Disclaimer: None of the recognizable bits are mine.
A/N: Sorry about the long wait. Things have been crazy to say the least. The next two chapters are all written though, so hopefully not such a long wait next time. I cant promise much at the moment. I am on what was planned as a vacation to spend time with my family, and my Grandma in particular (she was recently diagnosed with Leukemia and I wanted my kids to spend time with her before she passed) unfortunately I received word that she had died at home the day before my flight and never got the chance to see her. It has broken my heart.
Anywho…this chapter had a good deal of humor and a confrontation. I do hope you all enjoy.
To all the reviewers out there: THANK YOU! Thanks as well to everyone who sets alerts and favorite this story, it means a great deal to me. Additional thanks to Poison-Quills who does a fabulous job with the beta work on this story. *curtsies*
On with the story.
* fresh new lily *
There was a husband and wife listed on the itinerary that seemed to fit. Same initials anyhow and they had only booked a one way flight and only checked one bag. Even without the initials lining up Harry would have looked into the pair as the most likely candidates. Raymond and Valerie Wheaton seemed too much a coincidence not to be them. Besides there didn't seem to be very many other possibilities. Most other couples flying together had round trip tickets purchased with something called frequent flier miles or credit cards. Raymond and Valerie Wheaton were the only passengers who had paid cash at purchase, it was a common mistake. Often making it difficult for pure-bloods and other fully integrated wizards to pass easily in the muggle world where cash was a seldom used form of payment.
Harry knew he would have to work fast. His first order of business would be to check and see if Raymond and Valerie Wheaton had booked additional flights or if they had intended on staying in New York. Harry looked out the plane's window into the night to the brightly lit skyline before him as the pilots voice came over the intercom and the seatbelts lights turned on.
"We here at British Airways want to thank you for flying with us this evening. We shall begin our descent shortly and have entered into United States airspace. The weather on the ground in New York is a comfortable twenty degrees Celsius or sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit with a light breeze in the air. For those of you that are returning home we hope you have had a pleasant trip and those of you just flying in for business, or vacation if you are lucky we do hope that you enjoy your stay in the States, and in New York if this is your final destination." The pilot went on to thank his crew and go over customs regulations before informing them of the terminal and baggage information as Harry tuned him out looking at the beautiful sights in front of him. He remembered how much Ginny had said she loved what she had been able to see of New York when the Harpies had played there over the last winter.
Maybe we can come out her as a family over the summer. Though maybe Teddy's still a bit young for air travel, and I don't know that he would care much for the city. There isn't much he can do. Oh well, in a few years maybe. It does seem really cool from up here. I do hope we can just be a family now, I know she says she will stay home, but I am almost too scared to hope. I need her now more than ever, we all do. How did shite get so bolloxed up? Frankly I would rather take a knee to the goolies than be tracking my own best mate, but here I am. I can't believe that I let myself get so wrapped up in my own little world I didn't notice this shite going down. Terrible bloody friend I am. Don't notice when everything goes to hell in a hand basket if I'm not at the center of the storm.
A sudden bout of turbulence had Harry gripping the arms of his seat in a vice grip jolting him out of his thoughts. It would have been amusing to any of his friends to see him so scared of a little turbulence in the plane. Though flying in a plane is not the same as flying on a broom, where he was in complete control; versus flying on this big hunk of metal and mechanics that he knew nothing about. Other than when they crashed they killed lots of people, and there was no stopping above the ground to hover after a nose dive like some Wronski Feint. A nose dive in a plane meant certain burning death. Suddenly the planes wheels touched down and Harry was in New York.
.
Harry didn't bother to go after his baggage right away. Using a similar ploy as the one he had used at Heathrow, Harry was able to discover that a Raymond and Valerie Wheaton of London had booked a one way flight to Las Vegas that was currently en route and due to arrive shortly. For some reason Harry found himself momentarily surprised that they would go sightseeing. If they hadn't planned on being followed so soon it wasn't that much of a shock that they had spent a few days exploring the city, as he presumed had been what they had done, before flying to Las Vegas.
In the end Harry knew it would be easier for him to fly. He doubted that if it was indeed them they would move on right away, if they moved at all. There was nothing to indicate that they hadn't decided a place like Los Vegas wouldn't be the ideal place for a fresh start. He wasn't sure exactly where the wizarding district was in New York, and mentally chastised himself for not picking up a wizarding map of The States before he left London. Using a floo would be problematic, and apparating to a place he had never been seemed insane. So as it was he booked himself a flight to Las Vegas the following morning, not finding an available seat that night. Frankly he wanted to get some real food and sleep on an actual bed preferably.
With a plane ticket for United Airlines tucked securely in his luggage harry stepped out of the airport and was immediately assaulted by a sea of yellow cabs. Deciding it truly was his best option he hailed a cab and allowed the chubby dark man who stepped out of the cabs front seat to place his bag in the trunk while Harry slid into the backseat.
When the cabbie was once again seated behind the wheel he turned to look at Harry and opened a window in the Plexiglas separating the front and back seats. "Where to?" he asked simply with an accent that reminded Harry of a mobster movie he had seen glimpses of at some point in his childhood as Dudley watched while stuffing his face with popcorn and sweet cakes.
Harry managed to smile at the bit of memory from his past. "Not quite sure, really. I just need a decent place to stay for the night, nothing too ritzy but not some ramshakled place either you know. Just uh…comfortable. I'm just in town till morning, flying out first thing, but I could use a decent night's sleep and a good meal," he told the cabbie, hoping it would be enough information to get him somewhere decent.
The cabbie nodded his head rather enthusiastically. "Take yous to the Sheraton, nice place. Lots of yous visiting business types want me to take 'ems there. Nice restaurant bar too. 'Sides, you'll a be jus' fi'teen minutes from Manhattan so's if you wanted I could wait for you to check in and then take yous into town so you know…yous can see some o' 'da sights while's you're here." he suggested in a less than subtle attempt to raise his fare.
"Thanks, the Sheraton will be fine I am sure. As for your offer to wait I do appreciate it but I think I may just check out that hotel bar. Honestly a walk into Manhattan sounds nice, after such a long flight it would do me wonders to walk and stretch my legs. Thank you for the suggestion though," Harry said, doing his best to sound diplomatic. It was funny to think that while he had honed his diplomacy skills in the wake of the war when it came to the people he loved it seemed he still had little tact.
"No problem," he said his accent drawing out and distorting the word problem to Harry's ears, sounding more like no praaablm. "Yous should see if theys got one of them city guide things in the lobby." Again Harry noticed that his o's came out sounding more like a's. He was happy to know that English seemed to be horribly butchered everywhere and Hermione might actually think he spoke it well comparatively, now if she could hear it from the cabby.
Thinking so randomly about Hermione brought Harry's thought crashing back towards reality and why he was in New York to begin with and he suddenly felt less chatty or concerned for the cabbies accent. "Yes, thank you. I will be sure to do that," he said automatically before settling into silence for the remainder of the ride to the hotel.
When the cab stopped outside the Sheraton Harry agreed that it was nice without being too posh or hoity-toity looking. He hoped it would be moderately priced, though in the end this would all be a paid work trip. He stepped out of the cab and the driver went to get his bag for him. Harry paid the fare, not bothering with getting change knowing that the ministry would cover the cost. It was something he always did when he travelled. Harry also made sure to get the cabbies information and told him that there was another tip in it for him if he was there to pick him up in the morning. Harry had long ago found that a nice attitude and a decent tip went a long way to getting help when he travelled. Usually it allowed him to rely less on maps and internet cafes that he wasn't all that comfortable with, even having been raised a muggle.
In the end Harry found he wasn't in the mood to venture out. It had been a long flight after a long week and instead after he had checked in, deposited his bags, and used the loo, he headed to the bar, had a few drinks, and some bar food that was frankly greasy, and delicious as far as Harry was concerned.
It was almost depressing to be in such an amazing place and not be able to take a gambol around the city. He was rather depressed as it was with all that had happened and sleep seemed to be the best idea he could come up with. After his fourth Jack and Coke on the rocks he made his way to his room and collapsed onto the queen bed. Which if he had taken the time to think about he would have noticed was much nicer than what he currently had at home.
When the alarm went off the following morning Harry woke feeling groggy, jet-lagged, and all around crummy. His eyes were grainy feeling and he had to wash his face before even attempting to put on his glasses. Stumbling on the way to the bathroom without the aid of his glasses; once again cursing the shortcomings of the wizarding world. He knew that there had to be some wizarding equivalent to laser eye surgery, even if the thought of it gave him the heebie geebies. Harry washed his face and brushed his teeth and it helped to wake him up a little. Though he was in desperate need of a coffee and knew that the little single serving pot in the room, that he thankfully knew how to operate and set to auto the night before, would only get him so far.
After having found more coffee in the hotels restaurant and grabbing a quick breakfast, Harry checked himself out of his hotel and sat in lobby drinking his fourth cup of coffee. He hoped it would help with the jet-lag while he waited for the cabbie from the night before to pick him up and take him back to the airport, where he would board a plane to Las Vegas, Nevada.
Harry had slept the whole flight, and while it wasn't as long as intercontinental transatlantic flight. It was still a few hours of sleep that he needed, although, it didn't help with his jet-lag. About fifteen minutes before touchdown a flight attendant shook him on the shoulder lightly causing harry to draw his wand in reflex.
"Sir! Please, calm down," the blonde woman who had shaken him awake ordered. "Sir, please, put that down. I was just letting you know that we are about to land," she said, working to handle the situation as a figure came up behind her.
"Sorry, I just got a little jumpy it's been a long few days," Harry tried to reason not really releasing his iron grip on his wand but lowering his arm so that the wand rested against his lap.
Suddenly from behind him a hand clamed around the wrist of his wand arm and a very calm cool voice spoke into his ear. "Drop it sir. There's no need to threaten the flight staff. What is this thing anyhow?" the male flight attendant, who had come to help from another part of the plane, asked calmly.
Harry did as he was asked, knowing better than to put up a fight on a crowded plane. "It's for nerves. I don't fly well, and it's just a stick for me to twiddle and keep myself distracted. I didn't mean to scare anybody, honest. I'm just…I suck at flying and it's been a horrible week, my sister was raped and lost her baby and I should have been there, but I wasn't and now I'm here looking for the guy and really I didn't mean any harm I just…Sorry, I'm jet-lagged and emotionally wasted really didn't mean to give her a fright, just a little stick, look," he blabbered on, still half asleep and working to defend himself as best he could knowing that he needed to be sure he didn't lose his wand if nothing else.
The flight attendant looked over his wand and realized it was indeed a stick and nothing more. Slowly he handed him his wand back and told him to just try to remain calm for the rest of the flight. Then he walked away and started laughing, muttering something that sounded like "crazy Limey jackass…who has a stress stick? What is a stress stick?"
Harry looked to the flight attendant who was still standing a bit awkwardly next to him and sheepishly smiled at her and apologized again, "sorry."
"It's fine sir. Just please buckle up. We will be landing shortly," she told him curtly as she continued down the aisle making sure everyone was buckled for landing.
It was no time before Harry was in yet another cab heading to another hotel. This time deciding that if Ron and Verity were indeed in Vegas they were most likely on the strip. He simply asked the cabbie to head towards the bright lights and decided he would figure it out when they got closer.
Harry was bright eyed looking at all the huge hotels with wild themes. The Luxor's huge pyramid fascinated him as did many hotels, but the sight of a castle caught his eye and he asked the cabbie to take him there. It looked fun he thought, after living in a castle for so many years. Soon enough Harry was in a surreal costumey medieval world that all seemed to remind him of Sir Nicholas, or Nearly Headless Nick as Harry would always think of him. The more he saw on the way to his rooms, all the posters, and people in period costumes dressed like knights the more Harry wanted to go out and have some fun. It was tempting to drop his bag and find a show or hit up the casino floor. He had to keep saying Hermione's name in his head to remember why he was there. As a couple passed him on the way to his rooms and looked at him sideways, he realized he had likely been muttering Hermione's name under his breath. He was tired and felt run down and selfishly wanted a bit of fun. He wanted to find Ron, but he just felt like things were so tense if he didn't blow off a bit of steam he would explode. It was more than just things with Hermione and Ron. He had all but been a single dad since the war, with a job that ran him into the ground, and he was starting to feel like he wasn't himself anymore and he needed a bit of fun.
In the end, when Harry got to his room he went into his bag and pulled out his little potions kit. He knew that if he could get the locater potion going it would need six hours to simmer then he could get out and relax a bit. He really hoped that he could have a little fun, then once it was ready use the potion to track Verity, and also Ron through her. He wanted to be the one to bring them in. He knew that when this story hit the Daily Prophet people would be out for Ron's blood. After all, Hermione was the poster girl for the side of the light after the war.
I just want all of this to be over. I don't know why I let myself be so blinded all this time. I just didn't want to admit after everyone else I lost I was losing Ron too. Hermione hasn't been herself in years, not that any of us have really, but she'd gotten so lost. I can't believe I am actually hopping that she ends up with Snape. Even I can see the git cares about her, and at least he would be loyal and wouldn't hurt her. I don't know anymore. This is all so wrong. Why did I push them to get married? Molly was bad enough without me pitchin' in. They never were quite right together, 'Mione's not Molly, and frankly that was what he wanted, Molly with boobs. Well Molly has boobs, though I don't think Ron ever notices that. Oh gods, why did I notice that? When did I notice that? It's just they are so big and her jumpers are tight across her chest, and then that apron sits…Oh fuck harry snap out of it, bloody hell she's your Mother-in-Law not to mention like what thirty years older…not that age really matters. AGGGH! Why am I still defending this train of thought, it's just, wrong. Focus Harry. Potion first, then you need a drink. A bloody big drink.
Harry was working hard to clear his mind of images of Molly Weasley's heaving breasts. Harry set up his mini heat source and lit a flame before casting an 'aguamenti' filling the small iron cauldron with water to three quarters full. He then pulled the ingredients he had packed and prepared before he left. Harry was surprised how adept he had become at potions since his sixth year. The confidence boost his scores had given him that year had certainly helped him to realize that if he simply followed instructions to the letter then he would be fine. He just needed to leave experimenting to people like Hermione and Snape, he may know that if he did what he was told it would work, but he couldn't begin to explain why.
Once the water reached a light boil harry added six daisy stems sliced down the middle into quarters and two diced livers from a Horned Toad. Twenty two and a quarter stirs in a counter-clockwise motion brought to potion base to the appropriate muddy color while retaining a consistency much like Au Jus. Quickly he dropped in three runespoor eggs, which as always were difficult to find, but being an Auror had its benefits and there had been an arrest of a black market potions supplier in the last year. The department still kept plenty of what had been seized; using it when they could, rather than having it destroyed, to cut costs. After a few more stirs the potion was again looking right for this stage, taking on a murky green color. Harry moved ahead and added two crushed Scarab Beetles quickly followed that with two small drops of Acromantula venom, and then proceeded to stir fifteen times in clockwise pattern. The potion bubbled a bit, almost sputtering before it shifted to the appropriate teal color with a consistency close to that of the nectar of guava.
"Perfect," Harry breathed. "Now I have six hours to get back here and add the blood and hair. That should be enough," Harry was suddenly very happy for the muggle timepiece Hermione had gotten him for his birthday the year before last. He set himself a timer that would go off with an hour to spare and then count down the remaining time for him. Hermione had thought that the watch was cute and quirky. A 'Bomber' watch that counted down to the big event for you. It was ridiculous usually, though it was cool looking and mechanical with all sorts of little dials on it. At least for this, it would actually come in handy with the annoying little countdown.
Harry quickly changed into a simple pair of black fitted boot cut jeans and black short sleeved shirt, remembering how hot it had been when he stepped out of the cab earlier. With his black jump boots that were fairly standard Auror gear and his dark tousled hair he looked a bit like a muggle rocker. Well if you forgot the glasses. Once he was more comfortably dressed he grabbed up his wallet with his muggle money, that had been transferred to US dollars, and headed out of his hotel to walk the strip.
Harry hadn't been walking long when a woman dressed in a hot pink sequined mini skirt and what looked like a jeweled black bra approached him. She handed him a postcard with her picture on in and a phone number claiming that she was always up for a wild time. Harry nearly choked.
"Like what you see hon'?" She asked him with an accent he couldn't place other than to think it sounded trashy, not that that was much of a shock given her occupation.
Harry was still half shocked and all he could think to do was stammer at her. "Uh... Yeah, very…uh…nice… Must be off," and as quickly as he could Harry stalked off down the strip. He decided he needed that drink soon he ducked inside a one of the hotel casinos, not bothering to pay notice to which one.
Stepping into the grand lobby of the hotel and casino, Harry was immediately struck with awe at the sight of the coffered ceiling that seemed to be sprouting gigantic abstract glass flowers that reminded him of a field of multi colored poppies. It was breathtaking even to someone who was usually clueless about art and culture. Everywhere he looked signs and huge posters proclaimed that he was apparently at the Bellagio and that if he wanted he could see Cirque du Soleil. Frankly he didn't care where he was. This place looked as good and flashy as any should, so he headed off in search of a bar and the casino looking for some fun.
Harry had been slowly slinking through the casinos main floor, watching as little balls spun on wheels and people shouted and laughed as they won their bets. Everything looked so interesting, and a bit of it all looked complicated but when he came upon the craps tables he stopped and watched for a while. He thought that the game was reminiscent of an old English game called Hazard. Everyone seemed to be having a great time and after a few minutes watching Harry made up his mind and joined a table.
Harry was on a roll. He was also a couple of Long Island Iced Tea's in and feeling great. He felt lucky playing shooter throwing the dice and was on a great winning streak. After a few hours at the table Harry was up a ton of money though he wasn't really paying enough attention to his ever growing pile of chips to notice. A cute girl in a sparkling silver dress had taken to kissing the dice for Harry and he was starting to really feel like a Rock Star. It was odd, being the Chosen One he always had a flock of people around him and fan girls chasing him and it drove him crazy. He hated it, but this little crowd was cheering him on because he was a guy on a roll, and it felt fantastic.
Harry rolled again and the table erupted into cheers people were patting Harry on the back and girls were flirting shamelessly chanting his name. He was having a great time, and for a little while he was able to forget all the drama and pain that had brought him there in the first place. That was until he heard a familiar voice say his name.
"Harry?" Harry looked up into the startled face of the very person he was searching for. He instinctually gripped his wand which he had been wearing on a wrist holster with an invisibility charm woven in. As subtly as he could he cast a 'Notice Me Not' charm and a 'Muffliato' so that they wouldn't draw too much attention.
Ron looked twitchy. Harry could hardly think of another way to put it. He was sweaty and had a small tremble visible in his hands and some of the small muscles of his face. Harry wondered if he was strung out, or going through withdrawal; either seemed a possibility looking at the man standing off to the side of the craps table. "What…what'cha doin' here Harry?" he asked nervously.
Harry smirked at Ron. He was trying to keep his cool even though his pulse was racing. and he was suddenly itching to hex his old school friend as memories of Hermione's broken body lying on a hospital bed flashed through his mind. They mingled with visions of her naked at the bottom of the stairs covered in blood like Snape had described finding her. "Lookin' for you mate," he said, working hard to keep calm. Looking around he noticed that Verity was nowhere in sight. "Where is she Ron? Where's Verity?" he asked, trying to keep the situation under control knowing they were surrounded by muggles and Ron was seriously unstable. Also, Verity was a wild card and that had him on edge.
"She's using the loo, wasn't feeling all that well. Why are you looking for her? You just…you leave her out of this Harry. I know that bloody bint wife of mine sent you. It's over okay, she can go off with George or whoever and just leave me the hell alone. I don't care, someone else can deal with her prude, stuck up, better than everyone attitude. I don't want her. I've got V and were having twins," he said shakily, the tiniest bit of pride creeping into his voice when he told Harry about the babies. It was the venom Harry heard when he talked about Hermione that Harry hardly recognized him.
"Twins Ron? You almost killed 'Mione. You killed your baby mate. You had a daughter, they buried her last night. What the bloody fuck happened to you Ron? We were best mates you and me, and now…I don't know you," Harry said sadly, knowing that there was no saving him. No matter what Verity had done to him, no matter what drugs he had been on, there was just no coming back now.
Ron actually laughed at him. "Pffftt. Likely wasn't my kid anyhow. Merlin knows the bitch never gave it up. And we haven't been best mates in while or haven't you noticed? It isn't like you have time for anyone anymore, too busy raising a dead werewolf's kid aint 'ya Harry? So don't go getting all high and mighty Mr. World Savior on me now," Ron said darkly.
Harry couldn't believe this was the same person who he had met at Kings Cross when he was just a boy of eleven. To insult him was one thing, but to hear him so callously talk about Remus that way was not the Ron he knew. "Ron, I'm sorry I haven't been around, but that's no excuse mate. You know I've got to take you in. I don't want to, but I have to Ron. Come on, we were like brothers once. Hell Ron, we are brothers and I wish it wasn't like this but it is. Let's not make this any harder okay. Just…let's go outside," Harry continued to try and reason with a growingly agitated Ron hoping he wouldn't have to immobilize him here. Slowly he stepped closer to Ron, but Ron kept slowly backing away. They had gotten a decent distance from the Craps table Harry had briefly been king at, not even thinking about all of his winnings, when he had Ron standing in front of him.
Harry had managed to back Ron a significant distance away from the main gaming area. He was feeling like he may actually get Ron out of there and away from the muggles before things started to get really dangerous. Harry wasn't stupid enough to think that Ron was going to go with him without a fight. While he knew that he would be able to best Ron in a duel, they were in the middle of a muggle tourist mecca. The casualties could be great, not to mention the issues they would have mass obliviating a horde of muggles witnessing a duel in the middle of a Las Vegas casino. He was trying to keep it together but his nerves were running high. He was frankly well on his way to drunk, Long Island Iced Tea's packed a bigger punch than he had expected. Even for a wizard. He had already been there for four hours or so knocking back drinks and enjoying his winning streak when Ron popped up. Things were under control for the most part though. Ron wasn't fighting, and hadn't moved for his wand, which Harry would bet he was keeping tucked into the waistband of his jeans.
It was all looking like it might be okay until a shrill voice cut through the air. "Raymond! What are you doing?" The vicious domineering voice of Verity, who had been going by the name Veronica, cut through the casino.
At the sound of her voice Harry turned to look at her giving her a glimpse of who Ron was talking to so nervously. She, unlike Ron, wasted no time and had no qualms about creating havoc. Before anyone could blink she had reached up and pulled one of the two sticks seeming to hold her hair into a stylish twist. Then with deadly accuracy and lightning speed sent a 'Reducto' curse right at Harry's feet blasting a large hole into the floor and sending Harry flying.
No 'Muffliato' would be able to cover up the scene of destruction. Luckily no one had seen her shoot the curse, but all throughout the casino people were running and screaming that there was a bomb in the building. Harry was able to right himself and crouched behind a table that had been upturned in the chaos just in time to see Verity and Ron running the opposite direction. Harry couldn't lose them now. In a desperate attempt to catch them he did the one thing he could think of, and cast 'Congelo Moenia Vicis' which he had learned in Auror training. It was a complicated spell and took a lot of energy to cast, which is one of the reasons it was seldom used. It essentially froze time for all non-magical people. He hoped it would give him the chance to chase the two and get a spell or two off to stop them before the time stopping spell wore off.
Harry wasn't even surprised to note that dozens of people in the casino were still moving about a little confusedly in the face of all the frozen muggles. What did surprise him was the shock of blonde hair moving quickly to his side.
"Potter, can't you go anywhere without bringing attention to yourself?" Draco's words were sarcastic but carried none of the hatred they had in years past. Surprisingly after the war the former enemies had forged a tentative friendship. Draco ended up working in fashion, and was the man Harry suspected George was seeing. He knew he was gay and George loved his Wiz Couture line.
"Draco, not really a good time to play catch up. Either help me bring down Ron and Verity or shut up and stay out of my way," Harry shouted, never bothering to slow down or take his eyes off the backs of the couple he was pursuing.
Suddenly Draco was running beside him with a bewildered look on his face. "Haven't got a clue why you want to take down your sidekick Potter, but I have wanted to take the weasel down a notch for years. Do you really have to ask? Let's go," Draco proclaimed with a laugh.
The two hit the emergency exit doors just seconds after Ron and Verity. As soon as they were open Verity was shooting curses off at them. Harry was almost stunned to see that she was fighting instead of apparating away until he remembered her pregnancy. He knew from Hermione's pregnancies that apparation early on could cause miscarriage. He hadn't even taken his hand off the door when a slicing hex cut him across the side but he tried to ignore the pain. Harry quickly shot off an 'incarcerous' at the deranged witch leaving Draco covering his back with Ron.
He wasn't even sure where Draco had come from. Though when Verity managed to hit him with a strong 'incendio' that burned the side of his face badly and completely blinding him in his left eye, he couldn't have been gladder for the coincidence or the odd friendship. Verity's magic was strong, boosted by her pregnancy, and fueled by her hatred. Harry was already slowed down from the spell he had used inside and just couldn't get the drop on her. He managed to nearly hit her with a stupefy but he was playing it too safe, knowing that she was carrying twins. She easily blocked his spell and with a snarl sent another slicing hex his way that with his vision so impaired he had trouble dodging. The curse hit him in the leg but the location couldn't have been worse. It nicked an artery and the blood loss was detrimental, deadly if he couldn't stop it soon.
Draco was forced to stop his duel with Ron. Neither had been in great shape, Ron was still shaky and Draco was well on his way to pissed. When he saw Harry go down he knew he needed to stop the bleeding or Harry would die. He shot one last failed 'Petrificus Totalus' at Ron and dropped to Harry's side where he immediately began to work to stitch the wound together. He literally stitched it, with silver thread that shot out the end of his wand with a long sharp needle. Draco wasn't adept at healing but the man could tailor a garment impeccably. It was the best he could think of to stop the bleeding, but he knew it wouldn't last. Once the wound was decently closed he dragged Harry off to a darkened corner of the alley they found themselves fighting in and finding a crushed can on the ground created a portkey to the local Wizarding district. Draco had three shows and a new shop opening over the weekend. Within minutes of Harry getting injured they were gone but so were Ron and Verity.
A/N:Well, thoughts? I do hope you enjoyed it, and thank you all for sticking with me on this story.
'Congelo Moenia Vicis' – freeze man's time
* fresh new lily *