"That's the fourth owl from Luc in as many days," Fleur pointed out, releasing the small brown bird to return to where it came. "We should probably respond."
Harry shrugged.
"I did respond. After the second one."
"Harry," Fleur said politely, "writing back the words 'Fuck off for a bit' isn't a response."
He sighed.
They'd been at the beach house most of the week, largely keeping to themselves. They'd gone into the muggle village a couple of times, mostly for supplies, but they'd mingled in the few shopping stores there were. He had to admit that the place had a certain charm to it, tucked away as it was, an almost bubble of peace in an otherwise chaotic world. He looked over at Fleur as she stared down at the other letter that had arrived and smiled.
He'd made up a game after the first day, one he'd not told her about but deeply enjoyed. That morning at breakfast she'd smiled at him, one of the rare true, full smiles that life so very rarely let her display. The ones that went all the way to her eyes. His breath had caught in his throat at her radiance, and he'd decided that was his new mission. He didn't have any work to do, so he might as well have something.
So he'd made a game with simple rules. Make Fleur smile as much as possible. Bonus points for bigger smiles.
It was silly, utterly silly, but there was always a small layer of sadness in her eyes if someone knew where to look. She hid it well, but they'd known each other long enough that he could see it each time he looked. It disappeared briefly when she smiled, like perhaps things would work out if she could just be happy. He'd taken it as a challenge to himself.
"That's the letter from my mum?" he asked as he finished cutting the pineapple. He moved the bowl over to where she was sitting and placed it in front of her, tossing another pineapple slice into his mouth.
"She got back to me incredibly quickly," Fleur responded, idly grabbing some of the pineapple herself. "She would love to have us and says we can come by the day after tomorrow. She's got no classes in the morning and an extra long lunch."
She looked up, her eyes wide.
"This is really good."
He nodded, grabbing another slice.
"Isn't it? The local guy selling them was telling me that they've had trouble getting good pineapple recently, but his latest batch was fantastic. He wasn't lying."
He pointed at the letter.
"Guess it's time to get back to reality, yeah?"
She looked at him and frowned.
"I can write to her and say we can't make it, if you want to stay. Or go somewhere else," she added.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "I can't sit on my hands forever and eventually it'll feel like hiding."
She nodded and chewed on her lip, an obvious sign there was something she wanted to say. Her tells were obvious to him now, though he was unsure if it was his skills of observation or her giving him obvious signs that gave him such a read on her.
"You've got something to say." It was a statement, not a question.
"You know, Harry," she started as she looked at him with unsure eyes, "it's okay to not be okay."
He looked away, unable to meet her gaze.
"We've talked a lot since we've been here, had a great time, but you're still bottling it up," she pressed. "S'mores and sex aren't going to make it go away. You're always looking out for others, but you never look out for yourself. So, it's okay to be worried about your job. It's okay to not be able to push aside what happened in the greenhouse."
He looked down at his right hand and opened his palm. The burn was gone, just a slight discolouration that he would carry with him for the rest of his life was all that remained. All that was left to remind him of what he'd done, how he'd lost himself to the visions of a dream. Fleur was right, of course, he knew that. He'd spent the entire trip ignoring what was going on in his head, continually struggling to keep the lid shut on the box he'd placed those thoughts into.
"Every time I close my eyes I see her," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I see her lifeless body, broken and brutalized, and it makes me sick. Makes me hate myself. Like I said on the beach, it makes me feel like a monster."
"But what you did was necessary, Harry," she said.
He shook his head.
"No, you don't understand," he said, looking over to her. There were tears in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. "I came to understand something after we got here. I feel like a monster not because of what I did. I feel like a monster because I know that, even if I hadn't had that dream, I'd have still done the same thing regardless. I would have still lost control. And because a small part of me thinks that, given the chance to do it over again, I wouldn't change a thing."
She walked over and wrapped him in a hug, squeezing him tightly. Her warmth spread to him and he felt her magic touching the shields of his mind, attempting to find a way in to comfort him. For the first time since they'd met he let a small bit of it in, allowing her to wash over him completely.
His mind didn't go blank, nor did he lose himself to some ridiculous lust for her physical beauty. Instead, a calming sensation settled over him, not quite fully able to engulf him, but just enough to feel as if he had a safety net. A place that would be there if he fell off the cliff he was dangling precariously from.
"When Gabby was killed," Fleur started, running her hands through his hair, "I felt like I didn't deserve life. That everything I'd earned in life was a lie, completely overshadowed by the failure to protect my little sister. It consumed me for the longest time."
"How did you break free from it?"
She leaned back, just enough to look at him, but not releasing him.
"I didn't, not fully," she revealed. "There will always be a part of me that struggles with those feelings. Especially the guilt. They'll be there when we finally catch her killer and I suspect they'll be there long after. I don't let them consume me anymore, however, because a good friend, who loved my sister with every fiber of his being, spent a lot of time making me understand that I was more than I thought I was."
She paused and her cheeks turned a light shade of crimson.
"And because a man dressed in an Auror uniform gave me a glimpse of what life beyond justice might look like, and I quite like what I saw."
A heaviness that he hadn't even known was there lifted from his heart. Not completely, but just enough to ease the burden. He buried his face in her hair and took in her scent as her warmth washed over him once more. He didn't know how long it would take to rid himself of these feelings, if they could even be removed completely, but he knew that her words would help guide him towards a place that was far brighter than the pit he'd worked himself into.
"Is it bad that I'm also worried that my dream career might be over?" he asked.
She shook her head, her face still pressed into him.
"No, it's not. You worked hard to get where you are, it's only natural to want to hold onto that."
He sighed.
"I guess if the Minister decides I'm more trouble than I'm worth I can always apply at Hogwarts. My mum says Madam Hooch is looking to retire soon, and I'm pretty good on a broom."
She laughed and stepped back from him, gesturing with her head towards the beach.
"Shall we enjoy the view for a bit before heading back into reality? You can tell me about your qualifications."
He nodded. "I'd love to."
.
.
Sirius slipped into James' office and shut the door behind him, plopping down into the chair in front of him. His best friend smiled at him.
"Tired of the well wishers already?" James asked.
Sirius sighed.
"It's like they haven't seen me spend a week in St. Mungos before," the man lamented, slouching down into the seat. "I was injured, not dead. I was out far longer after we helped those Greek blokes with the Chimera several years ago."
James laughed.
"You can't really blame them. How you ended up there is a bit unprecedented." He raised an eyebrow. "How are you feeling?"
"Oh not you too," Sirius complained as he straightened up. "Like I've been saying all day, I'm fine and ready to get back to work."
"No lingering soreness?" asked James before he frowned. "No lingering issues about seeing your brother killed?"
"Regulus made his bed. He was going to have to lay in it at some point. I had hoped he would die of old age somewhere far away and I'd never have to see his face again, but that's not what happened. Did seeing him die stir some long lost feelings or brotherly bond? No, it didn't. Regulus wasn't a good person."
"He was still your brother," James pointed out.
"How is Harry?" Sirius asked, deciding he'd had enough of the conversation.
James smiled, understanding how sensitive the subject of family was to Sirius and decided it was best if they dropped it for now. He could always bring it up later.
"He and Fleur disappeared the day he was suspended," he revealed. "Or at least, she let the bank know she was taking some personal days and he hasn't been seen in London since."
"Know where they are?"
James shook his head.
"No, though I hope it's somewhere with lots of sun and not a lot of people." He laughed lightly. "I know where he'll be today. Hogwarts."
Sirius raised an eyebrow.
"Visiting Lily?"
James nodded.
"Yeah. I suggested he owl her before he left. Seems he took my advice. From what Lily told me, she's going to spend a few hours going over some runes with Fleur and Harry is going to wander the grounds before they have lunch."
"And the headmaster approved?" Sirius asked.
"That old man owes Lily more favors than he's got names and titles," James said with a chuckle. "Even if he didn't have a soft spot for Harry, there was very little chance Lily would have given him much of a choice. You know how she gets when it comes to Harry."
"Your wife is scary."
"Don't I know it." James smiled and shook his head. "So it seems he's taking it well."
"Has the Minister said anything else?"
James shook his head.
"No, and I don't think we'll hear more." He ran a hand through his hair. "Harry's little message to Rudolphus worked as intended. When word got out he condemned his wife's actions and hasn't said a single thing since. Draco says his father was trying to gather support for a public push, but he suddenly stopped."
James looked out onto the floor and sighed.
"Now we just need to get this case figured out so I can bring my best employee back." He looked at Sirius. "No offense."
"None taken. How's that going?"
James shrugged.
"I've got Alice running down some of the information we found at the Lestrange house and half the department is working to try to correlate activities between Nott, Parkinson, Lestrange, and your brother. Whoever this Riddle person is, they've covered their tracks well, so we're going back to the basics. If we can link all of them at certain points it might help us narrow down where Riddle is. Or at the very least, shut down whatever the hell they're doing."
"And the other half of the department?" Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow.
"We've still got our regular work," James said with a tired sigh. "I stacked all the junior personnel with as much as I could, and I'm back doing some field work, but everything is going to take time."
Sirius nodded in understanding, giving his old friend a concerned look. They both knew the underlying message in that statement, the unsaid words. The longer the case took the longer Harry would be suspended, and none of them wanted that. He'd been back less than a day, but the atmosphere was different, almost strained. Everyone wanted Harry back, though none more so than James.
"Not budging on the suspension then?"
James shook his head.
"No. The purebloods are remaining quiet, but someone leaked some of the details to the Prophet. I almost got into a duel with Amos Diggory when he insisted we fire Harry after the story hit." He sighed. "Luckily, I've built up enough goodwill in the right places to push back against those who support the idea. I'm not going to have any political capital left after this, but it's a small price to pay."
He rubbed his eyes.
"Why couldn't he have become a famous quidditch player? Or something mundane, like a broommaker? At least then it wouldn't be so complicated."
Sirius nodded and stood up.
"I'll get to it then."
"You need to take it easy Sir-" James started, but was cut off.
"You focus on this Riddle thing and I'll wrangle the other half of the department with getting the day-to-day completed. I'll pull Neville over if I need help."
He gave James a determined look.
"We have to wrap this up, James. Fast. You and I both know Harry isn't going to stay idle forever, that's just not who he is. So, either we shut down this operation for good, or we're going to be dealing with him going off and doing it himself. In your own words, Harry is the best we've got, and having him working outside of the department? That's not going to make things better."
Sirius laughed as he opened the door, turning around to shoot James a smile.
"Though, to be honest, it would be kind of funny to see. He is Lily's son, and he can be just as scary as her sometimes."
.
.
Fleur raised an eyebrow.
"A gate? Really? Just a gate?"
"Gates keep things out," Harry defended as they continued to walk. "And there's wards and stuff."
"Harry, it's a school for magic. And they keep people out with a gate. Made of iron."
"Well what do they use at Beauxbatons?" he asked defensively.
"Beauxbatons is hidden by advanced magic," she informed him. "Not just tossed out into the countryside protected by a gate."
Harry turned up his nose.
"Well excuse me princess, not all of us can be quite so sophisticated."
She patted him on the arm as they made it to the gate.
"At least you recognize and acknowledge your shortcomings," she said with a smirk.
Harry looked around, frowning as he did.
"Huh, that's odd. Usually Hagrid would be here to greet me."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Who's that?"
"Hagrid is the groundskeeper for the school," he said with a smile. "He's a friend, though he has a fondness for keeping incredibly dangerous creatures and his baking is terrible."
Harry wrapped his hand around one of the iron bars and pushed, causing the gate to open. He looked around and then back at Fleur.
"It seems the headmaster has been notified of our impending arrival and made arrangements to let us in."
"That's a good thing, right?" she asked as they stepped through the gate and began making their way towards the castle.
Harry furrowed his brow.
"My luck hasn't been the best as of late, so I'm going to say that one could go either way." He shrugged. "Then again, it's about time we got a break, so maybe things are looking up?"
They walked in silence for several minutes until the castle came into view. He kept glancing at her throughout their walk, taking in her reaction to the grounds as they moved along, noting how her eyes widened as the large, imposing complex came into view.
"This place is a sight to behold," she said, causing Harry to smile. "The grounds are so peaceful and the castle looks quite grand."
He nodded.
"It can get a bit drafty inside during the winter months, but it's always felt like something special to me." He pointed towards the left side of the castle. "Over there is the quidditch pitch, and on the opposite side is the greenhouse."
"I almost came here in my last year of school," Fleur said.
"Really?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
She nodded.
"Oui. Madam Maxime told me they were trying to get the Triwizard tournament back up and running. Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. They could never come to an agreement all three schools were happy with, especially around the contents of the tasks, so the idea was scrapped."
Harry scratched his chin in thought as they kept walking, looking down at Fleur.
"So we could have met much sooner in life."
"It's possible," she replied with a shrug. "Though I was a much different person back then, as were you, I'm sure."
"Nah," he said humorously, "I was still incredibly charming and dashingly handsome."
Fleur rolled her eyes and pushed him gently.
"And very modest, I'm sure."
He laughed and stepped away from her, jumping around animatedly as he began waving his hands dramatically.
"Just picture it," he said with a flourish, "you, the lovely French Beauxbatons maiden. Me, the roguishly handsome Hogwarts student. The Beauxbaton delegation arrives and the feast begins. You, not caring for British food, seek out something that makes you think of home. You spot it, and walk up to my table and ask…"
He stepped behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.
"'Sorry, are you vanting ze Bouillabaisse?'"
Fleur stopped and folded her arms across her chest.
"I would not have sounded like that," she protested.
He laughed and continued walking.
"Yes you would have, and it would have been frustratingly adorable. Anyway..." he continued, ignoring her growl as she caught up with him. "All of my friends and I would have turned to you, captured by your words."
She raised an eyebrow.
"And what would you have done?"
"Easy," he said as if the answer were obvious, "I hand you the dish because I'm immune to your Veela magic." He winked at her. "And because Bouillabaisse is terrible."
"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," she threatened before her brow furrowed. "You are quite unaffected though."
Harry shrugged.
"Yeah, now. Back then I probably would have just muttered something incoherent and Hermione would have handed you the food. I suspect you have it tightly under control these days, and all Aurors have to learn Occlumancy before they can go out in the field. Anyone who goes undercover has to undertake more extensive training." He shuddered briefly. "Neville wasn't interested in undercover work so Moody taught me a lot more than him."
"Was the training that bad?" she questioned. "You always talk about this Moody person as if he tortured you, yet the name doesn't seem to make anyone angry."
He shrugged.
"In the eyes of the Ministry, what he put us through was pretty close to torture."
He held his hands up as her eyes got wide.
"I promise, It wasn't bad. Well, it wasn't that bad. It's like this: years ago the Ministry was reviewing all their training procedures and they decided that the regimen for new Aurors was excessive. Moody trained newbies like every exercise was life or death, and a lot of people washed out of the program. So the Ministry decided to make a new program, declaring the old one obsolete. Neville and I were the last ones to train using it."
She looked at him thoughtfully, and he could tell she had more questions. Everyone always did. Moody was a legend in the Ministry, renowned both for his prowess in the field and his ruthlessness in the training room. Harry learned a lot from the old, potentially-crazy man, so he would never speak a bad word about him, but he understood why people from the outside would question his methods. To him though, there was no replacement for the training Moody had given him.
Even if he'd given Harry some nasty scars.
As the castle doors came into view they saw two people standing in the archway. He waved at them.
"Looks like our luck is holding up." He nodded towards the two figures. "That's my mum and the headmaster. I'll get the headmaster alone and ask him my questions while you distract my mum for a while."
Fleur nodded.
"Sounds like a plan."
Harry smiled as they reached the doors and Lily launched herself at him, wrapping him in a tight embrace that he returned enthusiastically. She smiled up at him as they broke away.
"It's good to see you Harry," she said softly. "I was glad that you took up your fathers invitation to come visit me."
"Figured you could use some good company at lunch for a change," he said with a smirk. "And I brought a guest."
He looked over to the headmaster, watching knowingly over his half-moon glasses, and smiled, sticking out his hand.
"It's good to see you, headmaster."
Dumbledore smiled and shook Harry's hand.
"Harry, my boy, it's good to see you as well. It has been quite some time. You look more and more like your father each time I see you." He looked over at Fleur before looking back at Harry. "I don't believe I've met your companion."
"Headmaster, this is Fleur Delacour," he said with a smile. "Fleur, this is Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, and Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow as he exchanged greetings with Fleur.
"It seems time has not dulled your cheek, Mr. Potter," he said with a smile. "It's quite refreshing."
"Yes, well-" started Harry before stopping. "Wait, it is?"
Dumbledore laughed and nodded.
"Yes, quite so. Very rarely do I get the pleasure of anyone making fun of me, though your mother is quite good at it," the older man said. "Ms. Delacour, I'm glad you could join Mr. Potter today. I get the feeling you are the more responsible of the pair. Especially considering your talent for charms, as I hear it."
Fleur's eyes widened.
"You've heard of me, sir?"
"Indeed," said Dumbledore, "Lily has spoken about your brilliance several times. It's always good to meet a fellow lover of academics." He clapped his hands together. "But alas, I am not here to intrude upon your visit. I was on my way to the lake and shall leave you alone."
"Professor," Harry said, stopping the headmaster from leaving, "I've got a few questions for you, if you wouldn't mind me joining you. I've found myself with a bit of free time and I'm doing some research on a personal project. I was hoping I could get your thoughts while I'm here."
Dumbledore nodded.
"I'd be delighted, Mr. Potter. Come, join me."
Harry nodded, then turned towards Lily and Fleur.
"I'll be back in a bit. We'll have lunch when I get back." He began walking with this headmaster, throwing a wave at them.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he called.
"Well that leaves very little," muttered Dumbledore humorously.
As the two walked away, Lily turned back to Fleur, gesturing for her to follow into the castle.
"Come on dear, we can wait in my office. I've actually got something I think will interest you."
Fleur nodded and the two walked in silence for several minutes as the younger woman took in the sights of the castle. It was a stark contrast to Beauxbatons. The worn stone and rustic armor sets like night and day compared to the French school's white marble and statues.
"What has my son roped you into, if you don't mind me asking?" Lily said, breaking the silence.
"Excuse me?"
Lily laughed as she opened a door, holding it open for Fleur to enter. They stepped into a wide classroom and made for the small office at the back.
"I know my son, Fleur, and I know his situation," she continued. "He's still investigating the case, isn't he?"
Fleur stopped and looked at Lily, trying her best to keep the shock off her face. She'd underestimated Lily Potter's perceptiveness. Either that, or the older woman had instincts that were shockingly accurate.
"What makes you say that?" she tried.
Lily chuckled as she called for a school elf.
"Bring us some tea, please?" she asked.
The elf nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Lily."
"Once Harry sets his mind to something there isn't anything that can stop him," she explained, gesturing for Fleur to sit as the tea appeared on the table. "A suspension isn't going to stop him from trying to find the truth."
She picked up her cup and sipped it before looking back at Fleur.
"His father is the same way. James would take the suspension and just keep looking into things on his own, damn the consequences." She sent Fleur an apologetic look. "Sorry that he's roped you into this."
"It's quite alright," she said, bringing the cup up to her lip. It was jasmine tea. She smiled, wondering how the Potter matron knew it was her favorite. "I offered to listen and let him vent."
Lily sighed before taking another sip of tea.
"Thank you," she said sincerely, "I promise I won't tell James. Normally I would, but knowing you're watching out for him makes me feel a lot more at ease."
"It does?"
Lily nodded as she stood up.
"Of course, dear. You're a talented witch Fleur, and more importantly, good for my son. I have no doubt you'll keep him from jumping into something stupid. Or at the very least, jumping into something stupid without someone there to watch his back. Now enough of that."
She walked over to the small desk on the other side of the room, motioning for Fleur to join her.
"Take a look at this, I think you'll find these runes interesting."
.
.
"Where's Hagrid, sir?" asked Harry as they made their way in the direction of the lake.
"Ah, Hagrid received an invitation from Charlie Weasley to visit the dragon reserve in Romania," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I made arrangements for him to go. I'm sure he's having the time of his life."
"Who's teaching his classes?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he smiled mischievously.
"I am. Though I have been told the lessons are a bit less…dangerous without Hagrid. I have yet to figure out if that's a positive or not."
They walked in silence for a short while until they reached the lake.
"Is there a problem with the giant squid?" Harry asked.
"Not that I'm aware of," replied Dumbledore. "Why do you ask?"
Harry shrugged.
"You said you were on your way out here, so I figured there had to be something."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he smiled.
"Oh no, nothing of the sort. I like to take a walk around the lake when I'm puzzling out something. The atmosphere helps clear my mind."
Harry couldn't argue against that. He remembered spending time under one of the trees near the lake, doing homework or coming up with new plays to run in the next match against Slytherin. There was something about the waters of the normally calm and serene lake that put him at ease. Helped him concentrate. He'd never seen many others around, but it was good to know someone else got the same benefit.
"You said you had a question, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, breaking Harry's concentration.
"Oh, right," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I was wondering if you could tell me about an old student."
"Perhaps. Do you know their name?"
"His name was Tom Riddle," Harry replied.
The old headmaster made a thoughtful sound as they walked, staring out at the lake in contemplation.
"Where did you hear that name, if I may ask?"
Harry shrugged.
"The name came up in my research, but all it said was that he was English," he tried, though he could tell the old man didn't believe him.
It didn't matter if he believed him, not really. If he could point Harry in the right direction then that's all he needed. More would help, but this was their best shot at getting closer to Riddle.
"I suspect," Dumbledore said, looking at Harry with a knowing smile, "that this inquiry is more than mere academic."
"And if it is?" asked Harry.
"Well that entirely depends upon why you're making the inquiry." They stopped next to a small tree and looked out over the lake. "I'm aware of your current situation at the Ministry, Harry. What happened was tragic, but your suspension was necessary. As was your father's directive not to do any work."
Harry bit his lip, trying to think of what to say. How do you ask the most powerful wizard alive to help you without revealing the reason why? He was the head of the Wizengamot for Merlin's sake! There's nothing stopping him from going straight to the DMLE and telling his father that he was still investigating. Still looking.
So he made a split-second decision.
"Sir, if you were working on something that you suspect had the potential to ruin a lot of lives, but you'd been told to step back, what would you do?"
Dumbledore stroked his beard as he contemplated the question.
"I suppose I would keep working to keep as many people safe as I could. Regardless of what I'd been told." He looked at Harry with a smile. "That's what separates good people and people with real good in their hearts. Their inability to let others suffer can be both their downfall and their salvation. Only time determines which it is."
"That's kind of where I'm at, sir."
Dumbledore sighed and motioned for Harry to continue walking with him.
"Tom Riddle was a brilliant young man who came through these grounds under terrible circumstances," he started. "I don't use the word brilliant lightly, either. In all my years, I don't think I've ever seen a student with more raw talent and gift for magic enter the school. He was charming and incredibly persuasive. Top of his class, a prefect, and even Head Boy in his last year."
Harry nodded, but didn't interrupt.
"Sadly, Tom Riddle grew up in a…tumultuous world. He entered Hogwarts in the wake of the defeat of Grindelwald, and he held many of the same views on muggles that nearly tore all of Europe apart less than a decade prior. He'd managed to get his hands on some of Grindelwald's writings, and seemed to take them, in some ways, as holy texts."
He sighed again, and for a brief moment it wasn't the wise headmaster standing next to him. Rather, he saw an old man with a lifetime of regrets weighing him down. Just as quickly as the look entered the headmaster's face it was gone.
"After we confiscated the writings in his fourth year, I made an effort to look into him. Tom Riddle was born in a muggle orphanage."
Harry's eyes went wide.
"He was a muggleborn?"
"I thought so at first," Dumbledore admitted, "but once I looked into his family history I realized he was a half-blood. His mother was a witch. I wasn't able to find what happened to them, but I kept an eye on the boy after that. Attempted to get him to open up to me. Provided him with advanced texts."
"And what happened?"
"He was happy, or as I found out later, was very good at making it appear as if he were happy. His thirst for knowledge was breathtaking, and his approach to magic was downright stunning. He'd ask questions even I had never thought to ask. He could look at a problem and come up with a solution that was so out of the box that it was admirable. I thought the Grindelwald business had been put behind him when he talked about joining the Ministry. He said he wanted to be an Unspeakable. Unfortunately, while cleaning the Head Boy suite after the students left the elves found a page from one of Grindelwald's manuscripts tucked between a loose brick on the mantle."
"You think he fell back into the works?"
Dumbledore shook his head sadly.
"I think he never left them, but rather, got better at hiding it."
"So what happened to him?" Harry asked.
"He disappeared after he left school," explained Dumbledore, "I learned later he worked at Borgin and Burke in Knockturn Alley for a time, but then he completely vanished, as if he never existed. None of my associates in the ICW have seen anyone matching his description, and I'm sure they'd know if they had. The young man's talent was undeniable and he was incredibly charming. Check the Head Boy and Head Girl records in the library, you'll find his picture there. You can see his personality in his eyes."
Harry scratched his chin. By all accounts this sounded like the guy they were looking for. Incredibly charismatic and persuasive with a gift for magic. Perhaps he was suave enough to get a bunch of proud pureblood witches and wizards to follow him? Get them quick results, make them gold within a short period of time to hook them in, and then you'd have them doing your bidding. Yet why had he disappeared?
"Grindelwald had a lot of ideas," Harry thought out loud as they found themselves coming back up to the castle. He hadn't even realized they'd turned around. "His manuscripts are filled with big ideas, but incredibly light on details of how he would achieve those ideas. So which ideas did Tom Riddle latch onto?"
Dumbledore shook his head sadly.
"Grindelwald's hatred of muggles, sadly. I suspect his time in the orphanage directly correlated to his opinions on muggles. I believe he later expanded those opinions to muggleborns. Like Grindelwald, Tom Riddle was incredibly charismatic, getting many students to begin to question if maybe the dark lord was onto something."
"You're saying that he had followers at the school?" Harry asked.
"I'm saying that purebloods didn't always hate muggleborns with such passion," the old man said as they made it back to the entrance to the castle. He looked at Harry. "Grindelwald was like a match that sparked something. Tom Riddle fanned those flames with influential families just enough that, in the time since he was in school, more anti-muggleborn legislation has been introduced in the Wizengamot than any other time in history."
They entered the castle and the headmaster fixed Harry with a thoughtful expression.
"People like the Potters, Longbottoms, and Sirius Black have fought to change that, and they're slowly making progress." He gripped Harry's shoulder and squeezed. "Harry, my boy, I say this with the utmost importance: if whatever you are looking into involves Tom Riddle then do not underestimate him. I shudder to think of what he might have become had he gotten access to certain magics that should never be used."
"Be careful, Harry." His eyes lit up and he smiled. "Ah, I do believe I've come up with a solution to the problem that sent me out to the lake in the first place. Thank you, my boy."
With that he turned around and headed towards his office, leaving Harry alone in the entrance with his thoughts. He'd need time to process it all, perhaps even nick his dads pensieve to view the memory again, but they had far more to go on now. Enough to move forward in some way, but the headmaster's warning made him pause.
Tom Riddle was a dangerous man, and Harry wasn't sure what they'd find when they caught up with him.
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They sat in his flat, a half-empty box of pizza on the table as they ate and discussed options.
"That was a big risk, letting Dumbledore know like that," Luc said with his mouth half full of pizza.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Harry and Fleur said at the same time. They exchanged looks and laughed.
Luc swallowed his bite of pizza and glared at them.
"Gee, thanks mum and dad," he shot back, taking another bite of pizza just to annoy them. "Seriously though."
Harry nodded and rubbed the back of his neck.
"I know, but it was calculated. I knew he wasn't going to give me anything unless I gave him a reason too." He finished off the remaining crust of his pizza, chewing it and swallowing before continuing. "Dumbledore is a good man, and what he said to me makes me think he won't tell anyone."
"Lily knows," Fleur said.
Harry whipped his head around and stared at her, wide eyed.
"What? How?"
Fleur shrugged.
"She knew you were investigating the case before we got there. She told me before we went over some incredibly fascinating runes. They help with-"
"That's interesting, and I'm so happy you find that interesting," interrupted Luc, "but let's skip the nerdy stuff and get back to the part where the wife of the Head Auror knows what Harry's doing."
She shrugged again.
"Like I said, she told me straight away after Harry and Dumbledore left."
Harry put his face in the palm. This was not ideal.
"Well my dad will know soon enough," he muttered.
"I don't think so," Fleur said.
They both looked at her, confused.
"She said she wasn't going to tell James," she said.
Harry shook his head.
"She's leading you on," he countered. "My mum and dad don't keep secrets from each other. It's one of the things I know about their relationship that has never changed in my entire life. Those two talk. About everything."
He narrowed his eyes and looked at Fleur again.
"What else did she say?"
"That she trusted me to keep you safe and not go off on your own." She sent him a smug look. "She called me a talented witch."
Harry groaned and put his hand back in his palm.
"Oh sweet Merlin, this is bad."
"Sounds like we're in the clear," Luc pointed out. "I don't see a problem. Unless you're saying your mum lied."
Harry shook his head and looked up, a distressed look on his face.
"You've met my mum, what, twice now?" he asked Fleur.
"In person, if you count the night we destroyed their house. We've done a few floo calls though."
"Two times and she's already taken a shine to you," Harry lamented.
Fleur raised an eyebrow.
"I don't see the problem?"
"She never likes the women I date," Harry said, causing Luc to laugh and toss a piece of crust at him. "Merlin, she's probably planning our wedding."
"I like purple lilacs," Fleur teased as she took another bite of her food. Harry glared at her.
"Well, not that I don't find Lily Potter's opinion of Harry's dating choices fascinating," Luc said, "but we need to decide on what we're going to do about the information Dumbledore provided us."
Fleur wiped her mouth with a napkin and conjured a glass of water, taking a sip before clearing her throat.
"We stopped by the library before we left. I copied the page that had his photo," she said, reaching into her robes and pulling out a rolled page. She handed it to Luc and he unrolled it gently.
"He's quite handsome, I'll give him that," he said. "Riddle was probably very popular with the ladies."
"Riddle isn't a wizarding name I've ever heard of," she pointed out, "so it's probably muggle. Perhaps we've been looking at this the wrong way."
Luc nodded, catching on to what she was getting at as he lowered the picture.
"Right, so maybe we need to track his family down in the muggle world. Or his records in the muggle world," he offered, reaching for another slice of pizza. "Really wish we had an intern right now."
"Why?" asked Fleur.
"Because research kind of stinks," Harry whined. He nodded towards Luc. "See if you can find the records from the orphanage he stayed at. He had to be registered somewhere."
"You know those aren't public records, right?" asked Luc.
Harry rolled his eyes, picking up his wand and waving it around casually.
"Are you a wizard or not?"
Luc shrugged and Harry turned to Fleur.
"You and I can hit up the muggle library. They keep digitized copies of old newspapers. We can try searching for mentions of the family between the years he started Hogwarts and now."
"That's a large time frame to look through," she pointed out.
Harry shrugged.
"Then I guess it's a good thing I'm currently unemployed."
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Fleur sighed and placed her head on the table.
"You do this for a living?"
"Yep," Harry replied, popping the P at the end for emphasis as he clicked the button to move to the next screen.
"And you actually enjoy it?" she asked, flabbergasted.
"Yep."
"How?"
Harry shrugged and Fleur read the paper on the screen, scanning the contents for any mention of Tom Riddle. They'd set up camp at the library for several days, and after a brief demonstration by the helpful librarian on how to use the archive program on the first day, they'd started searching. Paper after paper. Without stopping. It was, in Fleur's estimation, just about the most bored she'd ever been.
"The research part might be a bit dull," Harry said, "but all of this work usually leads to me busting in on a bad guy and catching them with their hand in the cookie jar. It's a rush."
"It's boring," Fleur responded as she continued to scan the pages, sighing as she clicked the button to go to the next paper. She glared at the screen. "How does this stupid thing not have a search function?"
Harry laughed, so she turned her glare to him, causing his smile to instantly fall. Good.
"They just scan the newspaper," he said, "what you're looking at is basically just a picture."
She raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to scroll through the newest pages.
"How do you know all this?"
He shrugged again.
"My uncle Remus showed me how to use a computer years ago and my uncle Peter used to take me to the library when I was a kid. I liked to read when I was growing up, and my mum encouraged me to read whatever I thought sounded interesting."
She hit the button to move to the next paper and stopped, brow furrowing in frustration. She clicked the buttons to move backwards and forwards several times.
"There's an entire year of papers missing."
"Really?" he said, looking over at her screen, his own face breaking out into a frown. "Maybe ask the librarian?"
She nodded and got up, walking out of the room and into the main section of the building. Rows and rows of bookshelves lined the floor, all containing books of various types and genres. She approached the desk and smiled up at the man as he turned towards her.
"Hello again miss," he said. "Are you and your friend finding everything okay?"
She nodded.
"Yes, for the most part, but we've hit a bit of an issue," she said. "I was going through the records and noticed there was an entire year of missing papers."
He sighed and nodded sadly.
"Yeah, I figured that would happen eventually. The library used to keep papers at all the branches but there was no centralized system," he revealed. "About twenty…twenty five years ago there was a run of bad luck. Break ins and fires mostly, but we lost a chunk of the physical archive back then. They recovered what they could, and many community members donated what they had, but some of the older stuff just never got digitized."
Fleur frowned.
"Could it be possible that you might still have the physical copies?" she asked.
The man nodded and pulled open a drawer. He retrieved a key and handed it to her.
"There's a door in the room you two have setup in that leads into the physical copy room. Lots of laminated papers, though mostly just front pages, but there are some full copies in there." He chuckled. "It's gonna smell kind of stale in there, so apologies, but feel free to take a look. Like I said, most of what's in there is just laminated front pages, but have at it."
Fleur thanked the man and returned to the room. Harry looked up at her as she made her way towards the door at the corner of the room.
"Where are you headed?" he asked.
"They have physical copies in here," she replied as she turned the lock and opened the door. The light above flickered to life as soon as she opened the door. "The librarian said we might have some luck, though from the look of it we're going to be here a while."
Harry shrugged and turned back to the monitor.
"Who knows, maybe it'll be the first thing you find? Start with the year you're missing and go from there," he called to her as she disappeared into the room.
A short while later he heard footsteps running towards him and Fleur burst back into the room, slamming a laminated page onto the table next to him. Peering down at it his eyes widened in shock at the headline.
Grisly Triple Homicide At Local Manor
In a scene reminiscent of a horror film, police were dispatched to the local Riddle manor in Little Hangleton late yesterday night, after a local reported horrible screams coming from the property. What they found has left the community both shocked and puzzled, as the bodies of wealthy businessman Thomas Riddle, along with his wife Mary Riddle and their son Tom Riddle Sr, were found. Police have yet to comment, but reports have indicated there were no signs of a struggle or forced entry.
"Sweet Merlin," Harry whispered as he reread the headline, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his chin. "You think Riddle went back and killed his muggle family? The date on the paper puts this murder not long after he left Hogwarts."
Fleur grabbed another laminated page she had stuck under her arm, though Harry could see that the top of it was partially burnt and torn. She looked at the bottom half of the page.
"Listen to this," she said, "There's a followup two days later. 'Police have issued a statement saying that they have a suspect and are currently working to apprehend them. When pressed for how they have a suspect so soon, the police provided a photo of a message written on the wall within the manor.'"
She held out the page so he could read the message on the blurry photo.
YOU CAN HIDE IN PLAIN SIGHT AMONG THE DIRT, BUT NOT FROM ME
"That's a lot of anger right there," Harry said softly as he narrowed his eyes. "I've seen similar things."
Fleur raised an eyebrow at him.
"How often?"
"Not too often," he said as he rubbed his cheek. "Usually with crimes of passion where the perpetrator has a deep grudge against the victim." He pointed at the page. "This seems to line up with what Dumbledore told me. This probably happened after he left Burke's employ. He tracked down his muggle family, killed them, and then disappeared."
"But why?" Fleur asked. "Why go through all that trouble to murder muggles? Why leave the message?"
"Riddle grew up hating muggles. It's not out of character that he'd go after his own muggle family. Especially his family, if he felt they'd wronged him," replied Harry. "Grindelwald tolerated muggleborns as a necessary part of society, but he thought muggles were a stain on the whole world. Not a leap to think Riddle was of the same opinion."
Fleur bit her lip as she stared at the photo. She studied the dark letters on the wall as her mind turned over the implications in her mind. To hate your family so much was unfathomable to her. How had life and the words of a mad man twisted someone so much? And what about the message? Hiding in plain sight among the dirt? Did the dirt refer to muggles?
Fleur's eyes widened as she stood quickly.
"That's it!" she said, whirling around to look at Harry. "That's the answer."
"What is?" asked Harry.
She pointed at the screen.
"You can hide in plain sight among the dirt," she read again. "What do you think that means?"
Harry shrugged.
"My best guess is that dirt refers to muggles. So he probably tracked down his family, who were muggles and living among muggles, and murdered them."
She nodded.
"Exactly." She rubbed her forehead, unable to stop from mentally chastising herself for not seeing it sooner. "Don't you see, Harry? We can't find Riddle because we've been looking in the wrong location. He's not in our world, he's in the muggle world!"
Harry nodded slowly, though he nodded faster as the realization dawned on him.
"Hiding in plain sight," he whispered. "That's…actually a really great way to remain hidden from witches and wizards."
He looked up and locked eyes with Fleur.
"Let's find Luc and fill him in. Seems we'll be spending some time with the muggles."
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AN: Thanks for reading!