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So, Daphne Greengrass is a fully trained and registered Mediwitch. Who the fuck would have suspected that? Surely not I. But yet, here I am, with her sitting in front of my laying doctor on my hand.

The view down the front of her shirt as she leans down to observe my hand draws this deep desire in me to play doctor with her, but that’s neither here nor there. That desire is quickly both lessened and intensified, as she finds the need to rub the tip of her wand along my burned left palm with no warning whatsoever. Her disapproving “tsk tsk”ing of me as I wince and she pokes and prods at me makes me seriously consider throwing her ass back into the vault, but I’ve realized that Daphne is a lot like the contents of Pandora’s box. Once you let it out, you want nothing more than to put it back in. But you’re stuck with it, for better or for worse.

The worse, put simply, is her renewed fascination with me.

Even while she messes around with my hand, she’s watching me. I can feel her cold eyes running down my face like dry eyes, a burn and a chill at once. I can also feel her touch on my…

“Whoa! Watch the hands, Greengrass!”

“Oh shut up, Potter. I am looking at your hip, since you’ve found the apparent need to go ahead and injure yourself in your idiotic attempts at heroism or something. You should have taken me, or Tonks, with you. But no, Harry Bloody Potter always has to gallivant around as if he was Goddess’ gift to the planet Earth, and save anyone and everyone who…”

“Could you can it, Greengrass? Seriously. You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about, and I sure in the hell didn’t go off playing the hero to anyone at all.” Her unbelieving eyes stare up at me patronizingly, almost mockingly, from her place…on her knees…in front of me…with her hands on my thigh.

Not a look any man wants to receive while a girl kneels in front of him like that.

“I didn’t go play hero. I fucking kidnapped someone from St. Mungo’s. Then, I proceeded to quite possibly kill her brother when he came to her rescue. A brother, I might add, who is a fucking Defender, Greengrass. Do you know what a Defender is?” She swallows audibly, and goes to nod, but I don’t care, she needs to hear this and get it out of her head that I’m what she believes I am, once and for all. “Defenders are fucking tasked to protect the people, Daphne. They are our Militant Government. Killing a Defender is like killing a member of Parliament, only, The Defenders are Judge, Jury, and Executioner. The only thing that can stay the hand of a Defender in the pursuit of bringing forth what they believe is Justice, are the Aurors.

“Here’s the kicker, Greengrass. The Auror Sergeant, is the older brother of who I fought today. Do you understand that? That I have now just committed a capital crime, and burned almost any bridge I might possibly have to prevent a kill-on-sight order being placed on my head.” I stop to breathe, to try and calm myself from yelling at this girl again. The breathing is two-fold, however, as Daphne has apparently begun to understand some of what I had done today, and was now moving her hands in a soothing motion. Likely, for her own benefit, but the fact that her hands were still on my upper thigh was making it very distracting for me. But the mood for reveling in that, or taking advantage of it, was gone. Talking about it was probably just making it clear to me what I had done in pursuit of revenge.

“Right now, the only people standing between me and a full-on manhunt are The Auror Captain, and the Head Defender. Realistically, the one I need to get to first is the Auror Captain. That’s my best chance for the time being.”

“Who is he?”

“She.” Daphne’s look of shock confuses me. But I keep having to remind myself that her family fled early, and quickly. “The Magical society left in the UK is a matriarchal one, Daphne. As far as I’m aware, every major office of power left here is run by a woman.

“Voldemort, Dumbledore and I are responsible for the, supposed, complete fall of magical life in Great Britain. All men. It was a rallying cry once the Ministry itself fell, that the men had had their chance. The men had had their time. And the men had fucked it all up, basically. And I can see it, in some way. It’s an instinct, much more harshly ingrained into males than females, to fight for alpha status. To always want more. To want to be in control, in charge, and to rule over everyone.

“Supposedly, women don’t have that as badly as we do. I think that’s bullshit, but that’s just me. Apparently it appealed to enough people that women run everything now. And the Auror Captaincy is no different. At least gender-wise. If there’s one person who shows the level of ruthless ambition that the men were cast out for, while still maintaining the pleasing lady bits, it’s her.”

“Well, who is she, then?”

“Susan Bones. Not quite a shock, I must say, it does run in her family. But fuck is she ruthless. Ever since Hannah got drained in the middle of Diagon Alley, Susan has been the most vocal proponent for extremely harsh penalties against blood offenders in the UK. It’s why I think I may be able to appeal to her, because when it comes down to it, I was avenging a blood crime. And if I am allowed to be held by the Defenders and punished according to them, I will be the victim of one myself.

“And that can’t happen. Under any circumstances.”

“…Why not? The way you’re saying it, it’s like…What will happen, Harry? Please? It sounds urgent, what will happen?” She’s now rubbing up my leg as if to coerce me to tell her. And I have to say, if she keeps that up, there would be very little I wouldn’t tell her. Which means I need to say this and then remove myself from the temptation. I have a lot of work to do, and I need to get to Susan as soon as I can. Before any other reports come in to her, and before she’s so far gone that I can’t show her my side, beyond the written reports that will likely be piled atop her desk should I wait any longer.

“If they get ahold of my blood, they will use it to ward. They will use it to ward the Auror Headquarters. They will use it to ward the Defenders’ Base of Operations. They will use it to ward St. Mungo’s. They will use it to ward important peoples’ homes and even to reestablish some of the repelling wards.

“And as soon as they do, people will die. Everyone in those buildings. Anyone within the ward schema. Anyone standing near the ward lines. People walking by on the streets near the new repelling wards. Anyone the wards are tied to. Anyone close to the ward anchors. They will die.

“Which means, most of what is left of Magical England will be hit with a magical backlash so intense it will not only kill them, but it will salt the earth of magic for all of Britain.

“Urgent enough for you?”

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Susan Bones and Neville Longbottom dated for several years, starting at Hogwarts.  He saved her life on the train, and she saved his during the subsequent escape from King’s Cross before the station proceeded to explode from unstable magic interacting badly with the rail system. Six trains derailed before the explosion, not counting the Hogwarts Express, and it was a miracle that it wasn’t all over the national news.

For some, it was too good to be true. Almost…Magical.

And that’s exactly what it was. A lot of masking charms and a whole lot of obliviating to be done, but it was covered up. For a while. And then one day, the illusion charms fell from around the train station which had, until that day, been believed to be closed down due to a massive expansion project on its part.

So for the charms to suddenly fall and a large group of tourists who had been snapping pictures of what appeared to be a state-of-the-art transit facility, to suddenly bear witness to a decimated platform with remains of trains and rotted and decomposed bodies scattered like morbid confetti…it was too much.

King’s Cross made the news. Eventually.

Around the time that it did, the relationship that Susan and Neville had cultivated like a precious flower, was beginning to wilt.

Susan and Hannah were close…closer than they ever had been, to the point that Hannah had been moved into the two bedroom flat the Neville and Susan had been sharing as a practice of cohabitation before they entered into an engagement. Neville believed that, albeit an inconvenience, this could be to his favor. He believed that right on up until he realized that it was Hannah, and not he, who was moving into Susan’s room with her.

It was the beginning of the end.

An end that came when Hannah Abbott was bled dry in Diagon Alley. A Defender by the name of Terry Boot had charged her with some negligible crime, and had sentenced her to two cups of blood forfeiture. The real crime had been her rejecting his advances, and those two cups had quickly turned into all she had as she fought against him holding her down with his hands on her breasts as an associate was draining her from her inner thigh.

Terry Boot and Justin Finch-Fletchley’s bodies were found utterly destroyed some hours later at the entrance to the Defenders’ Base of Operations, mutilated nearly beyond recognition.

Susan and Neville had a fall out over the responsibilities they held. Neville had wanted to become a Defender. Susan was quickly ascending the Auror ranks. Since Hannah, Susan hated any use of blood. At all. Neville had a more shifting morality, in believing that it would be hard to catch people using those enhancements, without making use of them themselves.

They agreed to disagree and their relationship fell into shambles with time. They stayed roommates in their flat, mainly because they rarely saw each other due to Neville being in Defender Training and Susan’s status as Auror Sergeant. Things were peaceful until Susan caught him with several Blood Charges in his room.

Neville Longbottom never made it through Defender training.

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Susan Bones is a beautiful woman, I really do have to admit. Even the eyepatch she wears does nothing to detract from that, as it just makes the icy blue eye that is visible stand out even more. Her hair hangs in deep red spirals over her shoulders, the pigtails a reminder of her friend no doubt. But the way she wears them makes them not look quite so…childish. Actually she looks quite fierce.

Or maybe that’s because she’s currently pointing her wand directly at me with her eye narrowed and her jaw clenched.

Yeah…might be that.

“God damn, Susie, looking fucking good!” She rolls her eye at me as she lowers her wand and I take a seat in front of her, propping my feet up on the corner of her desk as I recline and look at her.

“I see you’ve adopted her love for that damned word on top of having adopted her.”

“Adopted might be the wrong word…”

“Probably, considering that would make the feelings you two have for each other decidedly incestuous, wouldn’t it?”

“Fuck off, Cyclops.” I recline a bit more, making a big show of getting comfortable. But really I’m watching how comfortable she lets me become, and the motions she makes. She hasn’t made a move to go for her wand again, and I can see that she has removed any reports from her desk, instead having them placed to a side table. It would be possible that she hasn’t seen them yet, but highly unlikely. “Pansy says hi. And so does Daphne, for that matter.”

Her eyebrows raise, both of them, and then a grin creeps along her face slowly. “Collecting Slytherin girls now, Harry? I guess everyone has to have their fetishes.”

“Yeah, and unfortunately for them, mine happens to be one-eyed sex kittens in business suits with a domineering streak.”

“I’m sure if you ask nicely enough, Pansy will dominate you, Harry. But if you’re that hard up for some of the Bones lovin’, then we can retire to the sleeping chambers I keep behind this office.”

“Oh my desire for you is tangible, Susie. Can’t you just feel it?”

She stifles a laugh, and I’m glad I’ve finally won a round with her after all this time. “If you said that in anything other than a monotone, and actually looked at me like you meant it, I might have actually been tempted to do just that. But damn, Harry, you sure know how to make anything sound like you’re bored saying it.”

“One of my many talents, beautiful, one of my many talents. Maybe after we’re done with business here, should I not be located under the jail, I can show you some other ones I have.” I wink at her, and she smiles, and either winks back, or just blinks normally, as it’s impossible for me to know otherwise, with her patch and all. I tell her as much, and she makes a swatting motion at me from the other side of the desk.

“So, tell me what you mean about you being put, how did you say it? ‘Under the jail’ or some such?” Now that the pleasantries are removed, I know it’s time for what I came here for.

“I had a run in with a Defender, Susie.” Her eye flashes quickly, but she says nothing. “It…wasn’t good.”

“Well, you’re still standing here, so obviously you did better than they did.”

“Quite…”Breathing deeply, I prepare to say what will inevitably be one of the dumbest things I have ever said. “I fought Fred, Susie, and I don’t know if he’s alive or not.”

“Harry! No!”

“Yeah, Susie. Fred. And I have no idea if I killed him.”

“Why don’t you know?” Her words have an edge to them.

“I wasn’t exactly in a position to check.”

“Where is he, Harry. You…no, we, need to go find out.”

“I left him where we fought.” Here it goes. “He’s outside Bill’s house. On Wisteria Walk.”

“Fuck you, Potter.” Well, it was less than I expected, but the venom is there, enough to make me actually recoil as she says it. “Fucking hell, Harry, what did I tell you!”

“I know Susie…”

“You fucking make sure, Harry. You fucking put them down, and you make sure that they don’t get back up.” She stands up and begins to pace, slapping my feet from her desk as she goes by at one point. “If they go down and stay down, nothing makes it to my office. You stay a ghost. A wraith. Out of my fucking hair.”

“I know, Susie, fuck, I know. But…I don’t know. I promised Bill I would bring Ginny to him. Fred showed up as I expected he would, and I couldn’t fucking resist hurting him. But he was good, dammit. He got me, worse than he should have. But I couldn’t fucking end him like that until I got answers. Bill will be holding him.” I proceeded to detail the fight as best I could for her. It helped a lot that I hadn’t changed clothes before coming to see her after Daphne patched me up, so she could see for herself evidence of what I said happened.

“So you kidnapped Ginny Weasley out of a long-term ward in St. Mungo’s. Then you took her to somewhere you know you are to be staying clear of, and then, you beat the shit out of her brother – a Defender – and leave him somewhere between alive and dead. Not to mention property damage and whatever other laws you’ve violated. And here you sit, in my office, regaling it all to the head of Magical Law Enforcement, in what could basically be called a confession. Am I right up until this point?”

“Yep!”

“Harry…you’re nothing if not ballsy.” She’s behind me now, and I’m tensed up for the possibility of her slapping me upside my head. But it doesn’t come. Instead, her fingertips drag along the back of my ear, down my jaw line and her hand cups my chin and pulls my head back so I can see her over me. Or, slightly see her, around the fullness of her chest…bad Harry! “I’m glad you came to me when you did. I can help you, and I will, regardless of the reasoning you did this. But why did you do this?” If anyone would understand why I had to do this, Susan would.

“Luna. Fred bled Luna out trying to revive George.” Susan’s mouth forms an “o” as if she is finally seeing. Which she likely is.

“Fuck him then. If this becomes an issue, then you’ll be the first subject of my new policy of harsh punishment for all blood terrorists.”

“Blood…Terrorists? Really, Susie? I mean, couldn’t you have come up with something different? Maybe, I dunno…Why not blood thieves? Terrorist sounds…I don’t like it.”

“Fine, blood theft. If anyone from the damned Defenders’ office comes in her raising hell demanding prosecution from their department against you, they can expect a fight. Because as far as I’m concerned right now, you’re my one-man anti-blood-theft task force.”

“Too many hyphens, Sue.”

“Shut up, Potter, I’m on a roll.”

“Yes’m.”

“If anyone says anything, then that will be your designation, and it will give you some form of immunity from the idiots who call themselves Defenders.” Susan doesn’t care much for the Defenders, not since their policy on blood usage began to more publicly mimic the beliefs that Neville had begun to show. She likely blames them for a lot of the tragedies she has experienced. And rightfully so. “Other than the times you get in trouble, though, I don’t want to hear about anything you do. Plausible deniability, and so on.”

“Thank you, Susie. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Yeah…but don’t remind me that I’m saving the lives of those bastards by keeping them from hunting you and throwing their lives away. I prefer to think that I’m a time-saver. You know, saving you the time of destroying their whole organization at once.” She smiles gently down at me, before leaning down and pecking me on the nose and then walking back over and sitting on her desk. “Time that I do so hope you spend wisely.”

“Yes’m.”

“You will spend that time wisely, correct?”

“Yes’m.”

“I expect little baby Potters with your eyes and Pansy’s hair. And preferably not her demeanor. Hell…hopefully neither parents’.”

“Yes’m…wait, what?” She has a hearty laugh at this, and I smile at her, which she returns.

“But really, Harry. Don’t forget to live. Find happiness in this all. I know you find some happiness in Pansy, but if you can find more than that in her, then do so. If it’s whatever is going on with Greengrass, then so be it. Just be wary of her tendency to want to want to control everything.”

“A girl after your own heart, eh Susie?”

“Indeed she is, Harry. Indeed she is. And if I thought that you would be able to deal with it in the least, I might throw my hat in the ring too, as it were.” She grins slyly at me, and I’m mesmerized by how well this woman has kept her sense of humor, and moreover, her humanity, in spite of everything that has gone on around her. They took Luna, and I fucking made stupid mistakes that I never would have made, and allowed my vengeance to consume me, even for a bit. They took Hannah from Susan. She lost a man she loved, a good deal of the vision in one of her eyes, and a lot of time, hope, and joy. And here she sits, on the other side of this desk, reminding me to live.

All things considered, few have lost more than me. But the fact that she continues to smile and show life, even if it is mostly just with me, is…inspiring.

“Harry…tell me one thing.”

“Susie?”

“Why did you let him live? Honestly.”

“On the one hand, I need answers from him. I need information. Don’t ask me on what, its better if you don’t know. But…on the other hand, I should have killed him. Not just because of your instructions, but for Luna. It doesn’t feel like vengeance…like justice, if the bastard lives after what he did.

“Like, I’m fucked no matter what I do. If I killed him then and there, I get no answers. But I didn’t, and I can’t help feeling like I’ve failed to get justice, no, peace, for Luna.

“Does this feeling of failure ever go away?” She shakes her head sadly at me. She steps toward me, and runs the back of her knuckles down my cheek. It’s affectionate, but still gives off a vibe that she’s protecting herself from me at the same time. It’s Susan to the core. Even at her most delicate, she has an edge to her, and miles and miles of brick wall between the girl she was, the woman she would have become, and the woman this world made her. And another few miles of wall between all of that, and the rest of the world around her. And it speaks to something in me to be let at least near enough to those walls to know they are there, something most others likely don’t realize.

We connect on a lot of levels. Neither of us have ever quite recovered from the losses that have been forced on us, and I have to assume we never will. When I first came to Susan, we would spend long amounts of time sitting and talking. Then one day, she asked me if I had a purpose beyond simply waking up every day and existing. She explained that, from her own experience, it was the only real way to heal. She taught me to start small, to start slow. Sometimes having your purpose be just getting out of bed can be something to work toward. An achievement in its own right. And from there, they expand, until soon, you’re Auror Captain, with an unnecessarily large desk and a string of subordinates many years younger than yourself, forced to listen to you. That is what Susan has shown me, and I thank her for it.

Some days we compare scars if we find ourselves with new ones with a nice story behind them. I am pleased to note that I have her easily beat in that regard, at least, though she’s not quite as happy about that, for my own sake. I find my scars hideous…painful…ugly…terrible…but hers are elegant. Slight. They give her a touch of…realism. An air of having lived. Of having truly existed.

Innocence isn’t attractive to me.

Purity is abhorrent.

And sometimes, as she sits across from me, trying to help guide me toward a path less likely to end up with me dead, I can’t help but find the beauty in the woman that innocent little Susan Bones has grown to become.

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