Birds in My Ears and a Devil on My Shoulder
Part One
Chapter Two: Exaggerate and Trick Me
The first thing that Ginny was aware of when she woke up was incredible pain. Not the worst pain she had ever experienced but more than she had felt in years.
The next thing she noticed, when she was a little more awake was that she couldn't move. At least, not much.
Her arms were pinned to her sides and her ankles were cuffed to the end of what she had to assume was a metal table.
It took everything in her not to panic.
She needed to remember her training on being captured. Granted, she had thought the training was silly at the time – after all, at the end of the day, she was a researcher. She occasionally had to handle hazardous situations and dangerous creatures, but she always assumed that they would kill her outright, not chain her down to a table.
Ginny started to slowly move her wrists to see if there was a way out of this, keeping her eyes closed.
"Ah, you're awake," a familiar voice said.
She kept her eyes shut.
"There's no use in trying to hide it," Sam said, some amusement in his tone. "Sleeping – or, unconscious people don't move like that. If you are in fact, people, Red."
"That's not my name," she snapped, opening her eyes.
"Why don't you tell me your name, so I can call you by it?"
Ginny clicked her jaw shut.
The hunter laughed. "If you won't answer that question – why were you following me?"
"What are you going to do to me if I don't answer?"
She could see his face but the chilly silence was enough to make her flinch. Just a little bit.
All of sudden, she found herself being shifted. The table moved from being horizontal to completely vertical so that she was in a mock standing position. Thankfully, her feet hit the floor so her arms didn't take the brunt of holding her upright. Even though putting weight on her leg that had been shot hurt.
"Sorry for tying you down like this," Sam said, not sounding apologetic in the least. "We had to remove the bullet. This was the safest place to have the operation. My cousin is quite good at stitches – I think you'll heal without a scar."
Ginny glared at him. They had performed Muggle healing on her? If she wasn't already in a state near panic, that would have gotten her there.
"Now, we've done the standard tests on you. Silver, salt, holy water. If you were an angel, my bullet wouldn't have wounded you. Samuel did some sort of ritual that I'd never seen that confirmed that you haven't made a demon deal for powers. Now, you could be a psychic. But that doesn't explain how you were able to take out an entire pack of Shapeshifters. Without a scratch on you."
Ginny didn't find that she needed to respond to any part of that monologue. She supposed it was good that they had done the tests but it was worth more than her life to tell a hunter what she really was. Or, at least, her magic. She was pretty sure they'd snap her wand for it.
Wand! She thought.
As subtly as she could she touched her fingers to her wrist to see if she could cajole the wand out of its holster.
"You looking for this?" Sam asked, holding up her wand in front of her. "You dropped it when you fell. It's fascinating. Samuel wanted me to destroy it but I'd rather dissect it." He closely looked at the wand and moved as though he was going to snap it in half.
"No!" She couldn't stop herself.
He raised an eyebrow. "So, this isn't just a piece of wood?"
She grit her teeth. "Why don't you give it to me and I'll show you?" She could always obliviate him. If she had her wand…
Sam chuckled. "Nice try, Red."
"SAM!" An angry voice said behind him.
Sam's attention snapped to his grandfather. "I'll be right back." He walked out of the room. She could hear them arguing in the next room over, but couldn't make out anything they were saying.
At this moment, Ginny wished she had learned proper wandless magic. She knew it was possible – she had seen Harry do it many times. She knew that she was a powerful witch. But when she had tried in the past, it had been unreliable at best. The spells either came out too strong or not at all. She had never been able to master the middle ground.
She didn't have the chance to decide what she was going to do before Sam came storming back. He looked pissed off and, although she would never let it show on her face, it was scary.
"Change of plan," he muttered at her. "I gotta take you out of here." Before she could question it or act in defense, he took a strange Muggle implement with a pointy end and jabbed her in the neck. Her world went black.
III
Two Days Earlier
"But how can there be any sort of Quidditch emergency? And you're officially retired! They shouldn't be able to ask for you to come back at all." Harry asked her incredulously when she returned to their hotel room that evening.
She flinched a little at his tone. For all his speeches about her "safety," she knew that he disapproved of her fake career. "A waste of incredible talent," he had told her. And, for the most part, Ginny agreed, but it wasn't like she could tell him everything.
"I don't know. Gwenog's owl didn't specify."
Gwenog Jones had long retired from playing Quidditch but she had used the Galleons that she had earned while playing to buy the Holyhead Harpies.
"And it can't wait three days?"
No, Ginny thought. I'm going to have to be on surveillance 24/7 for however long it takes. Even taking the time to come back here and give her excuses to Harry was a waste of her time.
"Apparently not. She wanted me back in the UK yesterday but the owl took so long to find me in this Merlin-forsaken country that I just got the message while you were out. Look – you didn't want me on this trip in any case. This way you can get back to your meetings and not be worried about my safety the entire time that you're in them. Maybe you'll actually get something accomplished this way."
Ginny could see the cauldrons in his head churning. And she knew him well enough to know what the real problem was – which was that he liked to not only know where she was at all times but in close enough proximity to reach her should she be in danger.
Oh, if only he knew.
They fought constantly over his overprotectiveness.
She knew where his concern came from but she had grown up with six older brothers and a mother who all always considered her a "little girl." Being possessed in her first year had not helped.
But she was an Unspeakable – and a damn good one, and she didn't need anyone's protection.
Especially not Harry Potter's.
So, they argued. Vicious verbal barbs led to angry sex that led to neither of them speaking of the argument again until the next fight.
The sex was great. But she wasn't aiming for that now. She needed to get back on her case. And before she could even do that, she was going to have to meet with Abispa and Neville and explain everything she had learned so far.
It seemed that Harry didn't want to argue any more than she did.
But he still looked upset.
Moving over to him she pressed her body against his and kissed him deeply. "I've had a lovely holiday. But we only have one official day left anyway, and it doesn't look like you're going to have any of that free time you thought you were going to have."
He sighed after she pulled away. "But you'll be over-seeing pre-season training starting next week. And then you'll start your new job. It could be weeks before we get any time together again."
"We're just both so busy and important, Mr. Potter," she said teasingly. But it was time for her to pull out the big guns. "But you know that I'm retiring partially so that we can have more time together. The next couple of weeks will be busy, but after that, I've got a new job. And who knows – maybe it'll be so boring after Quidditch that I'll finally do what Mum wants and stop working altogether and become a full-time housewife."
He looked at her with amusement. "You're assuming an awful lot there, Ms. Weasley. First, you don't even have a proposal yet. Maybe I'll have a torrid affair and leave you penniless."
"And then I'll announce that you left me while up the duff. You'll lose all public support."
His face was serious but she could see the crinkle of laugh lines on his eyes.
"Well, then, I guess I'll have no choice but to marry you."
"Nice try. I haven't said "yes," yet."
She wondered if she was going to have to do more to cajole him, although their usual banter was putting him in a better mood about all of it.
They had no plans to marry. Not that they would ever tell her mum that. Both of them felt like they were too young and their relationship. Even though their relationship was volatile at times, it was far simpler and easier than having to face a public breakup. Ginny couldn't even imagine trying to date in England with Harry as her ex and war heroes for brothers and friends. At the same time, getting married meant pressure to have children and neither of them was sure they wanted that. Marriage would just complicate things.
He sighed again. "Alright, I'll allow it."
She hit him with a stinging hex. "Like I was asking permission."
"Go on, then, Ms. Weasley. I'll see you soon enough."
Ginny grinned. She gave him one last kiss and practically danced out of the room.
Between the "emergency" and the start of her new job, he wouldn't expect to see her for weeks. And she was confident that they could wrap all of this up by then.
III
Neville learned years ago that Ginny was a brick wall when she really set her mind to something. He knew that it was unusual that they had been paired together – normally people who knew each other outside of the Department were not permitted to be partners. But the higher-ups had the misguided idea that he could reign Ginny's rashest impulses in.
Joke was on them.
Or really, on him.
Still, there was no one else he'd prefer to be partnered with. Ever since they were running the DA together at Hogwarts things had always…clicked between the two of them. He respected her independence and she took him seriously in a way that no one else had. She was the sister that he had never had.
Which meant that he loved her but she also had a very special way of getting under his skin.
She flounced into the diner that she had insisted they have breakfast at, half an hour late.
And then proceeded to tell him all about her evening of breaking nearly every rule in the book.
"Abispa said no contact," he chided her, having read both the report she had submitted as well as the real account that she had written in code to just him. It was something they had agreed to years ago. No secrets between the two of them.
"Technically, there was no contact between us. I didn't touch him," she said with a grin as she picked at the streaky bacon he had pre-ordered for her because the waitress looked annoyed when he had initially said that he needed to wait for her to arrive.
"You know what no contact means."
She shrugged at him. "Yeah, well, wait until you see him. You'll understand why I couldn't resist."
"See him?" he asked, alarmed.
"He should be here in…ten minutes or so. He stopped by here yesterday for coffee since it's right next to his hotel."
"Ginny…"
"I haven't even told you the best part. I think there is way more happening here than we realized. Last night, after Sam had left the warehouse to go get the truck, I stuck around for a second and a demon came and spoke with Samuel."
Neville took a deep breath. It was bad enough knowing that there were demons in this country, it was worse knowing that Ginny had encountered one. Neither of them were authorized to handle demons. They were so far away from being authorized for that kind of work he didn't even know where they would have to climb on the ladder to get to that level.
"What happened?"
"I don't know. I couldn't hear what the demon was saying but Samuel looked scared. And trust me, there isn't much that man is scared of."
Great, a demon that a hunter of Samuel's caliber is scared of.
"I know what you're thinking – but this is a big breakthrough. You said that you thought the symbol was demonic right – what if the demons are working with hunters to bring all these Mundies from all over the world to the US?"
"That sounds like it's above our pay grade."
"It sounds like the exact sort of excitement we've been missing out on. Come on, Neville, we have a chance to really make a difference here. This is the reason we joined the Department."
He held back a groan. Because she wasn't wrong. And part of him was very excited – this was confirming something he had been secretly investigating for months. This revelation might tip the scale of evidence to turn what he had convinced himself to be paranoid delusions into something solid. Something tellable. Ginny, of course, could read him like a book and just grinned at what he was sure was a face somewhere between excitement and dread.
Despite what the Department thought – the reason he and Ginny worked together so well wasn't because of his abilities to reign her in or not – they egged each other on.
And together, there wasn't much they couldn't accomplish. They were just…better together.
"What kind of demon was it?"
"No idea. But it was like it apparated in and I don't think there are many demons who can do that."
"Last I checked there were no demons that could do that."
"Well, that's what you get for falling asleep in Introduction to Mundies."
"Some of us got far more difficult assignments than others. I had to train for Quidditch at the same time I was training to be in the Department."
He teased her about it but Neville knew that Ginny was the hardest working Unspeakable in the Department. For her first couple of years, she not only held down two jobs but also "worked" full-time as Harry Potter's Girlfriend. Which was more than just being the partner to the most famous man in the wizarding world but also being a public figure herself.
He didn't think that she got more than five hours of sleep a night (on a good night) for her first five years.
Without a shadow of a doubt, he knew that he would crumble under that kind of pressure.
"It means that he is likely a crossroads demon," Neville relented. "A very highly ranked one."
Her face made a perfect, "oh" of surprise.
She looked like she was going to say more on the subject, but before she could, there was a tingle of the bell on the door and she looked straight over his shoulder.
"Quick, pretend like I said something funny," she instructed him.
It wasn't hard for him to pretend – he chuckled lightly but loud enough for the sound to carry over to whoever had just walked in the door. He hoped it wasn't Harry – he wasn't sure that his friend even knew that he was in the country.
It wasn't long before a very large and looming presence made their way over to the table.
"Is this why you didn't call, Red?"
The tone suggested harmless flirting but Neville didn't like it one bit. He gave the man, who he recognized as Sam Winchester a look up and down. The hunter was huge and he immediately made Neville ill-at-ease. Not because of his size. But because there was no warmth behind his voice or eyes.
Ginny wore an expression that he had seen many times. He called it her dealing with idiots expression.
"Despite our scintillating conversation, I'm afraid you just don't do it for me, Agent."
Neville was prepared for a fight. This man was dangerous but he was pretty convinced that he and Ginny could take him – without magic.
Sam Winchester tilted his head slightly. "Your loss. We're leaving town after breakfast, so it was a one-night-only deal."
Ginny snorted and stirred her coffee.
"Sam, come on, we don't have time for this," the older man who had walked in with the hunter said. "I'm very sorry for bothering you folks," he said as he started to pull Sam away from the table.
Sam looked like he was going to protest but he just gave Ginny one more leering look that Neville very much didn't like before heading out.
"I'm afraid that's taken my appetite," Ginny said to him, loud enough for the two men to hear. "Let's return to our road trip, honey."
It took everything in Neville not to roll his eyes. He threw some bills on the table and the two of them got up and left. He could feel Sam's eyes on them the entire time.
III
"What the hell was that, Sam?" Samuel asked him as soon as the hot redhead and her possible boyfriend left the diner.
Sam looked over at him and shrugged. "There's something about her."
"Yeah, she's pretty, but keep your head in the game."
"It's not just that."
"No?"
Sam shook his head.
"Do you think she's a monster of some sort?"
Samuel was occasionally dismissive of him because he thought that Sam didn't have the years of experience that made a truly great hunter, but, at the very least, he trusted Sam's gut instincts.
"I don't know." He didn't mention the red hair he found at the scene last night. It seemed like too big of a stretch to share. "But there's something about her," at Samuel's frown he continued, "more than her looks and accent. Doesn't she have an…otherworldly feeling to you?"
Samuel huffed. "I've only seen the girl for a minute. She seemed like an ordinary woman to me. Her boyfriend didn't look too impressed with you."
Sam had barely noticed the man. He was too busy trying to decide if the woman's hair was the same color as the strand he had found.
"I think it might be worth sticking around here to find out more about her."
Samuel gave him an exasperated look. "Christian called this morning. He thinks we have a lead on some wraiths in Minnesota. I think we ought to be one our way."
"Do you think y'all can handle it without me?"
"Sam – we came here together."
Sam waved him off. "I can always hotwire a car later. I want to do some investigating. Because there is something going on. I'm not sure if it's her or us, but…let's call it a hunch."
His grandfather nodded. "Fine. But be careful. And I can't give you more than three days. I expect to see you back at base."
"Yes, sir," Sam said.
III
"You know, I thought he'd be…bigger?" was the first thing Neville said to her when they apparated to the temporary work base.
"Are you kidding? That man is practically the same height as Hagrid!"
He shook his head. "Maybe that's not the right word. I've just…I've read so much about Sam Winchester in the last week and I thought, from all accounts, that he would have more of a presence. You know – the way that Harry just projects greatness. Doesn't matter what room he walks into, there's an authority."
Ginny frowned. She never felt that with Harry, but she had witnessed other people have big reactions to his presence. She had always thought it was his fame.
"Next thing you're going to say is that he has Nargles flying around him," she quipped. She expected him to laugh, but instead, his expression was thoughtful. "Nargles aren't real, Neville."
"No, I know that. I think even Luna knows that, but she has to find a way to describe what she's seeing and that's usually something no one else does. It's too bad that we can't bring her in to consult. I know that I never met him before but…"
Neville was a good judge of character. Ginny wasn't going to question his instincts.
"Well, there is no way that we're going to get the clearance to figure it out," she said. "Let's go check and see if the team has a positive ID on the demon I saw talking with Samuel last night."
With synchronous wand movements, they cast a spell that would disguise their real faces and voices. It was standard operating procedure – particularly after the war, that those without security clearance didn't know who was on the Department's employ.
The research center that had been set up in this part of Montana – within the borders of a wizarding settlement, so protected from any wandering Muggles, but far enough from the town (which they wouldn't be permitted to enter, in any case) that they shouldn't have to deal with any wayward Americans either.
From the outside, it looked like a tent that could hold a family of four. Of course, once one was inside and past the security, it was far more than that.
It was a complex that was meant to hold their team of ten Unspeakables. On top of the living quarters (one tiny room each with nothing more than a bed) there were four labs for experiments, a room for monitoring Mundie activities, and a large conference room for them all to meet in.
Neville and Ginny were the highest-ranked Unspeakables stationed here, so everyone gave them respectful nods as they passed them in the hallways.
"Cataglyphis and Jellyfish, we've been waiting for you," Dennis, codenamed Tarantula, greeted them. (Ginny smiled to herself remembering Neville's reaction to that particular codename. He thought it was utterly unfair that he was named after a creature that famously had no spine and Dennis bloody Creevy got a much tougher sounding name.)
"What have you found?" He asked, refusing the use the codename.
"Thanks to the memories supplied by Cataglyphis we believe we have a positive match on the demon. In fact, Abispa is asking you both to meet with her as the parameters of our assignment have changed drastically due to this development."
Neville and Ginny looked at each other.
"Don't keep us waiting, Tarantula," Ginny urged.
"It's Crowley."
Whatever Ginny had been expecting, it wasn't that. "Self-proclaimed King of the Crossroads?"
"No, self-coronated, King of Hell," Neville corrected her.
She had been feet away from a demon that had proclaimed himself King of the entire underworld? A chill ran up her spine.
"What does he want with a bunch of hunters?" Neville asked.
"He's been in regular contact with Sam and Dean Winchester for two years," Dennis reported to them. "It is not that surprising that he would also know their grandfather."
"That's not in their file," Neville frowned. Ginny could see that he was greatly disturbed by this development.
Dennis looked down. "You are correct. An operative was sent out to Dean Winchester's house and collected some of his memories."
Ginny's stomach sank. "That's…"
"Clever," Neville finished for her, giving her a warning look.
She was horrified. That was not only illegal but completely amoral. A total violation. To do that to a civilian – to a Muggle who had no way to protect himself from that sort of attack was – abhorrent. Her mind went back to her sixth year of Hogwarts…
"Legilimens," Malfoy had hissed at her while she was stuck to a chair, flanked by the Carrows. "Where is Potter?" he demanded as he attempted to break into her mind.
She could feel him in her thoughts. Demanding that he show her information about Harry.
Pain exploded in her temple as she screamed.
Out of the eyeline of anyone in the room, Neville had reached out and squeezed her hand in a gesture of comfort, snapping her out of her flashback. "Very clever, indeed," Neville spoke to cover for her current inability to speak. "What else did we learn?"
"Not much else," Creevey said, "we had to tread carefully because even though he is retired, he still was almost able to neutralize our operative. His memory was wiped, of course, but we can't risk doing that many more times without getting on his radar."
"Thank you for the report, Tarantula," Neville said, "we have another pressing matter to attend to. Send me a message if you uncover anything further."
"Yes, sir," Dennis responded.
Quickly, the two of them left the room. Ginny felt like she was going to throw up still not recovered from her memory.
"Breathe, Ginny," Neville said gently. They must have reached a secure location if he was using her real name. "Match my breaths, come on, breathe with me."
Slowly and surely, he led her through slowing down her pants and she felt her heart return to a more normal rate.
"You alright?" He asked.
One of the things that Ginny appreciated about Neville was there was no pity in his voice. Only concern. No judgment.
"Yeah," she said, sitting. It was the cot in her quarters, she realized as she sat.
"Malfoy?" He asked.
"Yeah," she said, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them so that she was in a protective ball. "It's not been that bad in a long time."
"I know."
"It's fucked up, them doing that. Even to a hunter like Dean Winchester. Illegal."
"Only in parts of the world governed by the International Confederation of Wizards," he reminded her.
"But the American…"
"We don't know the exact laws governing the Americans," he pointed out, "that's why I was able to give you that dose of Victus Nox. We know that their citizens are not permitted to have any contact with Muggles but things get wonky from there. Technically, we're in international waters here."
Ginny couldn't help but let a snort out about that.
"Last I checked piracy has to be committed in water."
"Technicalities," Neville laughed.
"Nev – this isn't alright. Whatever I might think about Sam Winchester we can't just…"
"I know. But we don't know who gave that order."
"It wasn't you?" She asked sharply.
Neville recoiled as if she had hit him. "Of course not."
Ginny relaxed. No one currently in the country outranked them in the Department. That meant the order had to have come over from England. It was dumb of her to accuse Neville of that.
"I'm sorry, it's just…"
"You've had a shock. I'd want to know too," he said. "But Ginny, this means we've got to tread carefully here. There is something supremely wrong about this entire case. I think that we should find someplace more private to speak."
That was enough to get her to uncurl completely. He didn't think that they were safe here. At least, not safe to speak freely. What did he know that she didn't?
"Right. Well, I could use a drink. Reckon there's a pub somewhere around here?"
"I'm sure there is," he agreed, heading towards the door. "You coming?"
"Give me one sec," she asked. Neville nodded and headed out. He had made an excellent point about Victus Nox not being illegal here. She quickly pulled out a vial she had stashed just under the bedframe of this room and downed it in one go. Shivering with energy she felt ready to face whatever Neville had to say to her.
III
When he left the diner the woman and her boyfriend – if that's indeed what that man was to her, were nowhere in sight.
She had mentioned, loudly, that the two of them were on a road trip, but he had only been a minute or two behind them and it was as if they had vanished into thin air.
Unless they were angels, which, seemed very unlikely, it wasn't as if they could up and fly away.
A part of him said that they could have been parked right up front, which explained why no one on the street had noticed them, and how they got away so quickly.
But his hunter's instincts told him otherwise.
While he walked to start searching for information about the woman (and he supposed, the man with her as well) he thought back to their first meeting, trying to analyze it.
She had been surprised when he had opened the can.
Her own can had been unopened.
Her clothes, although they could probably be explained away by different fashions (which he knew nothing about) looked like they were out of an entirely different era.
She had been watching him in the bar. And, yeah, he was used to women looking at him, but, somehow, he had felt more studied than ogled.
All of that put together that she was at the diner right next to his motel. That was where he decided to start. He walked into the front office of the motel and flashed his badge at the clerk behind the counter – a pimply teenager.
"FBI – I need to see the guest list of everyone who was staying at this motel last night."
"Why?" the teenager asked with an attitude typical of a child of his age.
"For an investigation. I need the names and addresses of every registered guest."
The teenager squinted at him. "All's we've got is a copy of their IDs."
Sam rolled his eyes. Addresses were usually listed on IDs. Having over a dozen fake IDs himself, he knew what information was needed. "Then I'd like to see the copies of everyone who was staying at this motel last night. Actually – make that anyone who has stayed here for the last three nights."
He said it all with enough authority that the kid pulled out a dingy accordion file that looked like it was falling apart. "This is the last month. Have at." He shoved it at Sam before turning away and walking into the back.
Sam didn't care as he moved to a chair that was sitting in the lobby (although he would hardly call this space a lobby at all) and started shuffling through the papers. At first glance, he as just looking for passports instead of driver's licenses, figuring that would be the form of ID the woman presented. There were only two passports in the bunch and both of them were elderly and Canadian.
In some ways, his respect for Red (because thinking of her as "the woman" or the "red-haired woman" was getting exhausting) went up. If she was, in fact, supernatural. The fact that he couldn't tell also raised her in his esteem.
Hard work didn't scare Sam off. Tedious tasks used to bother him but he didn't mind so much these days. As long as he was working, he was content.
After the failure at the closest motel, he took advantage of the free Wifi and did some simple math and internet searches. These told him that there were approximately twelve hotels or motels that Red could have stayed in last night. (He considered it lucky that they were in a rural part of the state – if this had been Des Moines he would have been hosed.)
Of course, there was some chance that Red had friends or family that she had stayed with, but that seemed unlikely, considering that she mentioned she was on a road trip.
He was able to hack into the systems of the more reputable hotels and chain motels and found no trace of her.
Sam wasn't going to leave any stone unturned, however, so he headed out and checked out the rest of the places one by one.
Not a trace.
"I can't find any record of her," he said on the phone to Samuel, later that night. "I'll head to Minnesota to help Christian out with those wraiths."
"No need. They already took them out. Come on back to the base. I thought about it on the way back – the only connection between the first scene and the Shapeshifters was you and me. If she's following us, for whatever reason, she'll pop up again."
Sam wasn't sure that it was that simple, but he could follow the logic. He had agreed to put his trust in Samuel after finding him when he had returned from Hell. The old man hadn't steered him wrong yet, so he had no reason to believe he would either.
"You thinking of setting up a trap?"
"I'm already five steps ahead of you. I've got Gwen doing research on what she might be. Just get your butt back here."
"On my way."
III
"Honestly, Kings, this was the best deal I think we could've gotten. It's amazing that we walked away with anything at all," Harry reported back to the Minister of Magic when he returned to England. This was after the official meeting they had with everyone who had been sent over there. The two of them were sitting in front of a large fireplace in his office, firewhiskeys in hand.
Kingsley nodded. "Thank you for going in my stead," he said. "I wish I could have gone but I can't look like I'm too much in the pocket of the ICW. Did they really shade their faces?"
Harry wrinkled his nose. "Yeah – like the damn new generation of Unspeakables does. Do you think that they actually shared it with them? I thought that it was a proprietary spell to the Department. That's what they've always told me."
"I think it's very likely that the Unspeakables actually took it from them," he said.
Harry shot the Minister a confused look.
He sighed. "There is a lot of classified information, of course, so I'm not telling you any of this, but the Unspeakables have been doing research in the United States for years. This push on the part of the ICW was to allow them more access."
"Why? What the hell are they interested in the United States?"
"Believe it or not, even I am not privy to all. But they are researching the Mundanes. And there is no place with more of them then…"
"The US," Harry scowled. "It's only because the wizarding community is so isolated from the Muggle one, you know. Even the most bigoted purebloods believe in protecting our Muggles from those."
"I don't disagree. Harry – once your promotion goes through – "
"If," Harry corrected.
"When," Kingsley insisted. "Young or not, you're one of the best Aurors we've seen since Mad-Eye. And you're at least slightly less mad than he was. Now that you've shown that your diplomatic skills can match your defensive ones, I'm sure that the Wizengamot will have no trouble approving your promotion to Head Auror with both mine and Hestia's endorsements. And you know that Hestia is more than ready to retire. There was a reason you were selected as the main representative of the British government."
"According to the Prophet, it's all because you unfairly favor me as the Savior."
The Minister chuckled. "I do have a soft spot for you, I don't deny it. But more than anything you are qualified. I know that I'll feel safer with you on the reigns of security in this country."
Harry was glad that someone thought so.
"And how did Ginny fair? Did she end up being an asset or a distraction?" There was something in the Minister's voice that Harry couldn't place but he also didn't like.
"She's always an asset to me," he defended. It had been a fight to have her included. And as mixed as Harry's own feelings had been, she had been there in case there were more "social" events to be attended. A chance for the governmental officials of the American wizarding government to interact with everyday witches and wizards. Of course, no such opportunity presented itself, and she had to leave early.
"I wasn't suggesting otherwise. Just curious if she shared anything she learned from her…free time…with you."
"I think she spent most of her time at the hotel's swimming pool," Harry said.
"She didn't do anything else?" Kingsley pressed. Harry frowned. He didn't think that the Minister would care what Ginny got up to, seeing as she hadn't taken part of any official part of the delegation.
"Took some walks, I think. Complained about American breakfasts."
For some reason, Kingsley looked disappointed, but it was only for a fleeting second.
"It was too bad that she had to come back early," he groused. "I thought with her retiring she would have more free time. But she hasn't…detangled herself from the team yet."
"That wasn't in the official report," the Minister frowned.
"That she came back early? I didn't think it mattered," Harry said, surprised. "It had no bearing on the proceedings."
Kingsley's face gave away nothing. "True. Well, Harry, I think that you've put in more than enough work in the last couple of weeks and the months leading up to the Summit. Go home, get some sleep. Take a couple of days off. That's an official order."
Harry was going to protest, but the look Kingsley gave him stopped him short. "Yes, sir," he said, standing up. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
III
When Neville finished telling her what he suspected, Ginny felt a little dizzy. She also knew that he wasn't telling her everything. Which was frightening.
"How long have you been looking into this?" And why didn't you tell me? Was the unspoken question that followed.
"Actively? The last six months or so," he admitted. "But, honestly, I've been picking up on clues for the last couple of years. I wasn't sure! Ginny, if it was nothing, I didn't want to drag you into the muck with me."
"But we're partners! You can't keep me out of these things."
"I know, I know. And you don't know how many times I wanted to tell you, but you have enough on your plate, Ginny. Between your fights with Harry and having to deal with his potential promotion, this was going to be too much."
"I'll make that determination in the future, thank you very much," she said coldly.
He gave her a look that almost made her regret yelling at him. Almost.
"I'm telling you now. This whole thing just…it feels off. And now we're dealing a demon that calls himself the King of Hell? This is about so much more than Mundies."
"And you think, somehow, Sam and Dean Winchester are at the center of all of this?"
"Yeah. But I haven't quite unraveled that part. But that's why I think that you need to continue your observation of Sam. And why I think we should be very selective in what we put into our reports from now on."
It was so much. "You think that Abispa…"
He shook his head. "I don't think they're involved. In fact, I think they were trying to tip me off that something was wrong. So, in our report, we'll need to tread very carefully. We can't let them know too much."
"But…"
"Do you trust me, Ginny?" he asked.
"You know I do."
"Then trust me in this. I don't know what exactly is going on, but I think one thing is clear. There are forces that are fighting against Sam and Dean Winchester. And we need to protect them."
"You mean I need to protect them," she scoffed.
"Well, you are the one with the clearance to approach them," he said with a grin.
She threw a chip at him. "Fine. Ok. What do you want me to say." Her mind was too busy buzzing with all the implications to come up with a strategy.
Neville smiled – he knew she was on board. "Ok, so I was thinking…"
III
"Can't find a single damn thing, Crowley, I don't know what you expect…"
"I expect that you are doing as you are doing as you are told," Crowley responded, cutting him off with a menacing glare.
Lord, did Samuel hate this smarmy British jackass of a demon. But he had no choice. Not with what he had on the line.
Crowley had stopped by the Campbell base. It was the second in-person visit he had gotten from the demon in just a couple of days' time, which was not good.
"You got any idea? You've been around for how long? Shouldn't you know what this thing is?"
"I'm sure if I saw the thing, I'd know immediately. But in order for that to happen, you need to capture it."
"I think this is somethin' new," Samuel argued. "Do you think it could be angel-related?"
Crowley scoffed. "No," he gave no further explanation.
That was all Samuel had. He'd been dealing with a lifetime of monsters and he had never come across anything that just killed monsters and then cleaned up behind itself. Why would it? He wasn't even sure if the two incidents were connected. 'Cause the Shapeshifters bodies were left behind but the Arcane had been cleared out.
"I don't think it's a threat, in any case."
He found himself thrown against the wall, thumping painfully against it before falling, hard. "It's a threat if I say it's a threat, you hear me?"
"Yeah, I hear you," Samuel said as he started getting to his feet, his back hurting. He was getting too old for this bullshit.
Crowley vanished.
III
Ginny was relieved that after their conversation with Abispa, she could see what Neville had been implying. Their boss was treading carefully but her orders were phrased in a way that Ginny had room for… creative interpretation.
With the evidence that the hunters were working with demons, they were officially upgraded to Mundie status. No longer considered human (Ginny realized that this must have been the rationale for breaking into Dean Winchester's mind), that meant that, while she was still meant to avoid conversation if at all possible, the use of magic was permitted.
She had gotten an updated file on both Samuel and Sam that contained a ton more information but nothing about why they were doing what they were doing.
And, ultimately, that's why she was being sent on this mission.
It seemed that the family had some sort of base that's wards made it difficult to locate and possibly impossible to penetrate.
She highly doubted that.
Thankfully, Sam was not similarly protected. It didn't take her long to locate him on the road, likely either on another hunt or heading back to wherever "home" was to him.
Ginny hadn't spent much time in Muggle vehicles – despite her father's obsession with them, but she thought this one was particularly ugly. Black and sleek but somehow…completely lacking in character. The Ford Anglia that had lived in their family's shed was so much better.
Pulling on an invisibility cloak and casting several spells on her person to make her undetectable she slid into the backseat while Sam had run into an establishment called Gas 'n Sip. The interior of the car was almost completely bare. There was a small chest on the passenger's side seat of the front, but other than that, there wasn't a single personal belonging to sight.
She didn't have to wait long for Sam to return. He had a cup with him and a mobile that he was holding up to his ear with his shoulder.
"Really, Bobby?" He asked as he got into the car. "You've been doing this for how long and you…"
Whoever was on the other end, she presumed Bobby Singer, a longtime contact of the Winchester brothers, interrupted him.
"Yeah, yeah. Just – see if you can find anything." He hung up.
He looked in the rearview mirror and for one terrifying moment, she thought that he could somehow see or sense her. But his eyes quickly moved past where she was and he started the car.
Other than the hunter occasionally swearing at the traffic, the ride was silent. Sam Winchester didn't listen to the wireless or music of any sort. He just stared straight ahead and drove with determination.
III
Something was off. Sam could feel it.
Bobby had been no help – even suggesting that trying to interfere with something that was killing monsters so efficiently was probably not in his best interests.
But this was the most interesting thing that he had come across since he had somehow returned to life. The first thing that had excited him.
Monster hunting was comforting and familiar. Even the ones that should not even be in the United States – it was the same day in and out. He was good at his job. Sam would even go so far as to say that he liked it. There was something primal and satisfying in the work he had been doing with Samuel and his cousins.
But the red-haired woman was something new. She had consumed all his thoughts in a way that nothing else had since he had taken a swan dive into Hell.
Maybe it was because he was convinced that she was hunting him in the same way that he was searching for her.
Of course, he had no idea why and was pretty sure that it wouldn't be good, but there was a thrill in being the hunted.
A challenge at last.
When he got back in his car the hairs on his arm stood up a little.
He didn't know how he knew but she was close. Or, if not her, something had changed in the car. But he was pretty sure that he smelled a hint of her perfume – mint and eucalyptus if he remembered from leaning in close to her.
Sam kept his expression schooled and the car silent. He hoped that Samuel had everything set up at base because Red was going to be with them sooner than either of them had anticipated.
AN - I can't decide if I'm going to be posting on Thursdays or Fridays, but here we are. To my one reviewer (thank you!) - Ginny is going to be unlikable for parts of this story. I feel like male characters get to have this arc all the time - asshole to our lovable asshole. We'll see if I can pull it off.