Chapter Twenty: Four Conversations

It was Christmas Eve in Boston, Massachusetts, and the weather was turning nasty. Sleet, large chunks of it, came down from the dark sky and pelted every inch of the city. From Southie, to Charleston, and all the way up to the campuses of Harvard and Emory, Boston in only a few short hours had been transformed into a cold and grey blanket littered with golden lights and flashing neons while motorists careened over the Charles River in their attempt to get home to their loved ones. The Bunker Hill Memorial, an enormous obelisk that stood ramrod straight in the north end was barely visible through the storm, yet it was a constant reminder to all who saw it who the studhorse was in New England.

Sarah Davenport was home. She lived in a traditional red brick building north of Boston in Charleston, about a block from Bunker Hill and the best Italian food found on the eastern seaboard. Her home had once been a boarding house, and from the rooftop patio on which she spent most of her nights while away from Balmorhea she could see Paul Revere's house, the Old North Church and downtown Boston, the Charles River lazily twisting around the city and filling into Cape Cod as if by its own volition. Her parents had asked her every question about her trip to Hogwarts, and she was relieved none of them came in the vicinity of the fifty rules she had broken with Harry Potter.

Harry Potter

The boy was purely fantastic. It wasn't just the name that gave him such an aura of interest, but he was, to her surprise, a boy. He was kind, nervous and flawlessly idiotic when it came to the demands of a woman when in need. He was the first to deny her the sweet pleasures of the new alluring action of sex. Sarah knew her grapple on men; she knew what she looked like. She was gorgeous and fantastically breathtaking – even as she gazed at her body in the silken moonlight of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom in her seductive outfit before Harry had arrived late, she surmised with a coy smile that no man in his right mind would refuse her. Harry, she thought, would burst through the room with a breath of anticipation, see her in the candle glow, and jump on the bed like a horny moron, his hands going in every direction; frantically kissing her neck and aiming for the kill.

But he hadn't.

Something was wrong with him, she thought at the time. Hadn't he slipped the key to the room into her hand and dashed out of the Ball to probably do his male 'thing' before having sex? And yet when he came into the room, he seemed a million miles away. But Sarah hadn't minded at the time. He was, after all, there.

Still, it had been a magical night for her. She had spent a wonderful time with him at Hogsmeade, had danced with him at the ball which was exquisite and had spent the night curled up like a kitten in his arms. She was a little disappointed that he hadn't invited her down to the gamekeeper's hut with Ron and Hermione, but she had forgotten all about it by the night of the Winter Ball. He had refused her, for reasons she possibly couldn't fathom. Even if he was a virgin, in that place, on that night, who would pass up such an opportunity?

Not many, she thought bitterly.

Her parents were upstairs asleep and she was about to go back to tune the radio to some Christmas music in hopes of hearing some Bing Crosby when there was a loud whoosh from the fireplace, and her living room was suddenly basking in a green glow. She let out a startled cry. In the burning embers of the fireplace was Harry Potter himself, his head anyways, smiling up at her.

'Harry?' she said standing up.

'Hey,' he said smiling. 'Hope I didn't scare you.'

'Harry,' she said. 'It's Christmas Eve and your head is in my fireplace. I know I told you to say in touch with me, but this isn't exactly what I had in mind.'

'Sorry,' he mumbled.

'Sarah!' came loud voice from upstairs. 'Are you okay, sweetie?'

'It's my Dad!' she whispered to Harry. She turned her head and said in a high voice, 'Fine Dad. Just stubbed my toe.'

She looked back at Harry, and couldn't help but smile. His eyes shifted nervously around the living room.

'Look Sarah,' he said. 'I got a big favor to ask you.'

'Sure,' she said uncertainly.

'Uh,' he stammered. 'I don't know exactly how to say this, but Ron and Hermione are coming to the U.S. tomorrow. I need you to take them to where ever it is that keeps the personal files of wizards.'

She looked at him in disbelief.

'Harry,' she said, 'You gotta be joking. Tomorrow is Christmas.'

'I know,' he said impatiently. 'I'm hoping that it'll be easier for them to get the information I need without drawing attention.'

'But Harry,' she said. 'I can't sneak out on Christmas. My parents will go ballistic.'

Harry sighed. This was not what he needed.

'Ok,' he said.

'What are you looking for?'

'I can't really tell you,' he said without looking at her.

'Come on Harry,' she said. 'How am I supposed to help you if you don't tell me?'

'But you're not helping me,' Harry said with a dash of annoyance in his voice.

'I can't go, Harry,' she said. 'But I can at least tell you where Ron and Hermione need to go to get what you want, and by the way, why aren't you going?'

'It's complicated,' he said lamely, and again Sarah noticed he was looking everywhere but at her.

'Harry –'

'I said it's complicated,' he snapped.

Sarah put her hands on her hips.

'This wouldn't have anything to do with Professor Castor would it?' she said archly.

Harry looked away.

Busted.

Harry thought about the past two hours he had paced the study after Castor had killed Mundungus Fletcher, and Castor's reaction to when Harry had asked him about Sirius. There was something there, Harry noticed. There was something, just there. There was something Castor wasn't telling him that had something to do with his past, and somehow, Sirius had been involved in it. No way, Harry had finally concluded, would someone like McGonagall give Castor the job of Defense teacher, not to mention Head of Gryffindor unless Castor had something McGonagall wanted. Castor was a murdering hot tempered maniac, and from what Hermione had told Harry from the conservation between him and Sevagio; how Castor had cursed the Auror for mentioning his parents, and then tonight when Castor had killed Mundungus even after getting the Horcrux, there was simply something more to Castor that Harry had overlooked, even tried to avoid. Harry knew then that something in Castor's past was the reason he was risking his life at Hogwarts, what he was doing with him, and the reason he had agreed to the assignment, whatever it was, which was coincidentally given to him by the Minister of Magic himself. One thing that did make perfect sense to Harry was whatever the reason Castor was doing this, it had nothing to do with money.

'I need to know Castor's past,' Harry said simply. 'Where he grew up, who his parents were, where he spent his time while we was away from school, his Auror career, everything.'

'And you thought I'd know all this?' Sarah said incredulously. 'The only thing I know about him is that he became an Auror after school. I read about him and the goblin rebellion at Jamestown. He was famous for a while because of what he did there. I didn't know he was even at Hogwarts until I saw him there.'

'You're the only American I know Sarah,' Harry exclaimed. 'And I can't ask Addams or he'll get suspicious.'

'He'd be a lot more than suspicious honey,' she said smirking.

Harry sighed again.

'Ok,' he said. 'I know it's stupid to ask you, but I really need to know. There's something about him, something he's doing that doesn't make any sense.'

'And you think his life at school or Auror career would tell you?' Sarah asked raising an eyebrow.

Harry nodded.

'Pretty much.'

Sarah studied him for a moment and tried not to smile at the idea that the Boy Who Lived was now asking her, of all people, for help. It wasn't the level of help that she had expected from him, then immediately reminded herself that the only thing she thought he would want from her is some 'female company.' Albeit there was nothing normal about Professor Castor, Sarah thought. Everyone knew he was incredibly talented and a bit obsessive, but Sarah would never think that who he was would have such an impact on Harry. Although Sarah was a tight, longed legged blonde, she wasn't an idiot. She guessed correctly that Harry knew something, or at least had a very good guess about something she didn't know about Demetrius Castor. Then, an idea struck her.

'There is one thing I know that might help out,' she said.

'Yea?' Harry asked, his eyes brightening at the glimmer of possibility of good news.

'My cousin is an Auror,' she explained. 'He told me when he was going through the training process the Ministry had VED'ed him.'

'Vedded?' Harry asked confused.

'V.E.D.,' Sarah said. 'Verify for exact disclosure. They investigated his past. Muggle schools he went too, his parents, school records, any criminal activity. They even found a misdemeanor when he got caught drinking underage in a muggle bar in Nantucket. Almost got him thrown out of the Auror Department.'

'Aside from the fact I have no idea where Nantucket is,' Harry said, 'you're saying the Auror Department of the U.S. does a full investigation on potential Aurors?'

'Of course,' Sarah said. 'Unless you feel like slipping Professor Addams veritaserum, your best bet is to get Castor's personal records at the Auror Department in the Ministry of Magic.'

'And where is that?' he asked.

'Washington D.C.' she said. 'But Harry, come on, there's no way Ron and Hermione can get to those records.'

'How do they get to the Ministry?' he asked ignoring her.

'Harry,' Sarah said dropping her voice. 'It's insane.'

'Sarah,' he said looking her in the eye, 'I really like you, and I am really sorry to be putting you into this position, but I need those records.'

Sarah looked at him, and the firmness in his glare was something she saw in him when he played that day in Quidditch, and when he had passed the key to her when they were dancing at the Winter Ball.

'I'll help you,' she said finally. 'I'll help you, but I hate to say this to you Harry, if they get caught, or anything goes South, this conversation never happened.'

Sarah outlined for him how Ron and Hermione could floo to the Ministry of Magic in Washington, and how to find the Auror Department. She even conceded to Harry that she would call her cousin and hopefully, with his help, it would go a little easier. Harry doubted anything going smoothly at this point, but he did tell her fervently he would write to her the second he had the chance. Sarah did; however, ask about Ginny. Harry, knowing he'd be caught lying, said aloofly that she had been sleeping in his bed the past few nights. Although Sarah had smirked and said 'lucky girl,' Harry could see the hurt in her eyes.

As he said goodbye and vanished, Sarah gave a small and sad smile and muttered as she made her way to bed, 'in another life, maybe.'

Harry drew himself up to full height from the fireplace and darted for the desk and immediately scribbled down the information Sarah had given him. He checked his watch. It was two in the morning, Christmas Day. He stuffed the piece of parchment into his pocket and made his way to the drawing room downstairs where he had left Ron and Hermione, praying along the way that Ginny was asleep. But as he passed Castor's office, he heard voices, one sharp and angry, the other humorous and laughing. The laugh was like a hyena's.

Longstreet, Harry knew at once. He tip-toed to the outer door and listened intently.

'Dat Head Girl, man oh man,' Longstreet was saying laughing to himself, 'She's gotta herself some cojones. She mighta seem like'a little bookworm, but she got them rocks, boy-o. Demy, I fuckin tell ya, ya shoulda seen that vixen in Borgins. A damn firecracker with legs. Goddamn, I wish I waz a little younger.'

'And how old is the blonde secretary you're banging?' Harry heard Castor's voice answer in a deadpan.

'How'd you know bout that?'

'I do my homework Jimmy.'

There was silence in the room for a minute. Harry mused Longstreet was standing in the middle of it, his hands in his pockets, and an arrogant smile on his face, as if he didn't care if his own mother knew who he was sleeping with.

'You're gonna need more help than what you're getting Demy,' Longstreet said in a collective tone. 'And you know I'm right.'

'Let's get on with it,' Castor said impatiently. 'How much you want?'

'What's da Ministry payin you for dis little assignment?' Longstreet asked.

Harry leaned in closer. So Longstreet knows about the assignment Castor was given from Scrimgeour.

'A lot,' Castor answered coolly.

'Okay,' Longstreet said. 'I'll take half of it.'

'Not happening.'

'Half.'

'No.'

'Half Professor Castor,' Longstreet said in a smug voice.

'Go fuck yourself Jimmy,' Castor replied, his own turning sharp.

'Okay,' Longstreet said slowly. 'I'll take whatever you want to give me. Potter would 'ave gotten it anyways. But lessen 'ere Demy, you won't mind I go and ave a little chat wit Kate bout you meetin' up wit Sonia Cobb?'

There was a dull thud from inside the room and Harry guessed Castor had slammed his glass down on the desk in anger. His tone when addressing Longstreet confirmed it.

'You're blackmailing me James?'

Longstreet chuckled.

'That's what you wanna call it.'

'Jimmy, come on,' Castor said annoyed. 'We go back a long way.'

'Which is why I'm askin you dare Demy, an not jus' tellin ya. Now, bout my pay.'

'Five thousand and not a sickle more,' Castor said after heaving a sigh.

'Okay,' Longstreet said quickly. 'You don't need to pay me now, jus' swing it back to my account in Louisiana.'

'Louisiana?'

'Yea,' Longstreet drawled. 'I'm sick of dis fuckin' weather, Demy. I'm sick of da fuckin' war, and I'm really sick of you fuckin Order members thinkin' you're gonna win dis thing.'

'The hell you on about?' Castor asked.

Longstreet scoffed aloud, and Harry wondered if he was going to make the same mistake Sevagio had done and get himself cursed on the spot.

'He's too powerful for Potter, Demy,' he said, the humor in his voice vanishing. 'Even you should know dat. He's gonna rip dat boy piece by piece, and youz no match for him either. Both ya'll dead in da fuckin water.'

Harry could hear Longstreet cross the room and pull his coat on.

'Done yet?' Castor asked tongue in cheek.

'Pretty much,' Longstreet answered. 'I'm goin' home. Youz tell the Minister I quit, and to leave me somethin' in his will.'

'Just like that huh?' Castor said angrily. 'You would do great in Slytherin you know that, you fucking hyena.'

'Probably true,' Longstreet said. 'But I didn't come to dis rotten country to get myself killed; I came here to get paid.'

'Leave me hanging like this Jim?' Castor said, and Harry could hear a trace of sadness in his voice.

'Fraid so my old friend,' Longstreet said. 'Ain't any point fightin a lost cause. Dis fuckin war you're in, it's gonna get worse 'fore it gets better, an I ain't got no damn interest in gettin more mixed in dis shit than I's already in.'

Longstreet walked to the door, and Harry lunged back and quickly ducked into the room that stood opposite Castor's office. He creaked the door open a few inches.

'But I'll tell you dis, Demy,' Longstreet said at the doorway. 'If you need any more muscle work done on the low-brows jus gimme a call, cuz you know how to put money in a fella's pocket.'

'I'll take your word on that,' Castor said slowly.

Longstreet chuckled.

'You will huh?'

'James,' Castor said and Harry could hear him walking forward towards the southerner. 'This is gonna be over sooner than you, and everyone else for that matter thinks.'

Longstreet looked at him unfazed.

'Dat's fine wit me Demetrius,' he said. 'I don reckon Mr. Dark Lord be comin' my way anytime soon, but if he ever crosses da Mississippi Delta, you be sure to let me know, long as youz still alive. Meantime, try not to stand too close to Potter you knows what I'm sayin? Lord knows I seen what 'appens to heroes.'

Longstreet turned on his heel and walked down the stairs whistling. He opened the front door, took one more look around the house, and was gone. Harry could see Castor through the creak in the door. He looked exhausted and a little drunk but he sniffed looking down at the front door before returning to his office. Although Harry knew Castor would never admit it, he trusted Longstreet, and that was saying a lot about the character of the southerner. Now he was gone, back to Louisiana, and it became clear to Harry that Castor didn't just have Longstreet tail him to make sure he succeeded in getting Mundungus Fletcher, he was tailing him to make sure that if Harry didn't find the Locket, Longstreet would, and get paid for it.

That's when Harry realized that he had just cost Demetrius Castor 5,000 galleons, and an uneasy feeling of dread came rushing into his mind.

Harry made his way down the staircase, taking several deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. He opened the door slowly and walked into the downstairs parlor. He knew at once that Ron and Hermione hadn't heard him enter because they were way too preoccupied. Hermione was leaning back on the couch, her legs over Ron's lap as she kissed him deeply. Ron was clumsily leaning closer to her, one hand draped over her shoulder, the other clutching the side of her waist. Ron pulled away from her lips and looked down at her anxiously. Hermione smiled reassuringly and took her hand in his and pulled him a little closer to her. Ron smiled nervously and leaned in awkwardly once more. Hermione tilted her head slightly and kissed him. Harry saw that Ron's hand was veering underneath Hermione's blouse when she pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss.

'Ron, wait –'

'Sorry,' Ron muttered quickly pulling his hand away.

'Uh,' Harry said quietly, but he didn't have to. The sound from the doorway jolted both Hermione and Ron as if he was speaking from a megaphone. They both turned and saw him. Hermione let out a yelp and tried to jump off Ron, who was still looking at Harry, and their heads collided.

'Ow!' Ron said as he toppled off Hermione and landed painfully on the floor.

For a minute nobody said anything. Hermione was sitting up straight on the couch smoothing her blouse as Ron rolled on the floor like a dead fish, clutching his forehead.

'Is this the right moment?' Harry said anxiously, but he was trying not to laugh.

'It's okay,' Hermione said not looking at him. 'Ron, get up!'

'Bloody hell,' Ron said sitting back on the couch. 'That hurt, Mione.'

'Don't swear Ron,' Hermione said.

She turned back to Harry who slowly walked into the room cautiously, as if his two best friends were going to attack each other again at any second.

'Where's Ginny?' he asked.

'Upstairs asleep,' Hermione said.

Harry was about to ask if she was in fact, asleep in his room, but a deadly look from Ron meant that he should keep quiet and wait until he found out himself.

'There's something I need you to do,' Harry said quickly.

Ron and Hermione looked at him, their lips still red.

Harry knew that his two best friends would do anything for him at this point, but as he summed up the courage to ask what would be the biggest favor he had ever wanted from them, the tumultuous anxiety he had felt through the night came washing back over him.

'I need you to floo to the Ministry of Magic in the United States,' he said hesitantly.

Unsurprisingly, Hermione and Ron both looked at him in shock, as if he had asked them to fight a Hungarian Horntail. Harry stood in front of them and went into it.

'Look,' he started, 'There's something about Castor that doesn't make any sense.'

'One thing?' Ron said sardonically.

'I just talked to Sarah, and she told me that all Aurors in the U.S. are vedded or something, that they are reviewed by the Ministry on their upbringings, and school history and all that stuff.'

'So?' Ron said.

'So,' Hermione interjected rolling her eyes towards Ron. 'Those files are kept at the Auror Department aren't they?'

'Yea,' Harry said. 'Sarah told me that the Ministry is in Washington D.C., and she has a cousin who's an Auror who might be able to help.'

'Slow down, mate,' Ron said. 'When did you talk to Sarah?'

'Just now,' Harry said. 'I needed to find out how to get Castor's background and she's the only American I know. I figured I could ask her, and if she didn't have any ideas, I could try something else, but she told me about the personal files, so that means you can get them.'

'You just talked to Sarah?' Hermione said as though she hadn't heard a word of what Harry had said.

'Castor's not gonna like that,' Ron said. 'You know, if he finds out.'

'He won't,' Harry assured them. 'He was talking to Longstreet.'

'Longstreet is here?' Ron asked looking around the room as if the southerner would walk in at any moment, like he had earlier that day.

'He already left, Ron,' Harry said. 'I overheard them talking.'

Harry quickly told Ron and Hermione what he had heard from the discussion between Longstreet and Castor. When he was done, Hermione looked shocked but Ron was grinning to himself.

'He banged Scrimgeour's secretary?'

'RON!' Hermione said scandalously.

Ron was still grinning a bit, even after Hermione swatted him on the arm.

'Damnit, Mione,' he said rubbing his shoulder though he was still smiling.

'Don't swear,' Hermione said again. 'The point is that Longstreet tailed us to make sure the Locket got back to Castor. It had nothing to do with Mundungus. Tasky has nothing to do with this either. Castor wanted us to find the Horcrux by ourselves, he was testing us. Well, he was testing Harry.'

'Yea,' Harry said. 'This means that Longstreet is gone now that the Horcrux is ours. It also means that Castor killed Mundungus for another reason.'

'Something that has to do with Sirius?' Hermione asked quietly.

Harry looked at her sharply then nodded.

'There's one to find out,' he said. 'You can leave tomorrow afternoon before dinner, get to the Ministry, and find the records. Make copies of them or whatever, and get back as fast as you can.'

'Wait a sec,' Ron said flummoxed. 'What's this we stuff? Why aren't you gonna go?'

Harry hesitated for a minute, then said, 'Castor is taking me to meet with a woman named Sonia Cobb. He told me that she might have a way to destroy the Horcruxes.'

'Did he say anything else?' Hermione asked slowly.

Harry shook his head.

'I thought the only way to destroy a Horcrux was with a Basilisk fang, the Draught of Life, and now, according to Sevagio, from the elixir of the Sorcerer's Stone?' Ron said.

'I don't think so,' Harry said.

'What do you mean?' Hermione said.

'I think that Castor was lying to Sevagio when you overheard them the other night,' Harry said looking at Hermione. 'I think that Castor knows of another way to destroy them, he just didn't tell Sevagio.'

'Why would he lie to him?' Hermione asked. 'They've known each other forever. If there's anyone Castor trusts, it's him. He trusted him in finding the cup of Hufflepuff in New York City.'

'I know,' Harry said, 'but why did Castor not mention to Sevagio he was taking me to meet this Sonia Cobb?'

'He might have told him, Harry,' Hermione said.

'Longstreet knows about her right?' Ron said. 'If Longstreet knows about it, Sevagio has to, considering Sevagio is closer to Castor than Longstreet is right?'

'That doesn't mean anything really, Ron,' Hermione interjected. 'Longstreet might know that Castor is going to this Cobb woman to destroy the Horcrux, but he wouldn't know how they'd be destroy, not to mention Longstreet doesn't know about the conversation between Castor and Sevagio.'

'And we have no idea the relationship between the two. I mean, they might not even know each other,' said Harry.

'Longstreet was here when he arrived remember?' Ron said. 'Sevagio was here too.'

'And so were the rest of the Order of the Phoenix,' Hermione said calmly. 'Sevagio isn't in it, and Longstreet came here for himself, not for anyone else.'

'The point is,' Harry said cutting them off, 'that Longstreet might have mentioned Cobb because he knows that Castor had a relationship with her, and that he was blackmailing him in order to get a higher price for the Locket.'

Ron and Hermione looked at each other then back at Harry.

'That means,' Ron said. 'That this Kate girl that Castor is seeing wouldn't be happy if he went to see this Sonia Cobb, right? Longstreet knows about whatever Sonia Cobb and Castor had going on, and he was going to use that to his advantage, and it has nothing to do with the means of destroying the Horcruxes, or even Castor's past.'

'It has to do with Castor's past, Ron,' Hermione said shrewdly, but she was looking at Ron impressed. 'What it means is that Longstreet may know about the Horcruxes, but he doesn't know about the spy in the Order, or that the fangs were removed, or Ivan Tasky, or the Elixir of Life, or anything that has to do with destroying them.'

'We can at least agree,' Harry said, 'that Longstreet didn't come here to help out. He came here to get money, and get out. He's not as close to Castor as we think, else he would've stayed, not blackmailed his friend and left.'

They sat in silence for a minute, and Harry noticed that Ron had taken Hermione's hand in his.

'While I'm with Castor,' Harry went on, 'you can get to the Ministry and find those files. Meantime, we gotta figure out a way to make sure Ginny doesn't know about this.'

'That won't be too hard,' Ron said. 'What with everyone here.'

'What do you mean?' Harry asked perplexed.

'Oh, I forgot to tell you,' Ron said. 'Mum and Dad are coming here for Christmas. Actually, everyone is. Bill and Fleur are coming too. Mum figured it would be easier on Hermione's parents if there was a big crowd here for Christmas, and not just us, them, and, well, Castor.'

'When did this happen?' Harry asked.

'Castor told us about it after you went upstairs, and after he killed, uh,' Ron finished shakily.

'Harry,' Hermione said nervously. 'What are you and Castor going to do tomorrow?'

'Today, Mione,' Ron said squeezing her hand. 'It's three in the morning.'

Hermione rolled her eyes but nudged him playfully.

'Like I said,' Harry looking at her, 'He and I are going to meet Sonia Cobb.'

'This is a big risk we're taking,' she said. 'What if something happens while we're there?'

'Bail,' Harry said flatly. 'Look, no one knows about this but us apart from Sarah and I trust her. If you can get to those files, great, but if not, get out before anybody gets suspicious. Here –'

Harry had pulled out his Auror badge and pressed it into Ron's hand. Ron looked down at it then back at Harry.

'If you have no other option,' Harry said to him looking into his best friend's eyes, 'use this. Say you're an Auror from the U.K. who needs the files for the Minister, or something, but that's a last resort option, got it?'

Ron nodded and stuffed the badge into his pocket.

'So the plan is,' Hermione said trying to sound composed, 'Harry and Professor Castor will meet with this Cobb woman about the Horcruxes. In the afternoon, when your family gets here Ron, you and I will slip out and floo to the Ministry of Magic in Washington D.C. Hopefully, Sarah will come through and her cousin will be there. What's his name anyways?'

'She didn't tell me,' Harry said gloomily. 'She said if he was going to help us, he'd find you.'

'And how are we suppose to slip out exactly?' Ron said. 'Mum and Dad will want to know where we went. Not to mention your parents Mione.'

Harry surmised the two of them then grinned.

'If that should happen,' he said. 'Tell them you and Hermione are going for a walk for some 'alone' time or something to that effect. They'll get the hint and leave you to yourselves.'

'HARRY!' Hermione said shocked.

'Nice one mate,' Ron said groaning running a hand through his hair in embarrassment.

'If you can think of a better idea, use it,' Harry said, but he was trying not to laugh.

Hermione let out a huff of indignation.

'So that's the plan isn't it?' Hermione said.

'Some plan,' Ron said, his face now in his hands. 'Can't believe I'm doing this.'

'Take my cloak,' Harry said. 'Just in case, right?'

Ron looked up and saw Hermione looking at him, a small smile on her lips. Ron took a deep breath and nodded.

'Yea,' he said. 'Just in case.'

With that, the three of them made their way upstairs to get a few hours of sleep. Harry wasn't the least bit surprised to find Ginny asleep in his bed. By this point, not even Castor was saying anything about him and Ginny sharing a bed together. Harry guessed that Castor meant what he said about the benefit of Harry having some attention from a girl, even if it was in the Professor's house. Harry was so overwhelmed with what had happened at Borgin's, with the death of Fletcher, the conversation with Sarah and the discussion he had heard between Longstreet and Castor that he drifted to sleep easily as Ginny slept quietly next to him. The last thing that passed through Harry's mind wasn't about him and Castor going to destroy the Horcruxes, or Longstreet ditching Castor in his hour of need, or even that it was in fact Christmas. What Harry thought about as he closed his eyes and turned on his side pulling Ginny closer to him was if Ron was lying next to Hermione at that moment, and if both of them felt as comfortable as he did.

It was nearing last call at The Black Rose, a decrepit tavern off Knockturn Alley. There was only one occupant seated at the bar, his dark brown eyes blurry from the numerous drinks he had guzzled in a daze. He heaved himself to look at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, his grizzled long brown hair hung over his face which was clouded in an unkempt beard and sallow expression. He finished off his drink in a gulp and slammed it down on the bar.

'Elmore!' he hollered drunkenly. 'Elmore, get me another one, I'm dying over here.'

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from beneath his dirty robes and managed to light one although knocking over his empty glass. A plum of smoke emitted from the end and he looked down at the fallen glass. He giggled.

'Elmore,' he said again. 'Goddamnit hurry up!'

'Hold on will ya,' croaked an aged bartender with yellow teeth and hollow eyes.

'Bout time,' the man said picking up his glass slowly and rocking unevenly in his chair.

The bartender uncorked a bottle of whiskey and poured another healthy measure into the man's glass, then moved back to the other end of the bar to finish polishing glasses. The man took his cigarette between his fingers and took a long swig. He heard a faint pop.

'Ummm,' he slurred placing the half empty glass on the table as he smacked his lips together. 'Somethin better you got for me to drink?'

He stupidly looked down the bar to where Elmore the bartender had been standing polishing snifters, but blinked a bit realizing he was no longer standing there.

'Where you go?' he stammered looking down the bar table and over it. His mind went into sober focus as he came into contact with the white eyes of the bartender, half leaning against the back of the bar, a dish towel in his hand and his entire front caked in blood. He kicked back into his chair and gasped in fear as he came into focus of his own reflection in the mirror.

Millimeters from his head was a gleaming pistol with a long silencer.

The man looked at the gun as his eyes slowly moved up the length of the mirror until he was looking into the face of Riley Sevagio, a cold and triumphant look on his face.

'Merrry Christmas Tasky,' the Auror said coldly. 'We need to talk.'