9/10/14

Again I apologize for the time between updates. I like to have a few chapters done ahead of the ones I'm posting. I'm working on additional stories and trying to juggle school ans working part-time. I hope to get the next chapter out sooner, but writer's block is kicking my ass!

Disclaimer: I still don't own either property, otherwise we would have XF3 by now!

PaJu: Here's the next chapter!

CH 4

His journey was solitary and quiet, as he often went earlier than anyone else, resulting in little traffic congestion for his morning commute. He checked that he had everything he needed. Gun, badge, wand in invisible holster strapped to his arm, rendering it unable to be summoned from his person, keys, sunflower seeds (how he got addicted to the damn things, he'd never know), briefcase, extra clip for the, gun, wallet with check stub in case payroll messed up again. Mental checklist finished, he got out of the car, locking the door behind, and made his way to his office, stopping at the necessary security points, operating on autopilot, as he mentally chewed on the inside of his cheek.

He still felt the hovering cloud, that wasn't quite foreboding or trepidation, but almost bordered on anticipation. He rarely received visitors to his office, and he could only remember that there was some new agent being sent to spy on him, again. He wasn't worried, though. They wouldn't last, they never did.

Reaching his office gave him no reprieve from his thoughts; it only seemed to heighten his awareness. Fate had never done him any favors; he didn't think it would start now. He pushed his troubled musings to the side, focusing on the task at hand, engrossing himself, letting the world fade away, until what was a couple hours later, when he was pulled back by a knock on his office door. The sardonic response that fell from his mouth was unconscious on his part, years of cultivating the persona that was inspired by what he knew of his father and his notorious best friend's attitudes and mannerisms, with a sprinkling of his often least favorite professor's derisive tones.

He looked up from what he was doing at the sound of someone entering his office

A woman entered. She was petite with red hair that made his heart jump into his throat, sharp blue eyes, and a pale complexion. The feeling of dreaded anticipation erupted in his gut. He sensed in her the same background static that existed in the back of his own mind, the sense of Magic. Other than the occasional brush when straying too close to magical communities (Salem came to mind), he had not felt the presence of another witch or wizard since he had left Oxford. And whoever this was definitely didn't fall in the Squib category.

Her forward progress towards him was filtered through a slight daze, his mouth operating on a sardonic autopilot, her name remotely registered, causing him to spew his knowledge of her reputation at her. She returned that she was looking forward to working with him, something he very much doubted, no one did, and that was somewhat deliberate on his part. He still watched over his shoulder for the odd stray Death Eater that may have gotten lucky and wandered close enough to recognize magic. He was going to bide his time to see who this woman really was, though he had his suspicions, and all of them spelled trouble.

He ended their conversation with a litmus test for general skeptic, using an off the cuff remark, that he thought made him sound like a nut but it amused him at the same time. "Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?"

She was reeling from seeing him again after all this time. She knew he would look different, that he would be disguised like she was, but she still recognized him. No matter what color they were, she would know those eyes anywhere. His distrust of her pricked a bit, but she knew had more to do with the fact he didn't know her, rather than anything else. The accent was as jarring as her own sometimes, her native voice being alien to herself having spent so much time in the States and speaking as they do. She tried not to look for the scar that she knew wouldn't be there, and looking for it might alert him to the fact that she knew who he really was.

She recognized his self-deprecating wit, well-honed at this point in his life. His sarcasm had always been present, lighter and used mostly when provoked, and had been reactionary. Now it was a weapon used with skill, with the capability to cut and not find the wound until it was bleeding profusely. She didn't take it personally. She knew him too well, and knew that he defaulted to an isolatory existence, due to his long established guilt of those that had died to protect him.

A war raged within her even as they bandied back and forth. A part of her wanted to reveal herself right away, greet him as she truly was, and reacquaint themselves, but at the same time she wanted let him be, observe him, see the man he has become after all this time. They were not the same people that they were when he had left, and they would need to readjust to being around each other. Her mind multitasked arguing with herself at the same time as having a conversation with him, and she was aware of the subject of a case that they were going to investigate. His "I guess that's why they put the 'I' in the FBI," faintly registered to her amusement, and agreed to meet up at the airport the next day, going their separate ways.

Her journey back to her apartment was absent-minded. As soon as she hit the door, she started activating her security charms. Once she felt all of them were in place, she sent off a Patronus to Ron and Hermione, with the message "I found him." Then she pulled out a journal. Given her history, she was averse to writing in one, but like the last one, this was enchanted, linked to a book that her mother had in her possession. She tapped her wand on the first page, to alert her mum that she was writing, and went to retrieve a quill specially made for the book. A response came quickly.

Ginny, it's Mum.

She rolled her eyes, used to this greeting, as if anyone else would write in the book. It had been a present for her final year at Hogwarts, a way to communicate that could not be intercepted. The loss of one of her children had wounded Molly Weasely deeply, and after she had learned of the full extent of Ginny's sixth year, it was all she could to talk her mother out of not sending her back to school. The charmed journals were the concession. She responded back.

Hello, Mum.

How are you, dear? Was your trip alright?

It was fine.

I don't trust those Muggle metal birds.

Mum, you have a better chance of getting hit by one of Hagrid's Blast-ended skrewts then crashing in a plane.

All the same, you should have at least just taken a Portkey.

Too much paperwork. The airplane was easier.

So, what's on your mind dear?

Ginny paused. To tell or not to tell. Her mum knew she was looking, and had told her where to find him, although receiving the transfer was a happy happenstance.

I saw him.

Wonderful! Did you speak to him?

I did. I'm his new partner.

Does he know who you are?

No.

Why not, dear?

I want to, but something's holding me back. And he's different now. We both are.

Ginny, you know how he reacts when he finds out there's something he wasn't told.

She snorted. That was for sure, although the things that had been held back from usually had to do with that snake-faced bastard and his minions' attempts to capture, torture, or kill him or his friends, so she could understand his anger. And she didn't want hide the truth from him, but she didn't want to set him off running.

I don't know what to do. What if I tell him, and he runs, and it takes another decade to find him again.

Ginny, dear, he isn't hiding now is he?

No, but he did. He ran and hid from us.

Can you blame him?

No, I might have done the same thing, not that you would have let me.

I don't think he'll run. You can only run so long.

But why didn't he come home?

Maybe he wanted to find out who he was besides being the boy who lived.

Maybe.

So you'll tell him.

I will.

When?

Soon.

Don't leave it too long, dear. These things have a way of coming back on you if you wait too long.

I'll tell him soon, mum.

I have to go, Ginny. Your father sends his love, as do I.

I love you too, mum. Give dad my love too.

I will, dear. Take care, and be careful.

I will, mum. Talk to you later.

Ginny closed the journal as the words faded away, and tucked the journal back into its hiding place, with an absent note to make sure to pack it later. Not that she had much to pack, as she was still semi-packed from her trip over. Feeling the jetlag leeching her energy, as the low level of adrenaline wore off from see Harry again, under the guise of Fox William Mulder, special agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, she decided she needed to turn in early. Dr. Dana Katherine Scully had a wake call at the ass-crack of dawn to answer.

Molly Weasely closed the journal, the handwriting of her daughter long faded. The reappearance of one Harry James Potter in the life of her youngest lifted a weight that she had held in her heart since she had last seen him.

He had approached her, the closest thing to a mother he had known, eyes full of pain, a hollow victory hanging in the air with the end of the war but the loss of so many friends and family, and the bodies of children strewn on the ground, one of her among them. He wanted to walk away, but he didn't want to never be found. She had gotten him to Kingsley, and sent him off with a heavy heart. It made her ache to see him suffering, the sweet boy who had approached her so tentatively for help, forced to grow up far too fast, and brought on by an agonizing legacy. Since she had learned his name, and of his friendship with her youngest son, she had counted him as one of her own. This made letting him walk away from their world so much harder, even if it was for the best.

She kept her silence in the wake of her daughter's search for him, hoping that he had would be healed by time and return to them, but the years had passed with no word, not even a whisper, and so the last time Ginny had questioned her, finally at the end of her rope, she had given in. If there was any chance of someone convincing him to come home, it would be Ginny, with Hermione a close second, and herself a strong third.

She walked over to the fireplace, clutched a handful of powder and tossed it in the flames, declaring her destination. She was told to hold on a moment, and Percy's head came through the flames.

"Yes, Mum?"

"Still at work so late?" she inquired.

His exhausted plain, he nodded. "No rest for the weary. What was it you needed?"

"I just wanted to thank you for helping your sister."

"I take it she found him then?"

"Oh, yes. Talked to him today, in fact. I hope it wasn't too difficult to get her in the door?"

"Not, as such no. Apparently, he finds trouble no matter what name he's under. Certain entities that are keeping an eye on him were looking to insert in agent of their own. I just had them steered towards Ginny's alias. I didn't like the look of the characters watching him; they have no one's best interest but their own. Ginny can watch his back."

"Until he comes home."

Percy sighed. "That may be a long time coming, Mum. The things he's involved are not to be dismissed lightly, and there are some who are more than eager to get him out of the way."

"What exactly is he involved in, Percy? What did you just send your sister into?" Her voice started to rise as anxiety gripped her.

Percy refrained from reminding her that he had done so at her behest. Despite comments otherwise from his siblings, he wasn't that thick. "She is exactly where she needs to be. If things get too dangerous, we can send in back-up to help them."

"Why can't you just get them out instead?"

"Because Harry is far too driven in his need to know anything that's being kept from him, and Ginny is too stubborn to leave without him. Short of kidnapping them, I don't see a way of talking them into leaving. And I don't fancy going wand to wand with the collective wrath of those two. I'd rather duel Voldemort."

"I see your point. But the first sign of trouble-"

"I will let you know, and send my best team. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to finish up work and head home for the night."

"You work far too much, Percy. You need to spend more time with your family."

"Which is why I'm here late tonight. We're leaving on holiday in a few days. Taking the family to Egypt, but we're going to avoid the pyramids."

"Good for you. Well, I won't keep you any longer. Good night, and give my love to everyone."

"I will, Mum. Good night." And with that his head disappeared from the flames.

Molly sighed, and toddled off to join her husband in bed. She only hoped Ginny and Harry didn't get into too much trouble.