Chapter 6
MACUSA’s Auror office setup was vastly different from the Ministry’s, Harry thought as he walked into the vast space Auror Underwood called the Bullpen. Where as in the Ministry, the branch was filled with compact offices, this area was open. Desks were lined up in the vast space, creating separate work spaces for each Auror but without the barriers of walled offices. In the corner was a cleared out area, a small kitchen set up inside. Harry could smell the coffee from the entrance.
A group of Aurors crowded into that kitchen area, talking among themselves. Harry could see Graves in her black and gold robes, standing in the centre of the group, looking grim. She had her hands on her hips and was listening carefully to an Auror dressed in muggle clothing.
“At last count, that’s 12 dead No-Maj’s. We obliviated 42 witnesses, along with the first police responders. Jennings worked the reporters so they are printing it as a No-Maj incident. Kowalski managed to secure the security cameras and alter them so no one will see anything suspicious when the No-Maj’s review the footage.” The man was saying, pulling at the sleeve of his jacket nervously.
Graves nodded.
“Good. Any ideas on where these bastards apparated to?” She asked.
“Still no leads Director.” Another man dressed in muggle clothes said. He looked nervously at another Auror in a leather coat standing next to him.
Graves looked at them both. She raised an eyebrow in question, noting their reluctance to meet her gaze.
“Anything to add? Sanders? Kowalski?” She asked.
The Auror in the leather coat shifted uncomfortably under his bosses gaze. Behind Harry, James gasped.
“That’s Quintin Kowalski!” He muttered, looking at the Auror dressed in muggle clothing. He was clutching a clipboard to his chest. “He was on the American Quidditch team in 2014. Mum took me, Al and Lily to see it when she was reporting on the world cup. He scored the ninth goal in the Jamaica/US match where the Keeper fell off her broom.”
Harry looked in surprise at his sons comment. James had only been 11 when he had gone with Ginny and his siblings to the World Cup (Harry had been absent due to some big raid. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember now what had happened but he regrated missing out on being with his family at the Cup) and the fact that he remembered the incident and was able to recognise the wizard was impressive. But James had an incredible memory for Quidditch and was looking at the Auror with something like delight.
“Rumours are he’s a Legilimens.” The younger Potter added. Harry eyed the wizard in question. He was dark haired and with a stocky yet muscular build.
“Ma’am, there was an issue with the Obliviation.” Kowalski muttered, looking down at his feet, knuckles white on the clipboard.
“Oh?” Graves asked. Her tone was flat. Clearly she was waiting to figure out if it was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Ma’am, one of the No-Maj students started experiencing some distress when we were processing them. He needed to go to the bathroom and we thought it would be no harm so I took him there. I went back to check on him and bring him back for processing and he was gone.”
“Gone?” Graves asked.
“I don’t know how. He must have walked right past us but the No-Maj’s said they didn’t see the kid leave.”
“Is he a risk?” Graves asked.
The second Auror, Sanders, shook his head.
“The cops found him in one of the hallways and brought him in. There was an outside chance he may had heard something, hence we tapped him for Obliviation but he wasn’t on the ground. He is low risk.”
“But still a risk” Graves muttered. “Go through the records. If he’s a student, find him and Obliviate him. I don’t want any bloody rumours leaking on this and No-Maj kids and their social media have become a nightmare in recent years. I don’t want this up on Twit or Facediary or whatever site is popular now. If he isn’t a student…well, just find him and get it done.”
Both Aurors nodded.
“Yes Ma’am.” Sanders replied, looking relived at their clear dismissal.
Graves turned to face the rest of the group of Aurors who all stood to attention, knowing their boss was about to say something important.
“Alright. You all know the drill. At this point, we have no leads so any of you with contacts in the area, I want them checked out. If anyone knows anything, I want to know it yesterday. I know you are all working on other cases but this takes priority. I want feet on the ground at all times, at least two teams patrolling and a sweep done for magical residue. Post bulletins up in all the communities across the country and I want a check in from our smaller offices, even the Indian reserves. Get our liaisons out there, looking for any information. These bastards need to be caught before they can do any more damage, understood?”
The whole group nodded.
“Go!” Graves barked.
There was a flurry of movement as the Aurors split off into pairs, moving with purpose towards different parts of the room, leaving Graves standing by herself.
Harry approached her with caution, freezing when her dark eyes landed on him.
“You and I need to talk.” She said before turning and opening a door. She strode through, Harry and James following behind her. Archie had already left, following another Auror into the depths of the department.
The room the three walked into was a small office. Inside, Harry was relieved to see, was a desk with paperwork scattered across it. He wasn’t the only one who didn’t read his files.
In the middle of the paperwork, a cat lay in a ball of black fur. It looked up as the group entered, its yellow eyes fixing on Graves who stopped before the desk and pulled her black robes off. Without looking, she threw the robes to the side.
James was impressed to see the Robes fly across the room to a coat stand in the corner and rest on a hook next to another black leather coat.
Graves didn’t even look as she strode to the desk, giving the cat a pat as she sat down. She looked again at Harry and James.
“Firstly, I need to apologise for my behaviour at your Ministry.” She said, holding Harry’s gaze for long enough for it to become unnerving. “It was unprofessional of me to pull you up in front of your Aurors.” She stated.
James didn’t have to look at Harry to feel his dads surprise at the Directors sudden change. Harry, for his part was gobsmacked until James had the sense to elbow him in the side, reminding him of where he was.
“That’s alright.” Harry said hurriedly. “I truly deserve it. For my part, I want to apologise for not informing you of the breakout sooner. I don’t know if lives could have been saved but I know that I put you under a lot of stress by making you find out this way.”
It wasn’t a great apology but it seemed to be enough, Graves nodding.
“So.” She said. She raised a hand and made a odd gesture. Behind Harry and James, two chairs moved. Graves nodded at them, indicating for the men to sit as she lowered her hand to the desk. “In the interest of cooperation between America and Britain, let’s start from the beginning.” She continued. She leant forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “You’ve dealt with this bastards before and know all the information on them. So talk. Who are we dealing with here and what is their plan?”
Harry gave a shrug as he sat down in the provided chair, not at all alarmed at its movement, the display of wandless magic unnerving to James.
“Most are older wizards, survivors of the 2nd Wizard War of Britain. And a few younger ones, easily lead. A few years ago, they tried to stage a coup against the Ministry with the desire to take over Wizard England. We uncovered their plot and they were all arrested and have spent more than 20 years locked up. If they have any aims, it should be to attack the Ministry and attack me. Not go after Muggles in a different country.”
Graves nodded.
“Unless this is somehow about you.” She replied.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.
Graves leant back in her chair, looking thoughtful.
“Well, you are the one who captured them, correct?” She asked.
Harry nodded.
“And you are the saviour of the British wizarding world?” Graves continued. James fought back the urge to correct her. His dad was the saviour of the Wizard world, not just in Britain. But then he remembered, the American’s had no involvement in the 2nd Wizard War. To them, his dad was just another person, a normal man. They didn't care for his struggles as a child and young man, his fight against Voldemort.
“So I guess the logical question is….Is there something here in America that is precious to you? Something that these monsters think they can use to get at you?”
Harry shook his head, certainty in his voice.
“There is nothing.” He replied.
Graves looked at him for a moment, her dark eyes meeting his green ones.
“For all our sake, I hope that’s true.”
-----
It was 58 minutes later that Draco followed Hermione out of her office and into the larger corridor. The Minister of Magic clutching a small notebook in her hand (It was the closest small item she could find to turn into the key)
Hermione had been very busy. Under Draco’s watch, the woman had charmed a Portkey, sent off a very fast Owl to President Quahog and contacted an escort at MACUSA to meet Draco on his arrival (Draco had only just managed to keep his anger in check. It was like those early years after the Battle of Hogwarts, where it seemed his every move had been monitored. He was a grown man. He did not need a chaperone)
Once in the large corridor, Hermione turned to Draco. She held out a piece of folded Parchment to the wizard.
“Get that to Harry.” She ordered.
Draco took the parchment and slipped it into his pocket wordlessly. Hermione could clearly see his annoyance.
She signed before doing something she had never done before. She reached up and pulled Draco into a hug.
She could feel through his robes that the man was tense, the wait for a portkey doing nothing to alieve the panic at the danger his son was in. Yet Hermione was grateful. Years ago, Draco would never had even given her this chance, would never have agreed to her plan over his own.
Life had not been fair to Draco. As a child, he had been controlled by his family, pushed into doing things he never wanted to do, to be on the wrong side of a war he never wanted to be part of. He had spent most of his adult life trying to repent for those exact actions and had been forced to witness the fallout of the war rain down on his son.
Draco had every right to be angry, to be resentful and hostile towards the world that had so damaged him and his child. Yet he was a good man, despite what less forgiving witches and wizards said about him.
He could have walked out on Hermione when she asked him to wait. He didn’t even have to bring this information to her in the first place. Hermione knew that Draco had an enormous network of people across the world who would be willing to help him for a favour and they wouldn’t necessarily use legal means to do it. But he had come to Hermione. Even as he was angry at her, Draco had trusted Hermione to help him.
“I swear, I will do everything to get your son home safe.” Hermione found herself promising.
Draco didn’t relax, even as Hermione released her grip on him but Hermione didn’t let that get to her. Draco’s grey eyes met hers and for a moment, Hermione knew they understood each other.
Slowly, Hermione passed the Portkey to Draco who took it in both hands.
“Good luck. Bring them both home.” She found herself saying as the Portkey activated.
------
“So we have nothing.” Graves said, throwing down her quill on the desk. The black cat mewed next to her and absentmindedly, she reached up and stroked the creatures head. On the opposite side of the desk, Harry lifted his glasses to rub at his eyes. The hours had passed by, both Aurors managing to slip into a truce of sorts, more intent on working together then trying to assign blame. Harry was barely aware of the time passing as he and Graves discussed battle plans, strategies and tried to figure out what the Death Eaters were planning.
Occasionally, other Aurors had entered the room, handing files to Graves and giving her more information to work with. Sometimes they would stay for a little while to help before Graves ordered them to other tasks.
Files had been pulled up from the depths of MACUSAs archives, statements from the muggle witnesses and Aurors on scene had been read and re-read by both. And yet, after so many hours of work, Harry felt no closer to an answer.
It was now sometime in the early morning, America time and Harry was becoming very aware of the fatigued look on Graves face. He himself had been in her position many times, when the need to complete a mission overwrote all else, when even his health and wellbeing had been set aside to ensure the job got done. Harry could guess that the woman had not slept in a long time and was only standing through her own stubbornness.
James had already succumbed, falling asleep on the chair in the corner. Harry couldn’t fault him. Even without the time zones messing with his body clock, James was probably suffering from boredom. He didn’t have much interest in the behind the scenes work Graves and Harry were doing. James was all about the action, like Harry had been at that age, when he had been a junior Auror.
Sighing, Harry picked up his quill again, underlining a few words from the muggle students statement.
“Looking for our lord.” Harry read aloud. The muggle had overheard a few words from the Death Eaters during the incident but they weren’t making much sense. “Who? Who were they looking for? And why?”
“And more to the point, did they find this Lord?” Graves asked.
“The collage. Is there anything magical kept on the grounds? Maybe its in reference to some artefact?” Harry guessed, peering at the statement as if it would suddenly give him the answer.
“Director Graves, ma’am?” A voice broke through as the woman was about to answer. Blinking, Harry looked up from the statement.
One of the Aurors was standing at the doorframe.
“Yes Claire?” Graves asked, looking up. Harry saw her grab the hem of her shirt, trying to pull it into some form of order. She then reached to tie back her dark hair which she had let loose during the night.
“What time is it?” Harry found himself asking, trying to regain his baring.
“It’s 6am in the morning Sir. Ma’am, the President sent me to get you. We have a visitor from the Ministry of Magic.” The Auror said. She didn’t blink at Harry or her dishevelled boss or the mess in the office.
“Who?” Graves asked, looking surprised at Harry. Harry returned her look. He had no idea who Hermione would send.
“A Mr Draco Malfoy.” The younger Auror replied.
“Draco?” Harry asked. “What is he doing here?” He looked at Graves again. She was now much more caught up on the Azkaban escape and knew who Draco now was.
She gave him a look before turning to Claire.
“Lead the way.” She sighed, placing the statement down and stepping away from the desk before striding towards the exit. The black cat jumped down off the desk and followed after its master. As she passed the door, Graves reached up and grabbed a long leather coat off its hook, shrugging it over her shoulders.
Harry turned to follow in the witches footsteps.
------
Albus had forgotten to draw the curtains again. The sun shining into his eyes making the young wizard groan as he slowly regained consciousness. The second through he had was that his body still ached from the unplanned apparition the day before and his neck was bent at an awkward angle, where he had slept against the sofa. The third thought he had was that there was something heavy on top of him.
Opening his eyes, it took Albus a few moments to realise what he was, as he looked up from the couch he was sprawled across. Scorpius was asleep next to him, still wrapped in the blue blanket, body half sprawled over Albus’ lap. On the table before them, Albus could see the remains of the tea he had forced on his boyfriend.
They had talked for hours (Well, Albus had. Scorpius had been quiet for a long time after the phone call before he had finally started to open up) Thankfully, after a while Scorpius had started to be his old self. Not quite as cheerful as normal but still, he was talking and that was enough for now.
Scorpius was still gripping his wand in his sleep and Albus didn’t think he was going to release it any time soon, awake or not, not that Albus was going to make him. Scorpius being armed was far more preferable then being unarmed. Albus didn’t know what was out there but Death Eaters on their Campus was not good.
Neither Albus nor Scorpius knew if there were other wizards at their school (they had never bothered to check) but neither were fools. Scorpius had told Albus long ago that the American wizards hadn’t been part of the 2nd Wizard War. Although Voldemort might have had supporters amongst the American Wizard population at the time, it was far too much of a co-incidence for Wizards wearing Death Eaters robes, the signs of Voldemorts supporters, to turn up at an American school so many years after his defeat unless something terrible was going on.
The fact that the sons of two notable wizards from that War were in the school could not be brushed aside as luck. It just couldn’t be.
Albus could only conclude that he and Scorpius were the targets of this attack.
But no, not Scorpius. They were after him, Albus Potter, the son of the boy who lived. It made sense that he was the target.
Scorpius’ family had been on the side of Voldemort, even if unwillingly. They would probably see him as one of their own and leave him alone. For once, Scorpius’ family name would help him rather than hurt him.
It had to be Albus they wanted. To hurt Albus could be seen as a way to hurt Harry Potter, to those who did not know or understand their estrangement. Something any dark wizard would want.
Reaching up, Albus removed the glasses from his face. He had been so tired the night before, he hadn’t realised he was still wearing them in replacement for his contacts. Running a hand across his face, he let out a soft groan as he tried to clear his head of the sleep induced haze.
There was a buzzing noise. Sliding the glasses back up his nose, Albus looked up at the small table. Next to the empty mug, the phone sat where he had left it after speaking to Mr Malfoy. The screen was lit up.
Careful to avoid waking Scorpius, Albus reached over and grabbed at the phone. He accepted the call, raising it to his ear.
“Hello?” He said quietly, trying not to wake Scorp.
“Al!” A panicky voice said. He recognised it.
“Alice?” He asked.
He had Alice had been in contact the night before, giving each other news of their respective partners. Sam had thankfully not seen anything but both girls were evidently fearful after what happened.
“Al, there is someone in our house.” Alice said in a panicky whisper.
Albus jolted up, almost dislodging Scorpius. Thankfully the blond haired wizard didn’t wake up.
“What?” He asked, gripping the phone hard.
“There’s a man in black in our home. Oh god!” Albus could hear her hyperventilating over the phone. “He’s got Sam.”
“Alice, I am coming over.” Albus stated, slipping out from under Scorpius and raising to his feet. “Don’t do anything. I am coming.”
“Hurry Albus.” Alice said before the line when dead.
Albus dropped the phone, grabbing at his shoes. For a second, he thought about waking Scorpius but decided against it. If this was the Death Eaters coming after him through Sam and Alice, there was no way Albus was going to put Scorpius in more danger. Scorpius had already been through so much and was safer in the apartment, away from all this.
Calling the Police also crossed his mind and was quickly dismissed. If this was another Deatheater attack, Muggles wouldn’t stand a chance. They would be walking into a slaughter. No, it had to be Albus alone.
Shoving his wand in his pocket Albus threw on a jacket he had been wearing the previous day before leaning down and placing a quick kiss on Scorpius forehead.
Then he turned and ran out the door.