This Time
It was a matter of five minutes. Harry and Christopher went to the industrial area of Little Whinging; Ron and Dean went to Ettington. Chris was a bother for Harry, but there was nothing to do about that, and this wasn't of any concern right now. Besides, it wasn't his first time out on the field anymore, so Harry trusted him a little more now, but he and Ron had been fighting side by side for years, so if Harry would have had the chance to choose, he would have chosen Ron.
There were four large warehouses in a square - a good location for a trap. Harry and Chris didn't know if James was in any of these warehouses, and if so, which one. There had to be guards here, or at least someone. As Harry looked around, however, he couldn't spot a single soul. Not even Muggle workers. No one. He and Christopher stood hidden beneath Harry's Invisibility Cloak, so to anyone else, the square was entirely empty.
"There should be someone here, shouldn't there?" Christopher whispered, making Harry very uncomfortable.
He nodded, thinking for a second. "If James really is here, then they wouldn't just leave him unattended. Even if they're certain we wouldn't find him, at least someone should be here."
"What if he was here, but they moved him because the one man who had gotten away told them that we might be coming?"
Harry took a moment to ponder the possibility. If that were the case, then they would be back to square one again, not knowing who to believe - Burke or Greengrass. Or neither. What if both of them had had the same idea: to send Harry and his team into a trap? Splitting them up certainly hightened the chance of them losing against whoever might be waiting.
"Or he's just in Ettington like Finneas said," Chris continued. He was obviously thinking way more optimistically about this whole thing.
Harry wasn't too sure himself, but he decided to push his doubts aside and just get to work. The life of a man depended on him. "We'll check out that one first," he said quietly, pointing at the warehouse right across from them, and Christopher nodded. "Watch my back."
Harry pulled the Cloak off so they could move better and faster. He shoved the soft fabric into his pocket and tightened the grip on his wand. So many memories flooded Harry's brain, sending shivers through his nervous system. He didn't want to think about that now. He could't afford to lose his calm now; there was too much at stake.
Back to back, they moved toward the warehouse without being attacked. It was almost too easy. The warehouse was filled with metal and wood, but there was not a single person. Harry and Chris split up inside the warehouse to look through everything, but they came up empty.
The second warehouse was the same. There were heavy machines, but no one. Harry was starting to feel doubts again. He was certain that if James had been here at all, Avery surely would have left Harry a message or something. If he had had the feeling that Harry would get here, he would want to mock him that he had been too late.
Chris must have noticed that Harry was hesitating, deep in thought, because he came over to where Harry was standing and said, "We still have two more."
Harry only nodded wordlessly, but he knew that Christopher was right. Just because the first two were empty didn't mean that the other two would be empty, too. Then again, if there was no one here, Avery might have given up this place already, and he would only do this if he had another plan. Harry wasn't sure if he was more frightened of that - finally having caught up to Avery and gaining the advantage with three of his men imprisoned, only to have him bounce back immediately with another plan.
They left the warehouse and moved on to the one next to that, opposite the first one they had looked at. From opening the door alone, Harry could feel that something was different. The door was harder to open and was pushing back as if there was a spell on it that was wearing off already. Harry knew that there must be something here. He pushed his full weight into the door, and it gave way.
What they found took Harry's breath away for just a split-second before he broke into a run. All the way across the large warehouse sat a man, his hands tied behind his back and his legs tied together. His head was hanging down, his chin resting on his chest as his mouth was opened, dripping drool and blood into his lap. Harry fell to his knees in front of the man, Chris following. He broke the magical chains that held the man in an uncomfortable position, and his hands immediately slid forward on the ground.
"James?" Harry asked carefully. "James Patterson?"
The man slowly raised his head to reveal a beaten and bruised face, deformed in a mess of black and blue. "Harry Potter?" the man croaked, sounding as if he hadn't had water in a while. One eye was swollen shut, but the one that wasn't was filling with tears. "Harry Potter!" He sounded relieved now, happy even, flooding Harry with the same emotions.
"Yes, James, I'm here," Harry said. "We're going to get you out of here."
"James, I'm Christopher Allen. I'm an Auror," Chris said with a soft voice to show James that he was here to help, too. "Can you stand?"
Harry had to be honest with himself: he was impressed. Chris was following protocol perfectly - introducing himself by name and occupation, then asking about the man's condition. Harry would have done that himself, but seeing as James had already known who Harry was, he had assumed that he also knew why he was here.
"They broke my ankles," James replied, his voice weak.
"Are you okay if I fix it before we bring you to St. Mungo's?" Harry asked.
When James nodded, Harry whipped his wand at the ankles. When he heard a strange sound and James rolled his ankles with a relieved face, Harry was glad that he had gotten a little training from Madam Pomfrey after he had left Hogwarts. He should have done that a lot sooner, considering how often he had gotten hurt in his life.
"He left something for you," James said suddenly.
Harry frowned, but he shouldn't have been surprised. He should have known. "What is it?"
Instead of answering, James only pointed straight ahead. Harry and Chris turned their heads around. There was writing on the door they had come through that looked exactly the same as the writing on the wall in Diagon Alley.
"You win this time," Chris read in a whisper, then looked at Harry, who kept his eyes focused on the message.
This time. Avery was planning on taking more. He was confident enough to believe that he would win the other times. Or maybe he was faking confidence if he had lost this one to Harry. Or maybe that was exactly what he wanted Harry to think - the he had lost. The worst thing was that they had no idea what they were up against. They didn't know how many people Avery had and who they were or how well-trained they were.
"Let's get you to the hospital," Harry said, turning away from the door and forcing a smile at James.
---
"When can we start asking him questions?" Harry asked the nurse that had looked after James for the past half an hour while Harry and Christopher had been waiting on the other side of the curtain that shielded the man from view.
They had sent Patronuses to Ron and Dean, who were safe now, too, and on their way back to the Ministry. Harry and Chris were going to have to hurry back there as well because they still had Finneas Greengrass to deal with who - as Frank Burke had said - had sent them into a trap. A letter had been sent to James' wife Emmilia. She had shown up five minutes later and given Harry and Chris a hug and was now with her husband.
"He should be able to be released in two days. You can come to see him tomorrow. He should have today to rest at least." The nurse checked something on a clipboard in her hand. "There was a lot of damage done to his internal organs. He was hit with quite a lot of different spells over a longer period of time, and it will take us a few hours to unravel all of those."
Harry nodded. He didn't want to pressure James into anything if he wasn't feeling well, but that didn't change the face that he had information that might be very valuable to the Aurors. As long as James was resting and with his wife, there was nothing for Harry and Christopher to do, so they Disapparated back to the Ministry.
Ron and Dean hurried towards the two when they entered the office. "We were just on our way to talk to the prisoners," said Ron even before they reached each other.
"Let's go," Harry replied, taking a swerve for the door to the hallway.
They took big strides along the corridor, the sound of their soles on the stone floor echoing around them. "How did it go?" Dean asked.
"We got him," Harry answered. "He's at St. Mungo's now, resting, and we can question him tomorrow."
The others nodded, understanding, but they had no time to discuss any further because they had reached the Interrogartion rooms. Dean pulled open the door to reveal Greengrass still sitting on the little bench, his back against the wall. When he looked up at them, he seemed genuinely surprised. Maybe he hadn't expected them to come back, or not so soon. Or not so self-assured.
"Thank you, Finneas," Harry lied through his teeth. "We found James. He's recovering at the hospital now."
The prisoner's eyes widened. "He- You-" he stammered. "You're welcome."
Harry wanted to grin so badly. He could see how playing along was Finneas' best bet - they had promised to let him go, after all. But that wasn't going to happen. He was going to stay here until they figured out what exactly to do with him. The Aurors were maybe silent for one second too long, or maybe something in their faces gave them away. Maybe Greengrass felt something in the air, some discomfort or too much pleasure. Whatever it was, it made him lunge himself at Harry and bring him to the ground, his hands slipping right out of their cuffs as they wrapped around Harry's throat.
Harry could hear his friends shouting for a single second before his ears seemed to shut down, and the only thing he could hear was a deep buzzing. As his vision started to blur, the only thing Harry could see was Finneas' face hovering above his own, twisted and contorted with hatred. His lungs were screaming for air that wasn't coming as his throat was clogged. Time seemed to move so slowly, seconds simultaneously blending into minutes and hours.
In an instant, the two hands vanished from Harry's neck, and he desperately drew a deep breath. Harry coughed as he sat up. His friends were taking care of Finneas, who had been hit with a spell Harry hadn't heard. Blood was dripping from his wrists and hands, both bruised, and Harry supposed that was how he had gotten out of his restraints.
Dean reached out a hand for Harry and helped him to his feet. "Are you okay?"
Harry nodded wordlessly and coughed one more time. Christopher hurried to get an Auror who would bring Greengrass to Azkaban, and even though Harry had been against doing that to Miles, he had no objections now. Greengrass deserved some discipline.
"Let's talk to Burke," Harry said to Ron before turning to Dean. "Are you okay guarding his door?"
Dean nodded. "Of course."
Frank Burke looked at Harry and Ron with quite a different expression than Finneas had, and unrecognisable from the expression he had worn the first time Harry had come to talk to him. He looked hopeful, maybe, and there was a glimmer of something else that Harry couldn't yet pinpoint.
"Did you get him?" Burke asked even before the Aurors had a chance to say anything.
"We did," Harry said.
"How is he?" Frank asked.
"He's alive," Ron answered, then checked Frank's wrists behind his back.
Ron looked at Harry, confirming that the cuffs were in place and nothing seemed wrong. With a nod from Harry, Ron unchained the man whose eyes widened. He brought his hands to his lap and rubbed his wrists appreciatively, but his eyes were confused.
"Why did you help us?" Harry asked in response to the unspoken question of why they were letting him go. "You're Avery now, aren't you? Why not let Finneas do what he wants with us?"
Burke blinked twice before shrugging. "He's worse than you deserve," he replied dryly. "Besides, I told you my name, didn't I?"
"So did he," Ron argued.
"Fair point," their prisoner said. "Even if I told you I'm not like him, you wouldn't have to believe me. Helping you get Patterson could have just been another step in my plan to gain your trust."
Harry smiled. He was starting to like this man. "You're right," he said. "We don't have to believe you. But you can still make your case if you want to be let out of this room."
Frank shrugged and leaned back against the wall, looking quite comfortable. "You don't have to let me out of here." He shrugged again, what made Harry frown. "Just don't be stupid enough to get yourself killed."