Family Ties

The following Monday the Divination class had its individual appraisal. This was something Trelawney inflicted on them so she could dramatically declare pain and misery in their futures, whatever they said or did. She looked through Dean's dream diary with shaking hands, because Umbridge was sitting near the window, her pink parchment and murderously long quill at the ready.

Trelawney frowned as she flicked through. "This dream, the one with the corridor and the shadowy figure, you have it often?"

"Yes, and I had it again last night."

Trelawney took a moment to read his most recent entry. "So you have identified the voice from behind you?"

"I think so... I think it's my mother."

"Hmm... dreams about chasing things we cannot see usually indicate something missing from your life."

Dean noticed a change in her voice, as if she had suddenly developed a very sore throat, her breathing was slightly laboured and her breath carried the scent of cooking sherry. "These dreams mean you are searching for something, and that it is close, within your reach. The presence of your mother would indicate it is a family matter."

Dean shook his head. There was nothing in his family bothering him. He loved his family; every mad, bouncy one of them. Trelawney coughed hugely before managing to say, "Very well Mr Thomas, your work is satisfactory. Please do some more research into those dreams over Christmas and we can talk about them in the New Year."

* ~ *

When Dean arrived at the Room for the next DA meeting, it was to find that Gryffindor had a full Quidditch team again. To his surprise, Ginny Weasley was the new Seeker. He would never have thought to look at her that she'd be into playing Quidditch, let alone be good enough to be Seeker. He glanced around surreptitiously, checking for Michael. When he was sure Michael wasn't there, he went over to talk to her. "Hey, Ginny. Congratulations!"

"Thanks, I've been wanting to get on the team, but I don't like Keeping so I didn't try out for that."

She smiled at him in a way that twisted his stomach into a knot. "I got that chocolate for dad. If he doesn't like it, I'm blaming you."

She grinned at him playfully, then looked over his shoulder as she heard the door open behind him, "I'll talk to you later Dean, thanks again."

His heart skipped even as it sank when she passed him, brushing against his arm and wafting an enticing flowery scent towards his nostrils. He breathed deeply as he heard Harry's voice say, "OK, I thought this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far..."

* ~ *

Dean awoke and sat bolt upright to the sounds of someone yelling. He heard Ron's voice, terrified, yelling, "Harry! HARRY!"

Dean stumbled out of bed, the sheets twisted around his legs, trying to make sense of what was going on through his sleep-fogged brain. Neville had found his way to Harry's bed and was asking Ron if he should go for help. Harry was gabbling hysterically about a dream about Ron's dad being attacked. He'd been sick and was obviously feverish. Neville bolted out of the room.

"What's going on?" whispered Seamus to Dean.

"I dunno, he's not well."

"So what's that rubbish he was spouting rubbish about Ron's dad?"

"He was dreaming Seamus, give the guy a break."

At that moment Neville reappeared with Professor McGonagall, who took both Harry and Ron to see Professor Dumbledore. Neville climbed back into bed and stared at the ceiling, white as a sheet and trembling. Dean lay down again, wondering why Professor McGonagall was taking Harry to Dumbledore rather than the hospital wing. After all, Harry had no way of knowing if Ron's dad was in danger...

* ~ *

The next day was the last day of school, so there were no classes and everyone was starting to pack to go home for the holidays. Dean got a note from his mother saying she'd pick him up at Kings Cross as normal. Dean had thrown everything into his trunk haphazardly. He was damned if he was going home for Christmas without going back to the Room of Requirement. "Where are Harry and Ron?" He asked Neville.

"They didn't come back last night; McGonagall says they've gone home for the holidays early. Ron's dad is ill."

Dean felt vaguely worried about that, he wouldn't wish losing a family member on his worst enemy, and Mr Weasley must have been very ill to pull his kids from school in the middle of the night. However, Dean left for the Room, leaving Seamus to pack a little more carefully than he'd done himself.

When he got into the Room he wasted no time in heading straight for the cabinets. Casting the Alohomora Charm to open the drawer with the case files, he lifted a handful files out and carried them to the desk and armchair, made himself comfortable and started to read.

The first case files dealt with minor stuff, raids on homes of captured Death Eaters, the tracing of confiscated Dark objects and one case of a wizard who'd sold a cursed necklace to a Muggle woman, resulting in her death. Then he found a case file documenting the first murder case involving Jack Webster. Inside were crime scene photos; not moving because the pictures were all of inanimate objects and in some cases, poor Alice Derring's dead body.

The report indicated that the attack on Alice had gone on for hours, maybe even days. In one picture, Gary was using his wand to cast what looked a lot like UV light over the bedside table, near one lifeless hand. There was a white glowing handprint there; whoever had done this had not been careful.

One picture stood out to Dean - a picture of the floor beside the bed, where the letters JW were burned into the floor, flashing like they were full of hot coals. There was also a picture of the building from the outside, clearly showing the glowing Dark Mark glimmering sickly above the roof. The report was thorough, even listing the Muggles who'd seen the Dark Mark and required Memory Charms. This file was dated October twelfth 1976.

The label on the outside stated that this case was part of an ongoing investigation headed up by Gideon Prewett and Gary Heaton, and that this was file number one of eight in murder investigations, and there were several dozen 'permanent damage to mind and body' case files to be found.

Dean went back to the filing cabinet to exchange these files for the relevant murder cases. When he came back with six thick folders, he was sagging under the weight. Clearly, these cases were well documented.

The case of Janine Bodley twisted his heart horribly. He felt genuinely awful for the parents of this poor girl, who had died because her father refused to overlook the work of certain Death Eaters. He had been Gary and Gideon's boss.

Dean flicked through the files, trying desperately to find anything that would tell him why Gary's face was so familiar to him, then one of the crime scene photos from the last murder before Gary's seemed to jump out at him. It was a mirror, or a Foe Glass; Dean couldn't tell which because the surface was obscured by a thick green mist. In this mist, blurry but perfectly recognisable, was a message.

GH

I will find you

I will find them

Join us and you can all live

JW

As usual, the JW shimmered with its own red and gold light. Dean felt a chill and shivered unexpectedly. He must have been married by this time, sounds like he had a kid and all.

Dean felt he knew enough about Gary by now to know that he would die before giving into the pressure. I wonder what happened to his family though?

The case cover was dated November thirtieth 1979. Dean glanced at his watch, it was ten o'clock, the train left at one. I've still got time. He went back to the cabinet to get the last two folders.

He was dreading this one, the case of Gary's own murder. The crime scene photos raised an unexpected lump in his throat. The man Dean felt he had come to know, sprawled out on the ground, the intelligence and kindness that had shone in his eyes was gone. The Healers report had phrases that burned themselves into his memory... extensive bruising... all the ribs broken... broken jaw... broken fingers... fingernails missing... broken bones in the feet... burn marks on face and neck...

It was horrific. Webster hadn't just killed him, he'd tortured him. Probably to get the location of his family out of him.

Dean had no doubt that Gary hadn't given it to him. There was a Gina Heaton listed as the next of kin, but recorded as his sister...

But he must have been married, I've seen the ring... and that message threatened someone...

Dean looked at the last file, the file about Webster himself, the life sentence in Azkaban, the other crimes they'd gleaned through a top Ministry Legillimens. He didn't want to read it, so he put it back, and moved on to the next drawer, the one marked 'personal life'.

In here, Dean found more evidence of Gary's love of Astronomy, and skill at Divination. There were magazine articles he'd written about the discovery of new stars; and he'd even done the astrology column in Witch Weekly for a few months, apparently for fun.

Next he found what he'd been looking for: a marriage certificate, but surprisingly it was not like Dean expected - a magical union contract, it was a certificate like the one his mum and dad had, a Muggle one. He must have married a Muggle woman, that would explain the secrecy; that's a capital crime to the Death Eaters.

Dean looked down at Gary's messy signature, and then saw something that took his breath away.

It was his own mother's signature, below Gary's, there in black and white. The date on the certificate was December fourteenth 1979. Dean began to shake, he felt dizzy and heard a dull roaring in his ears. He stumbled over to the armchair where he collapsed in shock. His head was swimming, his eyes rolled to the side and he saw it... beneath the very pile of newspapers Seamus had been reading the last time - a photo album.

Dean staggered to his feet and opened it. It was big and heavy, and had photographs that must have been taken from when Gary had started at Hogwarts; he looked younger than Dean was now. He flipped through the pages quickly, passing his Hogwarts Graduation, his Auror Graduation and then he saw it, a picture that seemed to make his very soul plunge into his shoes.

A wedding photo. His mother was smiling in a way that made Dean's heart ache, like there'd never been anyone as happy as her. There was Gary; looking at her like she was infinitely precious, something he didn't deserve but trusted.

Dean's legs failed him and he sank onto the floor. He didn't know how long he sat there, holding the album in loose hands staring at the faces in the picture; they were all that was clear and sharp in his swimming vision. He didn't even hear the door open and close. "Dean? What's wrong?"

Dean snapped back to his senses. Realising he'd been crying, he scrubbed furiously at his face before he looked up at Seamus. "You've been in here for hours; the train leaves soon, so I thought I'd better come see... what happened?!"

"He's my dad, Seamus. Gary Heaton is my father."