Closed; The Final Act - Part II
Terry had never tried landing from a portkey with someone in his arms, let alone someone so fragile and burned. He felt Pansy coming down with them, everyone latched on to each other as he'd never seen before. While he'd been a part of the D.A. he'd never really been on the firing line before. Looking around he saw in slow motion, Cecilia rushing
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It was going to take more time - hell, he didn't even know how long it had been - to put this whole fiasco together. Granted, it seemed like it'd been somehow successful, but that didn't change anything. He'd left oblivators to do what they did and gotten the joyful tasks of tracking down Harry and everyone else that had apparently been involved in this.
St. Mungo's was in disarray, even more so than it generally was. At least that made it easier to find people who knew things, when you knew how to navigate chaos.
"What in the hell? Explanations, right now," Ron barked.
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He was leaving Skylar's room, knowing that she was calling Reid in and wanting nothing to do with that particular exchange. Not to mention, he needed to contact Kingsley and figure out what had gone down after he'd taken the Portkey to the hospital.
He didn't expect Ron to be waiting there in the middle of the lobby.
"It was a fucking mess, mate," he said, sighing wearily. "I didn't have a bloody minute to think-"
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"If it looks like a mess now, no wonder you've all ended up here! Kingsley sent me to figure out what in the bloody hell happened." He made a harsh gesture over his shoulder, needing to get out of a lobby that was crawling with people who would start hanging on their every word in about thirty seconds.
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He gestured to Ron to follow him, trying to find a dark, quite part down a hallway where the two of them could talk. Their arrival had caused a bit of a stir, the media already trying to find their way instead.
Thankfully, St. Mungo's had a strict no-journalists policy.
Once he found a secluded enough area he turned back to Ron.
"Have you rounded them all up?" he asked.
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"I have people triple checking just to be sure, but it looked like we got everyone." Then again, who was to say no one had managed to disappear between the time Harry did and when they all arrived. Not that much time had passed and once that many witches and wizards were on the scene, there wasn't much else to be done by the Muggles except give it up.
"What the hell happened? Of all the dumb bullshit we've pulled and you go fucking off to bring down - what's it? - a cult with amateurs?"
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Harry had a migraine, certainly not helped by Reid's crack to his face, and he didn't want to have to explain himself to Ron.
But he knew he had to, knew he had to fill him in on the events of the night, the timeline of it all.
"Your brother showed up with Jacobs and Terry Boot- letting me know that Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson went missing-
"We checked the wall at the shop and all that research Hermione pulled just clicked and I didn't know how much time we had- I just had to make the most of the luck we had-
"They were tied to bloody stakes, Ron. Greengrass and Parksinon might not make it out of here alive-"
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"George was there?" At least he wasn't as much of an amateur as he could have been. Ron was even willing to accept that Jacobs might be decent to have on hand. Boot, though? "Who all went in with you?"
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He didn't want to admit that he had felt a surge of adrenaline when George and the rest arrived on his doorstep. He had wanted the case to be over so badly, he didn't even think about alerting the others (though his shame over his suspension didn't help). He raked his hand through his hair, tugging on it as he exhaled.
"George, Jacobs, Boot and-" Harry hesitated, scrunching his face up as he looked back up to Ron. "Skylar came along- though there was no convincing her to stay-"
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"Real bang up job you've done today, Harry." He scrubbed at his eyes. "Okay. Walk me through it since I'm going to have to write this up while you're off being suspended and shite. Why'd they come to you? Where did it start since I didn't even know Parkinson and Greengrass were MIA."
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Not like his wishes meant a damn thing to anyone these days. He leaned against the wall behind them, crossing one ankle over the other as he rubbed at his face, knocking his glasses askew.
He needed a shower.
And a drink.
But he could only have one of those.
"I was at the flat with Skylar when George's Patronus appeared saying that he was on his way. When he arrived he had Jacobs and Boot with him. I don't know why me- I guess because I was the lead on the case-" Was. Because he was suspended.
"Jacobs was supposed to meet Greengrass and Parkinson for dinner but while their stuff was there, they weren't. The Extendable Ears actually picked up something useful and my first thought was that list of churches Hermione gave me-"
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"So, of course, you went off to check them immediately, wands at the ready. And no one watching you back."
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"Basically," was all he said, the fuzzy face of his best mate in front of him still somehow boring into him, even if he couldn't make out one freckle from the next on his skin.
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"You get suspended - which I don't even want to know the details of - then take off to save the day with your girlfriend, my brother, Jacobs, Boot - which what the hell even if that - and a lot of hope. People get shot from what I've heard. And yet you lived to talk about it."
Ron huffed a breath, running out of steam a lot faster than he did most of the time, with most people. At least Harry looked like he knew this hadn't been his greatest hour - outcome not withstanding.
"How does this shite keep happening to you, mate?"
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Ron wasn't wrong. He hardly was when it came to this sort of stuff. Harry hadn't really been thinking, been too consumed by the case, taking it too personally- as he always did.
It was his biggest fault when it came to his work. Kingsley had said it to him time and time again. And Harry always said he'd work on it but he felt like it just got worse.
"I dunno," he said, opening his eyes then, looking to Ron. "You think if I knew I'd be here?"
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"Yeah, you would be." Some things didn't change. Harry running headlong toward danger without fulling thinking through a plan had pretty much been his M.O. since they were 11. Ron would know, he was the same way most of the time. Harry just had the additional perk of a lot of additional expectation Ron didn't have to deal with.
"Everyone made it out, right?"
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"Every one of us, yeah-" he said, nodding. "I dunno about the status of the victims-"
Greengrass and Parkinson had looked unrecognizable.
"They were both unconscious, both beyond anything we'd seen before in terms of the previous victims-
Then he remembered something.
"There was another church, one in Brent Cross- it had the same set up- as if they were planning another show like they did tonight-"
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