Chapter Nineteen: The Torture of Mundungus Fletcher

James Longstreet hated England. It was too foggy, he didn't like fish n' chips, and he absolutely despised cold weather. He was a proud southerner; pompous, showy, and full of vices. He had patented himself off of a famous Civil War cavalry general, J.E.B. Stuart, who wore an ostrich plum in his big hat, wore a sash and gold spurs into battle, and loved seeing himself in the papers. Longstreet had been born and raised in New Orleans. His father was a bartender; his mother had been a witch. She had died of cancer when he was only four, and his father besides running the bar, had become a full blown alcoholic. Longstreet had attended Balmorhea like Castor, but met him in the Auror program in D.C. His first impression of Castor was he wouldn't last a year. He was abrasive, hot tempered and he didn't like taking orders, yet his talents had kept him in the game. But by the time Marcus had been killed, Castor had given up on the Ministry, and taken a liking to independent contracting. There was less protocol, questions and more money, with the added bonus that those who hired him were less concerned about Castor killing somebody.

And what Castor lacked in many things, he was a stone killer, and Longstreet liked him for it. They still worked together when a Death Eater was involved, Longstreet providing the respect and connections of the U.S. Ministry, Castor providing the means and skill to finish the job, and taking the heat for killing a wizard.

Now Longstreet was idly walking the barren streets of London in the early morning, rolled fine cut Virginia tobacco clamped in his teeth, hands in his pockets, whistling Dixie and cursing the son of bitch Demetrius Castor for dragging him to London. Narcissa Malfoy had nothing to do with Longstreet coming to England. Castor was way over his head, in his opinion, and with the exception of Riley Sevagio, he was the only other man that Castor trusted.

Fat lot of good it did for him.

Still, he was bored in New Orleans. Aurors from all over the globe were being sent to England to fight off the core of Voldemort's forces. Longstreet had been asked to go but relented due to the fact that he just plain didn't care. He didn't care about Voldemort, or Dumbledore or Harry Potter. He cared about his hometown, the ladies and the length of his sideburns. If Voldemort were to attack the U.S., the south anyways, he would holster up a gun and his wand and he would make him pay for crossing him, but he very much doubted Voldemort would ever gain enough support and strength to come all the way to Louisiana. In the meantime, Longstreet would spend his time rustling up second rate criminals, do what he would against the usual homicide, trafficking, and burglary that came with his job, and remain bored as hell.

Then Castor took the job. What an idiot. What was he thinking? What did he care about the Chosen One and Voldemort and Hogwarts? Castor might have been a bit on the strange side, but he wouldn't go through this much trouble, regardless how much Scrimgeour was paying him.

And Longstreet hated Scrimgeour. He was a jack-ass politician who was going to wind up killed if he didn't start throwing some punches. Ol' Barty Crouch would have been the same way, only he would have killed a lot of people before going down for the count. That's what the Ministry needed, in Longstreet's opinion; a bloodthirsty, villainous, power-hungry lunatic who would drop the A-Bomb on London if it meant killing Voldemort.

What really irked the southerner was the fact that he got roped into this somehow. He was completely fine living in New Orleans, even if he was bored, doing his job, visiting his father's bar on St. Anne street, and impressing the ladies, both muggle and magical with his disarming charm and roguish looks, until Castor called him and asked him to help out.

While flicking his smoke into the wet pavement and turning a corner toward the Leaky Cauldron, he still hadn't figured out why the hell he had said yes. What he really felt like doing was telling Castor to kiss off, but instead had agreed. Castor didn't want him to consult or even figure out who killed Narcissa Malfoy. He wanted Longstreet to keep an eye on Scrimgeour and the Ministry, and report back to him. He was a spy, why not – nothing like screwing it to the politicians who were responsible for the mess he was now dug into. He definitely made his presence known while first walking into the Auror Department. So far he had solved the Malfoy murder, single handedly arrested a Death Eater who had been involved in the attack on the Ministry, and slept with the Minister of Magic's personal secretary. It was black and white with his colleagues, either you hated the man, or you wanted to be him.

Now he was on his second assignment, which he had had a good laugh about when Castor told him about it the previous night over the phone. Longstreet was just about to give the cute little blond another go when his cell phone buzzed on the night stand. Like Sevagio and Castor, he approved of muggle technology and used it as much as he could. He even preferred guns to wands, especially in his line of work. He could go through an entire chamber of .44's before the prick muttered the killing curse. Jack Sloan had learned that the hard way. Little did he know at the time that the phone call was from Castor, and it would hopefully land him the biggest payoff of his life.

'What?' he snarled.

'It's me.'

Longstreet sat up in bed. The pretty blond started trailing a circle on his bare chest.

'Whad up 'ere Demy?' he said.

'Mundungus Fletcher,' Castor said. 'Ring any bells?'

Longstreet thought it over for a long several seconds then rubbed his eyes tiredly. 'Naw, Demy, who'd tat be?'

'An old friend of the Order of the Phoenix. He's got something I want, and I've decided to let Potter and friends go after the guy and bring him back here.'

'Interestin,' Longstreet said pulling back the covers and getting a prime look at the secretary's naked body.

'Very,' Castor said coolly. 'Potter's gotta go after this hustler which might lead to this guy, Ivan Tasky. I want you to tail Potter, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.'

Longstreet groaned. Tailing somebody was something he did not want to do.

'Come on, Demy,' he said sleepily. 'Potter's fine, is dis really dat important?'

'James,' Castor said. 'I don't care if they get Tasky, that's another thing you don't need to worry about, but I want to know all the same.'

'Know's what?'

'If Potter can figure out what Mundungus has.'

'And what does he have?' the southerner asked now looking at the cute, if not incredibly stupid secretary.

'Something very important.'

'Damnit Demy,' Longstreet said impatiently. 'Why don't youz gets Ri for dis?'

'Riley had an accident,' Castor said coldly. 'You can take care of this. Unless Potter is an inch away from getting killed, you stay outta sight.'

Longstreet blew an exasperated sigh.

'Can do, Demy,' he finally said. 'But waz bout dis little artifact of Mundungus. If Potter don't git his hands on it, you reckon' I should?'

There was a silence on the other end of the phone, and Longstreet could actually hear Castor thinking. Then he finally spoke.

'Yes. And I'll pay you whatever price you want if you get it, that is, if Potter doesn't get it first.'

Longstreet sat up in bed and pushed the blond secretary's hand off his bare chest, who gave him a huff of indignation. Screw the bitch he thought, he was about to retire early.

'I'm all ears, Demy.'

Harry, Ron and Hermione burst out of the fireplace in the corner of the downstairs tavern, the Leaky Cauldron. Provided it was only two days until Christmas, the bar was completely deserted, save a tall looking wizard wearing a fedora in the corner, his head down, reading over dilapidated manuscripts. Hermione cast a few awkward glances between Harry and Ron. Harry was looking at Ron almost apologetically mingled with a dash of fear, wondering if Ron was going to punch him. Its not like he didn't deserve it, he did spend the night with his sister.

Come on, how could he be that pissed?

Then Harry realized that he had broken things off with Ginny to keep her out of danger, and now she was practically in the thick of it. It didn't help that he was with Sarah not more than a week ago, something Harry guaranteed was on Ron's mind, and definitely adding fuel to his rage.

Ron, for his part, said nothing as he walked up to Tom, the local barman who knew everyone and everything that occurred within the wizarding world, thanks largely to working round the clock hours and having one of the most popular spots in London. Ron strode up to the bar, taking the initiative, and looked squarely at the barman, who's eyes were wide with surprise as having Harry Potter in his bar.

'We're looking for someone,' Ron said coolly. 'Mundungus Fletcher.'

The barman looked at Harry then back at Ron, his mouth opening and closing fast.

'Ron,' he stammered. 'Why would you three be looking for him?'

'We need to find him,' Ron said bluntly. 'Do you know where he is?'

Again Tom's eyes went from Ron then to his companions, astonishment etched on his red, toothless face.

'I don't know where he is,' he finally said.

'Come off it,' Ron said angrily, getting a jump out of Hermione. 'You know everyone. Where does he hang out?'

At this, the barman flustered.

'Mr. Weasley,' he huffed, 'I don't have anything to do with a smuggler like Fletcher. Try Knockturn Alley for that riff-raff.'

'Listen smartass,' Ron started but Harry pushed him roughly out of the way.

'Tom,' he said easily, pulling out his Auror's badge and placing it on the bar, 'It's Ministry business we're on.'

Tom looked down at the Auror badge than back at Harry.

'You're an Auror?' Tom said in disbelief. 'But aren't you still in school? '

'Special privileges,' Harry answered. 'Now do you know where he is?'

Tom looked from Ron who was still fuming, and Harry who was leaning into the bar, staring firmly back.

'Well,' he started. 'There's this, er, how I put this?'

'Spit it out!' Ron roared.

'Ok,' Tom said. 'Down at Borgin and Burkes, this new, uh, artifact came in. It's a necklace, opal, goblin made. It's owner are the Malfoys.'

'And?' Harry pressed.

Tom did a quick look around the bar, hoping the man in the corner wouldn't hear him.

'Bunch of unsavory characters been comin' into that store, making bets on it. Price is getting pretty high.'

'That all?' Ron said.

Tom shot him a look.

'Word on the street,' he said lowering his voice, 'is that Fletcher is the one who brought it in, and he's gonna take a rake from Borgin on whoever buys it. That's all I know.'

Harry didn't look satisfied but Ron was already halfway to the back door, Hermione calling after him. Harry did a turn, and snatched the badge from the bar counter.

'Thanks.'

Tom shook his head.

'Good luck, Mr. Potter. And for the love of Merlin be careful.'

Harry nodded and raced out to catch up with Ron and Hermione.

'Ron, wait up!' Harry called after him.

Ron was storming down Diagon Alley, Hermione next to him, furtively shooting nervous glances back at Harry.

'Ron,' Harry stammered. 'Christ, will you slow it down?'

Ron stopped and turned.

'For what?' he said. He didn't seem angry, but elated. Maybe it was the fact he was finally with Harry on helping him, and that he was no longer out of the loop. Harry wondered if maybe he should go along with whatever Ron was going to do, so he wouldn't be too mad about Ginny sleeping in the same bed with him last night, but that thought immediately passed on the grounds of pure foolishness.

'We can't just waltz in the there!' Harry said.

'Why not?' Ron said. 'It's Mundungus, Harry. Mundungus. He's no match for us.'

'What about Borgin?' Hermione asked angrily.

Ron waved his hand.

'He's a shop owner, big deal.'

'Who helped Draco and Death Eaters get into Hogwarts,' Harry said furiously. 'What we need is a plan.'

'We got a plan,' Ron said shrugging. 'Go in there, tell Borgin to get Mundungus to come in, and if he doesn't, we'll curse his ass.'

'God Ron,' Hermione said. 'You are so tactless!'

'What that hell does that mean?' Ron said.

'It's not a coded message,' Hermione hissed. 'Tactless!'

'Wait a sec,' Harry said. 'That's brilliant!'

'What do you mean?' Ron and Hermione said simultaneously.

'You're both right,' Harry said. 'We should just go in there and ask Borgin to get Mundungus, but we are going to be a little more tactful about it.'

'Harry,' Hermione said. 'We can't just walk into Borgin and Burkes.'

'You're half right, Hermione,' Harry said grinning. 'We can't go in there, but you can.'

'What are you on about?' Ron asked at a loss.

'We need to go to my vault in Gringotts,' Harry said walking past them. 'I'll explain the rest on the way.'

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances but quickly followed Harry to the wizarding bank run by goblins.

Half an hour later, the three walked out of Gringotts. Harry green in the face, not because of the amount of gold he had taken out, but from the vomit-inducing trip he had to take to get to his money in his vault, and back.

'I can't believe I'm agreeing to this,' Ron was muttering as he, Harry and Hermione walked slowly through Knockturn Alley.

'Who said you had a choice?' Hermione said fixing her hair and tucking a velvet bag brimming with Galleons into her jacket.

'Don't see why I can't go,' he muttered.

'Because it will take Borgin two seconds to figure out who you are,' Hermione said slowly, as if talking to an idiot. 'He might not recognize me.'

'But, Hermione, you're a -'

'If you're going to say anything about me being a girl I swear to God, Ron Weasley, I'll hex the living hell out of you!'

'I wonder why you two don't date,' Harry said more to himself, but Ron blushed, and Hermione let out a squeak.

They walked in silence until they neared Borgin and Burkes and Hermione turned to face Ron and Harry. She took a deep calming breath and handed Ron something.

'What's this?' he asked perplexed.

'Extendable Ear,' she said. She gave him a smile. 'Just in case.'

She then did something that caught everyone by surprise. She grabbed Ron's shirt, pulled him down and kissed him. She broke away suddenly and looked at him with hopeful brown eyes.

'Just in case,' she said again, and walked around the corner to the shop's front door.

Ron stood there gaping. Harry was more flummoxed to say anything but grinned good-naturally and thumped his best friend on the shoulder.

Ron stood there, looking at the spot Hermione had vanished. He cleared his throat and nodded vigorously.

'Yea,' he said. 'Yea, let's go.'

Borgin and Burkes was exactly how Harry and Ron had remembered it, a shabby old rot of a building that could have been mistaken for something being condemned had it not been for the numerous trinkets, artifacts and accessories that lined the stained black corners.

They walked around the building to the side where they found an open window and pushed the Ear up and over the railing, where it landed on a top shelf as Hermione walked in. Her eyes were cold as she walked directly up to Borgin, a sullen face man with long black unkempt hair and hollow eyes.

'We're closed,' he wheezed not looking up at her.

'You're Mr. Borgin are you not?' Hermione said flatly.

Borgin looked up, a man who obviously didn't like to be talked to in such a manner. He coolly surveyed Hermione as if she was lost.

'What do you want?' he spat.

Hermione said nothing. She merely pulled out the velvet bag and dropped it without a care on the wooden counter, several galleons spilling out right in front of Borgin, whose eyes lit up as if Christmas had come early. Hermione looked at him dead in the eye, unemotionally.

'One thousand Galleons,' she said. 'That the highest bid?'

Borgin looked at the gold longingly than remembered himself and looked back at Hermione.

'Highest bid for what?' he snapped.

'Don't play games, Borgin,' Hermione said acidly. 'The necklace you idiot.'

Borgin looked at Hermione then back to the gold.

'Don't know what you're talking about,' he said, but his eyes drifted.

'So,' Hermione said unwavering. 'The necklace is worth more? Doubt it. You can't sell it for any higher of a price before gaining too much attention and from what I hear some pompous asshole Auror named Longstreet is looking in on you, after Mrs. Malfoy's murder. Doesn't the necklace belong to the Malfoys? You need some running away money, am I right?'

That got Borgin's attention. His eyes darted to the door, half-expecting to see a group of Aurors run into the room.

'Haven't I seen you before?' he said, his eyes widening. 'Who are you?'

'Doesn't matter now does it, considering what I know,' Hermione said, and Harry had to give credit to her. Ron was starting to shake next to him, his wand already in his hand.

'Look Borgin,' Hermione said resting her elbows on the counter and placing his fingers together. 'Fletcher is gonna take, what – a seventy percent cut of that necklace. That gives you 300. Not really enough money to run on, don't you think? Perhaps you should take the necklace with you.'

Borgin eyes broke away from the velvet bag and back on Hermione.

'Whadda mean, girly?' he whispered in a hoarse voice.

'I mean,' Hermione said leaning closer to the decrepit wizard. 'I don't want the necklace. It's yours, keep it.'

Borgin's eyes narrowed.

'Well, well,' he said leaning closer that he and Hermione were only an inch apart. 'What do you want?'

Hermione could feel the acrid smell of Borgin's breath, his eyes gleaming with awful intention, his right hand wandering over the counter. Ron was nearly about to break for the door, but Harry grabbed him roughly by the arm, waiting for the last minute.

'Mr. Borgin,' Hermione said coolly. 'What I want is Mundungus Fletcher.'

Borgin didn't move, but smiled, exposing off colored brown and yellow teeth.

'Fletcher?'

'That's right,' she said hitching her eyebrows and leaning even closer to Borgin. 'Do you know where he might be?'

Borgin smile broadened.

'Let me see if I get this straight,' he hummed, his eyes going over Hermione. 'I tell you where he is, and I keep the money?'

Hermione smirked back. 'That's right.'

'And what is he to you?' he asked, this time, taking his hand and trailing it along Hermione's arm.

'Bastard!' Ron shouted, but Harry grabbed him once more.

'Ron,' Harry hissed. 'Not yet!'

Borgin's head shot up and looked over at the window Harry and Ron were hiding beneath. Hermione gently placed a hand on the side of his face and directed it back to her.

'That's not part of our deal, honey,' Hermione whispered. 'Tell me where he is, and you keep the money.'

Borgin resumed caressing Hermione's forearm. He leaned closer, and Hermione put her hand behind Borgin's head.

'Mr. Borgin?'

Borgin continued to caress Hermione's arm, and he placed his other hand on the side of her face.

'332 Hawthorne Lane, Room 12,' he cooed to her. 'Is the money I all I get?'

'Son of a bitch!' Ron said and this time, he broke free of Harry and ran around the building, wand in hand, heading for the front door.

Without thinking, Harry broke the window latch, the glass cascading down to the floor. Borgin whirled his head to see Harry trying to get through the window, his wand pointing directly at the aged shop owner.

Borgin had time to growl before there was a dull thud, and the sound of glass shattering once more, and he fell to the floor unconscious. A second later, Ron burst into room, wand in hand, pointing at the counter where a moment ago Borgin stood. Harry fell through the open window and landed into the shop. He scrambled to his feet to see Ron gawking at Hermione who was standing next to the counter, panting hard. She was holding in her hand the bottom of a shattered vase, her eyes wide and furious.

She looked down at Borgin disgustingly before grabbing the bag and tossing it to Harry.

'Okay,' she said fuming, 'Let's go get Mundungus. And lets make it fast, I really need a shower.'

And with that, she dropped the broken vase, and headed out of the store into Knockturn Alley, Ron and Harry staring inconceivably after her.

Hawthorne Lane reminded Harry of a place he had once passed through in New York City with Castor, Sevagio and Professor Addams. It was the kindof vibe that crept up your neck, and every sound you heard was that of a guy's feet scrambling right before he hit you on the back of the head and stole your wallet.

Harry and Ron had not said a word to Hermione, the shock of what they had seen kept them from words. The three merely walked down the narrow sidewalks until they came to Mundungus' building.

'I hope that pillock Borgin wasn't lying,' Harry said looking up at the foundation. It was several stories tall, all brick with concrete lining. It looked like a building that had fallen from the graces of architectural advancement and was too lazy to get back up. The door to the building was wide open and a shabby grey cat emerged from the landing, its yellow eyes glancing at the three before briskly scurrying around the building and down an alley.

Harry, Ron and Hermione trudged two flights of peeling staircases that smelt like the faint whiff of benzene and wool tarnish before arriving on Mundungus floor. Room 12 was the last room on the right facing another brick building just as lazy as the one they were uncomfortably lurking through. Harry placed a finger to his mouth and pulled out the Extendable Ear. He pushed it through the doorway. He could faintly hear the sound of a radio in the back, a monotone voice discharging with Ministry Safety Protocol and the news of a Death Eater attack in south Wales. He then heard the sound of muffling coming from an adjoining room, the sound of heavy boots on the hallowed floors making a eerie creaking sound.

'He in there?' Ron whispered.

Harry nodded. It probably was Mundungus. He pulled out his wand and looked back at Hermione.

'Ok,' he said in a low voice. 'I'll knock on the door, and when he answers, WHOA RON!'

Harry had just enough time to duck as Ron kicked the door wide open and practically flew into the room. Inside standing in the middle of a room filled with books, silverware, grandfather clocks, suitcases and at least another dozen of stolen assortments was a lone man wearing a ragged grey suit, his hair matted to his round and squashy face, tangled with a beard long since over cut. Mundungus Fletcher was holding a large ancient looking grey circular tablet Harry noticed immediately as a Pensieve, his watering eyes staring in shock at the young redhead who had broken down his front door, and was now pointing his wand angrily in his particular direction.

'Weasley?' Fletcher wheezed uncertainly. 'Ron Weasley?'

Expelliarmus!

Ron's curse hit dead on, and a wand that had been tucked inside Mundungus' belt flew across the room and landed beside the radio.

'Don't move,' Ron said.

Mundungus shuffled his feet a bit, and lifted the Pensieve onto a small wooden dining room table, itself groaning under the weight of the object.

'By Merlin, Weasley,' Fletcher stammered. 'How great it is to see you! And Hermione Granger right? So wonderful to see you too!'

Harry took the opportunity to walk into the room. The second he was within view, the fake smile that had been plastered on Mundungus face vanished like a cloud of smoke. Harry looked at Mundungus without any feeling or emotion, but simply stared at the man as if he were nothing but a pain in his side. The man was trash, and Harry wanted nothing more than to curse him, but he had a chore to do first. He pulled out his wand slowly.

'So much for being tactful,' he muttered to Ron.

He focused his attention back on Mundungus who was nervously wringing his hands, casting nervous glances between Ron and Harry. He then turned his shoulder and noticed his wand was only a few feet away from him.

'Don't even try it,' Harry said. 'You oughta have a seat anyway.'

'Harry, I,' Mundungus said but he was caught off as Harry muttered something under his breath and a spell shot from his wand and struck Mundungus squarely in the chest. He flew back, bounced hard against the brick wall and crashed onto one of the clocks, smashing it into several pieces.

Harry marched across the room, hoping Mundungus wasn't knocked out, but in serious pain. From the look of blood coming from his head, it seemed that way.

'Don't hurt me, please,' Mundungus whimpered.

'I'm looking for an associate of yours,' Harry said, wand still pointing at the smuggler.

'What?'

'Ivan Tasky,' Ron said walking up to stand next to Harry. 'Where he is?'

Mundungus shook his head violently.

'I don't know,' he stuttered. 'I don't know.'

Ron moved forward and slapped Mundungus hard across the face.

'You thief,' he hissed. 'Do you have any idea what Hermione had to do to find you?'

Mundungus wiped drool from his face and held up his hands hoping to fend off Ron.

'I don't know,' he said again.

'Mundungus,' Harry said in a hollow voice. 'I want to know where he is.'

Mundungus looked at Harry for a brief moment, then his face completely changed. He stared resolutely back at Harry, and shook his head no.

'If I tell you I'm a dead man,' he said staring like a man committed. 'I'm not telling Potter. Kill me if you want, but you won't get one word outta me.'

Harry looked at Ron then back at Hermione who had a pleading look in her eyes.

'What do we do?' she mouthed to Harry.

Harry looked at Hermione then at Ron who was now looking a bit hesitant. He didn't mind crashing into Mundungus' flat, but he hadn't intended to kill him.

'What's the plan, mate?' he said.

Harry closed his eyes for a minute and tried to think. He lowered his wand and began pacing Mundungus' small living room, wand at his side, trying to mull it over. He looked back at the crumpled wizard on the floor.

'This Tasky must be important if you won't tell us where he is?' he finally said.

'Its not Tasky,' Mundungus dribbled wiping blood from his forehead. 'Its what he has!'

'What?' Harry said stopping and looking Mundungus in the eye. 'What did you say?'

Mundungus covered his mouth as if he wished he hadn't of said his last comment.

'Nothing!'

'What does Tasky have?' Harry said angrily.

'The Elixir of Life,' Hermione said. 'Castor told us about it. It's the only way to destroy them.'

'Castor?' Mundungus said now looking at Hermione, a look of horror on his face. 'Demetrius Castor?'

Harry looked at Mundungus again. It was clouded with a pure look of intense fear. It took Harry two seconds to realize that Mundungus knew Castor, and that he most assuredly didn't want to see him again.

'Shut it,' Ron said dangerously, 'Or I swear to God-'

'Lets take him,' Harry said finally.

'What?' Ron said.

'We're taking him back to Castor,' Harry said flatly. 'Would you like that Mundungus?'

'No!' Mundungus wailed. 'Please. You don't know what he'll do to me!'

'What's he got against you Mundungus?' Ron asked. 'You cross paths with him before, have you?'

'Tell us where Tasky is and we'll let you go!' Hermione said in a begging tone to Mundungus.

'Hermione!' Ron said.

'Forget him, Ron!' she shrilled. 'We have to get Tasky, not Mundungus.'

She stepped forward and kneeled in front of Mundungus so they were at face level.

'Mundungus,' she said pleading. 'Tell us where Tasky is, and we'll let you go!'

Mundungus' head wobbled from side to side, his eyes glazed over from the hit by Ron, and he was groaning from the collision with the brick wall. But he took a deep breath and glared at the girl in front of him.

'So you're with Castor huh,' he said smirking as blood continued to pour down the middle of his pudgy face. 'You think you know him, eh?'

He leaned forward and spat on the dusty floorboards.

'I tell you where Tasky is and I'm a dead man,' he said slowly. 'And I won't tell you. And if Castor gets hold of me, I'm a dead man, after what I did to Sirius.'

Harry, Ron and Hermione all looked at each other.

'What?' Harry finally said looking down at Mundungus. 'What did you say? What do you mean, what you did to Sirius?'

Mundungus bobbed his head, and sighed. He looked about to pass out. Harry viciously grabbed Mundungus by the coat and shoved him back against the wall. Mundungus groaned again.

'What did you do to Sirius?' he yelled in Mundungus face.

'Harry!' Hermione shrilled.

'TELL ME!' Harry shouted.

'You already know,' Mundungus said coughing and shaking back, his weak hands trying to fend off Harry's attack. 'I stole from him. I took his things. I took his brother's things.'

'Regulus?' Harry said, his blood rising with every word. 'What does that have to do with Castor?'

Mundungus coughed once more. His head continued to sway from side to side. Harry again shoved him into the wall.

'Mundungus!' he yelled.

But the smuggler didn't say anything. His eyes had rolled back and he passed out. Harry, after several moments let go of Mundungus and stood up. He looked around the room then to Hermione and Ron. He sighed and grabbed Mundungus and heaved him onto the nearby couch.

'We need to get him back to Inis Clove.'

'Harry,' Hermione said warningly.

'I want to know what he knows,' Harry said looking down at Mundungus. 'We'll worry about Tasky later. A day is not going to change anything.'

'He's not going to tell us,' Ron said.

'I'm not expecting him to,' Harry said. 'But maybe I can get something out of Castor.'

'You're crazy,' said a voice from the doorway.

Harry, Ron and Hermione all turned around to see a tall lanky man standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets, smirking down at the crumpled heap of Mundungus Fletcher.

'Absolutely crazy,' he said again and he cackled that hyena laugh of his that would have made Harry's skin crawl if he hadn't been too preoccupied in disbelief in seeing James Longstreet standing five feet from him.

'What,' Harry said. 'What the hell are you doing here?'

Longstreet smirked. He pulled out a silver case and flicked it open to reveal a dozen hand rolled cigarettes. He took out one and slid it into the side of his mouth, his wand igniting in the other hand.

'Ummmm,' he said as a plume of smoke escaped from his lips and hovered in the air. 'I's hears from a reliable source tat yuda be comin' after dis 'ere smuggler.'

'Castor that reliable source?' Harry said immediately figuring out that once again, Castor had played him, and had Longstreet tail he, Ron and Hermione.

'Coulda been,' Longstreet drawled. 'But youz probably right, Potter. Not goin' to lets you figure out any more though. I gots to get paid. Daddy, as they say, needs a new pair of everythin.'

Longstreet stepped further into the room and looked about at all the merchandise Mundungus had stolen. He opened a drawer on the nightstand on which the radio sat on and pulled out a small jewelry box. Inside he took out a beautiful opal necklace.

'My lans,' Longstreet said as he twisted the necklace into the light. 'Now dis 'ere is jus' da' thing for dis lovely secretary I jus' got meself acquainted wiz.'

'You're stealing that?' Ron said to Longstreet who shrugged as he pocketed the necklace.

'Can't steal somethin' already stolen, Weasley,' the southerner said grinning.

Harry saw for the briefest of seconds Longstreet take another item out of the box and quickly stick it into his pocket. He then bent down and picked up the wand of Mundungus Fletcher.

'You three,' he said. 'I sugges' youz take Misser Fletcher down Inis Clove way, let Demy have a look at 'em.'

With that, Longstreet headed for the door, but not before turning around and grinning.

'By the way, tat waz a real nice touch at da Leaky Cauldron Potter, showin' your badge an all tat,' he said chuckling. 'Pretty damn funny I'd say, even if I am a pompous asshole right darlin'. Oh, and you best be hurryin' up dare, Miz Granger, don't wanna be late for your shower.'

And with that, he was gone.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked after him. After a moment of silence, Hermione huffed angrily, stood up, and grabbed Ron by the shoulder. She looked back at Harry.

'You can do side along Apparation, right?' she asked.

Harry nodded.

'Fine,' Hermione said. 'See you soon.'

With that, she and Ron Apparated. Harry was now alone in the room with Mundungus. He looked at the man, and saw himself standing up and killing him, for reasons he didn't quite understand. Damn Longstreet and whatever he meant by getting paid off by Castor. What he wanted to know more of was what did Mundungus mean about what Castor would do to him. And what did that have to do with Sirius and Regulus? Harry tried to piece it together. Mundungus and Sirius had been friends until his death. Then Mundungus was caught by Harry at Hogsmeade trying to sell off Sirius' pocessions. Could that be it? But why would Castor want to kill Mundungus for that? Seemed rather excessive. There was something else, and Harry was getting a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach as he heaved Mundungus into a sitting position, thought about the big house on the ocean side with a black BMW sitting on the front porch, and with a small POP, he too was gone.

A second later, Longstreet walked back into the room, took out a cell phone, and punched in a number.

'Yea,' he drawled into the phone, 'he's right on your front porch. Oh, an' Demy?... I found a locket for ya.'

Castor said nothing to Ron, Hermione or Harry as he magically lifted the unconscious lump of Mundungus Fletcher up the flight of stairs and into the parlor. He eased the man into a chair and immediately a burst of chains shot out from beneath and wrapped tightly around him. He turned his attention back to Hermione.

'You're parents left before you woke up this morning Ms. Granger and have been accessing the damage on their house,' he said. 'They are now here for good, until everything evens out that is. You might want to go say hi to them, they've been asking about you all day, and I don't feel like lying anymore.'

Hermione looked at Mundungus for a moment then back at Castor, who was busy pouring himself a drink. She looked at Harry with fear and uncertainty as to what Castor was planning on doing with the unconscious wizard. She looked at Ron for a moment before grabbing his hand, and leading him out of the room. Harry stood there for a minute before realizing just how pissed he was at Castor.

'You sent me to get Tasky,' he snarled. 'And you had me tailed!'

'No, Potter,' Castor said. 'I sent you to get Mundungus Fletcher and I had you tailed.'

Harry was taken aback.

'The hell do you mean!' he shouted. 'You told me, this morning, that I had to find Ivan Tasky, an Ex-Auror who had the only vile of the Elixir of Life, which is now our only way of destroying the Horcrux, and that Mundungus was the way of getting to him. That's what you said!'

Castor took a swig from his drink then looked over at Harry.

'So?'

Harry stared blankly, again trying to figure out why he put up with Demetrius Castor.

'I'm out of here,' Harry said and he abruptly turned around and started for the door.

'Ok,' Castor said indifferently. 'But before you leave you don't want to know why I had you go after Mundungus?'

'I know why,' Harry said turning angrily around. 'Because you want to test me right? You want to make sure I'm up for the challenge. That I can handle myself when the shit hits the fan!'

Harry picked up the closest thing to him, an unlabeled bottle of amber liquid and flung it as hard as he could against a wall. Castor looked at the broken bottle and pool of liquor that was now forming on his carpet. But Harry wasn't done.

'In your sick and twisted fucking mind,' Harry yelled, 'you think you can mess with me? Well, forget it. You wouldn't believe what Hermione did to find this bag of shit! And Ron could've gotten killed when he went through the door at the speed of fucking light!'

Harry kicked the piano and pointed a finger at Castor, his blood on fire.

'This worthless, meaningless sack of crap nearly got me killed, and all you can say is that me and my damn friends went through all of it for fucking nothing!'

Castor shrugged.

'Well yea,' he answered. 'If you count finding another Horcrux nothing then sure. Oh and by the way, you owe me 400 bucks for the bottle you just broke.'

Harry opened his mouth but nothing came out. The statement knocked him completely back.

'That was Balvenie 1976 Single Cask Scotch,' Castor said looking at the bottle now a thousand small little pieces of glass on his carpet. 'I was saving it for a special occasion.'

'What?' Harry finally said.

Castor smirked and dug into his pocket and pulled out something that Harry had only seen once before, though it had been a fake.

'Longstreet just dropped this off for you,' he said.

Dangling from Castor's hand, mere inches away from the beaten form of Mundungus Fletcher, was the Locket of Salazar Slytherin. It looked just like the one Harry and Dumbledore had gone after, only to find out it was a fake. Harry looked back at Castor.

'I don't understand.'

'R.A.B.' Castor said plainly. 'You know it took me a while to put it all together, what with all the things you told tell me over the summer about the fake Horcrux Dumbledore found. With some advance studying up on past Death Eaters and close associates of the Dark Lord over the last fifty years, one name stuck out a little, and its not a coincidence that that family name happened to have some serious pull in the wizarding world for quite a long time.'

'R.A.B.' Harry said.

'Regulus Arcturus Black,' said a voice from the doorway.

Harry turned to see Hermione and Ron standing side by side. Hermione came into the room followed closely by Ron who was looking straight at the Locket with a look of disbelief.

Hermione went up to Castor and continued slowly.

'Regulus Black. He was a Death Eater and he went after this Locket, didn't he? He found it, planned to destroy it, but he never could. After his death, the Locket remained in his hiding place at his home at Grimmauld Place.'

Castor looked down at the locket then threw it unceremoniously on the table.

'Not a good enough hiding place apparently,' he said walking closer to Harry. 'After the house was left to you, and you gave it to the Order of the Phoenix, Mundungus could easily get to it, without worrying about anybody catching him stealing anything. He saw the locket, thought he could make a couple of galleons, and took off with it, along with a few other things.'

'Looks like he never got around to selling it,' Ron said.

'Guess not,' Castor said. He looked back at Harry.

'I didn't lie to you on purpose, Potter,' he said. 'I lied to you because I was hoping that you and your friends would figure it out before you got to Tasky. If you found Mundungus and realized the connection with him R.A.B., the ransacking of Grimmauld Place, the dealings with Borgin and Burke, which incidentally is where Voldemort worked and where another Horcrux winded up, then you wouldn't care about finding Tasky.'

'But he has the only way to destroy a Horcrux!' Hermione said.

At that moment Mundungus Fletcher made a wheezing cough. His eyes slowly fluttered open and he looked up in horror to see Demetrius Castor smiling down at him.

'Good evening Mundungus,' Castor said.

Mundungus' mouth gaped open and tears began to stream from his face. Castor gave him a quick pat on the shoulder.

'I'll be with you in a minute.'

He walked Hermione, Ron and Harry out of the parlor and down the flight of stairs.

'Tasky will be found,' he said confidently. 'Its only a matter of time, and besides there are other ways to destroy a Horcrux.'

'None which he have,' Ron muttered.

Castor stopped.

'What was that Weasley?'

Ron stopped in surprise and looked at Hermione and Harry who were gaping at him in shock.

'Uh,' Ron said. 'Well, didn't you say this morning that's it's the only known way to destroy a Horcrux that we have at the moment?'

Castor eyed Ron suspiciously for a brief second before nodding.

'Yea,' he said after a beat. 'I did say that.'

'Why is that?' Harry asked looking directly into Castor's eyes.

'Don't worry about it,' Castor said turning. 'You three stay downstairs for the night.'

'Professor Castor,' Harry called after him.

'What?' Castor snarled in reply.

Harry looked at Hermione and Ron, then looked resolutely back at Castor.

'Mundungus said something earlier about being afraid of you. That you'd kill him because of what he did to Sirius Black.'

In one second, the briefest of moments, a flash of emotion passed over Castor's face, so quickly, that Harry wasn't sure if he saw it, but he did. But Castor face was a blank slate as he turned to completely face Harry.

'The hell was he saying?' Castor asked.

'He said,' Harry started taking a deep composing breath, 'that would you kill him for stealing from Sirius Black. Is that true?'

Castor looked at Harry for a cool minute, his eyes like chips of ice. Suddenly, without breaking eye contact or showing any emotion, the young wizard shook his head.

'No, Potter,' he said. 'That's not true.'

Without another word, he walked back up the to parlor and slowly closed the door.

Hermione looked over at Ron.

'You idiot,' she hissed. 'Why don't you just tell him I was spying on him and Sevagio!'

'Sorry,' Ron said looking at Harry, who hadn't taken his eyes off the door to the parlor. 'You ok, mate? I thought you'd be thrilled. That's another Horcrux down. The Locket and the Cup, all within a week!'

Harry continued to look at the door and heaved a great sigh.

Hermione stepped closer to Harry and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

'That's another Horcrux down, Harry,' she said.

But Harry didn't say anything, he just continued to look at the door from which Castor had disappeared into.

'Harry,' Hermione said tentatively. 'Are you getting the feeling that Professor Castor isn't telling you something?'

After a pause, Harry, Ron and Hermione heard a blood-curdling scream from the upstairs parlor, the pleading and dying wails of Mundungus Fletcher resonated through the door and down the stairs to where they were standing. Finally, they were cut short as a flash of pale green light illuminated the cracks in the door and there was deathly silence. Harry didn't feel any sorrow to know that Mundungus Fletcher was now dead, nor did he even care that another Horcrux had been found, and he was closer to ending it once and for all with Lord Voldemort. What bothered him the most was that Demetrius Castor had just lied to him.

'No Hermione,' he finally said. 'I'm getting the feeling that there is something Sirius never told me.'

A/N: This book will be completed by Spring 2011.