HP-Fic: Circles & Lines - Chapter 4
Title: Circles and Lines - Chapter 4
Author: ninnive
Fandom: 'Harry Potter' by J. K. Rowling
Pairing: H/D (not yet), mentions of others
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mentions of violence and character deaths
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and this work of fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only.
A/N: This fic was begun before book 7 was out, so it is not DH-compliant
chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3
*
Tonks is dead. Tonks is dead. Tonks is dead… The sentence seemed to dance around in Harry's head, becoming quieter and quieter with every iteration until it settled as a faint buzzing that blocked his throat and pressed against the insides of his eyes, urging him to cry. And now it was he who got gripped around his arms and shaken softly until he could remember that this was not the time to fall apart.
"Hey, Harry," Ron said with tears in his voice. "Are you…" A sigh. "Will you be alright?"
Harry closed his eyes and gave a single, sharp nod. "Yeah," he croaked. "How… how did it happen?"
"In an ugly way - she's been ripped apart by some curse I didn't recognize. Maybe… maybe it was something else gone wrong; I've never seen something like that."
"Any idea who it was?"
A shrug, and then Ron said: "Right now they're trying to trace their wands."
Harry snorted. "Good luck with that - it's almost never successful!"
"I know. We have to try though. And I wondered - if maybe you could come help us."
"Help you? In trying to trace wand signatures?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"Not exactly, no," Ron said, gazing intently at Harry. "They left some kind of smoky snake-thing at the scene, and I thought you could try to talk to it…"
Harry felt an uncomfortable feeling build in his stomach, nesting beside the grief about Tonks; he'd never gotten comfortable with being a Parselmouth, no matter how often the rare ability had proved itself useful. But he nodded anyway. "Yes, of course I'll try it. It's the least I owe to Tonks."
*
Two hours later, Harry and Ron were finished at the crime scene, both of them pale like ghosts. The mangled body of Tonks had been taken away over an hour ago, but the heavy smell of blood still lingered in the air, reminding them of the awful sight. When they'd arrived, the curling and hissing smoke serpent had already begun to disintegrate, and Harry'd had a lot of trouble to get some understandable sentences out of it before it had vanished entirely. Most of them still didn't make any sense, but the repeated referring to the murdered woman as 'an unworthy half-blood' gave at least a clue to the political corner the attackers came out of. Surprisingly, the tracing of the wand signatures had shown some results, too. They still couldn't identify the curse that had been utilized, but they now knew that Tonks' murderer had used an ebony wand, not longer than nine and a half inches, with a core of dragon heartstring.
Ron was about to leave for Ollivander's to see if the old wandmaker could help them narrow down the possibilities, while Harry just wanted to go home, curl up in his bed and not think about what had happened. And after saying his good-byes to the team of Aurors and arranging a time to meet Ron tomorrow, he Apparated directly into his bedroom and tried to do exactly that.
With limited success. Every time he managed to chase this afternoon's gory images far enough away to be able to fall asleep, he fell right into his nightmares of the end of the war. And after he had woken from his own screams for the third time, Harry finally gave up. He dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen where Cally was already busy brewing a cup of chamomille tea, her panacea for her master's occasional bouts of nightmare-induced sleeplessness. Wordlessly, she handed him the cup when it was ready and then vanished into her room. Harry curled up on a kitchen chair, sipped his tea and tried to let the warmth of it get rid of the tension in his body.
*
Monday went by in irregular hops. While the early hours of the morning had gone by in no time, the meeting with the house-elves seemed to go on and on while Harry struggled to find the right words that would convince them to make reports about anything that might be connected to Ron's cases. Technically, Harry was the elves' employer, but in reality it was nearly impossible to get them to betray the families they worked for. When he was finally halfway sure that he'd get news of any suspicious on-goings, Harry sent the elves back and tried to get some of his paperwork done. But all he managed to do was staring blankly at the first sheet of paper, reading through it again and again without actually understanding a word.
The soft chime of the alarm charm he'd set yesterday finally pulled Harry out of his brooding. He had to meet Ron in 15 minutes and until then he really should have gotten his act together. The last thing his best friend needed now was having to worry about him on top of everything else. So, summoning some of the mental techniques that Remus had taught him during the war, Harry breathed in deeply, pushed the leaden feeling of lethargy out of his belly and forced himself to focus. He felt better almost instantly; not any less sad or angry, but no longer as if he was helplessly drowning inside of his own memories. He stood up, got his coat and Apparated to Diagon Alley.
Ron was already waiting for him, two boxes with spicy smelling food in hands. "I got us some Chinese take away. I don't really want to be in a crowd right now."
Harry nodded and took the box that Ron handed him. "Where to?"
"That clearing near the Lovegoods' house? It's quiet there."
"Eager to see some Crumple-Horned Snorkacks? Or is Luna back in the country?" Harry asked, genuinely curious but also a little worried. He'd never understood Ron's on-and-off relationship with Luna and found it very strange that Gabrielle obviously didn't mind. But then, most women seemed rather strange to him.
"No idea, mate," Ron answered carefully. He knew that Harry wasn't comfortable with the situation and usually avoided the topic if at all possible. "The last I heard from her was nearly two months ago. She was in Amsterdam then, doing research for a new book."
"Well, let's go before the food gets cold."
They Apparated together and then just sat down in the soft grass and began to eat. Harry, who'd never been a fan of chopsticks, had to concentrate on not letting half of his portion fall to the ground while Ron managed, as usual, to eat and talk at the same time. "We're working through the list Ollivander whipped up for me yesterday," he said, chewing. "There are 37 wands from him that fit the description, and it's of course entirely possible that the murderer got it from somewhere else."
"So, no lead yet?"
"No. But the whole department is buzzing right now. Everyone wants to see the case solved and I guess we won't get much sleep before we don't have something."
"Then what are you doing here with me?"
Ron gave him a deliberately casual look. "You seemed quite out of it yesterday."
Harry shrugged. "I hadn't expected to see so much blood ever again. And Tonks… But you don't need to worry. I'm better now."
"Have you slept at all?"
Shaking his head lightly, Harry looked away. "I've set the house-elves on watch for anything suspicious this morning," he said in an attempt to change the subject. "If something comes up, I'll owl you immediately."
"Okay, then. I really need to get back to work now but I'll come by as soon as I've got time."
"How about you get some rest as soon as you've got time? I'm not about to crack, Ron. And I really don’t need you to fuss over me."
"Fine!" Ron said in a somewhat hurt tone. And before Harry could say anything else, he'd Disapparated.
Sighing, Harry got up from the ground and vanished their now empty food boxes. He wasn't really keen on going back home, but he had still a stack of paperwork waiting for him.
… to be continued…
Author: ninnive
Fandom: 'Harry Potter' by J. K. Rowling
Pairing: H/D (not yet), mentions of others
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mentions of violence and character deaths
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and this work of fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only.
A/N: This fic was begun before book 7 was out, so it is not DH-compliant
chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3
*
Tonks is dead. Tonks is dead. Tonks is dead… The sentence seemed to dance around in Harry's head, becoming quieter and quieter with every iteration until it settled as a faint buzzing that blocked his throat and pressed against the insides of his eyes, urging him to cry. And now it was he who got gripped around his arms and shaken softly until he could remember that this was not the time to fall apart.
"Hey, Harry," Ron said with tears in his voice. "Are you…" A sigh. "Will you be alright?"
Harry closed his eyes and gave a single, sharp nod. "Yeah," he croaked. "How… how did it happen?"
"In an ugly way - she's been ripped apart by some curse I didn't recognize. Maybe… maybe it was something else gone wrong; I've never seen something like that."
"Any idea who it was?"
A shrug, and then Ron said: "Right now they're trying to trace their wands."
Harry snorted. "Good luck with that - it's almost never successful!"
"I know. We have to try though. And I wondered - if maybe you could come help us."
"Help you? In trying to trace wand signatures?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"Not exactly, no," Ron said, gazing intently at Harry. "They left some kind of smoky snake-thing at the scene, and I thought you could try to talk to it…"
Harry felt an uncomfortable feeling build in his stomach, nesting beside the grief about Tonks; he'd never gotten comfortable with being a Parselmouth, no matter how often the rare ability had proved itself useful. But he nodded anyway. "Yes, of course I'll try it. It's the least I owe to Tonks."
*
Two hours later, Harry and Ron were finished at the crime scene, both of them pale like ghosts. The mangled body of Tonks had been taken away over an hour ago, but the heavy smell of blood still lingered in the air, reminding them of the awful sight. When they'd arrived, the curling and hissing smoke serpent had already begun to disintegrate, and Harry'd had a lot of trouble to get some understandable sentences out of it before it had vanished entirely. Most of them still didn't make any sense, but the repeated referring to the murdered woman as 'an unworthy half-blood' gave at least a clue to the political corner the attackers came out of. Surprisingly, the tracing of the wand signatures had shown some results, too. They still couldn't identify the curse that had been utilized, but they now knew that Tonks' murderer had used an ebony wand, not longer than nine and a half inches, with a core of dragon heartstring.
Ron was about to leave for Ollivander's to see if the old wandmaker could help them narrow down the possibilities, while Harry just wanted to go home, curl up in his bed and not think about what had happened. And after saying his good-byes to the team of Aurors and arranging a time to meet Ron tomorrow, he Apparated directly into his bedroom and tried to do exactly that.
With limited success. Every time he managed to chase this afternoon's gory images far enough away to be able to fall asleep, he fell right into his nightmares of the end of the war. And after he had woken from his own screams for the third time, Harry finally gave up. He dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen where Cally was already busy brewing a cup of chamomille tea, her panacea for her master's occasional bouts of nightmare-induced sleeplessness. Wordlessly, she handed him the cup when it was ready and then vanished into her room. Harry curled up on a kitchen chair, sipped his tea and tried to let the warmth of it get rid of the tension in his body.
*
Monday went by in irregular hops. While the early hours of the morning had gone by in no time, the meeting with the house-elves seemed to go on and on while Harry struggled to find the right words that would convince them to make reports about anything that might be connected to Ron's cases. Technically, Harry was the elves' employer, but in reality it was nearly impossible to get them to betray the families they worked for. When he was finally halfway sure that he'd get news of any suspicious on-goings, Harry sent the elves back and tried to get some of his paperwork done. But all he managed to do was staring blankly at the first sheet of paper, reading through it again and again without actually understanding a word.
The soft chime of the alarm charm he'd set yesterday finally pulled Harry out of his brooding. He had to meet Ron in 15 minutes and until then he really should have gotten his act together. The last thing his best friend needed now was having to worry about him on top of everything else. So, summoning some of the mental techniques that Remus had taught him during the war, Harry breathed in deeply, pushed the leaden feeling of lethargy out of his belly and forced himself to focus. He felt better almost instantly; not any less sad or angry, but no longer as if he was helplessly drowning inside of his own memories. He stood up, got his coat and Apparated to Diagon Alley.
Ron was already waiting for him, two boxes with spicy smelling food in hands. "I got us some Chinese take away. I don't really want to be in a crowd right now."
Harry nodded and took the box that Ron handed him. "Where to?"
"That clearing near the Lovegoods' house? It's quiet there."
"Eager to see some Crumple-Horned Snorkacks? Or is Luna back in the country?" Harry asked, genuinely curious but also a little worried. He'd never understood Ron's on-and-off relationship with Luna and found it very strange that Gabrielle obviously didn't mind. But then, most women seemed rather strange to him.
"No idea, mate," Ron answered carefully. He knew that Harry wasn't comfortable with the situation and usually avoided the topic if at all possible. "The last I heard from her was nearly two months ago. She was in Amsterdam then, doing research for a new book."
"Well, let's go before the food gets cold."
They Apparated together and then just sat down in the soft grass and began to eat. Harry, who'd never been a fan of chopsticks, had to concentrate on not letting half of his portion fall to the ground while Ron managed, as usual, to eat and talk at the same time. "We're working through the list Ollivander whipped up for me yesterday," he said, chewing. "There are 37 wands from him that fit the description, and it's of course entirely possible that the murderer got it from somewhere else."
"So, no lead yet?"
"No. But the whole department is buzzing right now. Everyone wants to see the case solved and I guess we won't get much sleep before we don't have something."
"Then what are you doing here with me?"
Ron gave him a deliberately casual look. "You seemed quite out of it yesterday."
Harry shrugged. "I hadn't expected to see so much blood ever again. And Tonks… But you don't need to worry. I'm better now."
"Have you slept at all?"
Shaking his head lightly, Harry looked away. "I've set the house-elves on watch for anything suspicious this morning," he said in an attempt to change the subject. "If something comes up, I'll owl you immediately."
"Okay, then. I really need to get back to work now but I'll come by as soon as I've got time."
"How about you get some rest as soon as you've got time? I'm not about to crack, Ron. And I really don’t need you to fuss over me."
"Fine!" Ron said in a somewhat hurt tone. And before Harry could say anything else, he'd Disapparated.
Sighing, Harry got up from the ground and vanished their now empty food boxes. He wasn't really keen on going back home, but he had still a stack of paperwork waiting for him.
… to be continued…