A bead of sweat drips down his forehead as he walks down the corridor towards one door in particular. He wasn't supposed to be here, but he was on a critical mission. Softly, he pushes the door ajar and slides himself into the room. His eyes scan the faces of the three occupants, and all but the baby were asleep. A chill runs down his spine as his eyes catch those green ones of the newborn Potter lying in his bassinet. He knew from his training that babies could only see about twenty centimetres ahead of them. Still, he felt seen, and that in itself was uneasy.
Slowly, from inside his work robes, the man pulls out a card, placing it atop the blanket that the baby was wrapped in.
"Good luck, Albus Severus," the man whispers, then jumps in fear when the baby's father, who's sleeping in an armchair, lets out a soft snore.
Heart racing, the man, picks up the mother's file, noisily flipping through the parchments to check on her chart.
Harry Potter awakes with a start, glancing around their St. Mungo's suite. His eyes land upon a figure at the foot of his wife's bed and relaxes. "Morning, Simon," Harry's voice croaks sleepily.
Simon, the junior healer who had supported their healer during the delivery, glances up, "Oh, Mr Potter, did I wake you? I apologise."
"Not at all," Harry stands, stretching his back. "I thought your shift had ended at midnight."
"No, I just went on break," Junior Healer Simon answers. "Mrs Potter's vitals are looking good. By this rate, you should be able to leave around midday today." He explains.
"Great, I'd much rather be in my bed than this chair.," he jokes.
Simon chuckles politely as he scribbles notes on the chart.
"What time is it?" Harry asks.
"It's one o'clock, sir."
"Good grief," Harry removes his glasses, then runs his hands down his face, exhausted.
"You should try to get some more sleep, Mr Potter," Simon suggests, replacing Ginny's chart on the end of her bed.
Harry shakes his head, "Thank you for taking care of us; I'm very appreciative of you and Healer Rachel. I'm glad we made it here in time for the birth; Ginny did not want to leave home."
"Did she have a negative experience with her last healer?" Simon asks curiously.
"Not at all. It was my birthday yesterday, and I think Ginny didn't want me and Albus to share a birthday." Harry admits, believing that to have been part of the reason and not wanting to end his party early.
"You know, I share a birthday with my sister," Simon states, staring off. "She's six years older than me. My parents couldn't afford two parties so close together, so we always shared the day, which I grew to hate as I developed my own interests and friendships." Simon's forehead creases into a frown, seemingly remembering his childhood too vividly. "Birthdays are supposed to be a special day, they're supposed to be all about you, and my sister loved to remind me that our birthday was her birthday first." His eyes fall to the ground. "I stopped celebrating my birthday in my second year at Hogwarts, the year after my sister graduated and she turned eighteen. My parents held a massive party for her to celebrate, and in all the planning, they seemingly forgot it was also mine. I didn't even receive a card."
"That can't be easy," Harry comments, for lack of a better reply.
"Sorry, I'll leave you to...." Simon turns to leave, pausing as his eyes fall on the bassinet and an excited smile forms on his face. "Look who's awake." He reaches into the crib and lifts the newborn Potter into his arms.
Harry's eyes fall on his son, and his instincts kick in to take his child away from the stranger.
Simon gently rocks the baby in his arms, "You didn't ask for my advice, Mr Potter, but I'm in a giving mood. Our world will never forget the birthday of our saviour. Healer Rachel told me how many people were at your party, and they were all there for you. Now, with young Albus Severus being born on your birthday, the world is going to compare him to you, don't add to that pressure!"
Harry frowns, not liking whatever is happening right now and walks over, his arms open, ready to take his son from the junior healer.
"Here you go," Simon mutters, handing the child over.
Harry cradles Albus Severus to his chest, protecting him from the man, who's is clearly going through something right now. "Simon, I couldn't care less about my birthday; I've had very few happy ones. I didn't want that party; my wife organised it because that's what the Weasleys do; they make sure everyone in their family feels special on their birthday." Harry defends himself but keeps his voice quiet, not waking his sleeping wife.
Simon's face brightens considerably, "Good, the Weasley's are a good family, a happy family, and any child embraced by them is bound to be just as happy, I hope." Simon sighs.
"Are you alright, Simon?" Harry asks, his instinct still buzzing around in his chest, warning him that something is not quite right here.
"You're fortunate to have Harry Potter as your father, Albus Severus," Simon speaks softly to the newborn. "I just hope he knows how lucky he is to have you as a son, too." He adds, then turning on his heel, the junior doctor leaves the room.
Harry stands in the centre of their birth suite, staring at the door where Simon had left. He would need to have a word with their healer, Rachel, about him. There was something not right about his presence in their room. However, that would have to wait, as right now, Harry has his son in his arms, and nothing would distract him from this moment. He returns to his armchair, lying Albus Severus down in his lap.
Draco's hope of a good night's sleep is squandered when Hermione's phone rings, waking them both up in the early hours on the morning of the first of August. He buries his head under the duvet to muffle the sound of his wife answering her phone.
Hermione's bleary eyes stare for a moment at the screen, reading the name multiple times, before understanding who is calling.
"Hermione! We got a card from the Death Eaters." Harry's voice exclaims with heightened panic.
"Tell me everything," she instructs, sitting up, suddenly very much awake.
Hermione listens to her friend's rambled concerns for a few seconds before shaking her husband awake beside her. "Draco," she snaps, shaking his shoulder. "Harry's on the phone," she explains. "They received a card from Heres."
Frowning as his sleep clears from his mind, Draco quickly comes to an understanding, "Was there a prophecy?" He asks Hermione.
On the phone, having heard Draco's question, Harry answers, "No, but it worries me just as much."
"He says, No but-" Hermione sighs. "How do I put this on speakerphone?" She removes the phone from her ear to inspect the numerous buttons.
"It's that button there," Draco points out, and Hermione smiles in amusement that her pureblood husband understands muggle technology better than her. "Harry, you're on speakerphone. What does the card say?" She asks, speaking louder than necessary.
"It reads, 'Dearest Potters, congratulations on the birth of your son, we take your naming him-" Harry stutters to a stop. "We take your naming him Albus Severus as confirmation that the New Order and our movement are joined in our effort to remove the Minister from his seat of governance; yours sincerely, Heres.'"
"I'm sorry, you named your son 'Albus Severus Potter'?" Draco asks, a hint of teasing in his voice.
"Yes," Harry answers, daring him to have an issue with it.
"Lovely," Draco comments, grinning at Hermione. "I'm sure my godfather would have loved a Potter bearing his name."
"Arsehole," Harry mutters.
"The card raises many questions," Hermione brings the two men back to the issue at hand.
"How do the Death Eaters know the Order of the Phoenix has reformed?" Draco asks.
"I assume Dennis told them," Harry sighs glumly.
"The bastard," Hermione curses. "After everything we've been through, he's betrayed us like this."
"It's just a guess, but I hate to think we have a mole within our midst," Harry claims.
"We need a list of every representative of the New Order so we can rate each individual on how trustworthy they are," Hermione suggests.
"I would like to know firstly, how they knew my son's name just hours after his birth, and secondly, why they think I would use my son's name as a secret message?" Harry questions.
"We know from Scorpius' birth that there is either a mole within St. Mungos or the Death Eaters have easy access to the wards," Hermione reminds them.
"How was the card delivered?" Draco asks.
"I found it in Albus' bassinet," Harry answers.
Draco shudders at the mention of Albus. How could he not think of Albus Dumbledore at the name being spoken? His forearm, where his fade Dark Mark lies, begins to itch as he remembers being ordered to murder his Headmaster. Getting used to hearing and using that name concerning the newborn Potter would take a lot of mental strain on his part. Hermione's free hand rests upon his right hand, stopping him from seemingly absentmindedly scratching his tattoo. She squeezes his hand, entwining their fingers to stop him.
"And the card wasn't there when you picked him up?" Hermione asks, clearly not using the baby's name for her husband's sake.
"No, there wasn- I didn't pick him up," Harry states, sounding suddenly breathless. "Simon picked him up."
"Simon?" Hermione questions.
"The junior healer," Harry clarifies. "He was in the room when I woke up. It was all so strange; it really put me on edge. He kept talking about how special birthdays are, and he hates sharing them with his older sister. Honestly, he was weirding me out and was holding my son at the time, so I wasn't exactly focused on what he was saying. But I do remember him telling my son that he was lucky to have me as a father, but he hoped I knew how lucky I was to have Albus as a son. It scared me like he knew something I don't know about Albus." Harry admits.
"It sounds like he's got issues surrounding shared birthdays and just wants you to make sure you make the thirty-first of July special for both you and Albus." Draco comments.
Hermione gasps, "Harry, it's Simon. He was the junior healer for us too, when Scorpius was born. Draco, do you remember how he stayed past the end of his shift?"
"Yes," Draco feels chill run through his body. "I also remember him being there when we arrived; not an hour later, the Daily Prophet had announced their arrival at St. Mungos."
"You think Simon is the mole, a Death Eater?" Harry asks,
"I don't want to jump to conclusions, but he's probably the St. Mungo's Death Eater that Dennis mentioned. His codename was Cura."
"Can you get here? I need to go, but I don't want to leave Ginny and Albus alone. You've got James, yes?" Harry asks.
"Harry, your son has just been born; you can't go off investigating now," Hermione warns him.
"I need to know for sure," Harry admits, anger in his voice. "I won't be able to rest until I know Simon's safe or in holding."
"We'll be there in half an hour," Draco tells him. "I'll help in any way you need."
"Thank you, Draco," Harry sincerely states before ending the call.
"You're going to help him do something stupid," Hermione shakes her head.
"Wouldn't you rather I was with him to stop him being too stupid?" Draco quirks his eyebrow, making her roll her eyes.
Well, we need to get the boys up and ready," Hermione leaves, and Draco quickly follows to help.
As promised, half an hour later, Hermione and Draco burst out of the lift onto the maternity ward of St. Mungos. James is fast asleep in Draco's arms, his arms tightly wrapped around the man's neck, while Hermione carries their sleeping son. They storm down the corridor until Harry calls them into his and Ginny's suite.
"I've been stood here watching, and he hasn't gone past. I haven't seen him since he left here about ninety minutes ago," Harry admits, closing the suite door behind them.
"Ginny, how are you?" Hermione asks her friends, ensuring she's safe and well.
"I'm fine, just pissed off," Ginny claims softly, her newborn in her arms, sleeping.
Gently, Draco places the sleeping James into the armchair, while Hermione rests Scorpius, who subconsciously snuggles in the warmth of his friend. A spare blanket is thrown over the two toddlers in hopes they'll sleep for a bit longer.
"I wrote down what Simon told me. It's a skill we were taught in Auror training, but as I said, I wasn't exactly paying attention," Harry passes his notes to Draco, who scans down the parchment.
"If he's not a Death Eater, then he's going through some sort of breakdown," Draco comments. "Maybe it's nearing his birthday." He suggests.
"I don't care what's going on with him; he put my son at risk," Ginny tells them.
"I'm just saying, let's not throw the title 'Death Eater' at people until we're sure," Draco clarifies, passing the notes to Hermione.
"You're coming with me, Draco." The phrase is worded like a question, but the undertones tell him it wasn't a request.
"Yes, what's our first step Auror Potter?" Draco asks, wanting to lighten the mood.
Harry frowns at his joking nature, "The maternity reception; I need to know if his shift has ended."
Draco follows Harry as he leaves the Potter's suite after kissing his wife sweetly.
At the end of the corridor is a semicircle desk. Currently, only one junior healer is sitting, writing in a patient's file.
"Excuse me," Harry interrupts her writing.
"Mr Potter," the junior healer places her quill down, giving him her full attention. "Is everything alright?"
"No, where is Simon?" Harry asks, his fingers urgently drumming on the desk.
"Junior Healer Simon?" The woman clarifies. "His shift ended at midnight. He's gone home. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"No, he was in our room around one this morning," Harry claims.
The woman frowns, standing from her chair and disappearing into the staff room behind her and returning with a clipboard, "It says here he signed out five minutes after midnight." She shows them the clipboard.
Harry takes the clipboard, scanning down the list of names to where he finds 'Simon Slater'. Then ran his finger along to Saturday the thirty-first of July when he signed in at 11:48 am and then signed out on Sunday the first of August at 00:05 am.
"Have you seen him since his shift ended?" Draco asks.
The woman's gaze fixes on him, "No, I haven't seen him at all. My shift started at midnight." She points to her own name 'Julia Barnes', then along to her signing in at 11:58 pm. "Is there an issue?"
"Yes, he was in our suite when I woke up; he was checking my wife's chart," Harry affirms.
Junior Healer Julia takes the signing in clipboard back, placing it behind her, "Look, Mr Potter, I don't know what to tell you. I assume you haven't gotten much sleep the past couple of hours; maybe you saw him before midnight."
"How well do you know Simon?" Draco asks, changing the line of investigation since they seemed to be getting nowhere.
"Not well. Do you know how many staff we have just on the maternity ward?" Julia rhetorically asks. "You saw the sign in sheet; that's just for the junior healers. The only time I see him outside of work is for nights out with work, which is twice a year if we're lucky." She claims.
"I asked Simon when I woke up," Harry starts, going back to questioning her on the man's whereabouts. "Why he was here because I thought his shift ended at midnight, but he told me he's just gone on break."
Julia sighs, "Well, that doesn't make any sense. All junior healer shifts changes at midnight or midday."
"That's what I thought," Harry agrees.
Realising that Mr Potter probably wasn't going to let this go, Julia suggested, "Do you want me to ask your healer? She'll know better than me."
"Yes, thank you," Harry grins.
They watch as Junior Healer Julia walks towards the Potter's healer's office, knocks once and enters.
"This is suspicious. Why was Simon here if not to deliver the card?" Harry whispers.
"You're jumping to conclusions again."
Harry glares at him, "I'm following the evidence."
A minute later, Healer Rachel joins them with Junior Healer Julia, "Can you follow me, Mr Potter?" His healer leads them to her office.
Inside, she asks, "What's all these questions about Simon for?"
"I need to speak to him about why he was in my suite at one o'clock this morning, despite his shift ending at midnight?" Harry subtly informs her, without misleading her with accusations of him being a mole or a Death Eater.
"That is strange," Rachel nods. "I'm afraid I haven't seen him since about eleven o'clock, as I've been in here writing up your patient notes, and I assumed he left at midnight. The sign out sheet confirms he did." She explains.
"I know what the sheet says, but they can be forged. Or Simon could have left at midnight and returned an hour later."
"Why would he do that?" Rachel's brow furrows, realising this inquiry was more than just wanting to talk to Simon.
"He was acting strange. He had this darkness about him that worried me." Harry states.
"What can you tell us about him? His personality, his living situation, family life?" Draco prompts.
"I don't know him well, but he seems quite a fun person. At our Christmas party last year, he took part in the karaoke, he was dancing on tables and laughing along with the rest of us. I got the impression he's quite the party guy." Rachel shrugs. "He's never mentioned his family to me. I know many junior healers live together while they're training to save on rent. I did it back in the day, but as far as I know, Simon doesn't."
"Do you know where he lives?" Harry asks.
"I can't just give personal details away," Rachel tells them.
"Well, I can easily find that out myself," Harry sighs, his eyes knowingly flicking to Draco. They did have Alexander Vyner, the Head of Registrations, on their side, who would be able to find Simon Slater in the archives for them.
"I need to go," Harry tells his healer. "Hermione Granger is with my wife. If Simon returns, get her to send me a message straight away."
Rachel nods, "Has he done something wrong? Are you investigating him for something?"
"That's confidential," he claims, as a bell behind Healer Rachel rings, and she has to leave for a patient in need.
Harry and Draco leave in a hurry, walking quickly down Diagon Alley to formulate their plans in hushed tones.
"So, your plan is to ask Vyner for Simon's address, knock his door down, and ask him if he's a Death Eater?" Draco wonders aloud.
"Have you got a better plan?" Harry stops in his tracks, glaring at him. "Wouldn't you do anything for your son?"
"Obviously," Draco growls, not liking the accusation that he wouldn't.
"Well, here I am, doing everything in my power to protect my son," Harry tells him.
"And what are you going to tell Minister Shacklebolt when he asks why you're searching the Slater files? Because, in case you forgot, he has a map that will tell him exactly which files have been opened." Draco reminds him, trying to keep his volume down.
It was nearing three in the morning, but they were down Diagon Alley where anyone could hide or listen from their flats above the shops.
"In case you forgot, the Minister is currently working on sentencing known Death Eater Alphard Vale. Any evidence we provide him of another can only help," Harry mentions.
"Well, I apologise for not trusting the Minister is doing his job. That is why I joined the New Order," Draco hisses at the man in front of him, then realisation dawns on him. "We can't go to Shacklebolt until we have enough information against Simon. Therefore, our next line of enquiry should be to figure out as much as we can about Cura and how the Death Eaters discovered the formation of the New Order. I think it's time to give our mole a little visit." Draco suggests.
Harry nods, "I know where Dennis lives." He reaches out, takes Draco's wrist, and apparates to the man in question's house.
Harry repeatedly knocks on Dennis Creevey's flat door until he sees the light flicker on.
"Open the door, Dennis; we need to speak," Harry calls, sensing him close.
"Who is it?" Dennis' voice asks nervously behind the door.
"Harry."
"Harry who?"
"Harry fucking Potter, who do you think? Open the door!" Draco bangs on the door again.
There's silence for a split second before Dennis asks, voice timid, "Who's that?"
"Draco," Harry answers eerily calm.
"And why would I open the door for you?"
Draco steps forward, "Because out of everyone who knows what you've done, I'm the only one who understands."
They hear the click of the key unlocking the door, and Harry pulls the handle down, pushing the door open, effectively ambushing Dennis Creevey into his flat. Behind them, Draco scans the street for any nosy neighbours, then shuts and locks the door behind them.
Turning around, Draco finds Harry pinning Dennis to the wall, his forearm pressing into the younger man's sternum.
"Did you tell them?" Harry pushes him hard.
"Hey, Harry, I'm here to stop you from doing something stupid," Draco reminds him. "This is stupid. You can't just walk in and accuse him. Ask him calmly."
When Harry doesn't move, Draco sighs, "Dennis, hi," he smiles as he greets the man currently being pinned to the wall of his entrance hall. "I haven't had a chance to tell you this, but you're an idiot for getting involved with them," he politely informs the man.
The man's wide eyes shift from Harry to Draco, where they narrow, "Yes, I'm aware, thank you," he sarcastically answers.
"Enough," Harry growls, pushing Dennis again. "Did you tell Heres about the New Order?"
"What?" He responds, genuinely confused. "Heres doesn't know about the New Order."
"Heres does know," Harry claims. "We received a card this morning, in our St. Mungo's suite, from Heres, congratulating us on the birth of our son." He explains.
Face fallen, Dennis quickly assures, "I never told him; I'm not stupid."
"I think we've established you are, Picus," Draco uses his code name just to drive home the stupidity of the man.
Dennis physically flinches at the mention of his code name. He's only used to Heres and his fellow Death Eater's using it, never to his face, only his mask.
"Are you suggesting I have two moles within the Order?" Harry hisses, drawing the younger man's attention back.
"I'm not a mole for them; I'm a mole for you," Dennis shouts back, hurt by the accusation.
"Then you better start providing us with some information. Which other Death Eaters would know about the New Order?" Harry interrogates.
"I don't know."
"Not good enough," Harry pushes him once more, harder.
"Harry, step back," Draco orders, pulling on the man's shoulder to break them up.
Harry points his finger at Dennis, "You came to me, and you asked for my help, and I promised to keep you safe, for Colin's sake. But right now, Heres is coming after me, and I will throw everyone under the bus to protect my family, so you better give me something I can use against them."
Draco thinks that sounds a little extreme but doesn't interrupt as the threat seems to work.
"There are three fractions within the new movement." Dennis begins, his hands shaking as he raises three fingers. "The originals, the backbenchers, and the inner circle." He lists. "The originals are from the old movement. The backbenchers are new members; we don't speak unless spoken to first. Then, the inner circle is any individual who has proven themself useful, and they're mostly new members recruited by Heres or Dextra for a specific purpose. They meet more regularly than the rest of us, so I guess one of them could know about the New Order."
"I'm going to need a list of the inner circle's code names," Harry instructs.
"Like, right now, because we have a meeting tonight, so if you wait until tomorrow, I can give you a more accurate list," Dennis mentions.
"Tonight, after the meeting. You come to my house with this list and any information about my son or Cura." Harry orders.
"Cura?" Dennis questions. "Do you think he delivered the card from Heres?"
"Yes, his name is Simon Salter, a junior healer," Harry tells him, and Dennis' eye twitches. "He works on the maternity ward."
"We aren't supposed to know real identities," he mutters. "Does he know you caught him?"
"I don't know, but I have to assume he does," Harry says. "What would you do if your secret identity was uncovered?"
"I would have to disappear; even if there was only a small chance that my identity was compromised, I wouldn't risk it," Dennis tells them.
"How would you disappear?" Draco questions.
"Dextra is Heres' right-hand man; he's the only one who knows Heres identity. If we're in trouble, we have a way to contact him, and if he deems the trouble to be enough of an emergency, he'll pass it on to Heres. From there, Heres has multiple properties worldwide, which he acquired from dead or imprisoned Death Eaters." Dennis explains further. "If Dextra has been contacted, you'll have no chance of finding Cura until Heres wants him to be found." He finishes.
"What do you know about Cura?" Harry asks.
"He's not one of the aggressive ones who enjoys taking part in the uprisings. However, he does get over-excited during meetings when they discuss Heres' plans. Overall, I think he's harmless, just a little too into being part of a cult."
"What's a cult?" Draco asks, but Harry dismisses the question.
"Is there anyone in the movement Cura is close with and might tell if he has to disappear?" Harry questions instead.
Dennis' eyes become unfocused for a second as something crosses his mind, "Not anymore, but he was close to Umbra. She sat with us on the backbenches until a few months ago, when she joined the inner circle. They'd mutter to each other during meetings, and Cura seemed quite angry when she moved up without him. Sometimes we mingle before Heres or Dextra arrives at the meetings, and they've been avoiding each other. I think they know each other outside the movement."
"What does Umbra do?" Harry asks.
"She was recruited by Dextra before I joined. She works in the Department of Mysteries, so I'm surprised she wasn't in the inner circle to begin with." He admits. "She must have been recruited for something specific and wasn't needed until a few months ago."
"What happened a few months ago?"
Dennis shrugs, "We weren't told why Umbra moved up, and we certainly don't ask questions."
"Where is the meeting tonight?" Draco asks, wondering how the Death Eaters are meeting without being caught by the restrictions catching them.
Dennis sighs, "We meet in France now. You can easily apparate there from Kent."
Harry sighs deeply, choosing to ignore that new piece of information. "It's only been two hours since Simon left our suite; we need to find where he lives in case he's gone home to collect some belongings before disappearing."
Draco nods, "I suggest we leave." He doesn't want to discuss their next steps until they're out of Dennis' earshot.
On the street outside Dennis' flat, Draco takes Harry's arm, apparating them straight to the Ministry of Magic. "You have enough information to request Simon's details," he claims. "I'm going back to St. Mungos. My presence certainly wouldn't help your case."
"That is true," Harry smiles for the first time since their investigation began.
Harry races across the foyer to the Minister of Magic's personal lift, which he rides up to his office. When he bursts into the waiting room, he finds the Minister for Magic's office door propped open. The man's cloak has been thrown over a spare chair. His creased sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as his sleep-heavy eyes scan a document. Harry takes a moment to think that the Minister of Magic looks defeated. He's exhausted, and by the looks of it, the rumours were true; he never went home anymore.
"Sir," Harry calls as he steps into the Minister's office.
Minister Shacklebolt's eyes bolt up, then relaxes at finding Harry Potter standing on the opposite side of his desk, "Mr Potter, how was your birthday yesterday?" He questions.
"My son arrived last night, just after ten o'clock. At one o'clock this morning, we received a congratulations card from Heres and the Death Eaters," Harry informs the Minister.
Running his hands down his face, Shacklebolt sighs deeply, "Can I see this card?" He asks.
"Ginny destroyed it," Harry claims. "You know how hot-headed she can get. She took one look at it and set it on fire." He sighs. "I remember the words though, 'Dearest Potters, congratulations on the birth of your son, Albus Severus. We thank Cura for supporting you; yours sincerely, Heres.' We think Cura is the codename of the junior healer who helped deliver our son. I'm here for the address of Junior Healer Simon Salter. He was the one who delivered the letter, and he was the one who helped deliver my son."
"How sure are you that this junior healer is a Death Eater?" Minister Shacklebolt enquires.
"One-hundred per cent." Harry stares eyes of steel at the Minister. "And he would not shut up about his personal life when he was speaking to me. If we can get to him before he disappears, he'll tell us a lot more than Vale has." He assures.
As of yet, Alphard Vale had refused to speak during interrogations, knowing that the Ministry didn't have enough information on the Death Eater Movement to sentence him for long.
A hopeful smirk crosses Kingsley Shacklebolt's face as he nods, scribbles his permission on a piece of parchment and orders Harry to visit the archives for the junior healer's address.
"Thank you, Kingsley," Harry smiles.
"Take two aurors with you to the address," the Minister adds. "Do not do this alone."
In the Department of Registration's Archives, Harry Potter and the guard take five minutes to locate Simon Salter's file and address.
"I'll need a copy of this whole file for the case," Harry tells the guard.
"The permission doesn't specify that; you can take a copy of the address, though," the guard copies the current address parchment for him. Then, before Harry can do something stupid, the guard replaces the file like snatch the file and run.
Taking the address, Harry races up to the Auror Department, bursting into the room he had been banned from entering since he attended Hermione and Draco's anniversary dinner.
The Aurors on duty glance over when the door bang against the wall, surprised to find Harry Potter, their colleague, breathing heavily as he scans the room.
"Peters, is Blackwood on duty?" Harry asks, trusting only those two to help him in this situation. They had been the ones to arrest Alphard Vale after being told of his crimes. Others within the Auror Department were still unconvinced of their Head Auror's actions.
"Yes, he's just gone for coffee in the cafeteria," Peters stands, sensing the urgency.
"You two are coming with me; we've got a Death Eater to arrest," Harry informs him, so he knows to bring his and Blackwood's protective cloak and wand holsters.
Blackwood walks down the corridor, holding two takeaway cups of coffee when they catch up with him. Upon hearing what they were leaving to do, he dropped them to the side of the corridor, not caring about the spillage. He collects his cloak and holster from Peters, pulling them on as the three of them run to the disapparation floor.
Being more familiar with the muggle world, Harry takes their arms. He apparates them to Victoria Park, the nearest park to where Simon Salter lives in Leicester.
"What's the plan?" Blackwood asks as they pick up the pace, walking towards where Harry's wand was pointing to Salter's house.
"We knock and wait for any sign he's home, then we announce ourselves. If he runs, I'll give chase with one of you; the other searches the house in case there's anyone else there. If he's not home, we search his house for evidence to confirm he's a Death Eater." Harry explains, taking the lead on this mission.
They arrive at the address written in Simon Salter's file five minutes later. There aren't any lights on in the property, at least not from the front. Harry climbs the few steps up to the front door. Behind him, Peters stands at the gate, keeping an eye on the Muggle street, while Blackwood stands at the bottom of the steps, eyeing the windows for any lights or curious faces.
Harry knocks on the door with his fist, knowing that if anyone is inside, they definitely heard it, whether awake or asleep. The hall light switches on a few seconds later, and footsteps are heard walking towards the front door.
"Aurors, open up!" Harry calls.
Quickly, the lights turn off as a heavy thump sounds behind the door.
Harry steps aside as Blackwood casts 'Bombarda' on the door, sending it swinging open and indenting the wall behind it.
Inside, the kitchen door at the end of the hall is swinging close. Harry gives chase, jumps over a trunk lying in the hallway, and draws his wand as Blackwood follows, racing up the stairs in case Salter is misdirecting them with the kitchen door stunt. Peters enters the property, closing the door behind him to stop any curious Muggles investigating or calling the Muggle Aurors.
Entering the kitchen, Harry sees the back door wide open and runs out into an enclosed concrete yard. The six-foot-tall side gate is still closed, so he doesn't think Simon would have gone that way. Harry's about to head back inside, hoping Simon had thrown a spell at the kitchen door as he ran upstairs when he notices a bench against the far wall. Along the concrete are white drag marks made by the legs of the bench. Harry climbs up to inspect the other side of the wall. It's an alleyway, and a cloaked figure is running down towards the main road at the end of the alley.
"This way," Harry calls behind him as he lifts himself up and over the six-foot wall into the cobbled alleyway.
He's about one-hundred metres behind the figure, but Harry's a fast running, and he's gaining on him with every step. However, there's not enough alleyway left to catch up with him before the figure reaches the main road, where numerous cars are speeding past, despite the early hour. Harry knows there isn't much he would be able to do once on a Muggle street without causing panic. Slowing down slightly, Harry raises his wand, pointing it at the back of the figure, now only twenty metres from the main road, and casts 'stupefy'. The spell hits the cloaked figure square in the back, sending him falling like a tree to the ground.
As soon as he reaches the unconscious figure, Harry turns him over, hope in his chest when the man beneath him is wearing a Death Eater mask. Pinning him to the ground, Harry removes the Death Eater mask to reveal the bloodied face of Simon Salter. By the looks of it, he had broken his nose when he'd hit the cobbled alleyway, but it was definitely the junior healer.
"Is it him?" Peters asks, finally catching up after following Harry's instructions.
"Yes, it's him," Harry smiles, climbing off the Death Eater's body so Peters can arrest him. "Let's take him back to his house while we wait for backup."
More aurors would have to be called to search Salter's house for evidence about his Death Eater activities. However, they already have his mask as proof. They leave Simon's body lying on his living room rug and convene in the hallway, talking about what this means for Vale's case while waiting for the other aurors to arrive.
When there's a sharp knock at Salter's front door, Harry turns to happily greet the aurors. He has a wide grin on his face, still on an adrenaline rush from being back in the field after weeks of working on Vale's case. However, as the front door swings open, Harry comes face to face with a tall cloaked man wearing a white and gold ornate mask. As their eyes lock, the tall man steps back in shock, and Harry is just as surprised to be in the presence of the other. Before Harry can speak to stupefy the Death Eater in front of him, the man apparates away, leaving Harry too stunned to speak.
"Shit," Harry curses, slamming the door closed.
"What the fuck just happened?" Peter asks, pale after witnessing the whole scene, which must have lasted no longer than a few seconds.
"Salter was getting ready to leave," Harry gestures at the trunk. "He knew I would have put two and two together when I found the card after he left. He knew he wasn't safe and contacted the Death Eaters for protection."
Another knock at the door breaks their conversation. Harry opens it to find three more aurors, ready to comb through Simon Salter's house.
"Potter, Minister Shacklebolt has ordered you back to St. Mungos. He said Peters and Blackwood are to bring Salter's in, and if they need to you, they'll send someone for you." Auror Bevan informs Harry. "Congratulations, by the way," he adds with a smile.
Despite what Shacklebolt told Harry when he banned him from the Auror Department, Harry was loyal to his fellow aurors. He did consider them to be a band of brothers. It was good to know the good ones still thought of him the same way.
"Thanks, Bevan," Harry nods, turning to Peter and Blackwood. "Get the bastard into holding. I'll bring my report in later today. Keep me posted, yeah?"
"Of course, Potter," Peters pats Harry on the arm. "Five down, nineteen to go." He grins, jovial after catching another Death Eater.
"Still a long way to go," Harry sighs.
"It's is, but look how much we've achieved. We'll get there, and one day, they'll come a day when there are no more Death Eaters," Peters tries to assure Harry.
"When that day comes, I can retire happily," Harry jokingly laughs, knowing there will always be people like Heres. They will use the 'Death Eaters' name for their personal gain.
Arriving back at St. Mungo's, Harry finds Hermione and Draco outside the Potter's suite. Their heads close as they quietly talk to each other. Hermione's expression is serious as she listens to Draco. Finally, Hermione's eyes meet Harry's, and she sighs in relief as she meets him with a hug.
"How is Ginny?" He asks.
"Exhausted, as to be expected, but generally well, according to her healer," Hermione tells him, rejoining Draco outside the door.
"Why are you out here?" He questions.
"The boys are awake. We didn't want them overhearing what's going on." Draco explains.
Harry nods in agreement, entering his wife's suite, rushing to her side, where he kisses her cheek and then the top of Albus' head.
"Daddy!" James cheers, racing to hug his father.
Harry lifts him up for a tight hug, "Have you met Albus yet?"
"Yeah, Awbus, my buther," James proudly announces.
"That's right, James," Harry laughs. "Albus is your brother." He places his son on the edge of Ginny's bed.
"James, would you like some ice cream from the cafeteria with Scorpius and me?" Draco suggests, winking at Hermione.
James' eyes comically widen as he tells Draco, "I like ice-cweam."
"Let's go then!" Draco lifts Scorpius onto his hip and takes James' hand with his spare hand.
As soon as Draco and the two toddlers are out of the room, Ginny asks, "What happened? Draco told us everything Dennis had told you and that you were going to Kingsley for Simon's address."
"I did, and I got it. Although, I had to lie and say the card mentioned Cura as the one who helped deliver Albus since I couldn't exactly admit what it actually said. I also told Kingsley Ginny set it on fire in anger, so we're going to have to find somewhere to hide it." Harry explains.
"Easily done," Ginny raises her wand, which has been beside her since they fund the card in Albus' bassinet, and aims it at the card on the table. Suddenly, it bursts into flames. "Now, we didn't lie. I set it on fire, and I am angry." She smiles at her husband.
"I love you," he returns her smile, kissing her quickly. "I got the address, then took two aurors to Simon's address. He was waiting for another Death Eater to take him into hiding. We got him, though. He was wearing his mask, so there's no doubt Simon is Cura." Harry grins.
"Is he in holding?" Hermione asks.
"Yes, Peters and Blackwood were taking him in," Harry explains. "But, when we were waiting for backup to arrive, there was a knock at the door. I opened it, and another Death Eater was stood there. He managed to disapparate before I could do anything. His mask, though, was the most fancy I've seen. I don't think they've been at any of the uprisings."
"Any idea who it could have been?" Hermione questions.
"Yes, I think it was Dextra. Dennis told us he's Heres' right-hand man, the only one who's aware of Heres' identity. Simon must have called him when he realised I probably knew who he was, and Dextra was coming to take him to one of Heres' private properties for safety." Harry suggests.
"If Dextra is that important within the Movement, it will make sense he would have one of the fancier masks," Hermione agrees. "Could you describe him?"
Harry shrugs, "Tall, dark eyes, that's it."
"Not very useful," Ginny sighs.
"We'll get there. We've got five of them waiting for trial, and all we need is one of them to talk, which I think Simon will do, and with Dennis' information, we'll get more of them." Harry assures his wife.
Ginny nods, yawning with exhaustion.
"Do you want us to keep James for a few days?" Hermione asks.
"I don't know," Ginny bites her lip worriedly. "I want him with me, but if Harry is called away, I don't think I can protect both James and Albus if anyone tries anything."
"I'm not going anywhere," Harry says, gripping her hands.
"James is a toddler; there isn't much for him to do here or anywhere for him to sleep when he gets tired and grumpy," Hermione reminds them.
"That true," Ginny sighs. "Take him with you, but Harry will call you to check-in and let you know when we're home. Healer Rachel said we should be able to leave by the third of August."
"Two days, that's fine. We're used to having more children around the house. Although, I think Pansy and Ron made up because no one was at ours when we got home." Hermione tells them.
"Finally," Ginny rolls her eyes.
Hermione meets Draco with the boys in the cafeteria near the windows overlooking muggle London. However, neither James nor Scorpius seems to care about the beautiful city views, as their eyes are widely focused on their bowls. James shovels his vanilla ice cream in and around his mouth. Whereas Scorpius is sat on his father's lap, tiny fists gripping Draco's sleeve and pulling the spoon in his hand, with all this might, towards his open mouth.
"They'll never sleep now," Hermione mentions as she joins them, sitting beside James.
"That's the plan," Draco admits. "We keep them up until about six tonight, then they'll sleep all the way through to tomorrow morning."
"You think?" Hermione asks, not believing that for one moment.
"It's only thirteen more hours," Draco shrugs, taking a bite of ice cream.
"Ahh," Scorpius screams, glaring at his father for stealing his treat.
"Sorry, Scorpius," Draco feeds his son another spoonful while Hermione laughs.
The four of them stay in the cafeteria while the children finish their ice cream, and they end up catching the sunrise over the London skyline. It was a beautiful moment to enjoy after the birth of their friend's child and some good news with the arrest of Simon Salter. They felt like they could finally relax, at least for now.