Sethogriffs and Bacon Odes

"-orry, but I'm afraid she was caught in quite an incriminating position."

The words were blurred, almost as if someone was pressing a thick comforter across my head. Numberita was still in a fog, and I was only vaguely aware of my surroundings. Everything was dark – was it late, then? – and I could feel the faint rustle of fabric pressing against my body. I was in a bed, then. Judging by the scratchy texture of the sheets and the stiffness of the mattress, it was a standard cot. The material and the faint scent of potion ingredients pointed to St. Mungo's.

"Incriminating? She discovered key clues – evidence that could very well solve this bloody case – that your law enforcement overlooked! You should be thanking the poor girl, not threatening to get her background checked!"

The second voice was feminine and oddly familiar. It carried a tone of authority, a voice that was used to fighting. I frowned – or at least I thought I did; I still wasn't completely sure that I had control over my body – silently, still staring out into blank nothingness. I felt sluggish, trapped in a hazy field of drugged stupor.

Wait. Drugged. I narrowed Numberita's mental focus, focusing on my left forearm. I gradually became aware of something pricking my skin – a needle. They were pumping me full of who knew what sort of mind-numbing potions. But who? Unfortunately, Numberita was still groggy, and I couldn't quite place my location yet. Or open my eyes. Unless they were already open, and I was in some terrifying void of darkness – which opened up a whole other round of concerns.

"Why are you so reluctant to get her background checked? This should be routine. Unless…you believe there is something to be kept hidden."

I decided I didn't like speaker number one. His voice was also vaguely familiar, and it was snidely condescending.

"You know very well why we can't afford such an unnecessary delay. This gir-this lawyer is second chair for one of the most prominent and important cases of this age. This case could change the course of history itself. A background check would require her to leave the case and go into unpaid leave, something that would result in utter chaos this late in the case," speaker number two was growing more exasperated.

"Well, Mrs. Weasley, all the more reason to hope the council finds a…favorable outcome," he said, derision threading through his words.

I struggled to open my eyes, but they still felt like a dozen Sethogriffs were sitting on my eyelids.

A few sharp footsteps echoed across the room, and I felt a sharp blaze of pain as something was wrenched out of my left arm.

"Mrs.-Mrs. Weasley! You can't do that!"

"Oops," I heard her say innocently, not sounding apologetic at all. The pain seared white-hot across Numberita, jolting my eyes open. I blinked blearily, taking in my surroundings clumsily. Concerned-looking warm brown eyes stared into mine.

"R-Rose?" I mumbled. The face crumpled for a split second before her lips pulled up into a slightly shaky smile.

"No, Adela. It's Hermione," she said kindly. Hermione? My eyes widened as the events of the past few hours returned. The Bulgarians!

I jerked forward, wincing slightly when Numberita began throbbing painfully. Lifting a hand to steady my forehead, I made out haltingly, "The-the Bulgarians."

Her eyes flickered. "Dead," she said softly.

What? How-

And then Numberita remembered the details. Every single gruesome aspect of the scene – the acrid scent of burning hair, Andrei's silence as his skin was glued to the glass wall, the smeared runes, Aleksandra's convulsing body –

"They sent mediwizards as quickly as they could, but by then it was too late. Brown found your body alongside Green's," she continued.

Wait. Green. I frowned, my brow furrowing as I struggled to fit together the jagged thoughts that were still clattering around Numberita. I seemed to remember some vague, menacing smile – but that couldn't be true. He'd fainted – that I did remember. Maybe he'd regained consciousness…? But why would he smile like that? Maybe I'd imagined it. From what Numberita could (hazily) recall, I had been on the verge on exhaustion and unconsciousness. It could have been some warped hallucination. And yet…

"And- and Al?" I managed finally, a spool of dread uncurling in my stomach; what if he was in major trouble? What if he faced more months of bodyguard duty?

To my relief, her mouth curled up into a genuine – if a somewhat incredulous – smile.

"The boy's smart. Robards tried very hard to get him punished, but there are no real grounds for justifying even a simple search – not when so many other things are happening," she said. I let out the breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. Well, at least Al was safe.

"They did find the tattoos on their necks, though. The ones that matched the trio of hitwizards that attacked you earlier," she continued, her voice sobering.

I no longer drew any satisfaction from the knowledge that I'd been right. It had resulted in the deaths of two (admittedly horrible) people and the potential destruction of Daisy's chances at freedom.

"They also found some rather suspicious runes carved all around the cell. They brought me in to look at them; they were extremely complex runes, some of which I'd never even seen before. I'm still working to translate them. The tattoo, by the way, was a rune that looked like a combination of Ehwaz and Thurisaz," she whispered. So Al was right – the tattoo hadn't been Bulgarian at all. Not much was known about Ancient Runes – few could read even a single one – other than it was magic so old and mysterious that even experimenting with one could result in painful death. One slight tremor of the finger could drastically change the spell. Few dared to even try runic magic. I knew next to nothing about the subject.

She seemed to notice my confusion, for she added, "Ehwaz means partnership. Thurisaz – well, that one's harder to translate, but it roughly means an explosive reactive force, a catharsis or purging." Well, that sounded brilliant.

"Great. A pact for violent revenge."

She nodded grimly. "It appears so. They've already harmed my daughter. I won't let them hurt anyone else," she said, her eyes narrowing at an unseen enemy. I shivered; from what I knew of Hermione Granger-Weasley, I certainly would not want to be on her wrong side.

There were so many stray facts spinning around Numberita. There had to be something that connected them all – other than the tattoos, of course. Why were they targeting me? Sure, Seth always said that I was incredibly annoying (prime example of a hypocrite, by the way), but I doubted that warranted (several) violent attacks. Numberita tried to slog through the conflicting facts as I frowned down at my hands. They were still lined with red cuts that smarted whenever they brushed the scratchy hospital sheets, painful reminders of the events at the prison. Maybe Numberita ought to think this through chronologically.

Event A: I interrupt a raid on Andrei's apartment above an innocent-looking pet shop. He mutters something about a phoenix. Event B: I am kidnapped. He keeps muttering something about a phoenix. Event C: A trio of men with odd cobalt tattoos attacks me. Event D: I go into the prison and discover that the same tattoo is concealed on Andrei's neck. Event E: Andrei almost escapes. I freak out and he ends up dying in front of me. Aleksandra is in the back convulsing under the glow of runes while Green is long gone behind me.

…

Merlin. That list was disheartening.

Obviously the phoenix was important; as far as I knew, it was still safely housed in the Department of Mysteries. Unless the mysterious employer had learned of its location in the time between the Bulgarians' capture and now, it should still be safe.

I lowered my voice, looking past her shoulder to eye the bloke – Mr. Patronising, I realized – behind her.

"How much trouble am I in?"

She shifted slightly, blocking Mr. Patronising's view of my face.

She leaned in closer, lowering her voice even more. "They'll have an inquisitor come in shortly to question you. They were just waiting for you to regain consciousness. Just keep emphasizing the discovery of the tattoos, pull some concerned citizen act. Harry told me that he managed to get Lufkin to question you; that's good, she's very liberal. Pretend it's a crossfire," she said hurriedly.

"Oi! Speak so I can hear you!" Mr. Patronising barked, his grating voice sending another splinter of pain through Numberita. Ms. Granger didn't react, continuing on as if she hadn't heard him, "You can do it, Adela."

I nodded jerkily, forcing myself to take a deep breath.

Inhale.

One, two, three.

Exhale.

Then I shakily propped myself up with my hands, turning slowly as I moved to get off the cot. She held out a helping hand, and I leaned on her heavily as I braced myself on slightly trembling legs.

Merlin, I was a mess.

Still ignoring Mr. Patronising, I turned to Ms. Granger. "Where's Lufkin? I might as well get this over with."

She smiled, approval shining in her warm eyes.

"I thought you might feel that way. She's waiting in the room right to the left of this one," she said, giving my hand an encouraging squeeze – my heart clenched painfully at the motherly look in her eye – before nodding towards the door.

I walked past Mr. Patronising without sparing him a glance, opening the door determinedly and pausing for only two seconds to get my bearings in the sudden light of the hallway. A faint light shone from behind the frosted glass window in the door to my left. I strode forward a meter, pausing just before the wooden door.

Then I knocked.

"Come in!"

Okay. I could do this. I had to convince her to send extra reinforcements to the Department of Mysteries. From what Numberita could tell, the mysterious employer behind the tattoos was clever; how else had he – or she – known exactly where to find me twice? Honestly, it was a bit creepy. Like having a faceless stalker following your every move. Maybe this was karma's retribution for my brief period of pretending to be a Muggle spy back in first year. I followe-er, infiltrated the Slytherin Dungeon and raided several hidden sweet stores. Seth still didn't know that I was the one who ate his last chocolate frog.

I pushed open the door, steeling myself for whatever awaited me within the pristine room.

A short blonde woman with heavy black spectacles offered me a small smile before motioning to the rickety seat on the opposite end of the metal desk. I sat down slowly, folding my hands in my lap. She said nothing, merely regarding me with her owlish pale green eyes. She looked to be around Ms. Granger's age, with faint lines peeking out from the corners of her big eyes and thin lips.

"Er, hello," I began, uncomfortable with the science. She made a note in the small notebook before her. I glanced down surreptitiously – what on earth could she have to write about a single 'hello'? – but gave up when I saw that the pad was charmed to be illegible to everyone but the writer (Merlin, that charm would have been useful back in Hogwarts; Scorpius once read aloud a rather embarrassing ode to bacon that I'd scrawled during Herbology).

"Hello, Ms. Lancaster," she said finally. Then she leaned forward slightly, her eyes glinting with curiousity.

"Now, I have people shouting at me, telling me that you ought to be thrown into prison or at the very least labeled mentally unstable and sent for an inpatient stay at St. Mungo's," she said.

I stiffened, swallowing thickly as I struggled to keep the horror I felt from appearing on my face.

"It seems to me like you're an intelligent woman capable of making your own decisions," I said levelly. Her smile widened.

"Indeed. And to make that decision I will need to know everything. Speak," she commanded.

I hesitated for a second, unsure of how much I ought to tell her. I didn't want to get Al in any trouble – or make it appear like I'd broken any laws. Numberita whirred frantically, struggling to come up with the most equivocal-yet-convincing statement that she could think of.

"Now, Ms. Lancaster."

"When the trio of hitwizards attacked us at the Manchester United game, I noticed something blue – a tattoo – on their necks. This tattoo was in the same location on all three necks; I thus deduced that it held some significance. My mind immediately went to the Bulgarian siblings. They'd kidnapped me a few days prior, and the style of fighting matched with theirs.

"I know some argue that the hitwizards could have been an attack sent from the Purebloods and thus may say that my subsequent trip to the prison was unjustified and ill thought-out, but I'd counter by saying that I spent sixteen years of my life entrenched in Pureblood politics. I know first-hand the underhand, subtle intimidation tactics they favour. Such a brash attack – and in full view of Muggles – is not in their style. I saw a lead – and a potential threat – and decided to follow through. I went with Auror Potter – the younger one – and visited the prison in London. This, as I'm sure you are aware, is well within my rights as a citizen of Wizarding London and someone with a personal connection to the Bulgarians.

"Auror Cassandra Robards let us in herself, and we had the express permission of the Minister of Magic. Auror Robards –"

Here I faltered. I cursed my past self; I should have thought to ask Ms. Granger of Robards's fate. I didn't want to throw Cassandra wrongfully under the Knight Bus.

Lufkin raised a pale eyebrow. Shoot. I'd already hesitated for two seconds more than was acceptable. Sending a silent prayer to Merlin, I continued speaking.

"Auror Robards and Auror Potter had – had an interaction that, while under control, attracted the attention of the guards. The guards extracted Robards and Potter. I was not given any express direction, so I lingered near the cell and cast a revealing spell on Andr-the prisoner's neck. Finding an identical tattoo, I thus concluded that they were all connected. Andrei mentioned a phoenix that his employer desperately wants. Though I'm still not sure why this mystery employer wants this phoenix, I do know that this employer is smart. He will discover that the phoenix is in the Department of Mysteries. I highly suggest sending reinforcements there and alerting the Unspeakables as soon as possible," I finished.

She regarded me silently. I resisted the urge to fidget, feeling a small bead of sweat trickle down my back. Finally she nodded, closing her notepad with a small snap of her wrist.

She stood, holding out a hand. I shook it hesitantly, still searching her face for any sign of her decision. Unfortunately, her face was as unreadable as ever.

"I will consider this matter carefully," she said. I nodded stiffly, and her eyes softened slightly.

"Don't worry," she added with a conspiratorial wink. "You spoke very well. I'll alert the Unspeakables as soon as I can." I exhaled heavily, overcome with relief.

"Thank you," I said sincerely. She gave me another small smile before slipping her notepad into her black bag and, with a wave, stepped out of the room.

As soon as she left, two figures entered the room, both bearing hair of varying shades of blonde. The first figure burst into the room unceremoniously and had darker hair the colour of sun-bronzed wheat, and he ran forward to envelop me in a hug. The second figure was more reserved and had paler white-blonde hair, and she closed the door firmly behind her, lingering by the doorway watchfully.

"Seth!" I breathed, clinging to my brother tightly and fighting back tears. Merlin, I'd missed him. It felt like ages since I'd last seen him. He withdrew after eight seconds, looking down to survey me carefully.

"Why in Merlin's beard do you attract so much trouble?" he finally said. I grinned, shaking my head. "You know me. I'm a real rebel; my name might as well be Countess Danger von Darkness," I quipped.

He rolled his bright blue eyes, reaching down to smack my tangled hair gently.

"That's a rubbish name."

I shrugged. "Better than shouting 'battlecry'," I returned. He scowled. Then he glanced over my head at the second person in the room. I followed his gaze, my brows rising slightly as I recognized Vane's stoic form. She looked a bit uncomfortable, and she was gripping her wand tightly and looking as if she'd like nothing better than to be anywhere but here. I swallowed nervously; she must hate me for getting Al in trouble again.

"Who's Ms. Scary?" Seth whispered. "She looks like she could freeze hell over. Twice."

"Eve Vane. Apparently she was childhood friends with Scorpius…? Do you remember her being at any of those awful events we were forced into?" He frowned, shooting her another speculative look.

"No, I can't say I do. If I had I would certainly remember her."

I shot him a curious look; what did he mean by that? Numberita didn't have any time to dwell on it, however, for the woman in question strode forward purposefully, giving me a curt nod.

"Lancaster," she greeted, not bothering to look at Seth. I eyed her carefully; well, at least she didn't look any angrier than usual.

"Vane," I returned.

"Potter's still at his house; apparently his mother is verbally assaulting him," she said. Poor Al; Ginny Potter was, like Hermione, someone to be feared.

"How do you know Scorpius?" Seth blurted. I resisted the urge to smack him with OBTS. Honestly, I (grudgingly) loved the guy, but he could be downright slow at times. Vane certainly wasn't the type to share her childhood stories with anyone – except maybe Al. I frowned to myself, remembering Al's previous promise to tell me Vane's back-story. With all the past activity, he hadn't had a chance to tell me anything yet.

Vane flicked her eyes to my left, regarding Seth coolly. Then she sniffed imperiously, turning away pointedly. I felt Seth stiffen beside me; blundering idiot that he may have been, he was still a Slytherin. And no Slytherin – or anyone, really – liked to be dismissed.

"I'm sure Potter will want to be rescued soon. If you wish to see him unscathed, I suggest we leave now," she said, ignoring Seth's question. Seth scowled beside me, and I nudged him sympathetically before nodding.

"Right, let's go." I turned to Seth. "If you want to face Ginny Potter, then you're welcome to co-" I began. He shook his head vigorously, pure horror shining from his eyes.

"Merlin, no. If you want to do that, by all means, go. I'm claiming your stuff if you die, though," he said. I pointed one of my fingers at him (guess which one) before withdrawing my wand from my pocket. Glancing over at Vane, I was surprised to see a – fleeting – look of wistfulness on her face as she watched my interaction with Seth. Noticing my gaze, she quickly assumed her look of careful apathy once more. That was odd. Filing it away for future analysis, I closed my eyes and pictured the Potters' house.

Then I turned on my heel, Apparating away with a sharp crack.

After rescuing Al from his mother's clutches (it involved an elaborate scheme that made use of loud, distracting products from Wizard Wheezes and Lily, who was temporarily back from university), we Apparated back to St. Mungo's to check on Rose.

"-so they're sending additional forces to the Department of Mysteries?" Al asked as we made our way down the pristine hallway. I nodded, eying him carefully; why did he look so troubled? Noticing my worried gaze, he shook his head sharply. "It's probably nothing - it's just...Dad can hardly spare anyone, so they'll need to send the MLE in. And the MLE will need to get permission from the Unspeakables before they can storm into the Department of Mysteries, and those two departments have had strained relations for years now-" he began.

"-So it'll take even longer for them to get permission. Brilliant," I finished. This didn't bode well for the phoenix's safety; the longer we waited, the more time the Bulgarians' mysterious benefactors had to plan an extraction.

Vane stopped outside of one of the plain glass doors that lined the hallway. "This is it," she said. I exchanged a look with Al before biting my lip and pushing the door open. I felt a deep, crushing guilt weighing down my shoulders; it was my fault she'd gotten hurt. It was my foolish plan that made her a target, my insistence on tracking down Grey that left her in this unresponsive, comatose state.

To my utter surprise, a pale figure sat next to her bedside. Scorpius. His usually neatly-arranged hair was a disheveled mess and his white shirt lined with wrinkles. He held Rose's limp hand tightly, his head bent over her side as he slept.

I chanced a glance toward Vane; her face was pale but determinedly neutral as she took in the scene. I almost felt sorry for her; from what little I knew about her, she'd had a less-than-ideal childhood. From the sounds of it, Scorpius had been one of the only good things (if not the only good thing) about her childhood. She was bound to feel attached to him.

I hesitated nine centimeters away from the sleeping Malfoy, unsure of what to do. He looked so tired; I didn't know if we ought to wake him or -

Al swatted at his arm. The blonde jolted awake, his silver eyes sleepy and disoriented as he reeled back in his chair.

Well. That was one way of waking up a bloke.

"Scorp. You look terrible, and you're not doing Rose any good by wasting away here. Go home and rest," he said firmly. Recognition gleamed in Scorpius's pale eyes, then equally firm resolve.

"No," he said quietly, standing so that he was at Al's height. They stared at each other, pale blonde and inky black hair almost brushing as twin arms folded into defiant tangles and dark, dark shoes planted stubborn promises into the polished tile, neither one willing to concede defeat.

I exchanged an exasperated look with Vane before blinking in surprise. Had - had we just thought the same thing? This was usually something that happened between Rose and I - not...not with anyone else. Vane looked just as uncomfortable as I did, and her eyes were beginning to slide away. Al's words flashed into Numberita once more - Her mum abandoned her as a child...raised in a Bulgarian orphanage...abandoned...abandoned...abandoned

I moved forward almost involuntarily, catching Vane's attention once more. Though her pale blue eyes were as haughtily cold as ever, there was a flicker of uncertainty behind them - I smiled as warmly as I could before rolling my eyes and jerking my head pointedly in the direction of the two idiots still battling it out. She hesitated, a small smile curling her lips. Then we moved as one towards the two dolts, she grabbing Al and I Scorpius as we wrenched them apart.

"Oi!" Scorpius protested, though the word was a bit ruined when he stumbled drowsily. I braced him with strained arms, pushing him back upright. Merlin, he looked terrible. From this close distance (I was still propping the - much taller! - bloke up with my hands), I could note the dark bags under his eyes and the dazed, bleary look in his normally-clear eyes.

"Scorp. Go. Home," I ordered. He looked down at me, then at my hands. Sighing wanly, he looked back at Rose sadly.

"But - Ro-" he began, his voice breaking slightly. He sounded so young, so unsure of himself - I fought down the sob that threatened to tear itself from my throat. No. I will not cry I will not cry I will not cry-

Small, calloused hands joined mine in bracing Scorp. Vane. "Go home, Scorpius," she said quietly. Then, with a smile that was only slightly twisted with pain, she added, "Rose wouldn't want you to suffer like this."

Scorpius nodded, a short, abrupt movement that looked awkward and out of place.

"All-all right," he said finally, his eyes still fixed on Rose's silent form. Then he moved to spin, preparing to Apparate back home - no! If he tried to Apparate in his state, the fool would end up Splinched somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

I smacked his chest with my arm, stopping his movements abruptly. He had the nerve to throw a wounded look towards me.

"We're getting someone to escort you ba-" I began.

"-I'll do it," Vane interjected. I glanced at her, my eyes widening slightly in surprise. The hurt that had been so clear in her eyes had faded to quiet defeat as she glanced back towards Rose's unconscious body.

"O-okay," I said slowly. She turned to Al, and something passed between them - a quiet look that exchanged years of information and intentions, one that could only pass between people who'd relied on each other in near-death situations and years of combat.

"I'll meet you at Grey's," she said. Al nodded.

Then she was gone, propping Scorpius up with one leanly muscled arm and a determined look on her face.

Merlin. That woman was amazingly strong - not just in the physical sense but the emotional one as well.

After they'd exited the room, Al and I huddled around Rose's silent form quietly, expressions of grim resolve - and guilt - mirrored on each of our faces. She looked so...small. Her freckled face was pallid and sickly, and even her normally vibrant curls looked washed-out under the harsh light of the hospital room. From what I'd seen from her chart, she'd been hit by an odd combination of spells that left even the brightest of Healers stumped.

"I...I don't like seeing her like this," I said quietly, staring at her still face. Al stepped forward so that our sides barely brushed, providing a comforting warmth in the otherwise cold room.

"Me neither," he said softly. And, though even in the relatively-blissful days of sixth year we'd never been ones for public shows of outward affection, his right hand grazed my left as his fingers hooked mine.

I exhaled slowly, keeping my eyes fixed on Rose. Now I had another person to get revenge for - Rose. Daisy. Even the Bulgarians, to some extent. For what had they been but scared teenagers being blackmailed by some faceless entity?

"We'll make them pay," Al said firmly, echoing my thoughts. Then, with our fingers still interlocked tightly in a silent pact that said more than any spoken words could have hoped to convey, we moved in tandem as we Apparated away.

It was time to get some answers.

Author note: wow, this was also very long. I thought about ending it earlier but decided to leave it as one chapter as a gift ;) Thanks for reading! Life is getting very (very!) hectic, so I don't know if I'll be able to get an update out on schedule next week. I will, however, try my best. Thanks for your patience! It's very much appreciated :)