"Okay, so how are we doing on The List? " Sirius inquired, a hidden twirl of his Wand causing a sound of thunder to echo through the room for extra drama.
The other adults rolled their eyes at his display, before Lucius cleared his throat to answer, "We have already agents assigned to the following tasks: investigate Delacour finances, keep tabs on Skeeter, obtain information from the school board, infiltrate Fudge's cabinet, discover identity of substitute Potion professor, discover identity of substitute Head of Slytherin, and discover identity of next Defense professor."
"And how many of these tasks are actually done ?"
Shifting uncomfortably the blonde let out a sigh, "None… most of the information is still rumors at this point, Fudge is being far more paranoid than before, and the Delacour's are rather connected in France, far more than we are."
Rubbing at her eyes, Narcissa let out a slight groan, "What about the other tasks? Why haven't those been assigned?"
Lucius snorted, "It was hard enough finding volunteers for the simple things much less the life-threatening ones."
"It doesn't matter, we know what has to be done." Sirius argued, earning him a glare from the Malfoy Lord.
"The general consensus is that Lupin be the one who hunts down…"
" No ." Snape growled from where he sat at the table, "The assignment was to bring Greyback in alive . If Remus goes there is guaranteed to be bloodshed."
Gazes drifted over to the man in question, who seemed to be struggling to hold in his own anger at the situation.
"Snape's right, besides why not just send him to speak with the Weasley's? Our Lord wanted to see how setting up their business was going and he ran in their circles if I remember right." Narcissa intoned, earning a nod of agreement from the others.
"That still leaves the murderer…" The Malfoy Lord muttered.
At that Bellatrix let out an annoyed sigh, "Oh for the love of… fine I'll go drag the arsehole back here by his tail. No wonder our Lord needed a vacation from all the whiny brats."
...
"I'm going to kill him."
Harry brought his head up a bit to look down at the blonde laying on his chest. She had mumbled into him, but still he had heard her clear as day.
"You know that I am not requiring you to do that Luna, I would never demand you kill anyone for me, especially not your father."
She shook her head, "I want to, I need to. After everything he did to me… there were so many times I should have died because of his own neglect, so many moments I should have not returned from one of his trips… and he didn't even notice . He doesn't care about me, maybe he never did."
Harry reached down and gently pulled her up so that he was face to face with the blonde, "We do care Luna, you know that right? I told you when we first arrived here that you will never be alone again and I intend to honor that. We love you, all of us do."
She nodded quickly, wiping away a few tears as she struggled to force the smile back onto her face, up until a hand gently caressed her cheek. "You don't need to pretend around me Luna, not here. Show me the real you, the one who isn't trying to hide from the pain and taunts, the one who doesn't shield herself behind the imaginary creatures. I want to see all of you, the light and the darkness."
"Then show me," she replied, "if we are going to spend the next four days without clothing then let's spend these days without pretending. I want to see everything you hide from us as well. No more pretending to be the perfect person. Show me your flaws and imperfections."
....
Rita Skeeter sat at her desk, long since being the only one still at the office. Her eyes continually attempted to read the parchment set in front of her, but it was hopeless. She simply could not concentrate on anything at this point.
Reaching out the woman took a hold of a bottle and tried to bring it to her lips, the alcohol within being one of the few sources of comfort she could manage. Unfortunately, her hand was trembling so badly that she could no longer keep a steady grip, and instead dropped it onto the floor where it shattered into hundreds of pieces.
"Bloody buggering shite…" she swore, before dropping her head onto the desk covered in paper. A second later she began to cry. Her life was falling apart all over again, and this time she couldn't escape it.
The woman's body was going through withdrawal, her mind barely functioning enough to get through the day, and her mood shifting so quickly even she couldn't predict it from one minute to the next. Something had to be done.
She needed to have that feeling again, the weightlessness and adrenaline that had burned through her veins a month prior.
She needed Harry Potter.
The problem was that he wasn't an easy person to contact, and even if she could reach him it would be a matter of convincing him to give her another dose of pure ecstasy. Perhaps she could simply offer him the use of her body?
No, that wouldn't work, her features were already beginning to diminish, and the boy had hundreds of women begging to share a bed with him even for a single night. She knew what he wanted, knew what would be required of her in order to receive what she needed in return.
With a defeated sigh she reached one trembling hand over to a quill, and slowly began to write out a request to meet him.
....
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