Roses Under Cypresses

Chapter 6

Hannibal set about making himself a cup of coffee, in desperate need of one. He hadn't slept all night. He had been too busy caring for his sister…Misha. He could scarcely believe she was here and alive. He pondered on the subject of A Brief History of Time, how Doctor Stephen Hawking had believed once that the universe would stop expanding and would shrink again, and that entropy would reverse itself. Like a lot of science and minds, he later decided that he was wrong. Hannibal very capable of high mathematics – while nowhere near Hawking's capabilities – enjoyed trying to make the math fit, he was unfortunately, unable to come close.

Will once spoke of teacups, which had made him vividly recall one of his favourite parts. Recalling where the teacup fell off the table and smashed to the floor, in so many pieces it surely would be impossible for it to reassemble itself. Magic. The missing facet of Mathematics. 'The laws of science do not distinguish between past and the future' neither did magic apparently, he thought in reverence.

He could still recall the sickening feeling of finding Misha's baby teeth in the stew his captors had given him. Still vividly recall getting revenge on every single one of the people who had taken his Misha from him. Recall the grief and numbness that had enveloped him whole. Misha appearing hadn't 'righted' everything, but it made him a very happy man even if he had some explaining to do. How was it that she could be here and he could still recall what he did? Easy, apparently the laws of magic didn't distinguish between past and the future. It just was.

Despite the danger the man posed, Hannibal was so very curious about him. About magic in general, which his sister is said to have. He hungered for the information previously unknown to him. To better take care of his sister, to better know the world.

Removing his coffee from the maker, he was just about to take a sip when a knock on the door interrupted his silent but entertaining and enlightening thoughts. Pausing, he glanced at the time, perplexed at whom could be at his door so early in the morning. None of his patients knew where he lived, naturally, he took steps to safeguard his privacy. Will, wasn't his patient so he didn't count.

Upon opening his door, he found a young man, who spoke before he could get a word out edgewise, "Hannibal Lecter?" he asked, peering at the man before him, in awe of the house and the man before him.

"Yes," he said demurely, "Can I help you?"

"Package for you, Sir, sign here please," handing over the clipboard and pen patiently.

Hannibal found himself a little puzzled, he had not ordered anything. Nonetheless, he claimed the clipboard and signed the dotted line. Accepting the package that was given to him in turn.

"Have a good day, Sir!" the boy said, before he took off back towards his bike which was at leaning against the gate post.

"Thank you," Hannibal said politely, and after his opening rudeness, the rest of the conversation had saved his life. Not that the boy probably had a card for him to take. Closing the door to ward off the chill, he returned to his kitchen, and his awaiting coffee and began to drink it while he opened the package carefully.

Then in front of him was papers, a birth certificate, a death certificate, a passport – a dual passport – boarding pass stubs, which means Misha was a US citizen, he wouldn't need to find a way to get her a green card. He too was a neutralised American Citizen, and had been for years. There was also an ID card, and everything Misha would need to lead a life here in the USA.

There was a piece of paper with a handwritten note, picking it up he read the short but concise words, in calligraphy he liked very much.

These are all genuine, they will pass all scrutiny placed upon them. Everything is in the main databases, even the plane ticket. Focus on your task at hand, you have two weeks.

Two weeks? Ah, this young man had succeeded in ensuring Will's trial date was moved up then. He thought as he drank his coffee absently, he pondered on what to do while he was out, Misha couldn't be left alone, he had chosen Misha's room with care, she was to have the second biggest room in the house – his being the Master bedroom – and she was currently asleep with fluids and antibiotics in her weakened system. He had the perfect soup for her to eat when she woke up.

Silkie chicken in broth, it would help settle her stomach and give her the very much needed nutrients, just like dear will had. If having his sister back wasn't odd, having someone to talk to in his native tongue certainly was.

The problem was, if anyone saw her, they would immediately try to convince him to send her to hospital. Not that he would allow someone substandard to care for Misha. He was not only well equipped to care for her, but he had the qualifications to do so. Unlike other retired surgeons, he did not allow his abilities go to waste. Alana would be most vocal and she'd be the only one he'd be willing to trust with her care.

He wasn't in the mood to placate or convince Alana that he was perfectly capable. The lack of sleep would make him…rude and less polite in regards to his 'esteemed colleague'. Not all the coffee – as lovely as it was – would help in that regard. He would need to find someone to care for Misha, he couldn't look after her full time. He had his patients to see, and…extracurricular activities he liked to indulge in. Which was why he'd had no desire for children, despite not wishing for the Lecter line to end.

He'd never imagined this possibility, but he would work around it, he was quite flexible like that.

Picking up the piece of paper that Harry had written on, he walked through to his sitting down and placed it in the roaring fire. Much too careful to leave any sort of evidence lying around, even if on its own it wasn't incriminating. He'd been doing this way too long to even consider keeping it. Even if the calligraphy was beautiful, and it pained him to burn it. It had been hand written, he could smell the ink as it burnt.

Nonetheless, he had work to do, he did not know exactly what Harry Potter was capable of. He wasn't going to risk his sister for anything, not now that he'd just gotten her back. It was all he'd ever wanted, except for Will. if he could bring her here…it stands to reason he could take her away again.

For the next few hours Hannibal did what he did best, cooked and planned. He made soup for his sister, worked out his day. He called his patients and profusely apologised for cancelling their appointments on such short notice. Thankfully none of them were rude to his plight, and agreed they'd be just fine and they would see him next week. He was also grateful Franklin was no longer alive, he would have had a difficult time getting the man off the line. He had been extremely needy to the extent that he assumed they were friends and annoyingly showed up wherever he went. He'd certainly pushed him to the extent that he'd planned over a hundred ways to kill him and cook him. Normally he refrained from killing current patients so not to draw unwanted attention to himself. Thankfully, Tobias had given him the perfect opportunity, unfortunately, he hadn't gotten to harvest anything from either of them. Which was such a shame, although, later he'd made up for that, and hosted a wonderfully successful dinner party.

It was early afternoon Hannibal had just finished preparing to leave when the doorbell rang, Misha had been delighted by the food. No surprise, it had been a long time for her since she had food let alone decadently seasoned food. He didn't give her a lot, but had made sure to make plenty so she could have at least eight meals a day until she could handle the food. He did not wish to risk refeeding syndrome, now that in itself was a very dangerous condition. He had put a very mild sedative in her drink, which had promptly had her sleepy she had fallen asleep by the time he'd left the room. Sleep was best for her right now anyway.

"Jack," Hannibal said, blinking in hidden surprise at the head of the BAU at his home. "Come in," he said, when it was the very last thing he wanted. Leading him through to the kitchen, he made them some coffee.

"I went to your office," Jack said, his tone more accusing than mild, still riled up by his encounter with the special agent. "It was locked up."

"Yes, I've taken a personal day," Hannibal explained, but did not go into greater detail. He would have to at some point, either that or let one of the others inform Jack. He couldn't quite care either way. "How can I help you?"

"Have you gone to see Will?" Jack asked, standing watching Hannibal make coffee for them.

More out of habit, than actual desire to do so.

"I went to see him only once," Hannibal confessed as he handed over the coffee, curious about why Jack was really here. It was unlike him to come to his home; he could have called. "Just after he was incarcerated…I was distraught that I couldn't be of more help to Will and apologised for letting him down." Which couldn't have been more different from how it really went down.

He had not expected to miss Will as vehemently as he did. It had made him realize just how precious the man was to him. He had only missed one other in his life, and that was his sister Misha. Not even his parent's deaths had affected him thusly. Will…had astonishingly become someone he was very fond of, uncouth and curt as he could be. That should have been another clue, he couldn't abide by rudeness, yet when Will was so, it did not bother him the slightest.

"I need your help," Jack said, a scowl on his face, "I need you to convince a judge that Will Graham doesn't need a Conservatorship."

"I'm sorry he has a what?" Hannibal asked, his amusement carefully concealed, having a very good idea how it had happened and why. Even though he didn't like the thought of anyone having control over Will that wasn't him. Although, if it got in the way of Jack's machinations, he was all for it. He did not believe Will should be working for that man, and any attempts he'd made to make dents in the loyalty Will displayed to Jack failed.

"A judge granted a Conservatorship for Will Graham, for his duration of his stay in BSHCI." Jack bit out, temple throbbing showing his displeasure even if he attempted to downplay it.

"I see," Hannibal replied, as always, his emotions carefully concealed, but he did allow some 'concern' for Will to bleed out. "How does Will feel about that?" he had yet to see Harry and Will interact, he had no idea of their relationship…so he honestly couldn't say how Will felt about it.

"I didn't get a chance to talk to him about it," Jack admitted in dismay, he'd wanted Will to look at a crime scene, help him find a killer. That had been his primarily motive for going there, he hadn't expected his hands to be tied when it came to his criminal profiler. "Knowing Will, I doubt he's very happy."

Hannibal made a soft sound, neither agreeing or disagreeing. "While I am well respected in psychiatric society, I'm afraid I cannot help you, Jack." He said sombrely, rather amused by the head of the BAU coming to him for help. "I doubt you'll get the Conservatorship changed, not without proof that Will is in no need for one. Unfortunately, given his current status and location…there is every belief he needs one."

"We can get it changed," Jack refuted the statement, "Will doesn't even know him, its usually family or someone close to the recipient that's granted Conservatorship! If we can prove that Will is unhappy with these turns of events the judge will need to take that into consideration." He had been doing some digging, into the judge, who was without any skeletons in his closet unfortunately.

"How sure are you that Will doesn't know this person?" Hannibal asked Jack pensively.

"They'll have had no reason to cross paths," Jack stated firmly, there was way no way Special Agent Potter and Will knew each other. No, this was an attempt to get Will, to get him away from the BAU. Something he would not allow, he'd finally got a team he wanted, he would keep it.

Hannibal knew Jack couldn't have been more wrong. Agent Potter and Will knew each other very well, that sort of protectiveness did not come out of nowhere. They knew each other, and knew each other well, which he was envious of. "Are you sure?"

"I've never heard him mentioning a friend in the secret service, have you?" Jack said challengingly.

Hannibal allowed a little rueful smile appear on his face, "I was lucky Will would speak to me at all. Certainly, never made a mention of family or friends other than in passing. In my opinion he's a very private person." Which was all very true, he'd mentioned his father a few times, closed up and became rude when his mother was mentioned and never really revealed much about himself at all. Enough that Hannibal could glean what his childhood was like, but no, good Will wasn't one for taking about himself much at all.

"Would you at least visit to find out?" Jack asked exasperated, unhappy with the way the conversation was going. He'd expected Hannibal to agree immediately to offer aid. It's why he had the guy helping them where he could.

"I am not sure of my welcome," Hannibal confessed, tidying up his worktops absently. "Will made some very grave accusations regarding my person."

"He was sick, hallucinating, losing time, you heard the doctor," Jack waved off Hannibal's concern. He hadn't believed Will's claims that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper, no, he was just sick. Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same that Will wasn't the copycat killer. Now he could help without being a danger to society, so long as he could get this judge to cede to his demands.

It was almost perfect.

Except for one glaring annoyance.

Special Agent Potter.

"I am well aware of the symptoms of the illness Will endured," Hannibal said, giving Jack a look, disguising most of his disgust. He had been a surgeon, and was well familiar with a whole variety of illnesses, including a great many that Jack probably hadn't heard off. He was well aware of his previous profession. After all, he had been the one to butter him up, complimenting him while trying to get him to do Will's profile. Which he had to admit, he was very grateful he had. He had been cautious when asked, while having an in with the FBI would be intriguing, he also realized it could bring more attention than he was accustomed to. In the end the allure had been too great, and he'd agreed to meet Will. "Jack…it's very unlikely that I can help you, I apologise,"

"Just talk to him, see what he has to say about Agent Potter," Jack urged, he had absolutely nothing about the guy. His records were sealed, considering how high up he was it had been a shock to find himself denied. Not listening at all to Hannibal's concerns, no doubt Will would be grateful for the visit.

"Very well, I'll see what I can do, Jack," Hannibal pretended to cave in, he should probably inform Harry what Jack was attempting. If only to stay on his good side. It was unlikely that Jack would succeed, whoever Harry Potter was, he had connections if Jack was struggling to get answers.

"I hope so. We need Will Graham. He's helping save lives. Thank you for the coffee," Jack said, finishing it in one go, before he turned and left without another word. Practically stomping from the house, irate beyond belief at having to wait, rely on others…and more importantly, he had a damn crime to investigate.

Once alone, Hannibal allowed a small amused smile to spread across his face. There was something truly amusing about such a big man stomping around having a hissy fit. Or better yet, the Head of the BAU throwing a tantrum like a child denied his way.

With a small happy sound, Hannibal reached up for his rolodex, slipping through the numerous cards. Already mentally preparing and deciding on which meals to prepare with what ingredients. He'd have to cut up the meat into smaller proportions for Misha, of course, as tender as they'd be.

He normally didn't hunt until night-time, where the dark gave him the most coverage. Plus, most of the people on his rolodex would be working at the moment. He would work around it; he was very adaptable.

Plucking the card from its confines, perfect, plenty of nutrition in this one too. It would take a while for Misha to recover. He wondered what she remembered; what she could recall of the horror they had endured.

Without more ado, he began to gather everything he'd need. Misha would likely sleep for a few more hours, giving him plenty of time to bring his 'guest' back and have some fun. Then the real fun began later, he had contemplated doing a 'copy' of another serial killer that was running amok at the moment…but without Will…it was very doubtful they'd figure it out. It had been only Will who saw his 'copy-cat' killings for what they were he thought smugly.

His abilities had amazed and worried Hannibal in equal measures. Made him desire him and want to drug him to keep him on the quiet. He very often used other killers' methods as his MO, the Chesapeake Ripper was for special occasions. The rest of the bodies that weren't put on display were never found. He didn't always have the time to taunt the police after all.

It was just too bad he couldn't go to Minnesota for this, but time was definitely not on his side for that sort of travelling he'd have to do.

It didn't take much longer for him to drive his car to one of his less conspicuous cars – that was not registered in his name – ready to hunt.

Harry leaned patiently against the wall, his entire focus on the pub in front of him. Which was where his target was. Waiting for the bastard to emerge so he could take care of him. He always avoided bringing Muggles into wizarding fights where he could. Hence why he hadn't entered the quite secluded pub near the highway. There were a lot of bikers in there, enjoying a drink or two. Harry suspected it might be near their clubhouse, he eyed the bikes with contemplation. Some of them were amazing, the sort of bike he'd actually contemplate buying if he wanted to ride.

Hell, he was going to be spending most of his time in the Muggle world now. With a little luck, depending on whether he could get through to his brother. He still couldn't get over that, being able to say he had a brother. An actual blood brother, admittedly only half, but still a brother, still blood.

He'd been expecting his first target very quickly, and wasn't surprised at the rap sheet he had. Go figure Tristian would actually give him the worst of worst scum that walked the street. His reputation of killing most of his marks – even if they were wanted more alive – well, was well known. He wasn't going to fight honourable while getting his ass handed to him by someone who wouldn't have a problem killing him to get away.

He actually valued his life thank you very much.

That thinking had been the start of the rift between him, Hermione and Ron actually. It was almost as if they'd rather him fight fair and risk dying than dare to dirty his 'clean-cut reputation' and his status symbol of being such a good, great and very fair wizard.

Hermione didn't want anything to get in the way of her plans to be Minister for magic. Siding and sullying her reputation with Harry Potter would not be a good for her goals and plans. Ron understandably agreed with her, he was an Auror, expected to uphold the law, and be seen as someone good in the magical world.

They began distancing themselves from Harry, proclaiming their distaste at his actions. Merlin, that had hurt irrevocably, but he owed them, for if not for their actions…he may never have found the time to look through his vaults. More specifically his mums, wanting to be close he read her diaries, and he was ever so glad he had. He'd had more time than he knew what to do with without someone to talk to.

For he had found out there that he had family.

Their denouncement of him had the opposite effect they'd hoped. For the people were cheering Harry on. Desiring to feel safe again, for the scum of the earth to be taken off the street. Not just the public, but every case given to Harry – where he dealt with them his way – and they knew it meant the higher ups wanted it that way too. For a smart witch, Hermione should have realized that.

Ron was still to this day just a Auror, he hadn't received a single promotion or pay rise. As for Hermione? Still worked under Amelia Bones, she hadn't received any promotions or been accepted for any advanced positions and still received the same pay.

He was wrenched from his thoughts when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Harry never removed his eyes from the two exists available to his target. Sliding his hand into his pocket, he removed his phone, "Hello?" without glancing at who it was. He wasn't going to miss him after bloody standing here in the freezing cold for hours waiting on him. Not that he himself was cold, warming charms for the win. It was still not a nice night to be out here when he could be with the dogs.

"Agent Potter?" his voice slightly confused, no doubt at the quietness he was speaking.

"Ah, Lecter, can I help you?" his voice once more barely discernible over the phone.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" curiosity bled into his voice, no offence at the use of his last name.

Harry hummed, "Not yet, unless my target leaves," his tone quiet as not to be heard. The door opened, and the music thrummed through the night louder than normal. The sound of loud drunken conversation washing over the night.

Sighing softly, Harry took a few steps back, irritation thrumming through him. He was still in there; he could see him sitting at the bar drinking. The beauty of magic, he could see through walls and buildings without being inside of them. "What can I do for you?" he asked, speaking a little more loudly, since no doubt nobody would hear him over the racket at the front, all of them having a smoke before going back in by the look of it.

"I just wished to inform you I've begun our bargain and warn you that Jack Crawford is attempting to subvert your Conservatorship and have it transferred to someone else…likely himself." Hannibal explained. "He isn't a man easily deterred, he will use all his connections and then some to achieve his end regardless whom he must manipulate."

"The Conservatorship will only be in play for another week or so, it will be over once they release Will from prison." Harry told him down the phone. Depending how long it took them to decide that Hannibal's actions were those of the real copy cat killer and that it was not will.

"You hope to avoid a trial altogether," Hannibal deduced.

"Yes," Harry replied, "Will would find it entirely tasteless," he heard a small amused sound on the phone as if Hannibal found his remark funny. No, he'd rather not force Will to endure a trial, not with the emotions of a million people – primarily serial killers – roaming around in that empathic brain of his. Giving him the potion while he was in prion and vulnerable enough as it was, did not cross his mind for a second.

"Yes, he would," Hannibal agreed, pleasure lacing his voice.

"I have to go," Harry said, hanging up the phone, wand already out, eyes gleaming, ready to follow the son of a bitch. It was going to be all too easy, he reckoned, he was completely sloshed.

He was wrong, and found out just how the wizard had managed to take out so many bounty hunters.

Predicably, Harry still came out the victor, how could he not when he could not die? No, they just absolutely pissed him off.

And pissing him off just made his mood fouler…and guaranteed his targets death.

With the MOD powers…it could only be expected that he'd win.

A/N – would you like to see Harry's fights or do you just consider it a side thing in which has no bearings? Or would you like to see one fight at least so you can get a measure of Harry's MOD powers? We'll see a detailed scene of Hannibal's lovely enactments (I hope!) in the next chapter too…how long realistically once the police ascertain it's the copy cat would it take for the person already in prison for it to be released? I know it's not immediate, there's a lot of paperwork involved, as much as Harry would like to use magic…well, he can't now the process has begun! Out of all my MOD stories this one's definitely going to have a more outright powerful Harry with the MOD powers called into play a LOT :D R&R please