Title: The Perfect Wife
Author: slytherin-nette
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters you recognize from the HP books in this story. All I own is the plot. Everything else belongs to JK Rowling. She rocks.
Pairings: DM/femHP, RW/LrM, BZ/HG, SB/RV, BM/??, AM/?? and many others.
Warnings: This is a Post-Hogwarts story so it will be slightly more mature than TPG but equally insane. Wahaha. Also, this story contains PREGNANCY, RATED scenes and SLASH relationships.
A/N: Hmm. Will update Phoenix Tears first before I post the next chapter of this story. Sorry for the delay. A lot has really happened lately. Hope you enjoy this chapter! Don't hate me!
Chapter 14 – Rollercoaster
Harry couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped her lips as she watched Ron's entire face turn red with anger. She and her redheaded best friend were hanging out in a corner booth at a newly opened restaurant bar in Diagon Alley that evening and Ron had pretty much spent the last fifteen minutes berating his assistant over the phone about some apparent mix-up at work.
After about five more minutes of yelling and practically cursing his poor newly graduated assistant to hell, Ron finally flicked his phone back off and shoved it into his pocket in annoyance. Growling under his breath, he snatched the bottle of firewhiskey in front of him and took a long satisfying swig. Harry shook her head at his expression, her lips quirking into a small smirk.
"…Trouble at the office, mate?" She asked casually, taking a sip from her own bottle of firewhiskey as her eyes idly inspected the newly built surroundings of the restaurant around them. Ron answered her with another grunt and nodded, slamming his bottle of firewhiskey back down.
"Ugh. Let's not talk about work tonight anymore, Harry. I'm already too stressed out." He groaned, finally looking up and rewarding Harry with a small, otherwise friendly smile. "So what's up with you these days, anyway? I hardly get to see you around that much. Busy with training too?" He gave her a sympathetic smile to which Harry answered with a rueful grin and nod.
"Yeah...Sorry about that, mate. I've been swamped with so much work these days. You're training to be Head too, you should know all about that." She stopped at this and bit her lip, raising her bottle of firewhiskey to her lips again as she tried to think of the next words she was going to say.
"Say…Ron…Can I ask you something personal?" She looked up at him and gave him a slightly embarrassed look, causing Ron to blink and level her with a suspicious look. When he nodded hesitantly, she felt her cheeks heating up as she forced herself to speak. "You know…By personal, I mean…Pertaining to issues usually only known between a husband and his wife?" She would have continued but Ron suddenly cut her off, shaking his head furiously and giving her a disgusted glare.
"Harry…If you're going to start asking me advice about the weird, perverted stuff you and Malfoy do to each other in the bedroom, I'd rather not hear it. No offense." He answered bluntly, inciting an easy laugh from his best friend when she heard the genuinely disturbed disgust on his face.
Thinking more about his words, however, Harry's laughter immediately faded and in its place was an uncertain grimace. "That's…Just it, Ron. Is it normal for a married couple our age to…Well…You know…to NOT have sex for a certain period time?"
Ron narrowed his eyes at her and gave her another suspicious look. "How long exactly a period are we talking about here, Harry…?
She winced and managed a slightly sheepish smile when she answered. "Not long… Just…About two months—" Ron began choking on his drink in shock, cutting off the rest of Harry's response. Flushing in embarrassment, she reached over and handed Ron a glass of water, waiting until the redhead's coughing had subsided before she said anything else.
When Ron finally set the half-empty glass of water back down, he looked back and gaped at her as though she was the most ignorant person on the planet. "Harry, you were a man once. YOU should know, above all other women, that there is NO such thing as a man not wanting to have sex with his wife as often as possible—" He paused briefly, watching as Jaimee sighed and nodded ruefully.
"I know…I know that, Ron. I just—"
"—unless he was GAY. In your case, I should hope NOT because then that would be the most ironic thing in the world. I mean…You are a woman now partially thanks to Malfoy." Ron added as an afterthought, causing Jaimee to laugh again and roll her eyes at her best friend's antics.
"I know…You're right. I'm just…I'm a little worried about my marriage lately. We've both just been so busy these last few months and we have the twins so—"
"Well, well, well…Look what the cat dragged in."
Harry stopped immediately at the sound of the familiar voice. Both she and Ron looked up, blinking in surprise at the sound of the nearby entrance doors to the restaurant sliding open. They found themselves staring in stunned realization at the familiar, widely grinning faces of Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas – both of which had stopped and were standing beside their booth.
At the sight of their former Gryffindor housemates, Harry and Ron began laughing and jumped up excitedly from their seats, nearly tripping over each other in their haste to greet the two men.
"Seamus! Dean! Bloody hell, you two! What are you both doing here?! We haven't seen you two since graduation!" Ron burst out into a friendly laugh, exchanging handshakes and light punches to the shoulder with Seamus and Dean before stepping back and allowing Harry to do the same.
"Yeah! You two haven't written at all or kept in touch after Hogwarts. We didn't know where to find you." Harry agreed and once she and Dean had exchanged a brief hug, all four former Gryffindors settled themselves back into the booth and began to talk loudly amongst themselves to catch up.
Seamus grinned at them and slung an arm around Dean's shoulders, giving Ron and Harry an apologetic grimace. "Sorry, you guys….Dean and I kind of spent the last couple of years away from the Wizarding World for awhile." He told them, causing Harry and Ron to look at them in surprise.
Dean nodded ruefully and offered another friendly smile. "I introduced Seamus to my parents and family after graduation. After we got married, we've been kind of inactive from magic and spent the last couple of years living with muggles. It was fun but after awhile, we decided to come back. We missed everyone." He winked after this, causing Harry to laugh and Ron to roll his eyes at them.
"Marriage huh? How have you guys been? You didn't exactly invite any of us to the wedding." Harry told them, feigning a glare. Seamus answered her with another apologetic smile and shook his head. "It was just a small ceremony, Harry… Just family. We've been married for—" He showed them the wedding band on his ring finger. "—About 3 years now I suppose. Life is good."
Jaimee smiled at this and nodded in understanding while Ron turned back to Dean and raised a curious eyebrow. "So what are you two doing here? Were you two out shopping for something?" He asked, raising his hand and indicating to a nearby waitress to bring them more bottles of firewhiskey.
Dean smiled secretively to himself and shrugged, indicating nonchalantly to their artistically decorated surroundings. "Actually…I OWN this joint, Ron—"
Ron's eyes widened and he accidentally began choking on his drink but Dean continued. "—I just had it opened about a week ago. It was a real success; I had it patterned after a bar-themed restaurant in the muggle world." He told them, causing Jaimee to look at him in appraisal.
Seamus smiled proudly as Dean said this and nodded, indicating cheerfully to their surroundings. "He came up with the idea last year and he wouldn't stop talking about it since then. It's been a real hit so far…It was actually featured in one of Witch Weekly's articles." He told them, earning more surprised grins from both Ron and Harry as they listened to him.
Ron took another sip of his drink and shook his head in amazement.
"Bloody hell…And to think Harry and I just came in here because one of my coworkers suggested it had great drinks." Dean grinned at them again at the compliment. "One question though…Why'd you name it The Common Room? Any references there?" Ron asked jokingly as he continued, much to Dean's amusement as he grinned wider and nodded in acknowledgment.
"The idea just kind of hit me. I thought of all those times we Gryffindors would drink the night away in the common room back at Hogwarts. I loved those times." He answered with a noncommittal shrug, causing Harry and Ron to grin at him in agreement as they recalled the fond memory.
"Actually…If you're both interested, we'll be having a lot of promotional parties this entire month. You two should drop by if you have time." Seamus suddenly cut in, signaling to one of the nearby waitresses again to bring them another fresh round of drinks. Dean opened his mouth to continue for him but Seamus plowed on, his eyes glowing brightly with excitement.
"There's actually one going to be held tomorrow, we'll be having a lot of our old Hogwartian friends over. You two should come, it would really mean a lot to us. Invite Hermione and Ginny for us too if you see them!" He chirped, his eagerness causing his husband to roll his eyes and make a face at him. Harry laughed at Dean's reaction while Ron just smirked, shaking his head at their antics.
"Well…I don't know…I do kind of have a lot of work to do this weekend—" Ron was cut off abruptly when Seamus spoke again, turning to Ron and giving him a conspiratorial grin and wink.
"The party has an open bar. Free drinks all night, Ron." He offered and he didn't have to wait long before Ron instantly grinned back and shrugged, the reluctance on his face disappearing at once.
"Ah, what the hell…Too much work is a bad thing. Right, Harry?" He nudged Jaimee beside him, causing the Malfoy Mistress to roll her eyes but otherwise chuckle at his reaction. "I should have known it'd be easy to bribe you with free drinks, Ron. You tosser." She stuck her tongue out at him, pointedly choosing to ignore the way Seamus and Dean were laughing at Ron's reaction.
Dean turned to her after this, giving her an imploring grin. "Will you come too, Harry? Drag your husband along. You too Ron, bring Lorraine. I'm sure having any Malfoys at your promotional parties is sure to attract more media attention and bring good reviews." He winked at them but before either had a chance to react; Seamus butted in again and gave Harry a meaningful wink.
"Yeah! Definitely bring Draco, Harry! I have a lot of gay friends coming over who'd love to—"
"Don't even think about it, Seamus. I'll castrate you." Harry warned dangerously, ignoring the snort of laughter that erupted from Ron beside her. Dean just rolled his eyes nudged his husband sharply to keep quiet, causing Seamus to pout to himself and feign a disappointed look.
"You're no fun, Harry."
Rolling their eyes, the other three ignored him and turned to talk to each other again. Dean gave them both another encouraging smile and raised a glass of tequila to his lips. "I haven't talked to Neville at all recently either but if either of you two see him, will you please invite him to tomorrow night's party too? I'd love to see him and Luna again." He added but the minute the words had left his lips, Harry and Ron's smiles disappeared and they exchanged grim expressions.
The other two former Gryffindors sensed this immediately and frowned, their eyebrows creasing together in alarm. "What? What's wrong?" Seamus asked suspiciously, training his eyes on Harry's dark expression as he waited for her to answer him. Harry met Ron's eyes again before she sighed and turned back to meet Seamus and Dean's worried faces, biting her lip in hesitation.
"Guys…Neville won't be able to come tomorrow. Nor will Luna, I think." At Dean's confused expression, she forced herself to continue. "Actually…Since you two were gone for a pretty long time in the Wizarding World, there's a lot that's been going on that you two should know." Both men nodded patiently for her to continue, their attention focused intently on her serious expression.
After a moment's pause, she took a deep breath and began to explain to them everything that had happened so far – including the magical plague's latest pureblooded victims and the families that have been affected with the disease. For several minutes, Seamus just blinked repeatedly in shock while Dean stared, unable to believe the news he had just heard about Neville's condition.
When Harry finished and they snapped out of their shock, it was Seamus who spoke first and he directed his question to Ron this time. "So how is he…? Neville, I mean…We would have gone to visit him sooner in St. Mungo's had we heard about it. Is Luna alright?" He asked worriedly but Ron sighed and shook his head, trying to drown out his frustration with another sip of his firewhiskey.
"He just went into comatose this afternoon. From what Hermione just told me, Luna's been a complete wreck. I can't really blame her. Her father has been taking care of Daniel while she stays in the hospital to take care of Neville…Basically; all pureblooded families now are taking precautions against the disease." He told them, bringing an even darker aura of anxiety over their table.
The four former Gryffindors all fell into an uneasy silence after that – all of which drinking from their drinks to keep themselves from having to say anything else. After another long moment of avoiding each other's eyes, Harry finally couldn't take it anymore and looked up at Seamus across the table, trying to alleviate the growing tension by offering the Irish man a weak smile.
"So…Seamus….Now that we're updated with Dean's new business venture, what have you been doing these last few years?" She asked in a forced cheerful tone and though her friends saw through her ploy, Seamus responded anyway – eager for an opportunity to talk about something else.
He grinned widely at her and winked, chuckling to himself when he noticed Dean rolling his eyes again in anticipation beside him. "Funny you should ask, Harry…Have you by any chance noticed the newly bought shop next door? It has an adjoining entrance from the side of this bar." He told her but Ron and Harry just stared back blankly at him in confusion, shrugging in indifference.
"Yeah…So? What about it? I heard the old boutique beside this place shut down and they're building some new establishment." Ron supplied for him and at his words, Seamus feigned a dramatic sigh and shook his head at his ignorance. Harry just looked curiously at him, waiting for him to explain.
With a mischievous grin, Seamus slammed both his palms down onto the table and exclaimed.
"That store's mine, you guys! I just bought the place last week! I'm putting up a new shop there within the next couple of days. It's for the new line of wizard/witch designer clothing I've been working on. Really A-class, stylishly designed material for people who want to look snazzier and sharp." He winked at them after he said all this but at this point, Harry and Ron just turned to look at each other and pointedly rolled their eyes in a mixture of exasperation and helpless amusement.
Ron shook his head and turned to look back at Seamus, meeting Dean's smirk of agreement across the table. Harry turned back to Seamus and rewarded him with a teasing smile.
"GAY, Seamus…That is just so…so…GAY."
Ron and Dean let out a round of laughter when Seamus just stuck his tongue at her in response – to which Harry was only happy to oblige by sticking hers out in retaliation. Seamus pretended to give her a flirtatious smile as she did this, winking suggestively at her shocked reaction.
"Don't stick that out at me unless you plan to use it, Harry."
Only Ron sniggered this time while Dean just scowled and elbowed Seamus sharply in the ribs, causing his Irish husband to laugh at his reaction AND the horrified expression on Harry's face at his quip. The Malfoy Mistress glared at him, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head at his antics.
"You're still a perverted prick aren't you, Seamus?" She drawled with a resigned sigh and at this, Dean chuckled and answered her with an equally resigned shake of his head. "You have NO idea, Harry." He kidded and this time, HE was the recipient of a sharp nudge from his irked husband.
Ron rolled his eyes and turned back to Dean, giving him a grin and a nod.
"In any case…I suppose I may be able to drop by tomorrow just for a short while. Lorraine doesn't really like staying out too late these days because she's always worried about Chessie." He paused and turned to Seamus, his eyebrows fusing together in thought. "In fact… I suggest you show some of that new clothing line of yours to Lorraine, Seamus…That infuriating woman can shop like there's no bloody tomorrow." He grumbled, causing all three of his friends to laugh again.
Dean nodded at him before turning to Harry and raising an eyebrow in query but she just fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat and flicked her gaze over to her wristwatch to check the date. "What about you, Harry? Will you and Malfoy be able to make it? It would really mean a lot to us if you could go." Dean pretended to pout at her, causing her to roll her eyes and sigh in defeat.
"I suppose so…But only for a short while too, Dean. Draco doesn't really like leaving the twins with their nanny for too long. Quite frankly, he doesn't trust anyone with them. Not even me." She explained and upon hearing her words, Seamus and Dean's eyebrows both shot up in surprise. They blinked and turned to give her a surprised look, their eyes flicking to her flat stomach in wonder.
"Oh yeah…I forgot that you two have children now. Good Merlin, kind of makes me want to have kids of my own…What do you say, darling?" Seamus winked suggestively at his husband again but Dean just stared back pointedly at him, raising an eyebrow in obvious sarcastic disinterest.
"And just how in Merlin's name do you propose we do THAT, Seamus Finnegan? Some magical form of conception? Or perhaps you're willing to take in a Cirisserum potion like Harry did here and permanently be the woman in this relationship like you are already?" He deadpanned, causing Harry and Ron to laugh again when Seamus just pouted and shook his head indignantly at him in refusal.
"No way! I like being a bisexual man. It's so much more fun."
The other three ignored his antics and pointedly turned back to talk to each other instead. Ron was just about to ask Dean another question about his new restaurant when out of nowhere, Harry's muggle cellular phone suddenly began beeping incessantly from her robe pockets – momentarily distracting their attention and causing all three of her friends to turn to her in surprise.
Harry cringed and gave them a sheepish smile, holding up a finger to excuse herself from them. She shot up from her seat and hastily settled herself into the far corner of the restaurant for some privacy. Snatching her phone out of her pocket, it took her a single glance at the screen to realize who was calling before she sighed again and flicked the phone on, holding it up to her ear.
"Nicholas…What do you want now? I already told Ashford that I'd be back in the office in an hour or so. If this isn't really that important, can you wait until I get back—" She stopped when she heard his panicked voice ranting on the other line, obviously indicating that something had happened.
Holding her hand briefly over the mouthpiece, she looked up once to make sure Ron, Dean and Seamus were still locked intently in their light conversation across the restaurant before she spoke up again, her voice turning grim and the irritation in her eyes giving way to suspicion.
"Nicholas…What's wrong?! What's happened? Slow down, I can't understand a word you're saying. What? Yes, I know Ashford's in St. Mungo's, he's conducting all his investigations there! What do you mean Byron is there with him? Wasn't Byron supposed to be conducting his own separate investigation in Italy today? What?! No—wait! Slow down, Ambleton! I can't understand you, damn it!"
Harry growled, ignoring the curious stares she was receiving from some of the other customers in the restaurants when they heard the anger and impatience in her voice. Holding the phone tighter against her ear, she bent her head down lower and covered her other ear with her free hand, straining to hear Nicholas' rushed words over the lively music.
"What?! I'll be back in an hour! Why do I have to go to St. Mungo's now? Huh? Just tell me! What the bloody hell is happening—"
Harry froze and paled in shock upon hearing Nicholas' next words, suddenly understanding exactly what had sent the other Unspeakable into such a state of open panic like that.
Painfully swallowing the forming lump in her throat, Harry felt all the blood draining out of her face as she took a deep shaky breath and leaned back against the wall behind her – her fingers gripping her cellphone so tightly that she felt the beginnings of sweat rising up from her palms.
"O—oh…I—I…I see…Since when? When did it happen?" She paused and waited for Nicholas to answer her, nodding more to herself than him in understanding even though she knew Nicholas couldn't see her. "J—just tonight…? A—an hour ago…? O—okay…I u—understand…I—I know…I'll get over there right away. O—okay…I—I'll meet you there in ten minutes. V—very well. Thank you."
Her hands were still shaking as she pulled the receiver away from her ear and flicked her phone back off, shoving it weakly back into her robe pockets. Her face noticeably paler than awhile ago and her heart pounding rapidly in her chest in a mixture of growing fear and anxiety, she forced her way back over to where her friends were seated and stood over the table in uneasy silence.
It took the other former Gryffindors several more seconds to acknowledge her presence. Once they saw her, they immediately noticed the sudden ashen color of her cheeks and the way her eyes were dazed as though in shock. Ron stood up hastily in suspicion, his eyes clouding over in concern.
"Harry…Mate, what's wrong? You don't look so good… You look like you've seen a ghost." He spoke worriedly, reaching over and handing her a glass of water. Dean and Seamus also stood up and flicked worried gazes over to her, their eyebrows fusing together when they saw her facial expression.
"Who was on the phone…?" When she didn't answer him again, Ron forced himself to speak louder – finally snapping Harry out of her self-induced stupor and causing her to blink and stare at him as though he was a complete stranger. "Harry…? I asked….Who was on the phone? Everything okay?"
Finally – after what seemed like several minutes of her gaping and staring at them in stupefied silence – Harry somehow found the strength to speak, her voice coming out in dry, raspy whisper.
"G—Guys…I'm really sorry…But I have to go…" They all made a move to protest when she said this but Harry shook her head firmly at them, her voice cracking as she spoke. "Th—that was our Head Officer, Nicholas Ambleton on the phone…H—he…I—I never would have believed it but he said—"
Ron simply stared tensely at her, waiting for her to continue while Dean and Seamus exchanged confused looks, obviously not understanding clearly what she was trying to say. Harry went on anyway, her eyes suddenly glazing over as she tried to make herself believe her own words.
"—H—he said…Ashford was taken into St. Mungo's ten minutes ago. He…Caught the disease."
"What the bloody hell are YOU doing here?!"
In spite of himself, Byron couldn't prevent the mocking tone of his voice as he rushed into Vincent's hospital room that same night– stopping in shock just by the entrance and staring spitefully into the handsome, sneering face of Severus Snape. The Potions Master had looked up from the potion vials he held in his hand and answered Byron's rude greeting with a raised eyebrow.
"That is hardly a proper greeting from a wizard of your stature, Byron…I believe I have just as much a right to be here as you do. Vincent happens to be a good friend of mine." He drawled calmly, smirking as he set the vials he held back down and sat down on the chair to the right of Vincent's bed.
Byron sneered at the other man's words but didn't bother saying anything else, walking stiffly over to the chair on Vincent's opposite side and carefully seating himself in tense silence. He ignored Severus' presence altogether and turned to face Vincent's unconscious form instead, instantly feeling all the blood draining out of his cheeks when he was met with the Head Unspeakable's unmoving form.
Vincent's tanned handsome face had turned completely pale from apparent loss of blood and his normally perfectly styled black hair now lay disheveled over his forehead – limp back strands falling into his closed eyes and over his slightly furrowed eyebrows. His lean frame looked somewhat weak and frail along the large hospital bed he was laid out on and though several sheets of white blankets had been pulled tightly over his form, his entire body still shook occasionally with shivers.
A large glass bottle of what appeared to be clear blue potion floated several feet above his unconscious form and from this, Byron could make out what looked like a very thin plastic tube attached to it – one end of which was connected to the floating blue potion bottle and the other end inserted into the vein just several inches below Vincent's left wrist.
It was this device that Severus was currently very much preoccupied with and in spite of his hatred for the man, Byron's curiosity got the better of him and he spoke up again, drawing Severus attention back to his confused expression. "What are you doing? What is that thing that you're attaching to him?" He demanded, his eyes narrowing at the other man in question.
Severus raised an eyebrow at him again and answered him with a small smirk, shaking his head at the younger man's ignorance. Gesturing to the floating blue potion bottle hovering above Vincent's form, he paused and gave Byron a pointed look. "That blue potion you see right there…? I'm afraid that's the only thing right now that's keeping Vincent alive lest this disease drain his blood of all magic completely." Byron looked worried at this but Severus continued, ignoring his reaction.
"You see…It's MY responsibility in this hospital right now to keep making as much of this vitality potion as possible so that none of the confined purebloods in here die of magical drainage. As you can see…Since Vincent seemed to have gone into comatose immediately, I'm trying to make some more vitality potion right now to keep him alive. Still want me to leave, Byron?" He looked up and sneered when he saw the humiliated expression on Byron's face, obviously enjoying his discomfort.
When the younger man couldn't seem to find anything else to say in response to this, Severus chuckled again and turned back to the supply of ingredients he had placed on the table beside Vincent's bed – expertly bustling over several more vials and ignoring Byron's presence altogether.
After several more minutes of watching him do this, Byron finally cleared his throat and spoke up again – his voice coming out hoarse and gruff. "How long have you been staying here and doing this? Have any of the victims died so far…?" He asked stiffly, watching as Severus answered him by shaking his head, his attention still clearly focused on the potion he was trying to make.
"None as of the moment…But then again, I won't be able to brew these potions forever to keep them all alive. Pretty soon, this disease will grow at such an alarming rate that I won't be able to keep up with it. A suitable cure must be found…And fast." He answered calmly and just as he finished speaking, he had also finished a fresh batch of potion – holding the new batch of clear blue liquid in his hand and pouring it into the half-empty container floating above Vincent's form.
The minute he had done this, he finally looked up and addressed Byron one last time with a final smirk and nod, gathering his potion materials carefully from the desk. He didn't say anything as he stood up and began to walk out the door, stopping only just near the exit when Byron addressed him again. The metamorphagus' words were laced with a hint of mockery and accusatory anger.
"You hardly have ANY right to act all high and mighty with what you're doing right now for him, Snape. Since it was pretty much YOUR fault that Vincent probably got into such a mess in the first place." He snapped back pointedly and he didn't have to wait long before Severus turned around and glared at him, his eyes narrowing and confusion etched clearly onto his sharp features.
"Excuse me…? My fault?!"
Byron felt a surge of anger rising from the pit of his stomach. "You HEARD me. This is all probably YOUR fault, Severus. As if you didn't know…Vincent hasn't been the same person since the day he got out of that bad relationship with you. You're nothing but a heartless, selfish bastard." He hissed spitefully, his brown eyes suddenly morphing into an eerie red from his growing anger.
Severus, however, didn't look amused by his words and merely scoffed at him, shaking his head at the younger man's words. "MY fault? I'm afraid you need to get your facts right, Mister Malfoy…It seems you don't even know what you're accusing me of." He retorted easily, watching in growing confusion as Byron's eyes flashed again and he had to fight to keep himself from shouting.
"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."
"I really DON'T, Byron…What do you mean?" Severus answered back bluntly, obviously getting bored with the conversation altogether. His voice was beginning to drip with disdain and growing dissatisfaction and he raised an eyebrow again. He was just about to turn around when Byron spoke up again, this time his voice raising several levels in barely restrained anger and frustration.
"Just get out of here, Snape! You dumped Vincent 2 years ago like some kind of used toy. You've finished that stupid potion; you have no more business being here. Just leave!" He snapped coldly. To his utter surprise, instead of shouting right back at him as Byron expected him to do, Severus just laughed again and looked at him as though he was the dumbest person alive.
"Do you even know what you're talking about, Byron? You have no idea what you're saying…I never broke up with Vincent those two years ago. That stupid bastard broke up with ME."
"…What?!"
Byron blinked and stared intently at him in confusion for several minutes, obviously unable to process the words he had just heard. Severus just stared right back him with a smirk on his face, his dark black eyes gleaming in amusement when he saw the genuine surprise in Byron's brown orbs.
Chuckling underneath his breath, Severus gathered the last of his potion ingredients into his hands from the nearby bed table, pausing carefully to replace the lid over one of his potion bottles. As soon as he had done this, he glanced back up and rewarded Byron with an amused, roguish grin.
"HE broke up with ME, Byron…Or were you not aware of this piece of information before you started accusing me like this?" He drawled, noting the way Byron's cheeks were beginning to color in humiliation. The younger man continued to stare at him, his jaw opening and closing like a gaping fish.
"I—I don't believe you…Why would he—"
Severus interrupted him again, shrugging himself back into his cloak as he spoke. "I told him that I'd be okay with a serious relationship…He broke it off with me. It's as simple as that."
Byron scoffed again and managed to blink himself out of his shock. "That's RUBBISH! I overheard you two! HE was the one who wanted a serious relationship but YOU were the one sleeping around behind his back. Who are you trying to fool?!" He hissed, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.
Severus didn't answer him and began to walk out of the room – his arms laden with his potion bottles and ingredients. Just as he was reaching for the door, Byron addressed him one last time.
"Ashford said—"
Severus whirled around and practically snarled at the younger man in exasperation.
"What Vincent Ashford SAYS and what Vincent Ashford DOES are two very different things, Byron! He kept saying he wanted a serious relationship?! Well he was never AROUND to pursue it! He ran like hell when I suggested that we get more serious! It was pitiful really." He scoffed and shook his head in disgust, his coal-like eyes gleaming in obvious disdain.
Byron opened his mouth to say something again but Severus just gave him one last, condescending sneer. "He's a selfish bastard, Mister Malfoy…And that is saying something coming from ME. You'd do so much better off with someone else your own age. Believe me." Before the young Malfoy son could attempt to defend himself, Severus had turned around again and stalked out of the room – slamming the doors noisily behind him and leaving Byron alone to his own musings.
For a long time, Byron sat there and stared after the closed door in perplexed silence – his eyebrows fused together in thought and his facial expression darkened in contempt. He turned his head and stared intently into Vincent's pale, handsome face beside him – studying the older man's features in close scrutiny as he tried to ponder on the meaning behind Snape's words
This was the grim expression on his young face when the doors to the private hospital room opened again about fifteen minutes later. Byron looked up in surprise, blinking at the sight of a cloaked, dark-haired elderly wizard entering the room, a silver cane clasped tightly in his left hand.
He didn't seem to notice Byron's presence with him as he walked in, settling himself uneasily onto the seat beside Vincent's bed. Upon closer inspection of his face, Byron noticed that the man's face held a rather uncanny resemblance to Vincent's own handsome features – from the finely chiseled jaw and eyebrows, all the way to his aristocratic cheekbones and bright blue eyes.
The man looks like Vincent…I wonder if he's Vincent's father.
The man noticed his staring and snapped his attention to him, his cold blue eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. When Byron wasn't able to think of anything to say to him in greeting; the elderly man spoke up first – his voice coming out deep and very similar to Vincent's own drawling tone.
"If I may ask…Are you…Are you Vincent's…lover…?"
In spite of himself, the corner of Byron's lips quirked upwards into a weak smirk as he answered – shrugging weakly to himself in helpless amusement.
"Well…Unfortunately… I hardly think I can call myself that yet, sir... I assume you're…Vincent's father?" He asked, watching carefully as the man nodded at him and managed a forced but cordial smile. "I am Jonathan Amos Ashford…Current Head of the Ashford family and father to Vincent. I expect you are…A Malfoy son?" He gestured briefly to the Malfoy insignia ring on Byron's left hand.
The metamorphagus blinked at the recognition in surprise before managing another weak laugh and nodding his assent. "My name is Byron. Third son of the Malfoy family. It's a pleasure to meet you sir." He drawled automatically in response and to this, Jonathan nodded stiffly – sparing a single glance at him before turning back to stare intently into his son's ashen, sickly figure on the bed.
Vincent hadn't moved a single inch since Byron had entered the hospital room but looked slightly better off from the potion Severus had given him, his face slowly regaining some of the color in his cheeks. Jonathan stared silently at him for several minutes, his blue eyes fixated on Vincent's younger face and watching the way his son's chest was rising weakly with each breath he took.
Neither Jonathan nor Byron did anything else within those next moments and just when it looked like Byron was going to try to say something else, Jonathan surprised him by suddenly rising up from his seat and turning to leave the room. At this, Byron's golden brown eyes instantly narrowed in anger and he felt his face heat up, a hiss of accusatory anger suddenly escaping his lips.
"That's IT?! Aren't you going to do anything? SAY anything? He's your SON and he almost died, damn it!" He snapped out loud, surprising the older man when he heard the scathing tone of his voice.
Jonathan turned and stared blankly at him for a long time, inspecting the look on his younger features with a hint of uncertainty in his. Byron opened his mouth to snap something out at him again but Jonathan beat him to it and shrugged, settling himself back down hesitantly into his seat.
"I haven't talked to my Vincent in YEARS…What am I supposed to say to him now—"
"I don't know…ANYTHING! He's your SON, goddamn it! You're his FATHER! You're supposed to know the right thing to say or do! It's your responsibility!"
Jonathan smirked back calmly at him, arching an aristocratic eyebrow in amusement.
"Forgive me. I was never a man who was good at expressing his emotions."
Byron scoffed at his words and shook his head in resentment. "Evidently not… I can't say I'm really all that surprised, Master Ashford…Your son isn't much for expressing his emotions either." He drawled back and at this, Jonathan finally managed a weak smile and nodded at him in agreement.
"So I've heard. Most people I know tell me that Vincent can pretty much be as stubborn as I am these days. Perhaps so more." He spoke softly, the smallest hint of fondness suddenly lighting up his cold blue eyes. Byron watched in surprise as Jonathan looked up and gave him another forced, small smile, his blue eyes flicking back over to rest on his son's unconscious form beside him.
"He was always such a difficult child to understand you know…My Vincent… Even then…He was never good with showing his emotions to anybody." He continued, his eyes suddenly beginning to trail off in deep thought. "When he was only five years old…I bought him a puppy. A golden retriever…It meant the absolute world to him. I could tell. Even when he himself didn't seem to realize it." He chuckled under his breath, looking back up and meeting Byron's golden brown eyes across the room.
"That blasted dog followed him everywhere and trailed after him like a bloody shadow. Sometimes, even Vincent got annoyed with it and kicked it away when he was mad. It always came back to him though…I suppose that animal grew to love him anyway." He paused briefly at this and turned back to look at Vincent's face, reaching over and pulling the blankets up to his son's chin.
Byron watched this action in silence, unable to hide the softening of his eyes when he saw the genuine fatherly affection hidden in Jonathan's blue eyes. When the older man looked back up at him, the small smile on his face was gone and was replaced with another grim, emotionless expression.
"Then one day…The dog just…Disappeared. We weren't entirely sure of what happened to it…Whether it ran away or got hurt somewhere…I don't know. But Vincent was…He was devastated." He paused and quirked the corner of his lips into a wry smirk. "He spent about two weeks searching all over the neighborhood for that dog…He cried like a baby for about another week after that. He was about seven years old then." He finished, reaching a hand out again to stroke Vincent's forehead.
Byron continued to remain completely silent, unsure of what to say to him or if it was appropriate to say anything in the first place. Jonathan didn't seem to mind his silence and continued to speak anyway, his voice dropping into such a low whisper that Byron had to strain to hear him.
"He never showed it…Perhaps because he never realized it… But despite all those times he kicked and abused that poor animal, it meant the absolute world to him. Sometimes… When it comes to dealing with my son, the best way for him to learn the value of something is for him to realize the pain that comes when it's no longer there. Selfish as it may seem…That's just the way he's always been." Jonathan finished his sentence with an exhausted, heavy sigh and shook his head in defeat.
He didn't bother waiting for Byron to say anything and forced himself back onto his feet, setting his cane back down onto the floor. Just as he had nodded his farewell and was about to walk out the door, Byron finally looked back up at him and addressed him for the first time in a soft whisper.
"Master Ashford…Do you love your son…?"
The elderly man stopped immediately in his tracks and turned around to face him, his dark eyebrows suddenly coming together into an expression of belated surprise at the unexpected question. When he didn't seem capable of saying anything to him for the next few moments, Byron stood up and faced him directly; shoving his clammy hands into the pockets of his Unspeakable robes.
"Your son…Vincent…Do you love him…?"
Jonathan stared back blankly at him, his blue eyes frozen in an expression of uncertainty and deep regret. They stared at each other's face for a very long time – both men unwilling to move or do anything else for fear of the other's reaction. Finally, after a long, tense moment of awkward silence, Jonathan finally blinked and managed a throaty laugh, his voice coming out raspy as he answered.
"Would I have come here…If I didn't…?"
In spite of himself, Byron didn't say anything else after this and merely nodded in understanding, watching as Jonathan made to turn around again to exit the large room. Just as he had touched the doorknob, he paused briefly and turned around to give Byron one last look.
"I'll be back around the same time tomorrow…Should my son wake up when I'm not here…IF he ever wakes back up that is…" He voice shook at his last sentence but he didn't give Byron a chance to answer him and continued, meeting the younger man's expression with a grim, otherwise firm nod.
"Please tell him that…He's welcome back home…And that any time he wants to come back… I'll be waiting for him. Also…Please let him know that he's always been welcome at home…No matter who he is or who he decides to be." He ended his sentence at these words and tightened his hand on his cane, turning around so Byron couldn't see the emotions written all over his elderly face.
Once again, all Byron could do was nod back silently and answer him in a firm voice.
"Understood…I—if I may ask…Master Ashford…What was the name of Vincent's dog? You know…The one that never came back home?" He voice shook slightly as he asked this but he easily held his emotions back from his face, looking away from the other man's intensely blue eyes.
Jonathan looked genuinely surprised when he had asked this, blinking several times as though trying to fully understand the implication of Byron's words. As soon as he did, however, he couldn't prevent a smirk from lighting up his face and nodded to the Malfoy son in unspoken understanding.
"Shadow…"
Jonathan gave him one last nod of farewell before he finally turned and exited the room, his light footsteps echoing softly along the corridors. Eventually, the hospital doors closed again – leaving Byron alone with his thoughts in the deafening, comforting silence of Vincent's private hospital room.
"WILL YOU ALL JUST CALM DOWN, DAMN IT?!"
Harry clenched her jaw in growing frustration as she eyed the frantic, worried gazes of all the Unspeakable Agents gathered around her – all of which were talking in rushed murmurs at the same time about Ashford's unexpected condition and asking her numerous questions about her next orders.
Around them, more and more Wizard Healers continued bustling back and forth from hospital room to hospital room in their haste to cater to all their patients. Richard Wickham was amongst them and had rushed into Vincent's room, currently tending carefully to the Head Unspeakable's condition.
As several more Unspeakable Agents apparated into the St. Mungo's lobby, Harry finally let out a breath of exhaustion and pinched the bridge of her nose – taking several steps backward and collapsing onto one of the nearby waiting chairs. As expected, the rest of the Unspeakables gathered around her again and Nicholas sat down beside her, holding up a number of folders to her face.
"Potter…The Minister will be arriving here shortly to speak with us about our next prerogatives. Also, the CISO department wants a full comprehensive report on what we've discovered so far about the plague. Kingsley will be arriving shortly with the Aurors too…" He told her and if anything, his words only caused Harry's head to hurt more as she nodded and buried her face into her hands.
"A—alright…Go talk to them…L—let me just think for a minute—"
Nicholas cut her off sharply and shook his head, giving her a pointed glare. "YOU have to be the one to talk to them, Harry. With Ashford in his current condition, the responsibility of leadership is temporarily displaced first to – if applicable – the present Head Unspeakable Trainee. You should know that by now, it's written in the code of guidelines." He told her sternly, causing her to groan loudly.
"What? But—"
Spencer suddenly spoke up, shoving his hands into his pockets and giving her a consoling smile. "He's right, Harry…With Ashford in his state right now, you have to assume temporary leadership of the department. We can't just continue on his last orders given the present state of things, we need a new plan of action and strategy regarding this whole matter." He explained and his words were met with several nods of agreement from the other Unspeakables around them.
Harry looked up at them with defeated, weary eyes – her gaze flicking from one expectant Unspeakable agent's face to another in growing desperation. When not one of them seemed to disagree with Nicholas and Spencer's words, she finally sighed and covered her face with her hands again – closing her eyes and taking a deep breath in an effort to calm herself.
When she looked back up, she managed to nod weakly and reached out for the thick, offered folder in Nicholas' hands. "V—very well…I will assume leadership temporarily until Ashford is back up on his feet. But please keep in mind that I am not a fully trained Head Unspeakable yet and that I am completely unprepared for this responsibility so please bear with me and help me through this."
Not one of them seemed to hear her and began to speak out all at once after she had said this, their voices intermingling with one another into a loud garble that earned them several glares from the passing Healers walking around the hospital. Massaging her temples again, Harry held up a hand to silence their rambling. She waited until they stopped talking before she nodded again and pointed to the nearby female Unspeakable agent who was standing across from her.
"One at a time please…Tracey, go ahead. I want to hear what happened tonight. Where was Ashford and what exactly was he doing before he collapsed?"
The brunette Unspeakable she had addressed nodded at her before she answered.
"I spoke with the secretaries working up in the CISO department thirty minutes ago. They said that Ashford had spent a good deal of his time up in the archives and libraries since this morning. They weren't exactly sure of what he was looking for though...He looked rather serious." She explained and before Harry could ask anything else, the male Unspeakable beside her also spoke up.
"I saw him this morning too. He was going back and forth from his office to the CISO department and every now and then, he would mutter something under his breath as if in thought. Something about infusions." Harry nodded at him in gratitude and understanding after he said this.
Fusing her eyebrows together, she flicked open the folder Nicholas had handed to her and began to browse through Ashford's medical status reports. Spencer spoke up after about a couple of seconds, his voice breaking through Harry's musings and bringing her to look back up at him.
"Byron is inside the hospital room tending to Ashford right now…I suggest you ask him about Ashford's latest activities these days. He'd be the one most probably knowledgeable on that—" He stopped when Byron surprised them all by finally walking out of Ashford's private hospital room and into the hallway with a grim look on his face, stopping just right in front of Harry's seated form.
"Unfortunately, you won't get any useful information from me, Spencer…I wasn't anywhere near Vinc—Ashford for the past few days." He let out a heavy sigh and collapsed down onto the seat right across Harry's, taking the folder from her hands and beginning to leaf through it himself.
Harry stared at him carefully, noting the weariness of his features and the dark circles that were beginning to form under his normally bright eyes. Byron looked positively miserable and exhausted. A part of her wanted to console him but she knew that it wouldn't be proper to do so given the situation and the fact that she knew that the Malfoys, if anything, were a very private family.
As though sensing her thoughts, Byron looked up and leveled her with a warning glare – keeping his expression carefully guarded before flicking his gaze back up to the other surrounding Unspeakables. "So…What have we got so far? Where are we headed now? Let's do this." He asked them nonchalantly, trying his best to keep his anxiety out of his voice.
Harry blinked herself out of her thoughts at his words and nodded, taking the folder from his hands again. She flicked her eyes back up to address everyone around her. "We need more information about the actual parameters of the disease itself. Ashford's medical records indicate that the disease spread physically throughout his body more rapidly than the other victims." She paused and finally set the folder back down onto the table in front of them with a hint of finality.
"That means more research, everyone. I'm personally organizing more high-level investigations within the next couple of days. I'll issue a notice to the Wizengamot for the proper authorization papers and warrants for all of you. I'll distribute you all around Europe—"
"That's BOLLOCKS, Harry. We'd only waste more time."
Harry's words froze midsentence and she looked up in shock at Byron's blunt response, blinking rapidly as she stared into his agitated features. Her cousin-in-law looked rather irritated with her instructions and had fused his eyebrows together in thought, a grim expression of speculation and growing suspicion resting on his handsome face.
"…EXCUSE ME?!"
Spencer, Nicholas, and the rest of the Unspeakable agents all shifted uncomfortably when they recognized the angry indignation in Harry's voice. They saw the growing tension between the two Malfoys and tried to look away instead. Byron also heard the insulted tone in Harry's voice at his rude comment and looked up, trying to quell her anger by offering her a half-hearted apologetic look.
"I apologize if I offended you but I was only stating the truth. Right now, wasting more time on investigating is probably the WORST course of action to take considering the state of things." He indicated to the families walking in and out of the lobby around them. "More and more victims of the disease are being taken in every night…We can't afford to go traipsing around Europe for clues any longer." He told her bluntly again, causing Harry's eyes to flash in growing anger at his behavior.
"Well EXCUSE ME for forming the wrong course of action, Byron but in case you haven't noticed, we have absolutely no BLOODY idea what the hell we're dealing with here!" She snapped back, her voice raising several levels and causing more of the Unspeakables around them to cringe.
Byron sneered uncharacteristically at her, shaking his head at her ignorance. "You obviously have NO skill whatsoever in observational powers do you, Harry? Did you not SEE what was written on Vincent's palm tonight?" Harry froze in surprised confusion at this but it was Nicholas who spoke up and he answered Byron's question with a brief nod of agreement.
"Well-noted, Malfoy…I was just thinking about that myself. 513." He reached a single hand over and wrote the three numbers on a large piece of paper in front them, holding it up for everybody else to see. "Those were the three numbers written on his palm when he collapsed and lost consciousness. I don't know if it's some kind of clue but it could mean something important."
All of the surrounding Unspeakable agents nodded again at this while Harry raised an eyebrow to herself in slight disbelief. "513? That could refer to ANY number, Nicholas! Besides, WHY would Vincent write something like that on his palm? I doubt it meant anything—" She was cut off when Byron spoke up again, looking up and allowing her to see the suspicious glint in his brown eyes.
"Perhaps he wrote it on his palm because he KNEW there was the SLIGHTEST possibility that he was going to be the next victim…" He drawled darkly and the minute the words had left his lips, all of the other agents suddenly stiffened and began to speak all at once amongst themselves in shock.
Harry also tensed at the implication of Byron's words and stared at him in speechless stupor. She waited a couple of minutes for everyone else to quiet down before she addressed Byron again, meeting his uneasy expression across the table with a similar one of her own.
"You think the magical plague is… PERPETUATED?"
Again, Byron stiffened and sneered at her words – scoffing loudly in growing frustration. Ignoring everyone else's stares, he shot up from his seat and slammed his fist against the table, growling out loud and running a hand through his disheveled mane of sleek, black hair.
"LOOK! None of you…NONE OF YOU seem to understand the gravity of the situation here!" He exploded loudly, causing both Harry and Spencer to flinch at the rare expression of anger on his face. Byron continued anyway, practically circling around the waiting lobby in his agitation.
"VINCENT is lying unconscious in COMATOSE in there—" His face darkened and he gesticulated madly to the nearby private room, raising his other hand and massaging his temples. "—and you all STILL think that this is just some disease that we can all 'investigate and take precaution for'!" He shook his head and sighed, collapsing back down onto his seat and helping himself to a glass of water.
After a long sip to clear his throat, he spoke again – his voice sounding much more controlled and authoritative. He turned his attention fully to Harry. "Harry…All the other victims up until NOW were conscious for AT LEAST 2 DAYS before they fell into comatose…But Vincent…He fell into it RIGHT AWAY!" He ignored the way Harry's eyes were growing wider at his words and continued.
"Obviously…SOMEONE doesn't want him spilling something…Which means he KNEW something already, Harry. He discovered something tonight that got him into trouble. It just doesn't make SENSE anymore to continue treating this bloody plague as some randomly transmitted disease! It's goddamn perpetuated!" He told them, clenching his jaw tightly as he met all their shocked faces.
Spencer, Nicholas and all the other Unspeakables were blinking at him – their faces lighting up slowly in growing realization. To his frustration, however, Harry just glared right back at him, stubbornly shaking her head and gritting her teeth in an effort to control her patience. Setting a frown on her face, she took a deep breath and addressed him – keeping her voice calm and controlled.
"Byron…You're…Obviously speaking out of rogue emotions for Vincent at the moment. We all know that it's never a good thing for an Unspeakable agent to let his personal feelings affect his judgment about an assignment. Look…You know that we can't just follow all your assumptions without any further proof, we need to conduct reliable STRUCTURED investigations and follow procedure as usual—" She ignored Byron's attempt to speak again and turned her attention firmly to Nicholas.
"Nicholas…I want you to inform the Healers right away that we're going to be needing blood samples from all the victims of the disease so far. After which, I want you to take it to the Ministry and have it investigated for any strange symptoms." She ordered briskly and at once, Nicholas nodded in affirmation and set off immediately – eager to get away from the awkward conversation.
Byron continued to glare at Harry and looked as though he was going to say something again but Harry went on anyway, turning her attention to Spencer next. "Spencer…I need you to stay here and help out Snape with dealing all the sustenance potions to the victims. If possible, I want you to work with him on a possible potion that may be able to regenerate the victims…If so, we may be able to talk to them – specifically Vincent." She watched as Spencer nodded to her in agreement.
"I'm on it, Harry." He replied and with that, he spun around and darted towards the emergency rooms to look for the mentioned Hogwarts Potion's Master. After he had gone, Harry finally turned and addressed Byron again, narrowing her eyes at him and giving him a pointed glare.
"Byron…As for you, I need you to travel to America and Asia and gather the most acclaimed Healers you can find from their hospitals. I need for you to bring them here and have them help out in determining any possible cures for this disease…Perhaps we can prevent more victims if we—"
"NO…Harry." Byron cut her off sharply again in a flat, deadpan tone of voice, much to her ire and the remaining Unspeakables' surprise at his blatant disregard for authority. Unfortunately, Harry seemed to have realized the same thing and snarled at him, her face flushing dark red with anger.
"Byron, you may be family but that was a direct order from your acting superior! I need your help, don't make this any more difficult than it already is! I need you to—"
"I am TELLING you! This magical disease…is PERPETUATED. I KNOW it is! I can FEEL it and I KNOW Vincent came upon the same conclusion tonight. I just need some time to go to the CISO archives! Please let me off on my own! If you'll let me, I think I may be able to solve this tonight—"
Harry snapped impatiently at him again, shaking her head at his stubbornness. "Byron, I already GAVE you my orders! With Ashford out, it is MY responsibility to keep to trained procedure—"
Byron surprised all of the Unspeakables by cutting off the rest of Harry's words and slamming his fist into the table again, unwittingly causing the glass of water on it to tip over and shatter noisily onto the floor. Harry stopped immediately, her mouth snapping shut with affronted indignation.
"Screw procedure, Harry! Damn you and all that goddamn 'structured' training Vincent rammed into your head! You're really EXCELLENT at it at this point, you know. You sound JUST LIKE HIM, do you know that? In fact, you're becoming more and more like him each day! Are you proud of yourself?" He mocked sarcastically, unable to stop himself despite the stung expression on her face.
"Are you purposely trying to turn yourself into Vincent, Harry? A self-obsessed, conceited, workaholic bastard who has NOTHING going for him but his work and in the end, is ALL ALONE because he's so goddamn proud of himself? Is THAT who you're trying to emulate, Harry?! Huh?!" He saw the crestfallen expression on Harry's face but he was way past self-control at this point.
"Goddamn it, Harry! You KNOW I'm onto something here and the only reason you're refusing to acknowledge it is because you want things done YOUR way! YOU'RE JUST LIKE VINCENT! Get over yourself!" Before Harry or any of the other Unspeakables could say anything else, Byron had already spun around and was storming out of the lobby towards the apparition area – all the while ignoring the stares he knew he was receiving from the surrounding people who had witnessed his outburst.
Harry didn't know how long she had been staring stupidly into the direction Byron had run towards, her face frozen in an expression of stunned disbelief. She stood there blinking and trying to process Byron's angry words when she felt a light hand on her shoulder, causing her to stiffen and bolt up from her seat. Whirling around, the female Unspeakable agent beside her directed her attention carefully to the approaching figure of the Minister of Magic – who at that moment was headed toward them with an expression of panic etched clearly onto his elderly features.
"What is the meaning of this? Who's in charge of this department now that Ashford's collapsed? WHO?!" The surrounding Unspeakable agents all winced at the sound of Cornelius Fudge's angry voice and pointed instantly to Harry, causing her to pale and take a meek step forward.
"That would be me, Minister Fudge… I'm the current Head-in-Training and I'll be handling the remainder of the Unspeakable assignments until Ashford recovers—" She never got to finish her sentence as Cornelius Fudge practically rounded on her, his beady eyes flashing in accusatory anger.
"Well then could you kindly TELL ME what the bloody hell is going on here?! I have reports from all over the country saying that more and more wizards are collapsing due to this disease! MY OWN SON has just collapsed this morning and has been admitted into the emergency room! I need answers Potter and I need you to give them to me NOW!" He exploded at her, ignoring the crowd of bustling assistants and lower-ranking Ministry officials swarming hurriedly around him.
Harry winced again at the angry note of his voice and nodded frantically, trying to process his words while at the same time signing the dozens of incoming authorization papers and documents the other Unspeakable agents were shoving into her face. She tried to ignore the fact that her vision was beginning to spin from all the added pressure around her and took a deep breath to calm herself.
"Minister, I understand your concern regarding your son but I'm afraid we're going to need more time to get to the bottom of the matter! I'm not a fully trained Head Unspeakable Agent yet so—"
"I don't need your excuses, Potter! I don't have time for them! I want you to find the cure for this damn disease right NOW! I mean it!" Fudge barked again and this time – before Harry could answer him – he knocked the folders out of her hands and shoved past her towards the exit, his entire staff of officials and assistants trailing hurriedly behind him through the long, narrow corridor.
As Fudge left, Harry held back a scream of frustration and crouched back down onto the floor to gather the folders Fudge had knocked out of her hands – all the while blinking rapidly as she tried to drown out all the simultaneous voices of the other Unspeakable agents speaking to her all at once.
"Jaimee, about tomorrow's assignments…Will we push through with our search and capture operation in Russia or shall we postpone it for this matter?"
"Jaimee, I need your approval regarding this case! Ashford was supposed to brief me about it tonight but since he's out, I'm going to need your signature before anything else—"
"Potter, the CISO department wants you to report to their office tomorrow morning to coordinate our plan of action regarding the plague. Shall I confirm the appointment?"
"Harry, there's been news of suspicious magical activity sighted in Egypt last night—"
"……………ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Harry could no longer hear nor process anything that was happening around her.
Clenching her eyes shut, she felt the entire room spinning around her as she clamped her hands over ears, cursing loudly and trying to block out all the voices echoing in her head. Ignoring the concerned looks of her fellow Unspeakable agents circled around her; she finally snapped altogether and let out an angry scream of frustration, hurling the folders in her arms back to the floor.
"All of you…Just…Just…Goddamn it! Just – SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
The Unspeakable agents gathered all around her instantly froze at her words and fell into a stunned silence, their shocked expressions turning to meet her blazing green eyes. Harry glared right back at them with a hideous snarl on her face,her shoulders heaving heavily in exhaustion. To her left, one of the older, female Unspeakable agents dared to speak up – leveling her with a concerned look.
"Jaimee…? Are you alright? It's already 9PM…Perhaps you should go home and get some rest for now. You look tired." She offered the younger woman a kind smile but the minute her words had reached Harry's ears, the former Gryffindor tensed up again, her face suddenly paling in realization.
Gulping and flicking her wide green eyes back up at the older woman in front of her; she tried to ignore the sick, nauseating feeling crawling up in the pit of her stomach and managed to speak – her voice coming out in a weak, shaky whisper that betrayed the painful pounding of her heart.
"I—I'm sorry, Valerie…C—could you repeat that? I—it's 9PM already…? M—may I ask what day it is today? Friday…?" She stammered helplessly, her voice growing raspier with each shaky breath she took. The young male Unspeakable agent standing beside Valerie shot her a curious look but obliged, glancing down briefly at his wristwatch before looking back up to answer her question.
"It's…April 7th. Yes, it's Friday…Why? Is something wrong—"
"FUCK! DAMN IT! GODDAMN IT!"
Harry didn't bother explaining herself any longer to the stunned Agents around her.
She whirled around and ran as fast as she could towards the hospital apparition exits. She ignored the shouts directed at her from behind and tore desperately through the crowded hallway, her eyes blurring rapidly with each step she took as she felt a familiar pang tightening in her chest.
She forgot…I can't believe it…She forgot… Draco didn't even know how long he had been staring blankly at the small, beautifully-wrapped package in his hands when he heard the waiter speaking up from behind him, the familiar voice drawing the former Slytherin out of his thoughts.
"Master Malfoy…Shall I be taking your order now, sir? Will you wife be arriving shortly?"
Draco didn't even bother hiding the look of resentment on his face this time as he looked up and met the young waiter's polite expression with an angry sneer, his silver eyes narrowing scathingly in contempt. "She was supposed to have gotten here an HOUR ago…What do YOU think?!" He drawled in a low, mocking tone of voice, the spite in his voice causing the waiter to color in embarrassment.
"I—I meant no disrespect, sir…I was simply—"
"Get lost and get out of my sight…"
His spoken order had surprisingly come out sounding weak and exhausted but Draco couldn't bring himself to care at this point. He merely buried his face into his hands again, sighing in defeat and shoving the small wrapped package he held in his hands back into the inside pocket of his coat.
It was more than a quarter past nine at this point but for the life of him; he didn't even bother trying to debate with himself anymore whether or not Harry had forgotten about their plans for that evening. She was supposed to have arrived more than an HOUR ago and for each minute of that hour; Draco felt more and more like a hapless idiot – sitting there right in the middle of the most expensive restaurant in Wizarding London and drowning himself in wine as he waited for his elusive wife.
He had never felt more hurt, disappointed and humiliated all at once in his entire life.
Shaking his head to himself with a hint of disgusted finality, Draco let out a harsh, self-mocking sneer and slammed his empty glass of wine back down onto table. He rose up sharply from his seat, ignoring the stares he knew he was receiving from the other customers around him.
I can only wait for so long, Harry.
He couldn't bring himself to say anything else as he hastily signed the bill presented to him by one of the nearby waiters, snatched his wand and coat back up from the table and slowly forced himself to walk out of the restaurant. Sensing the pouring rain outside, he slipped himself back into his black coat and began to walk out the exit doors, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.
It wasn't until he had managed to walk out onto the dimly lit night streets of Wizarding London just outside the restaurant that he finally caught sight of Jaimee's distant figure a couple of meters away from him on the other end of the street. Her pale cheeks were flushed with exertion and her Unspeakable robes were drenched from the pouring rain outside but she was running desperately towards him, pushing past several other passing witches and wizards along the crowded streets.
She finally reached him after a couple of seconds and practically collapsed in front of him, her shoulders heaving with shaky, exhausted breaths. Forcing herself to stand back up, she didn't say anything and just looked up into his disappointed gray orbs, her own eyes dimming in realization.
"Draco…I…I—I'm so sorry—" Her voice broke and she covered her mouth with her hands to hide the trembling of her lips, flicking her eyes back up and looking imploringly into his face again.
Draco just stared back blankly at her, the expression on his handsome face showing nothing more than weariness and defeat. He was completely drained of all anger at this point and couldn't find the energy to do anything else except stare at her, his gray eyes completely devoid of any emotions.
He remained completely silent and studied her carefully, watching as her beautiful green orbs began to glisten with unshed tears and her face began to crumple with each passing second that no words were exchanged between them. Then, as though unable to endure his stoic, unreadable reaction any longer, Harry spoke first – breaking the silence with a soft, broken whisper.
"Draco…Please…Say something…Anything…Please…"
Somehow, her words seemed to have broken through the mental barrier Draco had set up around himself. He finally blinked, momentarily tearing his intense gaze away from her to reach for something in the pocket of his coat. When he glanced back up to meet her face, he reached out and offered her a small, elegantly wrapped package – waiting patiently until she took it from his palm.
Once she had done this, he shoved his hands back into his coat pockets and turned around – pausing for just the briefest second to look over his shoulder and address her coldly for the first time.
"……Happy Anniversary."
He never saw the heartbroken expression of stunned realization on his wife's face as he turned back around and stalked off towards the pouring rain. Unable to do anything else, Harry stared helplessly after his retreating back, the tears streaming down her cheeks intermingling with the heavy droplets of rain that continued to pour down onto her exhausted, trembling form.
Oh god…I forgot…I forgot our anniversary…How could I forget…? How…How…How…HOW?!
Harry voiced the question over and over again in her head – her heart pounding rapidly in time with each silent enunciation of 'how' but even after mulling over it for the last five minutes, she couldn't bring herself to figure out the answer. Her knees had given out long ago and she had collapsed weakly onto her knees by the sidewalk just outside the restaurant but she didn't care – her attention focused on nothing else except the beautiful package resting on the palm of her hand.
She knew Draco had long apparated and that she had been sitting there out on the London streets for more than half an hour since then – practically freezing herself to death in the pouring rain. A good couple of passing witches and wizards had already offered to help her back up in concern but she had remained completely deaf to their calls, her eyes fixated intently on the gift on her palm.
A small slip of paper had been tucked carefully underneath the gift's elegant white ribbon and Harry's fingers shook as she slipped it out, her breath hitching painfully in her throat. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she unfolded it slowly and squinted to read through Draco's neatly written handwriting.
Harry,
Despite all that's happened, I'll never regret getting on that rollercoaster with you back in Hogsmeade five years ago. You didn't know it back then…But it was the day I first realized I loved you.
I know things may not look so good for us right now…But the ride's just beginning and we have so much more to look forward to. I wouldn't share the ride with anyone else except you. So as impatient a man I am, I'll wait until we're back up there…Ready to let go and take the plunge again.
I love you. Happy Anniversary.
Draco
She nearly dropped the small opened box in shock the minute she saw what was inside.
Nestled in the box's soft, velvet interior lay an exquisite and specially crafted silver necklace – its material shimmering brightly in the darkness of her surroundings. The charm attached to the silver chain was made from pure diamond and had been carved perfectly into the form of a small rollercoaster – the shape of which resembled exactly the rollercoaster they had ridden 5 years ago.
Oh god…
From that moment onwards, Harry had absolutely no idea how long she sat there for the remainder of the night – stunned, unblinking and staring blankly at the necklace hanging limply from her hand. Somewhere along the back of her mind, she could make out the faint ringing of what seemed to be her muggle cell phone from her robe pockets. It wasn't until the ringing had persisted for nearly fifteen minutes that she forced herself to answer it, holding it shakily against her ear.
"…Wh—what is it…?"
"HARRY? IS THAT YOU?! HARRY?!"
Under normal circumstances, Harry would have been able to recognize the tears and interlaced sobbing within Hermione's rushed voice but in her present state of mind, she was unable to say or do anything else in response except blink several times in meek, dispirited confusion.
"Wh—what is it, Hermione…? I—I'm sorry but I—I c—can't really t—talk right now—"
Hermione's broken, panicked voice cut off the rest of Harry's stammered response.
"H—HARRY! Y—YOU'VE GOT TO COME QUICK! P—PLEASE! Y—YOU'VE GOT TO HELP ME! I—IT'S HORRIBLE! PLEASE COME HERE FAST, PLEASE! I—I—"
The obvious desperation in Hermione's voice finally managed to break through Harry's hazy state of mind and she suddenly sat up, her eyes immediately narrowing in suspicion and alertness.
"Hermione…What is it? What's wrong…? Tell me."
She heard her best friend's poorly muffled crying from the other line just before Hermione spoke up again, her voice cracking several times through her violent sobs.
"I—IT'S BLAISE! H—HE…I—I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED! I W—WENT INTO HIS OFFICE T—TO CHECK ON HIM FIVE M—MINUTES AGO A—AND HE J—JUST—" The other girl began to break down again but even before Hermione said it, Harry already knew what she was going to say next.
"HE JUST WENT INTO SEIZURE! H—HE CAUGHT THE DISEASE, HARRY!"
A/N: ………Dare I say it? CLIFFHANGER! Wahaha! Like I always say, never write a story without one. Oh wow. I barely realized it but we're actually approaching the end of the story at this point. I'm estimating about 6-7 more chapters left…Give or take a few I suppose. Hehehe. How exciting! I DID tell you guys that this story wouldn't have as many chapters as TPG. :D
And yes, I give you all permission to hate Harry at this point. I know you're all wondering why she's messing up so badly in this story but I figured, since it was Draco who made all our heads boil in TPG, it's only fair that Harry experiences some of that reader antagonism in TPW. Am I right? :D
Next Chapter: Revelations about the Plague, The climax of the story (Don't want to give it away! :D)