardly fair to the rest of her co-workers to ask them to put in a little extra work. No, she needs to be replaced."

"You think she's being treated unfairly." Ceemist observed.

"Isn't she? Hermione Granger's gotten a hard deal all around. It seems unusually cruel to kick her when she's already down."

"Work needs to be done."

"And if the Betas followed protocol this wouldn't be an issue."

"What's this about the Betas?"

Before Parker could answer they were interrupted by the appearance of a raven shaped Protronus, gliding elegantly through the wall to land daintily on Parker's shoulder. The bird turned its shinny head so that its beak was beside Parker's ear. "Target secured." It said in a very official sounding voice. "Awaiting further instructions." The bird glimmered brighter for a moment then disappeared as if it had never been.

Parker removed his wand and repeating the exact motions as before, the silver fox mad a reappearance. "Tell Stone to proceed with Plan B."

When they were once again alone, Parker returned his focus to the Ministry Official. Ceemist stared back through wide eyes, completely confounded. He blinked a few times as he tried to regain his composure. "I didn't know communicating through Protronusus was possible."

Parker shrugged. "For most it's not. Your wife has been collected and relocated to our safe house. As soon as we're finished, you'll join her."

"And you're certain my wife is safe?"

"I would stake my life on it."

The man's shoulders sagged like a great weight had been taken off them. He closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths, enjoying the relief that security gave him. "Very well, then." He nodded. "I'd like to file an official complaint."

Parker shifted in his seat, thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled a roll of parchment and a Quick-Quotes Quill from its depth. He smoothed the parchment on the desk and set the Quill. Nodding slightly with satisfaction he began, "This is Parker Bartholomew Gale, Alpha Squad. Official complaint and testimony of Triaquin Ignatius Ceemist, Ministry Official and Mugwump." Parker caught the other man's frightened eyes and nodded reassuringly. "Whenever you're ready, Sir."