Harry had been studying the photograph of the American metal band for a considerable length of time. Three men, appearing to be in their twenties, wore all black clothing and stared at the camera nearly emotionless.

The man on the left had his dark hair cut short and molded into tiny spikes with red tips. He wore straight jeans and a t-shirt with a logo Harry didn't recognize. His skin was of a medium tone, and he appeared to be mildly overweight. The member on the right wore something that appeared to be a suit, but since the entirety of it was black, it was a bit hard to tell. His skin was light. He had a prominent jaw and a defined nose. His wavy black hair was thick and reached past his shoulders. Both of them had dark eyes that were probably brown.

But it was the person in the middle that he had been focused on the most.

This third man stood several inches shorter than the other two members, and was the only one with light colored eyes- icy blue spheres, but with dark eyeliner around. Medium length hair a platinum color adorned his head, a swatch of it reaching down to his eyes. He, too, wore black jeans and t-shirt, but with a casual vest hanging over. Despite a strong nose and jaw, his features were soft and his skin was ghostly pale...Harry wondered if he wore makeup to achieve this affect.

Gerald Davis. That was his name. Harry had come to know wizards can live much longer than muggles, but this? This man was fifty years his senior and somehow managed to look even younger than him.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice sounded worried.

"Hm?" Harry mumbled, barely looking away from the picture for a second.

"You've been looking at that photograph for the better part of an hour..." the witch placed her hand on her husband's shoulder.

Harry then shook from his thoughts, "I'm sorry," he smiled, "It's just..."

"It's unbelievable!" Ron spoke through his food, "But fascinating though, isn't it?"

"Ronald!" Hermione slapped the redhead on the shoulder.

Harry stifled a chuckle. At any other time the scene would be comical to him, but right now he was too enthralled with this discovery of the mysterious wizard that he couldn't help to be anything other than solemn.

"He's right," the auror mused.

Ginny and Hermione exchanged concerned glances and Ron even stopped shoveling food into his mouth long enough to join them in watching Harry. It had been three years since the final battle at Hogwart's...since the day of Voldemort's destruction. It seemed that the wizarding world had just started to move out from underneath the cloud of horror and death the dark wizard had brought upon them. But then this...

Harry had only recently established himself as an auror. When he had gone into the Ministry that day, he was met with a notice to see the Minister of Magic at once. Over the years, Harry had grown a keen sense of knowing when something was wrong and the feeling had hit him the moment he read the message. As he entered the minister's office, the doors locked behind him, he knew that he had been correct.

"Harry, good morning," Kingsley Shacklebolt greeted without warmth.

"Good morning, sir," Harry smiled nervously.

There was a brief silence as Shacklebolt took his seat and rustled through a small stack of papers. He grabbed a quill and started scribbling on one of them.

"You wanted to see me?" Harry prompted.

The minister sighed, "Yes, well," he inhaled sharply, "I've just received word from the Magical Congress of the USA that we may have a dark wizard in our midst...a previously unknown death eater even..."

"A death eater? in America?" Harry was stunned.

The minister grabbed one of the papers he had been fiddling with and passed it to Harry. It was a portrait of three young men dressed in black. Harry scanned it quickly, looking to see if any of them had exposed left arms. Only the man on the left did and it was bare.

"I don't understand," the younger wizard continued, dropping the picture back onto the desk. "How have we never heard about him before now? If he is a death eater, surely-"

"One of the other death eaters would have given him up for their own pardon?" Shacklebolt suggested, "Yes, that was my thought as well. However," he dropped his quill and put his finger on the man in the middle of the photograph, "MACUSA assures us that this man was not only involved with the dark lord, but that he is also the only living relative of Gellert Grindelwald...his son."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He picked the photograph back up and stared at the man, "How did they come about this information?"

The other wizard leaned back in his chair, putting his hands together in his lap, "The president has sent copies of their records detailing that Gerald Davis was born to Gellert's wife only days after they first arrested Grindelwald. Fearing for her and her child's safety, she went into hiding. The two were found several years later. Gerald had been raised without any knowledge of the magical world," the minister paused to be sure Harry was following, "Even though this was satisfactory to the congress, they insisted a trace be put on the boy. He continued through his teenage years just as oblivious. When he turned eighteen and the trace broke, representatives of the congress were sent to assess the situation, but they were never able to find him or his mother."

Shacklebolt stopped and picked up a glass for a long drink of water. Harry could tell the man was flustered which was unsettling in itself. His hands were shaking and he didn't offer a drink to Harry as he normally would. The auror waited patiently for the rest of the story.

"Almost a decade ago, they found him again. Gerald had apparently continued living a muggle life. After becoming some sort of musician, a wizard happened upon his work and mentioned his name to an older wizard who then relayed it to MACUSA. Gerald was investigated. No magical items or artifacts were found in his things. When questioned, he claimed that before his mother died, she told him about magic and who his father was, but that he had never learned witchcraft and had continued to live as a muggle."

"And they just believed him?" Harry stated more than asked.

Minister Shaklebolt sat up and pointed at the picture still in Harry's hand, "Oliver Smith, the man to the right of Gerald, is a wizard from Dunsfold. He corroborated Gerald's story, saying that Gerald had no wand and did not know how to perform magic. For the last seven years, MACUSA has not had any trouble with Gerald and therefore no reason to disbelieve his story."

"Until now," the auror observed, lowering the photo and looking intently at the minister, "Why did MACUSA share this with us? If he's in America-"

"That's just it," Shacklebolt interrupted, "They can't find him...or Oliver Smith. They've spoken with others the two work with, but nobody has seen either of them in a week."

"Have they been reported missing?" Harry inquired.

"The third man in that photograph is their closest companion. He has said that both his friends are safe, but refuses to share their whereabouts."

Harry had looked down to the picture again, "Is it not against the law for him to withhold this information?"

The minister sighed, "He's a muggle. I'm not sure how the congress plans to proceed."

"Do you think they've come here? To Dunsfold?" the younger man was looking at his elder once more.

"I don't know, but the president of MACUSA seems to be leaning towards believing that outcome."

Harry nodded.

"You'll share this information with Ron and nobody else," Minister Shacklebolt's eyes were hard upon Harry's, "We don't want to start a panic before we know more about this entire mess," he returned his gaze to the papers before him.

Harry had gone home early that afternoon. He invited himself and Ginny over to Ron and Hermione's home. There he had shared what had happened with the whole group: something Kingsley certainly saw coming.

"So we need to see about finding this Oliver fellow, yeah?" Ron's mouth was crammed with bruscitt.

"Yeah," Harry finally put the photograph down. He placed his hand atop Ginny's which was still resting on his shoulder. Giving her a smile, she returned it, leaning in for a peck on the lips.

Ginny picked the empty plates from the table, grudgingly leaving her brother's behind. Hermione, however, snatched Ron's plate and went with Ginny to the kitchen in the next room. The two quickly returned, but neither to their seats.

"Come, Harry, let's go home. I want to spend some quiet time together before I have to leave," Ginny had walked behind her husband and was rubbing his shoulders, "You will watch the boys while I'm gone, won't you?" the witch smirked at Hermione.

"Of course," Granger chuckled, tugging at her husband's shirt, gesturing for him to see their guests off.

Harry had taken hold of Ginny's hand again and was grinning at her. "We'll all be fine. You just focus on winning your Quidditch matches."

Harry stood up and walked hand in hand with his wife to the door. Hermione pushed Ron up and the couple followed.

"Dinner was excellent," Ginny offered, turning around as she reached the door.

"Thanks," Ron, who had done nothing to help prepare the meal, said, earning another smack on the shoulder from Hermione.

"You be careful on your trip," the disgruntled witch smiled to Ginny while simultaneously glaring over at the redheaded boy.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Harry," Ron spoke.

"See you then," his partner replied.