Chapter 26: Christmas Crimes (Part 1)

"How do I look?" I asked, showing off my handsome face to Inky, who squinted up at me.

The elderly House Elf then wiggled his fingers and my tie adjusted itself, straightening out. A second waggle smoothed out the creases on my suit, and then my hair got tidied up imperceptibly.

"Now you look good, Young Master Eddy," Inky said with a fond smile. He then snapped his fingers, summoned a Polaroid Camera, then took a picture of me for mother's sake. I had no doubt she'd have the picture framed by the time I came over for Christmas morning tomorrow.

"Thank you, Inky," I said, flashing him a grin in return.

I was wearing a charcoal black suit with a wine-red tie and a snow-white pocket square tucked into my breast pocket. There were runes sewn into the whole suit which boosted its stain and tear resistance. I could hack at it with a chainsaw and it wouldn't be hurt! For a few minutes, anywhere. It also had temperature regulating runes, which kept me from sweating like a pig if it got too hot, or freezing my pants off if it got too cold.

My tie was no slouch when it came to rune work either. Stain resistant – of course – and possessing a poison detection rune, it would tighten around my neck slightly if I got too close to anything toxic. I could also use it as a compass, using the tip of the tie to find directions.

Though my personal favorite bit of rune crafting was on my rings. I'd finished my Bullet Time ring, which let me dip into ten seconds of slowed down perception. But there was also my second ring I'd been working on. It was imbued with Lumos and Nox spells, meaning I could create light, and take it away.

I also had another piece of trick jewelry in the form of a pocket watch. A tiny vial of Essence of Dittany was hidden within it, so I could heal myself up if something managed to bypass my armored clothing.

Now, you might be wondering why I was decked out to the nines in a fancy suit. The answer was simple! I'd received an invitation from the Finch-Fletchleys to attend a Christmas Party being hosted at a fancy hotel. There would be a lot of chances to meet rich people, and potential investors and customers.

I'd been selling Mrs. Finch-Fletchley a number of my cosmetic products to use, and she'd had glowing reviews for them. I'd gotten a bunch of orders from her friends, and their families.

The extra patronage had made me busy, and I'd managed to get a lot of work done since Harry had gone to Hogwarts. My studies had led me to brand-new runic configurations, and I'd finally found a recipe to create a hair growth balm out of cheap, mostly non-magical ingredients. Namely, barley flour and bear fur. Although the latter wasn't as cheap or easy to get as the former.

Unfortunately, there was a small set back. I still hadn't found a way to turn my potions into pills without them losing most or all of their magical effects, but that was always going to be a long-time work goal. But now I was ready to work on my next step for my business; a store.

My savings were modest, but if I wanted to expand the business, I'd need more capital. Investing in a building was important. With it, I'd have a place to set up and increase potion production as well as a way to show off more products.

Of course, before that, I had to get more customers and people interested in my product. And that was where this party would help.

I gave Inky a nod, and held out a hand to him. Just like the time with the country club, Inky popped away, taking me with him. I appeared in a side alley near the hotel, and walked into it from the street, my runic clothes letting me ignoring the biting chill of the winter evening.

Flashing my invitation to the man at the doors, I strode confidently into the hotel and quickly found the ballroom that had been repurposed for the party. Entering, I spotted the Finch-Fletchleys over by a lovely ice sculpture of a swan. Odd choice for Christmas Party décor in my opinion, but I walked over all the same, smiling at the family I'd come to know in the past couple of months.

"Edward! So glad you could join us!" Mr. Finch-Fletchley said, welcoming me with a hearty slap on the back.

"You look lovely," Mrs. Finch-Fletchley commented. "I love your tie!"

"Thank you, you all look good as well," I said with a nod.

"Justin, this is Edward Rose," his mother said, introducing the two of us. "He will be your tutor over the summer to catch you up on your 'normal' studies."

"I remember meeting you," he said, shaking my hand, while recalling me from the Diagon Alley tour. "You were with Harry Potter, weren't you?"

"Yup," I said with a nod. "I'm a neighbor of his, and we attended the same school before he got his letter."

I then tilted my head. "How is he doing?"

"Pretty good. Got sorted into Gryffindor with me. He's pretty chummy with Ron, Hermione, and Neville, as well as two girls from Hufflepuff. Those are other First Years, by the way."

"I remember Hermione from the tour. Bushy hair, correct? Parents are dentists?" Mrs. Finch-Fletchley asked.

"That's correct," I nodded, pleased that Harry sounded to be doing well. And with a larger friend group than in canon, too! "Now, what's the plan for tonight? And who would you suggest talking to?"

"I'd suggest staying away from anyone who says they'll offer you a contract immediately," Mr. Finch-Fletchley suggested. "And of course, you'll need to be wary of anyone slipping in unreasonable terms to the contracts once you do eventually decide on a partner."

"Is that likely to happen?" I asked, and Justin snorted in amusement, before quailing under his mother's scathing glare.

"They won't out and say it or be obvious, but yes, more than a few will try and fleece you," Mr. Finch-Fletchley said with a chuckle, ignoring the look his wife shot him. He responded by simply raising an eyebrow at her. "Come now, dear, you know it's true. The people here didn't get rich by being nice."

"Yes, but there are better ways to say it," she replied.

I glanced down at Justin, and he rolled his eyes up at me.

"These places can be pretty boring," he warned me.

"I figured as much," I replied in a low voice, and he snickered at that.

"Yeah. Don't worry, though. If you want to avoid talking, just have a plate of food in one hand. They'll leave you alone that way."

"Thanks for the advice," I said, giving him grateful nod.

I then proceeded to look about, my eyes sweeping the ballroom, and I took in all of the different people within. It was clear that the rich and powerful of non-magical Britain were here tonight. Not all of them, of course, but a good chunk of the country's movers and shakers had gathered here for the party.

As my gaze roamed about, someone caught my eye. Long platinum blonde hair that could easily be described as 'silver.' Slender and wearing a pearlescent cocktail dress, she looked like a model or actress. That wasn't why my gaze had stopped on her, however.

"What the hell?" I couldn't help but mutter.

"Ah, someone catch your eye?" Mrs. Finch-Fletchley asked, a teasing note in her voice.

"Whoa, that's weird," Justin muttered, seeing the same woman I had. "She looks like an older, female Draco Malfoy!"

"Who?" Mrs. Finch-Fletchley asked.

"He's a first-year in Slytherin. Kind of a bigot and jerk. He's always trying to mess with Harry Potter and his friends," Justin explained.

"And his father is one of those 'undesirable elements' within the Wizengamot," I replied softly.

"One of those 'Death Eaters' you mentioned?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

"Yes," I replied with a solemn nod. "But I don't think… something must be off. The Malfoys are crazy bigoted, they'd never have anything to do with the mundane world. She must be… a Squib."

'Like me,' went unsaid, but Justin and Mr. and Mrs. Finch-Fletchley heard it all the same.

Was she ditched by her family in a mundane orphanage when her lack of magic was discovered? Or was she from a relative of Lucius? She looked to be about my age, but I'd not heard anything about the Malfoys having a child before Draco. Perhaps they covered it up? But even if they had, you'd think there'd be some rumors about it.

'Then again, I didn't really focus on the gossip of the wizarding world after I found out I was a Squib myself,' I mused in the privacy of my mind. 'That was a bit of a mistake, in hindsight. I should ask mother if she knows anything. Later, of course.'

I put those questions to the side for the moment. My curiosity was piqued, but there's a lot of different questions in my mind. Like what her name was, for instance.

I grabbed a pair of drinks from a passing waiter and went up to meet her.

"Hello there, miss," I said casually, offering her one of the drinks. "This may be presumptuous of me, but I must know your name!"

"Delilah Hunt," she said in greeting, giving me a demure, polite smile that was obviously fake as she accepted a drink from me. She didn't drink from it, though.

"Edward Rose," I said with a bit of a bow. "I saw you across the room, and I just had to talk to you."

"What a charmer you are," she giggled airily. She then frowned. "I'm afraid I don't recognize your name."

"Understandable," I said with a nod. "I was invited by the Finch-Fletchleys."

Delilah immediately understood what I was saying, nodding slowly while some of her mask faded away, allowing me to see a flicker of genuine curiosity in her eyes. No doubt she was wondering why I was here.

"Then you must be awfully confused," she said sympathetically. She then offered me her arm. "Why don't I show you around a bit?"

"I would enjoy that," I said.

"Over there is Michael Walton, he's an important member of the Labor Party. He's speaking with Rogan Hull and Carter Landon, entrepreneurial investors," Delilah informed me, pointing to a trio by a decorative palm tree.

"Lord Samuel Tolly works under the Prime Minister, and the woman speaking to him is Sasha Cray, one of the best contract lawyers around. Don't let her cute looks fool you. She's quite crafty."

"And over by the drink table you can spot John Cutler, already halfway to drunkenness, while his poor wife watches," Delilah said with a shake of her head. "Hard to believe he's one of the biggest owners of real estate this side of London."

"Who's that?" I asked, noticing a rather odd sight. He was a wrinkly old man, bald with liver spots all over. He was in a wheel chair, a cashmere blanket covering his legs. He had a grumpy expression, even while conversing with a few other people. What drew my attention to him was the golden, jewel studded rings on his fingers. I couldn't be certain without getting closer, but they may have been magical!

"That is Sir Jonah Briar," the young woman on my arm said, noticing where my eyes had gone. "He made his fortune in pharmaceuticals."

"Pharmaceuticals, you say?" I hummed, intrigued. 'He could be perfect for my medicinal side of the business. And my hair growth balm would need to be carefully examined by the proper authorities before I can sell it widescale. Perhaps I can use him. Especially if he's a fellow Squib like I'm assuming he is.'

"I take it you know him?" I asked, and she nodded.

"My father is on the board of his company."

"Ah, a business man, then," I mused. "Is your father here, tonight?"

"Not at all," Delilah chuckled. "Everyone knows my father and Mr. Briar can't stand each other."

I made a quiet hum in understanding. "So, your father is using you to do his duties here, then?" I guessed.

"You catch on quick," she smirked.

"Well, if you're going to schmooze and mingle, you shouldn't do it on an empty stomach," I offered, leading Delilah over to the buffet table. "I saw mini quiches on the way over."

"You have some lovely ideas," she chuckled. "Lead the way."

As the night progressed, Delilah and I spent most of it together. There was something about her that piqued my interest, and it was more than just because she resembled the Malfoys. Honestly, she had a caustic wit and a sharp tongue, but also had a surprisingly crass sense of humor that had me nearly choking on my champagne.

And thanks to her, I was able to talk to quite a few people for a lot longer than I normally would be able to. And I grabbed ahold of that opportunity with both hands to dazzle them.

"…and that's why I think that the European governments' fiscal policy is going to eventually run into a lot of trouble," I said, relying on some of my previous world's knowledge of the introduction of the upcoming Euro and European Union. "It's simply too ambitious and will force the richer countries to constantly bail out the badly managed and poorer ones."

"Hmm, yes, I can see how that monetary policy could indeed cause some friction," a member of the Parliament mused thoughtfully. "But surely the proposed European Union will have some good changes?"

"Oh, no doubt, and the idea to open up borders to allow free passage between member countries of the EU will definitely bring in a lot of much needed trade and tourism, but it will no doubt cause a jump in crime as people hop between nations," I replied. "And I imagine France will end up leading whatever coalition winds up forming in Europe, or at least be one of its loudest voices. It's simply too wealthy, and Germany too recently freed from the Iron Curtain, for any other country aside from our own to oppose any policies it comes up with."

"That is true, the wealthier countries will always lead, and the rest will follow," the Parliament member said with a nod. "I'm quite surprised to hear such a well thought out overview of the international scene from such a young man. Pleased, too, of course, but surprised. Do you have any plans for furthering your education?"

"Yes, I plan on attending Oxford for my future studies upon graduating high school," I said to the government official, and he bobbed his head, sending a glance to Miss Hunt who was still by my side.

"If I'm not mistaken, you are already attending Oxford, correct, Miss Hunt?" he inquired, and Delilah nodded back demurely.

"That is correct, Lord Bennington," she said. "I started my first year earlier in October."

"I went to Oxford myself as a young lad. Good school. Why, I tell you…" he then went off on a tangent about his younger days, and I listened politely but with only half an ear. Eventually Delilah saved us both.

"Oh, is that Winston Westforth? I must go meet him and give him my father's greetings," Delilah said, tugging me away from the chatty lord.

"Thank you!" I whispered to her gratefully.

"Lord Bennington is a bit of a windbag," she admitted in a low voice. "I thought I would fall asleep if he kept talking about his time on the rowing team!"

"Well, let's hope Mr. Westforth is less talkative," I hummed.

"Oh, he is," Delilah said in relief. "But before we go over there, I need something to drink."

We grabbed flutes of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter, and also decided to grab some finger food from the buffet before approaching Mr. Westforth.

A rather sharp edge on one of the decorative fake flowers near a platter of shrimp puffs caused Delilah to hiss and jerk her right hand back. I saw a droplet of blood well up on the tip of her index finger, and frowned.

"That's no good, we should get it fixed up," I said, grabbing her right hand to inspect the wound.

"It's fine, just a paper cut," she said, blushing a bit as I held her hand. "A nick at best."

"It wouldn't do to leave it alone, either," I replied, still not letting go. I pulled from one of my enchanted pockets a small jar of medicinal Wiggenweld Cream, and smeared a dab of the blue cream over her injured finger.

"Just leave it alone for a bit, and it should be healed by the end of the party," I assured her.

"Thank you," she said.

I waved it off as no big deal, but I could tell she appreciated my gesture from the way she nodded happily afterwards.

We chatted with a few other people for a bit, even swinging around to the Finch-Fletchleys for a brief stint. During which, I was pulled away by Justin's mother while Delilah spoke with her husband.

"So, how has your evening been?" she asked with an amused smile. I raised an eyebrow at her, and she just smirked back.

"Well, Mrs. Finch-Fletchley…"

"Please, call me Josephine," she chuckled. "My full name is such a mouthful, after all. And call my husband 'Earl.'"

"Of course, Josephine," I said, conceding. "Anyways, it's been going well."

"You've been treating Delilah well, I hope?" she inquired.

"Of course," I said with a nod.

"She's a good girl. Very dutiful, even if her father is a boor and her mother a pushover," Josephine said with a sad shake of her head. "It's been a while since she's actually smiled at one of these events."

She then narrowed her eyes at me. "I am good friends with her mother. Don't make her cry, understood?"

"Of course not," I assured her. "Besides, it's only platonic."

"That's what all youngsters say," Josephine chortled. "That, or they're convinced their crushes are 'true love.'"

"Yeah, you don't have to worry about that," I said, wincing. Being a man in a teen's body had been… awkward, to say the least.

'Thank whatever gods exist Occlumency helped with controlling my freaking emotions and hormones,' I thought to myself. Being attracted to younger women was still weird, as I felt mentally older than I actually was physically, but I could deal with it like a mature adult that I technical both was, and wasn't.

"Come along, then, you best return to your gentlemanly duties of escorting Delilah about," Josephine snickered, before leading me back to the group and passing me back to the silver-haired young woman.

After that meeting with the Finch-Fletchleys – and promising Justin I'd be seeing him this summer for extra lessons – the event started to wind down. Delilah held back the urge to yawn, and I snickered a bit at the sight.

"It's getting late," I pointed out, pretending to be completely innocent when she shot a suspicious glare my way.

"It is. I best be preparing to leave. My ride was going to be here at half past ten, and that only a few minutes away," Delilah hummed as she glanced over at a wall mounted clock.

"Shall I escort you out?" I offered, and she smiled at me, this time showing a genuine one, before a teasing one quickly replaced it.

"How properly gentlemanly of you," she said, but she didn't let go, and so I took her to the coat room so she could grab her warm jacket to protect against the dismal December chill. Then we both walked outside, where her car would pick her up.

As we waited, we chatted a bit more to keep our minds off the cold. It wasn't snowing yet, but I had the feeling it wouldn't be long before London had itself a White Christmas.

"I cannot believe it," she murmured, looking at her finger. The cut she'd gotten had been small, but thanks to my medicine, there was already no trace of so much as a scratch on her.

"An old family recipe," I claimed proudly. "It's quite fascinating what old knowledge just might be applicable to modern day problems."

"My father would definitely be interested in these products of yours if they're all as incredible as this one," Delilah claimed, marveling at how quickly the cut had healed. "It's almost magical!"

"I know right?" I said with a chuckle.

"I will see about setting up a meeting with him," she declared, giving me a nod. "If nothing else, he will desire to have you on his side before his opponents on the board can steal you away for themselves."

"That's the way business works," I said with a shake of my head. "Ruthless."

"It can be," she said, then perked up as a car drew up to the hotel's curb. "There's my ride."

Delilah walked up to it, and was about to open the door, when she paused, a frown slipping onto her face as she stared into the tinted windows at the driver.

"You're not…" she began, but was cut off as the window was rolled down and a pair of hands lashed out and pulled her inside the vehicle.

"What the hell?!" I exclaimed, and immediately started to run over to her, but froze as I found a gun pointing right at my chest. I blinked, and then staggered back as a loud "Bang!" tore through the still night air.

I fell onto my ass as Delilah began shouting for someone to save her. Or maybe she was shouting for someone to help me? I couldn't tell as the car immediately drove off, escaping from the hotel parking lot with a squeal of tires.

'Kidnappers?' I thought in disbelief while clutching my chest and lying on the side of the road. Even if my suit protected me from bullets, being shot still hurt like a bitch.

I pushed my incredulity aside and staggered to my feet, a scowl slipping onto my face. Delilah had just been abducted right in front of me, and someone had tried to murder me to cover it up!

Well, joke was on them! They weren't dealing with the average schmuck! I was a teenager with the mind of an adult and a house full of magical stuff at my disposal.

"You won't get away this!" I vowed darkly, before staggering to the nearby alleyway, the bullet that'd hit me clinking to the ground. I could hear shouting and screams from the people back at the hotel, and they were no doubt already calling the police.

'Like hell I'm going to let anybody but me find those bastards!' I declared to myself.

"Inky!" I snarled out, and he popped up in front of me. His already wide eyes widened further, before a dark expression crossed over his face.

"Young Master Eddy! What happened?!"

"Can you trace something back to its owner?" I demanded, and he blinked.

"Inky can, under certain circumstances."

"There's a bullet back there," I said, jerking my thumb towards the spot I'd been shot. "Can you use magic to find the person who use it to shoot me?"

"Inky can try," the House Elf replied, scrunching his eyes up.

"If you can't, then go into the hotel and find some hair from a silver-haired woman named Delilah Hunt. Use that to find the girl they kidnapped," I requested. "Oh, and if you can modify memories, do so. Make it so that nobody remembers it was me who got shot tonight."

"Inky will obey," he said solemnly.

"Wait!" I said before he could pop away. "Take me back home, first."

He bobbed his head, and a second later I was back in my apartment, alone as Inky left to do as I'd asked. While he was gone, I began to load up on potions, runic equipment, and enchanted items.

I was not going to let anybody get away with shooting me, nor would I tolerate somebody kidnapping a woman right before my eyes. This? This was now personal.

Author's Note:
Happy New Year, everyone!
If you like my work, there are early chapters available on Patty-ron under Akashicrecordstrue! Or Ko-Fi under Akashicrecords! Every little bit helps!

I have also published a story on Amazon! Look up "God of the Freshmen" if you want to read a story about a trickster god who is banished to Earth to live as a teenager after a prank goes horribly wrong!