You Must Remember This

As the other patrons caught sight of the Ministry's law enforcement team, conversation shifted to a low murmur. A few people raised menus or copies of The Daily Prophet in front of their faces, conspicuously trying to look inconspicuous. A seedy-looking gentleman in the back of the room rose to his feet, slipped quietly through the back door into the kitchens, and did not return.

"Fleur DeLacour!" Ron exclaimed, pulling off his gloves and giving her a charming smile as he bent to kiss her hand. "How wonderful to see you! You look breathtaking, as always."

She favoured him with her trademark coy glance, but Harry didn't miss the hint of tension that had crept into the line of her body, or the abrupt shuttering of her face into an artfully blank expression. Judging by Ron's devilish grin, he hadn't missed it either.

Harry suddenly realised that he'd tucked the bundle she'd given him into the inner pocket of his cloak when he'd seen the Aurors entering the room. He wasn't sure why, except that he really wanted to find out what Fleur was up to on his own. As he took Ron's outstretched hand in greeting, he smiled warmly, but gave away nothing.

"Harry! You're looking well!"

"Ron! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We've had some interesting news from the French Ministry, and I think that Miss DeLacour might be able to help us in our investigation. It seems that a very precious object has recently been stolen from their national museum. The clever thieves were able to enchant the night watchman into lowering the wards so they could get in and get out without being detected."

Harry watched Fleur closely as Ron spoke, but she maintained a steely composure, studying her nails and sipping nonchalantly at her wine.

"Unfortunately, the poor fellow seemed to have been so addled by the spell that he wandered into a restricted area and was killed - rather messily, I'm afraid. So now we have not only a theft on our hands, but a murder as well."

At that, Harry saw Fleur's expression change to one of mild concern and her voice quavered slightly as she spoke. "How awful! The poor man! But I cannot imagine what any of this has to do with me. I'm sure I don't know anyone who works in a museum."

"Now that's where things get really interesting. You see, the area that the unfortunate guard wandered in to, happened to contain a Dyonesian Crystal, used in medieval times to hold the souls of the dead. The museum curator was able to not only release the spirit of the guard, but also to question him before the poor fellow passed onward to the next realm. While the description he gave of the enchantress - a beautiful young woman with long silver hair - didn't specifically fit any one person, the description of her companion was detailed enough that the French Aurors were able to find and arrest him. With the help of veritaserum, he kindly revealed not only the identity of his partner, but that she was on her way to a resort in Britain to meet with their buyer. Imagine my delight at finding you here just when we were coming to tell Harry to be on the lookout for you. I appreciate your saving us the trouble of a more exhaustive search."

He nodded, and two Aurors stepped forward from either side to grasp Fleur's arms just above the elbow. "No!" she said sharply, as they pulled her up out of the chair. Around the room, the murmuring crowd grew quieter, and more heads began to turn toward them. "There has been some mistake. I don't know anything about this robbery you speak of. I have been here, on holiday, all this past week." She looked at Harry with pleading eyes.

Harry stood motionless, hands clasped at his waist. He said nothing.

A third Auror stepped forward and ran her hands over Fleur's body, checking inside her clothes, feeling along her legs and ankles. She removed Fleur's wand from the pocket of her cloak and handed it to the fourth Auror. When finished, she stepped back with a quick shake of her head. "Nothing else," she said. Ron nodded again, and the Aurors moved to take Fleur away. "No!" she cried, and began to struggle, trying to pull her arms free, but the Aurors were well trained and too strong for her. "I can't go to that - that place! Don't take me away! Help me, Harry! Harry!" She threw him one last desperate glance over her shoulder as they dragged her from the room. Through a curtain of flying silver hair, Harry saw a look of desperation etched on her face. The door closed firmly behind them with a loud click that resonated through the now silent room.

Then, just as abruptly, conversation resumed as if nothing had happened. Harry heard the clink of ice in glasses and the clatter of silverware on plates as the diners resumed their meals. The band, finished with their break, picked up their instruments and began to play The Carol of the Bells softly in the background.

Ron turned to him with a sheepish look. "Sorry about that," he said. "It would have gone easier if she'd been outside the walls, and we could have used a binding spell instead of doing things the old-fashioned way. Your anti-Apparation and anti-violence wards may be useful for protecting your business interests, but they make it damned hard to properly arrest anyone."

Harry managed a small laugh. "I guess it's lucky that we don't have much need of arrests around here, then. So, Ron, this - thing, that they say she stole - what is it?"

Ron leaned a little closer. "That's a good question. They called it a Key, but what it opens, no one's mentioned - only that this Key is quite old and extremely valuable. Whoever her buyer is must have access to a fortune. Knowing the calibre of her usual clientele, I'd wager it's no one reputable."

"You mean - could it be Death Eaters?" Harry kept his voice low. "Coming back, after all this time? Do you think she's a sympathiser?"

"I don't know," Ron sighed. "I'm more inclined to say she's an opportunist. But your guess is as good as mine. The French Aurors said they've been trying to catch her for four years. She's a very good thief, specialising in difficult jobs. It's no accident that poor fellow at the museum got killed, I'll wager - she's tops at covering her tracks. But they'll take care of her interrogation at Azkaban, and she'll be held there until she can be taken back to France for trial. We'll know where that Key is soon enough, and once we have it in our hands I'll feel a lot better."

A wave of cold panic washed over Harry. How could he be so stupid! They would certainly use veritaserum on her, and she'd tell them she'd given him the Key thing. He put his hand over his chest and felt the hard lump tucked into the pocket of his robe. Best to turn it over to Ron now, before -

His thought was abruptly interrupted when one of the Aurors rushed back into the room, breathless and flushed. "This can't be good," Ron muttered, as she hurried over to them.

"Sir, I'm afraid - I have some bad news." She gasped for breath, then continued. "The suspect - when we got outside - I don't know, maybe she was stronger than she looked - she got loose somehow, grabbed my wand, and ran. She was trying to make it through the gate. If she'd got out, she'd have Apparated and we'd never have found her again. Hansen tried to stupefy her before she got all the way over the bridge - I think he thought she'd fall forward under her own momentum, but she must have tried to dodge at the last second and she went sideways. She fell into the water after it hit her and -" she looked down at her feet. "I'm afraid there was nothing we could do. By the time we pulled her out, she'd drowned. She's dead, Sir."

Harry was too stunned to know if he was saddened or relieved.

"I see," Ron said in a clipped tone. "Well, that's the end of that. Take the body away and see to the notification of next of kin, if you can find any. We'll do the paperwork when I get back to the office."

"Yes, Sir."

Ron sighed heavily. "Bugger. There goes my only lead. Her hired muscle didn't have any other information that was useful. I've still got to find the person who financed her, and get them into custody before they get what they're coming here for. If she didn't have the Key on her, she's probably got it stashed around here somewhere." He turned to Harry. "I'm going to need your permission to search the grounds, if you don't mind, and I may need to question some of your staff and the other guests. I'll try to be as discreet as I can. I understand you're running a business here, I won't turn it into a circus."

The cheerfulness was long gone from Ron's face, and Harry noticed the tired lines around his friend's eyes and mouth. He felt a momentary pang of regret that they weren't as close as they'd been in their younger days ... that the progression of time and his own tendency toward isolation had put some distance between himself and his oldest friend. He would've liked to have been able to tell Ron that he had the mysterious Key safely in hand and everything was under control, to enlist his help along with Hermione's, just like in the old days. But Harry had a gut feeling there was more to this whole thing than anyone was letting on, and he meant to find out what before doing anything that might put anyone else in danger. If the Death Eaters really were resurfacing then Harry would be one of their primary targets. He felt much safer with the object of their pursuit in his own custody. Involving the oft-inept Ministry could bungle the whole thing, and he could always owl Ron later if it looked like he was going to need help. One lesson Harry had never forgotten from his youth was that the only person he could always truly count on was himself. He didn't know if Ron would put their long time friendship above his duty as Chief Auror, and he wasn't in the mood to test that just yet.

Harry's arm felt like a lead weight as he lifted it around Ron's shoulders and gave the other man what he hoped felt like an affectionate squeeze. "Of course, Ron, anything you need. I'll make sure that Remus gets everything together for you." He waved Karl over again. "Please find Mr. Lupin - he's probably in the casino - and tell him that Chief Weasley and I will be waiting for him in his office, in ten minutes."

"Why ten minutes?" Ron said, as Harry steered him toward the door.

"Because that gives us just enough time for a good stiff drink. Unless you're on duty," he added.

Ron made a show of checking the time. "Look at that, would you. I'm officially off the clock."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The freezing rain came down hard, falling in slanting sheets and making it difficult to see very far, but a brief flash of magic told Gerry, the Phoenix's security guard, that someone had just Apparated to the front gates of the resort. The tall man held a large black umbrella over his head as he stepped up to the window of the warm, dry guardhouse and presented Gerry with a stamped identification parchment. Gerry studied it carefully, then looked at the man's face under the hood of the heavy cloak, and felt his stomach flip over in recognition. Calmly, giving nothing away, Gerry handed the papers back and pointed his wand at the large, iron gate. He whispered the words that released the security spell. It creaked open slowly, and the man hurried up the cobblestone drive toward the main entrance of the castle.

Gerry watched him disappear into the rain, his mouth pressed into a thin line, then turned to the fireplace and threw a small pinch of green powder into the flames.

"Rico," he said, when the floating head of the resort's security captain appeared. "You'd better get Mr. Potter."