Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Death Note. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and both Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata respectively. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. So in short, don't sue me. It'd cost more in legal fees than you'd actually get, considering I own nothing besides my own plot.
Authors Note: Hello readers look I've updated! This took longer than I'd thought it would. I started half the chapter and was doing great but then I was attacked by writers block (and a vicious cold) so I ended up taking longer. But here it is and it's my longest chapter ever. I'm so exhausted, writing really stresses me out! Still I love the rewarding feeling one gets when they finish a chapter. Well anyways enough of my pointless babble and on with the story!
"Deathly Hallows, Death Notes, Saviors, and Sleuths"
By Pink Bismuth
Chapter Six: Unspeakable, Undone, Unknown
The next day found Harry in front of the muggle entrance to the Japanese Ministry of Magic. He was quite nervous, as he was unable to wear a glamour while inside the building. This was due to the ministry wards, which would have disabled any such methods of concealment.
He tugged on his bangs some more even though he knew his scar was covered before determinedly stopping himself. After taking a deep breath to calm himself as he entered the seemingly broken down phone booth. Rolling his eyes, he dialed 6-2-4-6-8, which thanks to the translation charm Harry knew spelled out Mahou, which was 'Magic' in Japanese.
'Wizards think they're so clever,' he thought as cool female voice asked for identification.
Owing to the fact that they really didn't pay attention to what you told them he gave his alias and said he was visiting a friend. He collected the badge provided as darkness filled the booth while it made its grinding descent into the ground. Left with nothing to distract him, Harry could do nothing but let the feelings he had been attempting to avoid take hold of him as he stood in the cramped enclosure.
Guilt coiled like a snake in his intestines, wriggling around until it reached his chest wrapping around his heart as it constricted with sorrow. If only he had stayed here in Japan, if only he had taken a more active approach to the Kira case. If only he had been less concerned with his own, problems and more concerned with the safety of others. Perhaps Ray would still be alive now. As an Auror he should have done something about this case a long time ago. He suspected magic was involved. Why had he not interfered before now?
He was furious, filled with rage at the unknown vigilante and at the unfairness of it all. Ray had been a good man, and he and Naomi had been so happy with a bright future ahead of them. He hadn't done anything wrong, he had not deserved to die, and Naomi certainly hadn't done anything to deserve having her fiancé ripped away from her so abruptly. It was one of those instances in life, an unfair moment that was so very unfair that it shouldn't have been allowed to happen. Harry was filled with fury at Kira and his so-called justice.
At the moment though a majority of his fury was also aimed solely at himself. Why hadn't he done anything before it was too late? He knew Ray was involved with the Kira case, he had felt like something bad was going to happen, why had he just kept brushing it off? He banged his arm on the side of the dark booth in frustration; the echoing noise rang out eerily through the small space.
'Why didn't I do anything?' he questioned himself as the booth started to light up. He sighed heavily before straightened himself out and pushing his regrets to the back of his mind, determination taking its place. When the door opened, he briskly exited into the bustling ministry lobby and made his way over to the security desk. A board looking wizard in peacock blue robes then ushered him over to the left of his desk. He checked Harry with a probity probe (Harry still scoffed at the name) before asking for his wand.
Harry handed his phoenix feather wand to him, well aware that it was in fact a minor felony to withhold his second one. The elder wand would have just broken the machinery anyways; he'd secretly tested it on the one back home. It had taken the maintenance crew four days to fix it. Cattermole, the wizard Ron had once impersonated during their ministry break in, had sent he and Ron suspicious looks the whole time they were trying to fix it.
The wizard dropped it into the brass scale of the wand-checking machine the name of which eluded Harry, watching it operate as a strip of parchment came speeding out. Tearing it off, the security wizard monotonously said, "Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, in use 12 years?"
Harry nodded as the wizard then slipped the parchment on the small brass spike on his desk before handing Harry back his wand. Harry nodded to the man once more before going further into the ministry entering the lift, which was happily empty. Looking at the various labels beneath the buttons, he pressed the ninth floor button. A cool female voice called "Floor Nine: Department of Mysteries".
Harry involuntarily shivered; he did not want to be here. In fact, Harry had never wanted to go anywhere near any Department of Mysteries even if it wasn't the same one.
As he exited the lift and made his way through a plain looking corridor, its uncanny likeness to the one in England set Harry on edge. He walked toward a wizard he recognized from description as the Unspeakable he was supposed to meet.
He was 5' 9", dressed casually as were all Unspeakables, probably within his 50s with dark brown hair, brown eyes and plain features. Nothing that would register in others minds as particularly special. The only thing different about him was his Caucasian features which illustrated his status as a foreigner here in Japan. He was leaning against a black door that lead to the Entrance Chamber assuming that Japan's DOM conformed to the same layout as the British one. The man straightened himself from his leaning position as Harry drew near sending him a congenial smile.
"Mr. Evans I assume?" he asked in British accented English.
Harry again felt the unpleasant choking feeling of his translating charm switching languages. The man seemed to realize he wasn't doing Harry any favors by switching languages and sent him an apologetic look.
"Sorry, it's been months since I've transferred here from England, I miss speaking English."
"Ah no worries," answered Harry, "considering this could risk your job I rather think it's a small price to pay."
The man just smiled and waved off Harry's concerns, "They wouldn't fire me just for this, shelved cases are hardly Unspeakable matters, they just needed the office space upstairs and shoved the work on us." He sounded part amused and part annoyed by this as he turned around and opened the black door, ushering Harry through. "Honestly, you'd think I was secretary for all the clerical work I seem to do," he muttered sounding slightly disgruntled.
Harry couldn't help but quirk a small smile at that. How many times had he thought the same thing about his old job?
They both stood waiting as the doors spun around the circular entrance room before the man led him through a door on the left. As they made their way through another corridor, the Unspeakable turned to Harry and asked, "So how is our mutual friend in England doing?" Harry looked away from the door at the end of the corridor they were heading toward to respond.
"Ah he's... doing well. Got a new promotion but being an Unspeakable he couldn't actually tell me what it was."
"That's good, always thought he'd go places, course being a friend of yours couldn't have hurt," he finished sending Harry a coy look.
Harry did his best to ignore the look, he almost responded with a curt "It certainly didn't help either," but he thought better of it said, "He's a good friend, I take care of my friends".
Denis Creevy had gotten that promotion on his own, but if playing along would make getting the information he needed easier he would be willing to make a few calls. Harry had never liked using his position and fame to get favors but in this instance, he was willing to push his dislike aside.
"Good to know," said the man as they stopped in front of a door that he then unlocked and lead Harry through.
The room was huge; the walls were lined with shelves housing shimmering glass orbs that reflected silvery blue lights on the dark walls. Harry couldn't stop the tremor that tore through him at the site of them. The glimmering orbs were filled with silvery-white wisps of smokey yet liquid substance that Harry suspected were memories, all he could do was stare at them with wide, panicked eyes.
The Unspeakable cleared his throat and Harry was able to tear his eyes away from the horrible glass works. The man was looking at him understandingly; apparently, he was one of many that had read about Harry's old prophecy. Unlike most, being an Unspeakable he would actually know something about what a curse prophecies could be. Harry averted his eyes from the man's sympathetic stare but returned his gaze as the man started speaking.
"And here is the Chamber of Cases, each glass orb contains a myriad of case files," he said gesturing to the shelves with a flourish as though he were a tour guide.
"Manila file folders would've been easier," muttered Harry shakily.
His companion smiled, "But then we wouldn't be Wizards, besides this is much more impressive."
"Who's it meant to impress, the cleaning staff?" Harry asked still rather disgruntled.
The man just smirked as he continued explaining, "We'll pick up the one containing discontinued cases that start with K."
He paused there as he reached for a glass orb with the letter K written on the label. He then moved over to a podium type stand in the middle of the room.
"This here is where we retrieve the information, we put the orb in here," he said putting the glass ball into a shallow stone basin. It had carved runes and strange symbols, and looked to Harry like a Pensieve. The orb then seemed to melt into the same silvery substance memories were made of. The Unspeakable pointed to a flat surface on the podium stand that held a piece of parchment and a quill.
"It's a self-inking quill, all we need to do is write the key words involved in the case or the case file's ID, since I have the ID I'll just write that." He then scribbled a combination of letters and numbers onto the parchment, which then sunk into the paper.
The basin's liquid flashed red before turning sliver again, some of the liquid seemed to leak out of the bottom of the bowl into the podium leaving only a cupful of liquid in the bottom. The basin then somehow refilled with a light blue fluid, the cupful of left over silver liquid forming swirling strands that floating about the blue depths.
The Unspeakable than bent over and opened a compartment on the side of the podium. It revealed a tube that connected to the bottom of the basin and a new glass orb, which looked mostly full. He pointed to it, "This is all the other case files starting with K. Inside the basin now is the information on the Kira case, to access it you need only enter the pensieve. In it will be a memory made by the Auror who was on the case recording his or her findings."
Harry looked at the whole thing partly incredulous and partly impressed they didn't have anything like this at the British Ministry. "I still say file folders would be easier."
"Yes well, that would require common sense," the man responded still smiling.
Harry sighed as he bent over the podium, he paused however to look at the Unspeakable.
"You coming in with me?" he questioned knowing he'd feel more comfortable if the man joined him. It wasn't that he didn't trust him but he didn't like the idea of anyone being around him when his mind wasn't firmly in his body.
"Hmmm... Oh sure, why not." he said and with that they both entered the pensieve.
Harry fell into the memory and then fell onto his backside. "Argh, I'll never get used to that," he muttered annoyed.
The Unspeakable tried to repress his laughter as he helped Harry up. The memory was inside what Harry recognized as a Ministry office, an Asian woman in Scarlet Auror attire was standing alone in the office staring at a file folder in her hands. She stood there for several seconds before starting to read from the file in a crisp business like voice.
"Case File K1128M, code named Kira Case, Auror Yumi Fujimoto reporting as the only Auror on the case. After an investigation that ran for several weeks I am labeling this case as MM and having it shelved until further notice."
Harry couldn't help but send her a disbelieving look for considering the Kira case to be Mostly Muggle but of course this look was wasted as she couldn't' see it.
"My reasons for this ruling are thus: There is no magical residue on the bodies of the victims. There have been no suspicious magical signals on any of the ministry's radars. The victims in question have no apparent links to the magical community. And the Unspeakables have found themselves unable to replicate the method of murder or even theorize on what it could be."
At the last one Harry spared a glance at the Unspeakable to his right, he only shrugged, "I wasn't on the case."
Harry nodded looking back at the memory Auror as she started to speak again.
"There is a muggle investigation being run by a muggle organization named the ICPO or International Criminal Police Organization most specifically the NPA or The National Police Agency as well as a private muggle detective by the name of L. For now I've deemed it MM with plans to briefly review the case in the future should any new evidence be found by the muggles in question until such time the case will be shelved."
With that, the memory went blank as Harry and the Unspeakable were expelled from the pensieve. Harry stood there still rather disoriented staring at the pensieve in disbelief.
"That's all? Really that's all they found out before shelving it!" he shouted irritated. Were all ministries this incompetent?
"Er- well there wasn't anything saying it was magic, I, um couldn't see a connection," defended the Unspeakable weakly, he too seemed surprised by the lack of information in the file.
"Oh so because we don't see something it must not exist! I suppose air doesn't exist either, you know since we can't see it and all," Harry continued feeling irate. "I didn't see anything that said it wasn't magic either!"
"Well now that's just Quibbler talk," said the man sounding slightly offended but mostly amused.
Harry turned to glare at him, the man just smiled at him and eventually Harry sighed and dropped his glare. "Sorry, it's not your fault that there isn't more to the file. I suppose I'll just be going now," he said turning to exit the room.
"Ah wait, Mr. P- Er Evens let me put this away and I'll walk you out, might get lost in the Entrance Chamber otherwise."
Harry silently nodded, watching as the man pushed a button causing the blue liquid to evaporate into a blue gas, which quickly dispelled. He then pushed another button and the remaining silver liquid drained into the glass orb, which he then placed onto the shelf.
As they walked back down the corridor Harry attempted to rein in his temper and disappointment, he had been really hoping to find more than that. His mind raced as he tried to find other ways to obtain information he could give Naomi but he was drawing a blank. When they finally reached the exit, walking through the black door Harry turned to the Unspeakable that had helped him.
"Er, Thanks, Mr...?" it was then that Harry realized he'd never caught the man's name.
"Thompson, Philip Thompson, and it's alright Mr. Evans considering what you did for Britain I'm happy to help, not that it was much help, sorry for that."
"Oh, no don't worry about that, I'm sure I'll find what I'm looking for. This has been helpful, narrows things down," reassured Harry, it actually wasn't much help at all but he didn't want to be rude.
"Nice of you to lie, but I've been an Unspeakable for 17 years now and an Obliviator for 9 years before that. I can admit that of the two Ministries I've worked for neither has been very competent," he responded jovially.
"You used to be an Obliviator?" Harry asked surprised, he'd never heard of an Obliviator switching jobs like that. Most considered Obliviators lower ranking ministry officials due to all the fieldwork they did involving muggles and such. It was not a very glamorous job overall and often considered only a notch above magical maintenance. Harry didn't even know you could transfer into the Unspeakables from another Department.
"Yep, I was an Obliviator for the English Ministry, during the war no less! Can't tell you how many muggles I had to Obliviate. I remember nearly losing my job because I forgot where I put my rememberall! Useless little trinkets they are. My Department Head nearly bit my head off for losing it. Each Obliviator gets a custom made one you know. They're like an ID so people know you're actually a licensed Obliviator and not some loon out messing about with people's minds..." Mr. Thompson seemed to get lost in a wave of nostalgia as he recounted this to Harry.
Although Harry was still annoyed at his lack of progress, he couldn't repress his amusement at the man. Harry rather liked him; he could understand why Denis was friends with him despite the fact that he was much older than Denis and Harry himself. He seemed like a fatherly sort of person, he strongly reminded Harry of Arthur Weasley. Harry said good-bye, thanking the man once more before he left.
As he entered the booth of the muggle entrance Harry tried to think of what to do next. He was greatly troubled with what little he had gained from this and didn't know what his next move should be.
'I could always tell Naomi a bit about magic,' he thought before rolling his eyes. 'Yeah that'll work, I'm sure she would believe me,' he thought sarcastically.
He wouldn't be able to prove it without doing magic and doing magic in front of a muggle could bring him a lot of unwanted attention, not to mention it was illegal. 'Could do something low powered, something too weak to show up on their radars,' he argued with himself.
The ministry only knew you did magic around a muggle if the magical frequency was strong enough to show up on their radars. It was a common misconception that muggles had no magic whatsoever. In fact, they had very small amounts of magic that ran on a different frequency than a witch or wizard's magic. Due to its odd frequency, it wasn't easily used and as such, muggles could only tap into their magic during moments of high stress, when their adrenaline was high.
You hear cases of it all the time, one where in an emergency a person taps into some unknown strength, a mother lifting a car off her child. It was this latent magic that tipped off the ministry if a witch or wizard used magic too close to a muggle. A muggle's latent magic reacts to the use of a wizard's magic causing it to flair and show up on one of the ministry's radars.
The Ministry can't tell who did the magic only that it was done in front of a muggle. They send in Obliviators and if they find out who did it they charge them. However if one used a weak enough spell they could avoid the flair up and the ministry would be none the wiser.
There was a chance he could do something really low powered, that would be insignificant enough to be beneath the ministry radar, but showy enough to convince her he was telling the truth. However if anyone found out, he'd be in big trouble. That was unless the Obliviators here in Japan were as easily bribed as the one's back home. Being low-leveled officials, Obliviators weren't paid very well nor treated with much respect. As such, they were usually the easiest ministry officials to bribe.
Harry didn't necessarily approve of bribing people to get what you want but sometimes it had it's merits. More often than not, the ministry sent an Obliviator to the source of the muggle magic flair and they would decide if it was worth bringing in the Aurors or simply obliviating the muggle and reporting back to the Law Department. Quite often instances of breaking the statute of secrecy turned out to be accidental. Therefore, unless it was something like serial muggle baiting they usually just left it to the Obliviators desecration on whether to charge the wizard or witch. That is if they can even find them.
So if he were to be caught he might be able to just pay off the Obliviator to not mind wipe Naomi and let him off with a warning. He considered the possible ramifications of doing this.
Even if he did get caught it would be his first official offense since becoming an adult, his juvenile record had already been expunged so the most he would get is a slap on the wrist, large fine no big deal. However, if he did this he'd either have to legally register as a magical visitor to Japan under his actual name or take Naomi to England to tell her. Otherwise he'd risk getting charged for being falsely registered under an alias in a foreign country.
Of course, if there were any chance he could get Naomi to go to England he could probably get permission from Minister Kingsley to tell her what he needed, thus he wouldn't be breaking any laws. But then how to get Naomi to go to England with him? Harry was stuck, he briefly considered getting permission from Kingsley and then setting off a portkey to England on Naomi; that would get her to England and show her magic.
'Two birds with one stone,' he thought before pushing this idea away. Kidnapping by a nauseating form of magical transportation didn't seem like the best way to introduce her to magic. Really Harry didn't want to explain everything just enough to cover the Kira case. Something that would convince her to trust him when he said he'd dealt with things like this before. He wanted her to know he was not just some random civilian but someone who could actually help her catch Kira.
He was jolted from his thoughts as the booth made its grinding halt back on ground level. When he finally exited the booth, he violently flinched as a piecing whistle filled his ears. He froze in shock, eyes widening as panic clenched at his stomach.
That was the sound of a monitoring charm after it had been disabled; something had happened to Naomi. It was then that a horrible idea struck Harry; the Ministry Wards would have blocked his access to the charms he'd placed. Meaning there was no way to know just how long his charms had been going haywire. Thinking quickly Harry looked around himself to make sure no one was around before disabling the malfunctioning monitoring charm. He than disapparated straight into the sitting room of Naomi's hotel room not much caring that he was apparating within muggle-populated areas.
Appearing in Naomi's hotel room he quickly looked around him, not seeing her immediately he tested his tracking charm but just like his monitoring charm, it was going haywire so he disabled that as well.
Harry was panicking, what would disable his charms like that? What should he do now? He didn't know where Naomi was or what had happened.
'She could be dead already,' he roughly pushed that traitorous thought away, there was no use thinking it was already too late; he needed to find her.
"Okay best way to find her," he muttered, racking his brain for the best method of search. He employed the first one that came to mind, bringing his wand to point at his eyes he muttered, "Lumos Vestigium Naomi." His vision went blurry for a second as a bright flash filled his eyes.
He blinked a few times while they adjusted before shifting his gaze to the floor. It was covered with spots that were illuminated with a soft blue light in the shape of mostly broken footprints in varying degrees of brightness. It was a basic Auror spell that was cast on the eyes, it allowed the caster to see a lit up version of footprints left by the person you were searching for.
He allowed himself a moment of relief at the success of the spell; it would not have worked if she were already dead. Harry didn't take time to revel in his relief however; he really didn't want to see those lights go out if he didn't get to her on time. He knew something had to be going on or his charms wouldn't have turned faulty.
There were barely noticeable prints probably days old; he disregarded those as he found the trail of brightly shining prints leading out the front door. He followed the freshest looking trail into the elevator, for a moment he was unsure of which floor to go to but decided the best place to check was the lobby as it was more likely she'd left the building.
He found he was right as he followed the trail into the lobby and out the front door. He tried to hurry, running along, scanning the sidewalk as he followed the glowing footprints. People were staring at him as he raced by, pushing people out of the way as necessary. He didn't give them or their offended shouts any mind as he continued following the footprints.
Eventually he stopped as he came across a spot where the trail seemed to cross, apparently she'd come back this way from where ever she had gone. The brightest trail led down the street and around a corner.
Harry let out a sigh of relief when he saw Naomi ahead of him, walking along, very much alive.
"Naomi-san!" he called, trying to get her attention. She didn't respond, not so much as a twitch in his direction. 'She must not have heard me,' he thought with a frown as he moved forward making his way to catch pace with her.
When he finally caught up to her he put his hand on her shoulder and said, "Naomi-san?"
He gasped, hand immediately dropping from her shoulder to grasp at his chest as he felt an odd pulse go through him, stumbling a bit as vertigo hit him. It vanished just as fast as it appeared and he forcefully shook it off focusing once more on Naomi.
She turned toward him and her face was passively blank. She didn't smile as she usually did or really give much sign of recognition at all.
There was something seriously off about her, Harry didn't know what it was, but something was very wrong. His instincts screamed at him to get away, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge, and Harry actually felt himself take a step away from her before realizing what he was doing and halting mid-step.
He let his eyes search the surrounding area wondering if perhaps, there was something dangerous around but saw nothing but a few casual passerby, no wands or deadly weapons, no danger. He looked back at Naomi and took a proper look at her and that's when he saw it, that look in her eyes.
When Harry had looked at them last there had been a deadened look to them, given to her by grief. However, there had also been a persevering spark, a glimmer of determination that clearly said that although she was down she wasn't out. Looking into her eyes now Harry didn't see that glimmer anymore. Naomi's eyes were vacant, faraway, dark, and lifeless. He had seen eyes like that on only two different kinds of people the dead and the Imperiused and since Naomi was still walking around he assumed it was the latter.
His eyes widened in shock, was Naomi Imperiused? Why? Who did it? Naomi tried turning back to keep walking but Harry instinctively grabbed her arm. The pulsing started again, dizziness once more, he ignored it not letting go this time.
She looked blankly at him and simply said, "Please let go Harry-kun I have something I need to do."
Harry hated the emotionless way her voice sounded but he didn't have much time to focus on that before he started feeling ill. His breathing became labored; he felt his chest constricting, piercing pain shooting through him. He vaguely noticed that he was sweating and his heart was racing and something about all of this seemed familiar. An urge to let go of Naomi's arm was tugging at his mind but he pushed that urge away stubbornly holding on, afraid that she would somehow disappear if he let go.
He stood there feeling increasingly ill as he tried to figure out what to do next. He looked around; there were too many people here to do any diagnostics spells to see just what was wrong. Harry wasn't sure why but even though this whole thing screamed of Imperious he felt like it was something else entirely. He was starting to feel desperate, nausea nearly overwhelming him, his body started to feel strangely heavy. He looked around shocked that no one noticed how loudly his heart was beating.
Naomi started trying to tug her arm loose from Harry's grasp. He tightened his hold on her and said, "No Naomi you- you have to come with me." He managed to drag her into the bookshop they were standing nearby.
The shop was blissfully empty except for the man behind the register; Harry ignored him as he dizzily stumbled his way into one of the shelved aisles dragging Naomi along. She just kept saying she had something to do. He felt as though he were about to pass out at any moment so he did the only thing he could think of, he apparated from the bookshop Naomi and all.
Harry was violently throwing up all over the white tiled floors of Tokyo's Twenty-six Martyrs Hospital for Magical Maladies, the closest magical hospital Harry could think of. He glanced over and saw that Naomi was in one piece and still very much in a daze. She didn't seem to have reacted to the apparating at all; it sent a spike of worry through him. He realized he was still holding onto her arm in a tight grasp and abruptly let go.
Suddenly the horrible dizziness eased away, his heart quit trying to beat out of his chest, and the urge to vomit was more easily subdued. The piercing pain in his chest diminished as did the heaviness he'd felt earlier.
His eyebrows rose and pulled together in confusion and surprise. He took a few deep breaths, putting his fingers on his neck to feel his pulse; it was in fact normal once more.
It was then that he noticed a Medi-Witch rushing toward him from behind her desk and to his side, trying to get his attention. He wondered if she had perhaps put some sort of medical spell on him that would explained his now calmed continence. However, she just looked worriedly between him and Naomi asking questions. What was wrong, who were they, and after she'd done what Harry assumed to be a diagnostic spell she asked him sounding slightly harassed why he had brought a muggle to a magical hospital.
Harry who had been caught up in his thoughts sprung to attention at this question, he shakily got up off the floor, absently noting that the Medi-Witch had already cleaned up his vomit.
"I- my name is Harry- E-vans Harry Evans" he was so shaken up he almost gave his real name, "I-" Harry saw she had her wand raised at him, whether to curse him or check him over further he wasn't sure but he really didn't want to find out. He waved his hands at her, attempting to put as much authority into his voice as he could. "No I'm not the sick one she is, over there that muggle, I suspect the imperious curse, but I'm not sure. I'm fine but I need you to help her."
She wavered in her attempt looking over at Naomi who had gotten up and was starting to wonder down a hallway. Harry went to go grab her again but just before he touched her shoulder, he suddenly realized with a jolt what had made him sick before. 'I- I touched her both times I got sick, on the sidewalk,' he thought faltering in his step, reluctant to make contact with her again. 'Does she have a different curse on her?' he questioned.
He turned to the Medi-Witch, "Please," he started looking between her and Naomi, "I can't make contact with her; she seems to have something else on her. A different curse maybe, it's making me sick."
The Medi-Witch seemed to finally get a hold of herself, running over to the fireplace behind her desk using what Harry assumed was an internal floo network requesting help from a Healer Takahashi. The man Harry assumed was the healer came rushing into the room, he looked around apparently trying to assess the situation.
Harry waved his hand to get the Healer's attention, "Excuse me, it's my friend Naomi, over there." He pointed at Naomi who was still aimlessly meandering down the hall. "She needs help, she's a muggle and I think someone's cursed her."
Harry wasn't entirely sure what else to say, he was completely out of his element. He knew this must be Kira's work but he had no idea what Kira used to kill people with or what was going on. Harry had thought Kira only killed with heart attacks but here was Naomi acting so oddly and it was making him sick. Why was it making him sick?
He noticed that the Healer was still consulting the Medi-Witch, his frustration and panic spiked inside him and before he had time to think, his anger got the better of him as he yelled, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING! STOP STANDING AROUND AND HELP MY FRIEND BEFORE I CURSE YOU INTO OBLIVION!"
The Medi-Witch jumped at his shout and hid herself behind the Healer who gave him a calculating look as he raised his hands in a consolatory manner.
"Sir you need to calm down, I will help your friend as soon as I figure out what's going on, why don't you take a seat." Healer Takahashi pointed at the rickety wooden chairs of the empty waiting room. "Medi-Witch Tanaka can get you a calming drought while you wait."
Harry stared incredulously at the man who was talking to him so calmly and as though he were a misbehaving five year old while his friend was probably dying. He whipped his head over to look once more at Naomi who was half way down the hall. 'She's going to die, this has to be Kira, doesn't he see it, why isn't he doing anything!' he thought.
He then realized turning his attention away from the Healer had been mistake. He felt a spell hit him and darkness tugged away at his consciousness.
Harry was running, rushing forward trying to fill the gap between him and the giant pen that seemed miles away across a giant expanse of map. Right when he was finally drawing nearer the lines that had once bordered country divides slithered out of their shapes and out of the ground. They grasped around his arms and legs, trying to prevent him from getting to the pen that was clearly writing something in the distance.
As he struggled against them one of the lines holding his arm down morphed into a snake and it started talking to him in an oddly familiar voice that he just couldn't place, "Lost my rememberall, can't remember where I forgot it, I would help you but I'm not on the case."
Harry stared wide eyed at the snake as a lump formed in it's stomach moving up through it's throat, the snake's jaws opened wide and a glass orb filled with silvery blue light fell from it's mouth. Harry managed to catch it in his hand but dropped it, as it turned red upon contact.
It fell to the ground shattering to pieces, a red fog spilling from it, momentarily blinding him. The lines that had been attempting to hold him disappeared as did the snake and he fell to the ground holding himself up with his arms.
Eventually the fog cleared as Harry batted the fumes away gasping for breath; he looked in front of him and jumped backwards as the giant pen appeared in front of him. He looked down at where it was still writing and there on the ground it was spelling out N-a-o-m-i-. He was distracted by it though as he felt his heart starting to beat wildly in his chest, harder and harder until he thought it was going to explode before he opened his eyes and realized it was a dream.
Harry shot up from his lounging position on the bed he was laying on, eyes wide as he wildly looked around trying to figure out where he was. A spike of panic overtook him as his hands patted himself and the bed down as though fearing snakes were in the white depths of the crisp white sheets. Then perhaps even more alarmingly his panic forcefully dispersed, he felt unnaturally calm. Somehow, his initial alarm just seeped out of him and all he could do was think in an ever so objective point of view about just how alarmed he should be.
'I should be worried shouldn't I? Where am I? I should know that shouldn't I?' he questioned himself knowing full well he should be more concerned and yet somehow unable to feel anything but relaxed.
He looked around the small room hoping to figure out where he was and almost immediately, he recognized it.
Glaringly white walls, the crisp white sheets, the white nightstand adorned with tattered magazines that were older than he was. There could be no doubt that this was a hospital. He saw his wand and his clothes also laying on the nightstand next to him. As he grabbed them his body relaxed from a frigid posture he hadn't even known he was in.
'That's odd, I feel calm, why's my body so tense?' he asked himself noting the unusually tense hold he had on his phoenix feather wand. He felt more calm then he could ever remember, so why did his body feel so on edge. He could feel something wearing on his senses but couldn't for the life of him figure out what.
After searching and finding the disillusioned wand holster on the belt of his pants, which still contained the elder wand, he allowed himself a moment to catch his bearings. He raised a hand to protect his eyes from the dreadful fluorescent lighting. He let his eyes close as he rubbed tiredly at his face, supporting himself on his other arm.
'Why am I here again?' he asked himself before it slowly came back to him. 'That's right, that Healer, he stunned me after I brought N-' his thought stopped there, dropping his hand from his face, his eyes shooting open as a jolt of panic shot through him. It was yet again drowned out by this wave of calm, he felt a streak of irritation at this annoying forced calm only for that to disappear as well.
"Naomi," he muttered dazedly as he tugged the sheets off him and climbed out of bed. He paused his movement suddenly as a thought struck him and he realized just why he was so calm.
"They drugged me!" he shouted, or attempted to shout as indignantly as he could when under the influence of what Harry assumed was a rather strong calming drought. It came out more bemused then angry.
"Hello again, Mr. Evans," said a voice from a corner of the room.
Harry flinched startled only now realizing he was not alone. His head shot up at the direction the sound came from and was quite surprised by who he saw. He felt his translator charm switch to English, "Mr. Thompson, what are you doing here?"
He pushed away his initial confusion as he took in the man's plain face; it had taken on a grim look as he stood in front of Harry. Harry couldn't help the feeling of foreboding at his appearance.
Thompson tossed a glass vial to Harry, who thanks to his seeker skills easily caught it even in his drugged state. Bringing the vial before his face Harry saw a thick teal colored liquid. He recognized it as the very basic potion that ministry officials commonly used to undo the effects of other potions.
He absently waved his wand over the stoppered glass phial running a very weak diagnostic spell, the stopper turned blue revealing that the safety seal was on meaning the potion had not been tampered with since it was brewed and sealed. He pulled the stopper out of the bottle bringing it to his nose to sniff, his nose scrunched up as it was assaulted by the smell of rotten cabbage it certainly seemed right.
Harry didn't once take his eyes off the Unspeakable in the room; Thompson just seemed amused by his show of paranoia.
"Don't trust me at all do you?" he asked jauntily.
Harry decided to chug the potion down, before answering. Relief filled him as that annoying forced calm was cleaned from his system as the potion did its work.
Slightly smiling he looked at Thompson as he replied, "Sorry, once an Auror always an Auror, considering I've gotten cursed and drugged once today I'd rather not take any chances." Setting the empty vial down on the nightstand, he quickly started to get out of the hospital bed and was assaulted by wooziness the second he was standing.
"I hate getting stunned," he said disgruntled, leaning his weight on the hospital bed he had just vacated as the room momentarily spun. The stunning in combination with the potions caused quite the punch. He was very sorely tempted to close his eyes but as he had just said, he wasn't letting his guard down.
He gulped down his urge to vomit for the second time that day, pushing his nausea away to face the man in front of him who was starting to talk.
"Mr. Evans, you should take it easy, you don't look so good."
"Where's Naomi?" Harry asked getting right to the point as panic for Naomi's well being surged to the surface of his thoughts.
"I- you mean the muggle?" he asked as though making sure they were on the same page.
"Yes," answered Harry, letting his irritation slip into his voice, "My friend, Naomi is a muggle and last I checked her condition wasn't good. How long have I been out, where is she and what's her status?" He tried to transform the irritation into an authoritative voice putting his Auror face on.
Thompson seemed startled by Harry sudden take-charge attitude but responded with an equally serious attitude, sounding slightly offended.
"To answer your first question, I originally came down because I had an appointment with a Healer. I stayed because I heard them mention someone named Evans fitting your description came and brought a muggle with them. They were about to call the Auror's but I took care of it." The man sent him an admonishing look before continuing, "I thoroughly expect a very expensive bottle of Firewhiskey, for that one."
Harry nodded before saying, "Thanks... for that," he was indeed very grateful he didn't think getting Auror attention would help at all. They would invariably find out who he was. The following interrogation and trouble of it would have been very inconvenient and would have drawn him away from Naomi.
The man nodded back before his face turned grim again, "Now... on to your other questions, the muggle, Naomi you said her name was? Well she's been given a private room on the fifth floor, now I need to ask, has she suffered any significant emotional trauma lately?"
Harry could feel the calculating gaze the man was sending him and was confused about it and the man's question. He nodded before answering, "Yes, her- her fiancé has recently died, but what has that got t-"
The Unspeakable interrupted him nodding his head with a look on his face as though that was exactly the answer he was expecting. "I see, Mr. Potter," he said dropping all pretenses, "The Healers have been unable to figure out what's wrong with her, and after checking her over myself, I can honestly say there doesn't seem to be any magical influence. The only conclusion I can come to is that there's nothing magically wrong with her. "
Harry felt his stomach drop as he heard this. "Nothing magically wrong," he parroted faintly, disbelievingly. "Nothing magically wrong," he said it again, incredulity seeping into his voice as it increased in volume. He pinned the man with a glare powered by both his anger and his growing panic. His voice grew even louder, "How can you say there's nothing wrong, you examined her, the Healer examined her and neither of you think there's anything wrong! I saw her myself there was clearly something wrong with her, I was affected by whatever it was." Harry insisted.
For a moment, Harry fleetingly thought he saw something cross over the man's face, a piercing look of interest or disbelief but it was gone so fast he knew he must have imagined it. He shook his head; the day's events were clearly making him paranoid. "How long have I been out? I need to see her, take me to her room," he demanded.
Thompson sighed but nodded affirmatively, "You've only been out for about an hour, when I heard they sedated you I came to wake you up. I'm kind of wondering what you did to make them feel the need to restrain you but I suppose now's really not the time to ask. I'll take you to her room but you'll have to get dressed first."
It was then that Harry noticed that they had dressed him in an ugly green pastel nightgown. He let out a few choice words as he took in his attire, "Alright, I'll get dressed wait for me in the hall?" he asked resignedly. The man nodded and left the room leaving Harry to hurriedly get redressed.
He wondered how it didn't occur to him before that he wasn't dressed in his own clothes when he was holding them in his hands. He decided to blame his momentary stupidly on being drugged. 'I don't have time for this,' he thought as he finished getting dressed and rushed after the man.
As Harry entered the room he was immediately drawn to the hospital bed where Naomi was laying, a sliver of dread made itself known in the form of a lump in his throat at the site of her laying there so motionless. But then he observed her chest rising and falling assuring him that she was only sleeping.
He sighed in relief as he slumped into the chair next to the bed, turning his attention to Thompson who was standing in the doorway unsurely. He sighed again as he got back up. He motioned him to come in before closing the door and putting up a silencing charm just in case. Thompson raised an eyebrow but didn't otherwise comment on his paranoid behavior.
Harry sat back down before addressing him "You said you checked her over."
Thompson nodded in response.
"Dreamless sleep?" he asked motioning to her prone form and again he nodded yes.
"No anomalies what so ever?" He could hear the desperation leaking into his voice. He knew it couldn't be just a coincidence, and although an anomaly would be bad, it's better than complete ignorance.
"I- no I couldn't find any," Thompson answered shaking his head, "I do however think I know what it could be..."
Harry had been looking once more at Naomi despairingly but shot his head back in Thompson's direction.
"What?"
"Well you mentioned her fiancé died recently. I, well... have you considered that it could be a... response to that," he said stumbling on his words as he attempted to put things as delicately as he could.
Harry narrowed his eyes at him, his hands gripping the armrest of the chair he was sitting in. He looked away from the man to Naomi as he said, "You think she's having a mental breakdown." His voice came out deceptively calm, a monotone with underlining venom to it that Harry didn't even try to disguise. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man flinch and a vindictive part of him felt pleased at that.
"Mr. Potter surely you know how common it is for someone whose suffered the trauma of losing a loved one to have an extreme emotional rea-"
Harry's eyes narrowed further as he turned his glare directly on the man interrupting him. He couldn't stop the hollow laugh that escaped him as barely restrained anger laced his words.
"Yes I know that quite well. In fact I also know very much what it's like to have a breakdown and I can tell you right now that's not what's going on here."
Thoughts of his own little breakdowns surfaced into the prefatory of his mind. There had been two, one after the war and one after what everyone kept referring to as his 'midlife crisis' after the breakup. After working himself into exhaustion, he spiraled into a depression so deep it terrified him to imagine ever reaching that low point again.
Uncertainty warred with his initial denial as a traitorous thought sneaked its way into his mind. What if it really was just a breakdown? What if he was making a mountain out of a molehill? He desperately wanted to believe it because as bad as a breakdown was it was so much more preferable to the alternative. He wanted to believe the man was right but... he knew he wasn't. He had been ignoring his instincts for too long. This was too much of a coincidence and he knew, just knew it wasn't something so simple. After all a breakdown couldn't explain his charms going faulty or his getting ill upon contact.
Harry viciously shook his head, 'I'm not going to do this again,' he thought, 'I can't keep doubting myself.' Harry looked up at Thompson who was silently watching him apprehensively waiting for him to say more.
They stared at one another for a moment before Harry broke the silence. "It's not a breakdown, I know it's not and I understand if you don't believe me, but it doesn't really matter to me if you do or not. I need whatever information you've got from your inspection of her as well as the name of the healers who are on her case... I also need your silence on the matter."
He paused as he looked Thompson in the eye as he continued. "You said you came here for a Healer's appointment, what'll it take to keep it that way?"
Thompson seemed to pause and consider what Harry had said, instantly catching on to what he was hinting at before he looked at him shrewdly and answered.
"Healer bills being what they are? 500 Galleons should cover it."
Harry was surprised he asked for money when he considered how well Unspeakables were paid for their mysterious job and how much more beneficial it could have been for him to have asked for something else. Harry didn't feel in the least bit arrogant for assuming the man would want to take advantage of his influence instead of his wealth.
Thompson must have noticed Harry's surprise for he smiled faintly and shrugged his shoulders saying, "Once an Obliviator always an Obliviator."
Harry felt his corner of his mouth tug into an almost smile.
"That the going rate for being in the know these days?" Harry asked referencing the Obliviators penchant for 'forgetting' to mind wipe people. The man's smile turned wry.
"With inflation these days who knows what those whippersnappers charge."
Harry nodded as he reached into his pocket and withdrew the Mokeskin pouch Hagrid had given him so long ago. It was shrunken down to the size of a small wallet and worked very well for that purpose; he was the only one who could take out whatever he put in it. He also took out his wand.
Harry noticed the man raise his own wand as though afraid of attack, he pretended not to notice as he re-sized the pouch. After he opened it, he placed it on his lap. Pointing his wand at the opening, he muttered "Accio Gringotts bag."
There was a clinking sound as the leather Gringotts bag zoomed out of the much smaller bag and into his left hand, which he had positioned in front of his face just preventing it from hitting him. He had learned to do that the hard way.
"Undetectable extension charm?" asked the Unspeakable impressed.
"Friend of mine taught me the spell," answered Harry not bothering to look up from his counting as he measured out the required 500 galleons. He carried around 700 galleons or so as just in case money and right now he was rather glad he did. He then conjured an empty leather pouch and placed the coins inside it. Setting it aside, he put his Gringotts bag back in his mokeskin pouch, re-shrunk, and replaced it in his pocket.
"Willing to take an Oath?" Harry asked Thompson.
He seemed surprised, "Is that really necessary?"
"You seem like a nice guy Mr. Thompson but I don't like taking any chances, no offense."
Thompson smiled and waved him off, "No worries, considering you're bribing me I can't really blame you."
"I'll bind it," said Harry grabbing the bribe as he stood up and held out his right hand to Thompson, holding his wand in his left. They shook hands and Harry waved his wand a bit clumsily with his less dominant hand as he said the incantation to initiate their oath.
He then started, "Do you Phillip Thompson swear to keep what you've witnessed today with regards to one Harry Potter-Black aka Harrison Evans and Naomi Misaki as well as this entire incident a secret with the understanding that 500 Galleons will be paid in full in return which will be revoked upon violation of this oath?"
Thompson nodded as he said, "I swear, do you Harry Potter-Black swear to keep your promise to pay 500 Galleons in full for my secrecy and keep this instance of bribery a secret under the understanding that this oath will be faulty should you not pay the said bribe within a 24 hour period."
"I swear," agreed Harry, their hands glowed white as the oath was enacted. Harry then handed the bag of galleons to the man.
He knew the oath was actually faulty; the fact of the matter was Harry didn't actually know what Naomi's last name was having suspected that last name to be a fake. Fortunately, Thompson didn't know that. As far as Thompson knew, he had more to gain than to lose in following that oath. If it hadn't been faulty the galleons would have transferred back to Harry if he said anything and Harry would be able to turn him in for accepting a bribe. The most Harry would get was a slap on the wrist for bribing where as Thompson would lose his job.
Harry looked once more at Naomi before asking, "How long will she be out?"
"Oh I'd say about another hour or two, the healers want to discharge her after that," warned Thompson shrinking his bag and placing his bribe in his pocket.
Harry felt a momentary spike of concern at this news before reassuring himself that he could extend her time here with a generous donation to the hospital. He'd already bribed one person today what was one more?
"So about your findings..." Harry asked.
Thompson's face turned slightly sheepish as he responded, "I didn't actually record my findings since it wasn't official ministry business."
As Harry allowed his annoyance at this news to show on his face, the man quickly continued. "But I remember what I've checked, I'll just go check over my memories in a pensieve and record those for you shall I?"
Harry nodded, "And the healer on the case?"
"Healer Takahashi and Medi-Witch Tanaka were on the case,"
"Takahashi...? You mean the one that stunned me," asked Harry disgruntled.
Thompson grinned, "That's the one! Do you need me to-?"
"No." cut off Harry, "You've done me quite a few favors already. I'll handle it just get back to the job you seem so happy to endanger for someone you hardly know."
The man winked at him, "That I will, Mr. Evans, that I will." With that, Thompson jauntily walked off with promises to owl the information to him.
Harry shortly thought about how oddly nice that guy was. He was quite amazed that the man had been so helpful to him. But then he supposed people in the Wizarding World tended to want to help 'The Harry Potter'. Somehow, Thompson hadn't really struck Harry as that type though; perhaps he was just a generally nice guy.
Shrugging his shoulders at the human conundrum Harry turned to Naomi's sleeping form. He felt panic welling in him again before determinedly steeling himself to go have a few words with this Healer Takahashi.
So many hours, galleons, calls, and threats later Harry was staring at Naomi's medical files despairingly. He was not a Healer, and although he could read and understand the basics of the Healer's report, it was not going so well. If highly trained Healers and an Unspeakable couldn't figure out what was going on just how could he?
For the umpteenth time that day Harry growled out a few swear words in frustration as he tried in vain to think of what could be causing this. He knew a lot about curses and jinks, dark potions and artifacts; it was a big part of Auror training. Not to mention defense against these things had always been a hobby for him. However, as he wracked the archives of his mind he came up short.
He tried to reassure himself with the fact that Hermione was coming to Japan in a few short hours and yet even this did not comfort him. He had called her because as always when in doubt you ask Hermione. It had been difficult to explain the situation, especially as it was over the international floo network but he'd managed to convince her to come immediately. She said she only had a few things to settle at work and then she'd be there.
As he waited for her, he was overcome with helplessness, being unable to do anything for Naomi. He felt useless, and although he'd convinced the Healers to do a more thorough check up they still concluded it to be a muggle issue. He had also managed to extend her stay here for a few more days; he planned to have her transferred to Saint Mungos after that.
She had awoken a few times and Harry found her in just the same condition she had been before he was stunned. They had even had to magically restrain her to the bed to prevent her from wondering away. She continued to act dead to the world and continued to insist that she had something she had to do. Though just what that was she refused to say.
He'd tried some compulsion charms but it was to no avail and he didn't want to risk Veritaserum reacting to whatever was causing her behavior in case it was somehow viral. The truth potion was far too volatile to play fast and loose with. Naomi was in a stable condition physically and he would not do anything to jeopardize that. He kept close monitor on her heart, which thankfully had remained seemingly healthy.
He knew he should have been happy that she was not dead nor did she appear to be heading that way. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but be on edge. It felt as though it was the quiet before the storm.
He would sit there poring over medical files and heavy tomes on every magical malady one could think of. Restlessly tapping his foot on the floor or a pen on a note pad. Shifting his attention from the books, to Naomi, to the clock on the wall as he waited for Hermione to show up. Healers and Medi-Witches, whom were tentatively musing over the case on his insistence dropped by ever so often with theories that never panned out.
He'd drop everything at regular intervals to check Naomi's vitals and pace around the tiny sterile room as he pushed his mind to think faster, harder, to come up with the answer before it was too late.
Eventually he cast a spell to amplify Naomi's heartbeat so that he would know that it was still working normally without having to constantly check. He could hear the ticking of the clock above the door mixing with the sound of her heart.
He thought perhaps amplifying her heartbeats had been a mistake, as the sounds seemed to displace him. Taking him to a time when he heard his own heartbeat, thinking it was numbered, wondering how many he'd have left. It made him wonder in morbid curiosity just how many beats Naomi would have before the storm hit, before his efforts became futile and proved that he had failed her again.
He felt so helpless, so defeated as his thoughts trailed down these depressive avenues sitting in the uncomfortable seat next to Naomi. "I'm so sorry," he muttered quietly. Feeling as though he should just give up, he started shutting the medical book he was perusing in defeat. But just then Naomi's eyes opened and although they stared blankly at him it was enough to force his determination to the forefront of his mind. He would not give up until the end. He could save her or he could fail her but either way Harry decided then and there he would struggle all the way.
Authors Note: Well there we go, yet another chapter. I was going to have even more happen but I figured the story would flow better if I were to cut it off here. Well that and I'm feeling creatively exhausted from writing this and thought it's probably be better to give you all this update than to make you wait even longer when it could just as easily be cut off here. There's something to look forward in the next chapter, Harry's going to talk to L! Well anyways thanks for reading. I feel pretty good about this chapter but I'd love to hear your opinions, so tell me what you think!