Chapter 25
The blood was pooling rapidly under the soldier's body, leaking from the grizzly bullet wound on his back.
Harry could vaguely hear Sergei and Alex swearing up a storm, and the girl they'd come to rescue working herself into hysterics despite her barely conscious state. Had he cared, he might have been impressed by that. Or suspicious.
Harry grunted in pain, curling around his injured side even as he scooted over to the fallen man.
"Captain," he wheezed, leaning over the man, trying not to lean any weight on him and not succeeding as well as he might have wished.
He glanced up, seeing Sergei take charge of Mr South's niece, and Alex on the phone to summon Marcel. He looked back down, and knew that it was too late, even with magic there was no way that the Healer could make it in time, and using a portkey would kill him even faster.
"Tell," Captain choked, coughing up blood. "Family… love… them." His chest rattled wetly as he gasped for air that wouldn't come.
Harry nodded sombrely. "I'll tell them, you have my word. Thank you for protecting me." In a rare display of affection, Harry gently stroked the man's hair from his forehead, leaving a bloody streak across the clammy skin.
Captain smiled, his eyes already slightly glassy from the blood loss. "Good… kid." He wheezed, trying to find the breath to say what was on his mind. "Proud… you… like… mine."
Harry pressed his lips together tightly as Captain's body shuddered and relaxed, seconds before Marcel arrived with a loud snap of apparition. Reaching up and ignoring the jolt of fire through his ribs at the movement, Vahan gently closed Captain's eyes for the last time.
Harry sat in the office at The Haunt, sipping a cup of tea that Marcel had spiked with a gentle muscle relaxant and painkiller. Harry and his Hounds had been worked over thoroughly, and Marcel had nearly had a fit when he got them all back to the infirmary and scanned the damage. Mr South's niece had been sedated, and was being kept in a discrete corner away from prying eyes until Vahan was ready to take her back to her uncle.
Harry had decided to inform the Andrews of what had occurred before attending to his temporary employer though. His people came first, after all. Hearing a knock on the door, he waved the three Andrews in and quietly invited them to take a seat.
"What's going on, Harry?" Mama Andrews asked quietly, seeing the serious look on the normally friendly boy's face.
Harry rubbed a hand over his newly healed face, wincing slightly as he brushed his freshly repaired and still tender nose. Stalling slightly, he called Jinky, and requested some tea for the Andrews.
Jinky nodded, and taking note of the tension in the room, made an executive decision to spike it with calming draught.
Once everyone had been provided with the laced tea and taken a few nervous sips, Harry took a deep breath.
"Today, Captain was supposed to meet the Hounds and I at a place that my father was considering buying. I was going to be meeting Father there, so we'd asked him to come for added security, and to get a look at the place since he looked after security for the muggle properties."
Mama Andrews sat her tea cup down on it saucer, the china clattering slightly as her hands shook.
"Please tell me you aren't saying what I think you're saying," she whimpered, closing her eyes in despair at the grim expression on the boy opposite her.
"Mum?" Greg asked, taking her hand and glancing worriedly between her and Harry.
"He's dead, isn't he." Daniel's voice was flat, the statement hanging unnaturally in the silence of the office.
Mama Andrews covered her mouth, trying to stifle a sob.
"I'm very sorry," Harry offered softly. "Someone took a shot at us, and Captain jumped in front of the bullet to protect me. He died before Marcel could get there to help. He asked me to tell you that he loved you all very much."
Greg pulled his distraught mother closer, offering a hand to his little brother to pull him into their group huddle.
Daniel ignored the offer, glaring furiously at Harry. "So, my dad is dead because of you?"
Harry watched the younger boy steadily, but didn't refute the claim.
"Daniel," Greg called, his voice cracking slightly from grief. He grabbed his brother's hand and tugged him until he was settled on Mama Andrews lap, held closely between them.
Harry rose and quietly exited the room, closing the door behind him as he left the family to their grief.
Sighing heavily, and wincing at the twinge of pain from his strapped and still healing ribs, Harry rested his forehead against the wall for a moment, willing away his own sorrow. He couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt over the situation. The entire job had been a mess; poorly managed, poorly planned. He rubbed his face again, careful to avoid his nose this time.
He had no idea what the Andrews would do about this situation. It was entirely possible that they would leave and never speak to him again, in which case he'd have to have Alex or Sergei either modify their memories or dispose of them entirely. He frowned, not entirely happy with that idea. Of course it was equally possible that they would continue working with him as they always had, in which case he would add a form of widows pension to help account for the loss of income for the family. Had Captain died doing something stupid he wouldn't have bothered, but the man had died on duty, through a stupid fuck up of Vahan's. Compensating his family and paying for the funeral was the least he could do.
Waving to Alex at the door of the infirmary to show he was ready, he had a quiet word with Marcel about the Andrews in the office, then followed the Hounds and the still sedated girl into the garage. Marcel had healed the worst of her injuries, but she still looked a little rough.
Placing her gently in the car, they piled in and pulled out to the street. Their sleek black limousine sped smoothly down the quiet street under Sergei's steady hand, while Alex sat with Harry and the unconscious girl in the back.
Harry could feel Alex eyeing him, but ignored him completely. He didn't feel like talking, or going over any business his ever efficient Hound might have brought with them. He settled back into the comfortable leather seats with a sigh, closing his eyes and letting his head drop back. He was aching and tired, and wanted nothing more than to go to bed and sleep for a few hours. Or days. He imagined his Hounds weren't fairing much better. Marcel had grudgingly let them go, only the fact that he would be beaten bloody if he tried to interfere with business by enforcing the bedrest he claimed they needed staying his hand.
"Sir?" Alex asked quietly, unusually tentative.
Harry grunted in reply, not bothering to open his eyes.
"What's the plan when we get to Mr South's?"
Taking a deep breath, Harry let it out gradually and forced himself to open his eyes. He glanced at the intercom to make sure Sergei could hear the conversation, then turned to Alex.
"Hopefully just a quick drop off, though Mr South may want to chat a bit. Official story is that while we lost one of our team to a sniper, the rest of us got in and out without a scratch. There will be no mention of how many of us were on that team. We stopped long enough to get her treated, and then we bundled her in the car and dropped her back to him as agreed. We'll give him a copy of her medical report, and hopefully that will be that."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Do you think it will be?"
Harry quirked a tired smirk. "Probably not. Mr South will probably ask for a debrief from us with as much detail as possible. Something that I'm disinclined to agree to, and not just because I'm hellishly tired. I'd like to keep as much of our methods and the like quiet; add to the mystery a bit. He'll probably also ply us with drinks, which Marcel specifically ordered us not to have. Apparently alcohol doesn't go well with the potions we were given."
"So we get out as soon as we can manage without being rude, and give as few details as possible?"
Harry nodded and settled back in his seat again. "Pretty much. Our actions aren't secret, so don't get too hung up on it, I just want to keep people guessing about what we're capable of. Which is why I insisted on getting cleaned up before we dropped her back."
Alex grinned in response. "Unscathed from a situation everyone else died attempting? Nice spin."
Harry flashed a grin. "Thank you. I thought so."
"What about the Andrews?"
Harry sobered. "We'll discuss it later, after we've rested. I've got a few ideas, but it depends in large part what they choose to do."
Nodding, Alex took the hint and settled back as well, both of them resting as much as they could for the remainder of the trip.
The following weeks were stressful as Harry began handing over the daily running of his businesses to Sergei and Alex, as well as spending as much time as possible with Connor and the other kids. He hated that he would have to be away for so long, a sentiment that his charges agreed with wholeheartedly.
The loss of Captain weighed heavily on them all, and Harry did his best to support his kids even as he juggled the rest of his tasks. Greg had stepped up, taking over as much of his father's role as he could; something that impressed Harry enough to order his Hounds to give him a crash course in everything they could cram into him. As a result, the now twenty year old was fast on the way to becoming as invaluable as his father before him, if not more so.
Mama Andrews poured herself into the kids in an effort to distract herself from her grief. The children found themselves receiving more lessons, as well as being showered with affection, something that they were gradually getting used to but still found uncomfortable.
The only real problem was Daniel. He clung to his belief that Harry was to blame for his father's death, and refused to be dissuaded. Harry's silence on the issue frustrated the rest of the adults. The tension that hovered around the youngest Andrews when Harry was in sight was enough to make a person flee the room, and everyone wondered how much more the simmering child could take before he blew up.
Things finally came to a head a week before Harry's birthday.
Harry was having a teddy bear's tea party with Elise on the floor on the playroom, chatting quietly with the youngest girl about the merits of pink over purple and enjoying the downtime. Connor, Mark, Lewis, and Lizzie stared stonily at each other over their cards, practicing their poker techniques over wagered chores. Sophie and Brian were tucked into a corner, giggling as they plotted their next prank. Harry had called for a day off from training since the kids had all done very well in their end of year school tests. Apparently all of them were fighting for top spot in their respective classes. Harry was thrilled at the effort they were putting in, and had made his approval clear, rewarding the kids with downtime, a small shopping trip, and personal gifts all 'round.
He looked up when Sergei stuck his head into the room, and sobered at the man's serious expression. Excusing himself, he exchanged a look with Connor who nodded at being left to keep an eye on the other kids.
"What's happened?" Harry asked as he slipped from the room and followed Sergei out of earshot.
"It's Daniel. He's…" The Russian trailed off, looking pained. "I'm so sorry Boss, we should have seen it coming."
"Dead?" Harry asked calmly, even as he settled into a chair opposite Alice.
Sergei shook his head. "Not quite, but he gave it a fucking good try."
Alice served them some tea, frowning prettily. "What happened?"
The hulking mercenary slumped slightly, taking a sip from the delicate white china teacup Alice had handed him. He set it gently back on its saucer and rubbed a hand over his face.
"From what Alex told me, he hasn't been handling his dad's death well. We all knew that of course, and that he still blames Harry for Captain's death. Apparently he was a bit more unstable than we'd thought, and in hindsight, having him around Harry in such a state was probably making it worse."
Harry grunted slightly in irritation, encouraging Sergei to get to the point.
"He got into Marcel's potions, swallowed everything he could get his hands on, then climbed onto the roof and jumped off. He's in the infirmary at the moment, but he's not in good shape. Marcel's working as best he can, and he's stable, but we don't know what lingering damage there might be yet, if any."
Harry sipped his tea, fighting to control his annoyance at the situation. "And Mama Andrews?"
"Not doing so well. She blames herself for not focusing on him more. I'll be honest, Boss, I think once Daniel is released from the infirmary, we're going to lose them. We should start looking for someone to take care of the Ghosts now, since Marcel won't be happy about playing babysitter any longer than strictly necessary."
Nodding, Harry drained the last of his tea.
"Worst case scenario, we'll get the Goblins to make another golem. It would probably be more secure anyway."
Sergei placed his cup on Alice's desk, ignoring her faint scowl, and scratched his chin. "You're right. Want me to get your father to organise it?"
Harry smiled slightly. "I'd appreciate it. Setting him up was the best decision I've made yet I think. And not just because I can offload most of my paperwork onto him."
Sergei chuckled. "I'll bet. It certainly freed up a massive chunk of your time. I've been meaning to ask, how are your language studies going?"
Rolling his eyes, Harry pouted. "I've gotten the basics of Mandarin and Japanese, I'm fair at conversational Russian and German, and relatively fluent at Latin and French."
Sergei's eyebrow twitched up. "Impressive. I guess that's one of the benefits of being a super brain, then!"
"I suppose. Picking up a new language is easy enough once you understand the speech patterns. After that it's just a matter of memorising the words and their contexts."
"Still, that's an impressive achievement, Sir," Alice interjected quietly. "Especially since you started teaching yourself and have only had a bit of help polishing it in the last few years. However I think we've strayed from the original topic. What do you want to do about the Andrews?"
Shifting in his seat, Harry thought for a moment. "Does Greg know yet?"
Sergei nodded. "He was taken over as soon as he got back from the run he was on. I don't know what he'll choose to do, to be honest."
"Alright. Alice, I'll leave you to look after the kids, Sergei and I are going to play the concerned friends and see what's what. I'll be by to collect Connor once we're done there."
The trip over to The Haunt was mercifully short, and Harry took the time to work himself into the right state of mind. It wouldn't do to show his irritation during such a volatile situation, and not just because Daniel and Mama Andrews still had no idea who and what Harry really was. It was amazing what people ignored when they didn't want to see something unpalatable, he mused. Honestly, this whole thing with Daniel might be a blessing after all. He could get the little annoyance out of his house and away from the potentially damaging information he might stumble over, and if he got a golem to replace Mama Andrews that would be another potential leak plugged. The only sticking point was Greg; he really was too valuable to lose.
Noting that they were pulling into the garage, Harry scrubbed his face a few times and ruffled his hair, then scrambled from the car with a worried look and hurried into the infirmary with a stoic Sergei in tow.
"How is he?" He asked, striding over to where Mama Andrews sat next to Daniels bed, holding the unconscious boy's hand.
Mama Andrews stood with a sniffle and wrapped her arms around Harry, hugging him tightly. "Oh, Harry, thank you for coming, love." She sniffled again, wiping her eyes with a soggy tissue. "Marcel says he'll be alright, that he won't have any lingering issues, physically that is. Emotionally, well, we'll have to wait and see." She turned to look at her sleeping son, biting her lip anxiously. "I don't know what to do to help him. He's so angry, so hurt…"
Harry rested a hand lightly on her arm. "Whatever you need, let me know and we'll work it out. I'll help in any way I can, and I know Father will too."
Mama Andrews gave him a watery smile and patted the hand on her arm fondly. "Thank you. You're a good friend to us."
Harry smiled slightly, and turned to Greg, walking over to join him in propping up the wall across the room from the occupied bed. "You doing ok?" He asked softly.
Greg shrugged, his arms folded tightly across his chest. "Got a job for me?"
Harry shook his head. "No. Focus on your family; you're needed here right now."
Greg pursed his lips, nodding slightly. "Daniel isn't going to let this go, you know that, right?"
Nodding, Harry sighed. "Yeah. I'm thinking it might be better for him to be away from all of this, have his family back to himself again. He isn't doing well here; I don't think he ever really did."
"Want me to gently encourage them to go?"
"That depends. What would you want to do? Would you go with them?"
Greg frowned slightly and tilted his head to eye the boy next to him. "Would you actually let me go if that's what I chose?"
Harry's lips pursed in a moue of distaste. "Yes, if that's what you want. You've proven yourself capable of keeping your mouth shut, and as long as you continued to do that I see no reason to prevent you leaving. I'd really rather not though. I have plans for you."
Greg looked at him in unadulterated shock. "You'd really let me leave if that's what I wanted?"
Harry rolled his eyes slightly, his irritation rising. "I dislike repeating myself, Greg. There are only a small handful of people in my organisation that I would let leave without X-ing them out. Annoy me too much and I'll remove you from that list."
Greg stifled a grin, and turned back to observing his mother and brother. "Yes, sir. But it's irrelevant at this point anyway. I agree that that Mum and Daniel need to be elsewhere, but no matter what they decide, I'm staying with you."
Harry's lips twitched into a pleased smile, which he promptly smothered before anyone could see it. "I'm glad to hear that. See what you can do about your mum and Daniel, but don't force the issue. Let them think it was their idea, for Daniel's mental and emotional health or something. I'll make sure they're suitably cared for financially either way."
Pushing himself off the wall, Harry walked back to Mama Andrews, and after a quiet word of sympathy, headed back to The Nest. He had a tea party to finish.
Dumbledore smiled to himself as he sucked on a lemon drop. Everything was in place for Harry's arrival in the next school year. All he could do now was wait.
He pondered what Harry would be like, and how much his personality would need to be tweaked to mould him into what he needed to be. If the Dursley's had done their job's properly, he should be malleable enough that a few comments dropped at the correct time would steer him onto the right path without the need for the suggestibility and control potions he had stored away just in case. He really didn't want to use them on the boy, there were far too many potential ways for it to be detected or disrupted. No, a more subtle approach would prove the most effective, he was certain.