Author's Note: A huge thanks to the moderator who accepted the last two chapters so quickly (*hands a bouquet of roses to Chelsea*). Also, thanks to my beta, Sarah, who read this whole story for me in such a short time. You rock! :)
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Though thou seest me not pass by,
Thou shalt feel me with thine eye
As a thing that, though unseen,
Must be near thee, and hath been;
And when in that secret dread
Thou hast turn’d around thy head,
Thous shalt marvel I am not
As thy shadow on the spot,
And the power which thou dost feel
Shall be what thou must conceal.
Mad-Eye Moody leaned on the edge of Arthur Weasley’s desk. “We’ll find Potter soon enough. If Hardwick’s on the case, she should find him any day now.”
“Ursula Hardwick? I’ve heard that name somewhere before,” Arthur mused, digging through the filing cabinet. “Ah, here we go.” He pulled out a heavy file made of blue cardboard, and opened it on his desk. “I must say, she’s had quite the career. Not very old, either. When were you two partners?”
“Just after she finished Auror training. Same age as Tonks, in her twenties. I thought she was daft, for a while. Uses really odd tactics. They work, but they’re still odd.”
Arthur nodded, reading a page in the file. “What’s she been up to in the past while? Says here she quit working for the Ministry.”
“You know, I haven’t a clue,” Moody replied, peering at the document. “None of the other Aurors took her all that seriously, as I remember. She was a Slytherin, so that didn’t sit well with them, and she used to get teased about her unusual methods. They called her “Dusty” Hardwick, since she used to dust for fingerprints, you know, like the Muggles do. Still, she did her job. One day, though, she just walked in, handed in her resignation, and walked out without another word.”
“Can we trust her to find Harry?” Arthur inquired.
In answer to his question, there was a loud ‘crack’ and a letter dropped out of midair onto the desk. Arthur hurriedly opened it, and saw that it contained only one line of writing.
Found Potter. Keeping an eye on him for now. -U.H.
“That’s it? Why didn’t she tell us where he is, or where she is?” Arthur asked, feeling slightly uneasy.
Moody frowned as his normal eye scanned the parchment. “Strange. Normally she’d tell us a bit more than that. Unless, of course, someone else is following them and she can’t reveal their whereabouts.”
“But you would think“"
”I know, it’s a bit fishy. I’ll get a few people to look into it, maybe Kingsley and Tonks are up for the job. We’ll have to make up some kind of reason for ‘em to leave the Ministry, though. Scrimgeour can’t know we’re looking for Potter.”
“Just say that you’re trying to find Hardwick based on suspicions of her being a Death Eater,” Arthur suggested, sighing at the fact that it was so easy to accuse people nowadays.
“That’ll work. She’d be right offended if someone accused her of that, though. Went to school with a bunch of future Death Eaters; Malfoy, the Lestranges, and Snape. She hated ‘em all except Snape, he used to be a friend of hers.”
“What happened? He’s never mentioned her at all.”
“They fought about something, and I don’t think they’ve spoken to each other since school. I tried askin’ him about her once, he went berserk and told me never to ask him again.”
***
There was a loud ‘crack’ and Severus Snape appeared in front of the last house on Spinner’s End. Something seemed odd to him; had there been a burglar? He slowly unlocked the door and entered, taking care not to make a sound. He had an ominous feeling that someone had been inside his house recently, an uninvited guest.
It was the first time he had returned to the house in months, and everything was exactly as he had left it. The wine glasses from Bellatrix and Narcissa’s visit were still sitting on the side table, encrusted with the remains of the wine. Worthless little rat, didn’t even bother to wash the dishes, he thought with a sneer, taking the glasses to the kitchen. He noticed the empty wine bottle on the table, and looked at it more closely. Severus distinctly remembered knocking it over during an argument with Wormtail, but the bottle stood upright with a few dusty smudges on it. He picked up the bottle, and his eyes widened. She was here, he thought, his mind racing as he saw his own powdered fingerprints on the bottle.
Within seconds, Severus had stormed out of the house and Disapparated, knowing that if his suspicions proved correct, he would not be the only one in danger.
***
At the Burrow, Remus and Tonks were close to tearing their hair out in exasperation as they stood in the kitchen talking to Kreacher and Dobby, both of whom had come with Harry to stay at the Burrow and help Mrs. Weasley with the cleaning. “Did he tell you where he was going, or not?” Remus asked Kreacher.
“Master tells Kreacher many things, but Kreacher cannot say. Master is a sneaking half-blood who doesn’t tell poor Kreacher where he is going.”
Tonks gritted her teeth in annoyance. “Well, did Harry say why he was going?” she asked Dobby, turning her attention to the friendly house-elf in the hopes that he might provide better answers.
“Please, miss, Harry Potter said only that he was going to find Professor Snape. But Dobby did not know Harry Potter was in trouble! Dobby could help, miss, he could!” Dobby pleaded, his huge round eyes wider than ever.
Tonks and Lupin glanced at each other. “Fine. Dobby, if you can, check every place where Harry likes to go. Kreacher, go to Harry’s house and see if he’s been there,” Remus instructed.
“Kreacher will not obey the half-breed scum! Kreacher does as he likes, and he does not like taking orders from those who are unworthy!” Kreacher screeched angrily.
Tonks had a sudden inspiration. “Wait, Kreacher, didn’t you know that Harry started cleaning out the house? He threw away everything you tried to hide, including your photos!” she lied, and the house-elf looked furious. “Plus, he tried tearing down the portrait of Mrs. Black. He said she was an ugly old bat.”
“He tried to take away the picture of my mistress?” Kreacher gasped in horror. “Filthy, stinking, sneaking Master! Kreacher must guard the family treasures!” With a loud ‘pop’, he disappeared, and Tonks smirked.
“Gullible little toerag, isn’t he?” she said, and Remus laughed.
***
Back at the Ministry, Kingsley Shacklebolt burst into Arthur Weasley’s office. “Thought I’d let you know, Aberforth saw Hardwick at the Hog’s Head yesterday. I went over there to question him, he said she came in with an owl, paid for a room, and stayed overnight. He didn’t see her come down the stairs to leave, so she must have Disapparated out of the room".
Mad-Eye was still sitting on the edge of Arthur’s desk. “She brought an owl? That’s funny, Hardwick’s never had an owl before. Doesn’t trust them, she’s so concerned about security when she sends messages.”
“Any news on Snape’s whereabouts?” Arthur asked Kingsley.
“Not so far. He’s good at hiding, I can tell you that. I’ve got lookouts all over the country for him, no one’s seen anything yet. All we know is that he’s not with the other Death Eaters, because they’re supposedly looking for him too.”
“How did you find that out?” Arthur inquired.
“They burnt down Malfoy Manor last night, because they thought Draco Malfoy might be hiding in there with Snape. Narcissa Malfoy has gone missing, too,” Kingsley informed him.
“Honestly, this is going to get worse before it gets better,” Arthur muttered.
***
Kreacher stormed through the halls of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, cursing and stomping his feet. He was rather annoyed, although not entirely surprised, to discover that Tonks had lied to him. There was a sudden noise, like someone Apparating, and he hobbled into the kitchen to investigate.
A tall hooded figure was standing there, their face hidden in shadow. Kreacher stared in disdain at the figure for a moment, contemplating what to do. Then, the house-elf was lifted off the ground and slammed against the wall. “Where is Potter?” a hoarse voice hissed, as the figure’s pale, thin hands gripped Kreacher.
“Master does not tell poor Kreacher where he goes, Kreacher knows nothing!” Kreacher cried, fear rising in his normally contemptuous voice.
“Why has he gone?” the hoarse voice asked, tightening his grip.
“Master said he was looking for Snape, he says he is going to kill him!” Kreacher sobbed.
The figure suddenly dropped him, and stepped back a few paces, lowering his hood. Severus Snape glared at Kreacher, his eyes fierce and bloodshot. “The half-breed said Master is missing, and Kreacher overheard the blood-traitor brats saying someone has been sent to find him,” the elf said, regaining his confidence at the sight of the familiar face. “Kreacher has heard things...heard you murdered the great lover of Mudbloods and half-breeds, Albus Dumbledore. Kreacher wonders how he did it?” he asked, his beady eyes boring into Snape with an unquestionable look of admiration.
Snape glared at him, his face contorted into an expression of loathing and disgust. “Who has been sent after Potter, you filthy little beast? Was it an Auror, or a member of the Order?”
“A woman. Kreacher heard the ugly one say she worked for no one. Kreacher remembers the horrid old man with the bulging eye speaking very highly of her.”
“Wait...it wasn’t Ursula Hardwick, was it?” Snape asked, and his voice contained a note of sudden panic.
“Kreacher thinks so. Kreacher saw her Patronus, out on the lawn of the blood-traitors’ house. A great, horrible bear. Kreacher was outside washing Master’s socks,” he finished with an expression of great disgust.
Snape sprang into action at once, putting up his hood and preparing to Disapparate. “Tell no one I’ve been here, or I’ll come back and finish you off,” he threatened, then vanished into thin air with a resounding ‘crack’.
Kreacher sneered to himself and disappeared as well, deciding that he had put up with quite a bit of abuse for one day and was in no way obliged to follow orders from traitors, Mudbloods and half-breeds.
Outside, the clouds in the sky had grown steadily darker, and in the distance thunder boomed. The gaps in the clouds revealed an eerily green sky, and the streets below darkened despite the fact that it was only two o’clock in the afternoon. A thick, icy mist swirled about, chilling all that it touched. No sooner had Kreacher left than Harry Potter appeared in the street, draped in his cloak and looking for answers.