Alan Jameson, born January second, 1827 in Dundee, Scotland to Greig Jameson and Colleen Stott. The pure-blood wizard was reported missing the day after he failed to return home to his parents, but his case had never been solved...until now.

As the next couple of hours passed, Alan's stress lessened and he seemed to be able to think more clearly. It had to be a shock to his system to suddenly be free from a century and a half of mind control. Even through becoming more lucid and less shaky, he retained his fear of the vampires. Any time there was a hint of doubt from the Weaseleys, he reiterated his willingness to do anything should he remain safe from the creatures. As ludicrous as it sounded, the family picked up that he was afraid they'd send him back to his captors.

The man certainly did not act his age. He was like a timid puppy frightened of upsetting anyone. Amidst the dread of George's own safety, it was enough to make them second-guess that the twin would ever be alright after being held by the same dark beings...if he survived at all. Molly instantly grew attached to Alan and felt immense sorrow for the man and oddly decided that though a hundred years her senior, he needed a loving mother figure.

In any case, the gravity of the case had increased tenfold. Finding Gerald would lead to finding George so the aurors needn't disobey the Minister's order to focus on the dark wizard. However, should that not have been so, Harry and Ron both knew they'd abandon their duties to find their brother. Therefore, each kept their focus on learning everything Jameson knew, rather than allow their pity for the man to overturn their mission.

It was hard to know which things of what the wizard said at first were true because of how immensely overwhelmed he was. But as the minutes passed and his mind slowed, the family was able to clue into a few helpful details.

Alan began by continuing to offer apologies with half-complaints about how the vampires used their victims. Hermione was the one that streamlined the random babblings into precise statements. It appeared that when a person was bit, they were endowed with some of the vampire's assets, hence Jameson's longevity. When the master, the one that placed the bite, died, these effects would disappear. Likewise, they would go if the curse was broken. So it looked like Alan would live the rest of his life normally as far as his aging and lifespan went.

To help him get the thoughts out of his head so he could move forward, Ginny had turned the subject to Brad, pointing out what he had done and asking how much of the vampire's power was reflected in its victim. Alan said that it all depended on the individual. He had apparently met Brad and knew he had been willingly bitten. Since the muggle wasn't fighting the influence, he became more vampiric than the usual prey that were struggling to be free again. As far as the family could surmise, someone like Jameson merely held longevity while Brad was gifted with this as well as increased strength and speed though not nearly to the extent a true vampire had.

According to Alan, Brad's bite could only control another person if his master willed it. That meant when he had bitten Gerald, it was Brad's master that then held power over the demon. The vampires called those willing to submit, subvampires or subs while those who weren't were referred to as cattle. The upside of being either was that the victim did not hold the weaknesses of vampire kind such as sunlight and the need for blood. Also, since their senses were not heightened, they did not run the risk of being overpowered in that manner.

At that point, Alan had calmed and Harry successfully pressed him to recall anything about where the vampires were. Anything at all he could remember such as a landmark or a building or even a face. He seemed to legitimately struggle with these details. He had kept shaking his head and stuttering. Finally, he said 'brick.' He then followed it by other random descriptors such as fireplace, marble, and portrait. It took a few momenta until they realized he was describing a mansion. After that, they used a visualization technique to have him look to the outside of the home and describe it as well.

Fascinating enough, it worked, but unfortunately, it could have been any old castle though he assured it was both in Romania and within the hills of the mountains. His other remembrances were equally vague. Different villages, cities, old roads... Even when it seemed that they could guess the exact areas, they were too scattered to pinpoint anything. He named places in Romania, the UK, and even parts of Asia.

Seeing that it wasn't much help, Molly recalled the name he had used upon first revealing himself, "Lacrima. That's a woman's name, right? This was the vampire controlling you?"

Alan had stilled. He nodded his head, "It's hard to picture her...but I'm trying to remember."

The wizard seemed to take comfort in Molly's compassionate nature. It looked to pain him to think of his old master yet with the mother's reassuring prompts, he managed to give a simple description of the creature...but more importantly, her full name.

Lacrima Candea.

Charlie and Ioana had been contacted directly. It wasn't much, but it was something. The longer George went undiscovered, the more the fates would not be in his favor. Neither of their Romanian contacts recognized the name or the other ramblings specifically, but they immediately set out to find more. While they were on the knowledge hunt, the aurors sent to the Minister, informing him of the evening.

With adamant requests from the aurors, Shackelbolt agreed not to arrest Alan. Rather, they decided to send him to a relocation facility. It was a place setup much like a hospital. Jameson would be isolated to the building, looked after and protected within its walls while things were worked out further, instead of being locked up and treated as a criminal.

It had already reached the early hours of the next morning by the time Alan was processed. The Weaseley-Potter-Granger family were thoroughly wiped out, none of them having been able to properly rest during the night. An hour after day broke, there was word from Charlie. However nothing really had turned out.

Ioana had been busy for several hours, getting in touch with what family was left, with friends, and various other acquaintances, but had gotten nowhere. The other dragon keeper called to tell his family this as well as that his own search had ended when he located a retired muggle records keeper who refused to help until 'a less modest hour.'

In London, the Ministry had had no file on such a name. At least not the exact name. There were several Lacrimas and a handful of Candea families, but none together, none that fit the description, and many were marked deceased. Not that that last part meant much in this case.

In the end, Molly and Ginny urged the others to try and sleep. If something should come up, they would all do best to have had rest. Especially if it meant venturing into dangerous territory. They all reluctantly agreed though it'd likely prove troublesome to relax with all that was at stake.

"Ginny?" Harry sat up suddenly in bed upon realizing his wife was no longer beside him. "Ginny?"

The auror threw the covers off of him and sprung from the mattress, head spinning around to see that the witch was not in sight. Bare feet on the cold floor, he grabbed the wand and glasses laying on his bedside table before creeping out of the room, completely ignoring that he wore nothing except his boxers.

His mind was still waking up and under the tension of current events so the wizard was more on edge than he'd have been on any other day. In his head, the threat against those he loved was too severe to think that perhaps Ginny had just been unable to sleep. That she had left her dear husband to rest while she fixed a soothing cup of warm tea.

But that was exactly what had happened.

The auror laid eyes on his wife who sat on their couch, cuddling under a blanket and sipping at her favorite brew, with the telly on low in front of her. He didn't realize how silently he had been walking until the woman jumped at the touch of his hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

"Harry! You gave me a fright," Ginny exclaimed.

"Sorry," the man whispered, leaning down to give her a peck as she twisted her neck to meet him. "What time is it?" he asked.

"It's, uh, about two in the afternoon," she answered.

"Ugh, I should be at the office," Harry groaned as he let go of her to go fetch his clothes.

"It's Saturday, hun," Ginny turned around in her seat.

"Right," the auror panted, stopping where he was, "No word, then?"

As if in response, the home's fireplace lit up and Ron and Hermione stepped into the room. The studious witch spoke instantly.

"Charlie has gotten a lead. We're all going to- goodness, Harry, put on some clothes!" Hermione interrupted herself mid thought.

"It is my home, you know," the auror retorted.

His wife had already removed herself from the cozy spot and was making her way back to the couple's bedroom.

"Anyway, we're all going to meet him now," Hermione finished just as Ginny returned with robes for her husband.

He quickly shuffled them on, piece by piece as his wife handed the items to him. They didn't bother to remove themselves from the middle of the living area, but Hermione did look away out of respect as he dressed.

"Mum and Dad are coming too?" Ginny asked after handing him the last fabric.

"No, they're staying here to keep an eye on things," Ron replied. "Something to do with being around familiar areas if George shows up?"

"Alright, let's go," the lead-auror said as he finished straightening himself.

Disapparation probably wouldn't have been their first choice for the trip as per distance if it hadn't been for the precedence of moving quickly. They found Charlie, normally collected and laid back, pacing the floor of his tiny home as he waited for their arrival.

"Good, you're here," he breathed, making no hesitation or pleasantries before twisting around to grab a broom leaning against a nearby wall. "Can you hold this for me, sweetheart?"

Hermione took the broom he held out and began inching it into her purse, "Is Ioana joining us?"

"I assume not. I haven't been able to reach her for a while," the dragon tamer informed, "She's been busy with her own search."

"Where are we heading?" Ron asked as his blood brother slid past him and his wife and toward the fireplace.

"A village called Biertan," Charlie answered, filling his palm with floo powder. "Ready?"

The others nodded, then watched the wizard call upon the enchanted flames and disappear. The four others followed in couples, as was usual, quickly throwing the soot and speaking the town's name. On the other side, they met with Charlie, in a very quiet and empty pub. The barkeep was a goblin and was the only other being in the building. He placed a heavy stare on them and watched silently as the wizards regrouped and left the area.

They found outside that the building was within the perimeter of a muggle environment. They glanced behind only soon enough to see the pub fall back under the full power of its disallusionment charm. The village itself was incredibly small and poor although seemingly well-kept. It was also quite old for it stayed with the ancient styles that the visitors had seen elsewhere in the country.

"On the outskirts, uh-" the elder Weaseley scanned the distant horizon. "Out that way. There is a property still under the Candea name from centuries ago. It's a wonder the city has not yet reclaimed it."

"And this is the same Candea?" Harry inquired.

"The same family as one Lacrima Candea that fit the description Alan gave you, yes," Charlie confirmed.

The lead auror and the older man began walking simultaneously across the street, closely followed by the rest, "What kind of property is it? A home?" Harry guessed.

"No, some manner of ranch," was the answer.

Ron sighed, "It's a start, I suppose."