Chapter 225

He stared right back. "Did I flinch?"

"Very well then," The goblin said before it hopped off its chair and headed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

It was a full twenty minutes before it returned, this time not bothering to sit

"I've had our contact smuggle his body into a discreet room with a fireplace. You will have five minutes alone in there, and you will have to Floo back before that time is up. We do not want our contacts to see our clients or vice versa, so the contact will be waiting outside. Knock the door once before you Floo back."

"What is the Floo address?" he asked, getting up from his chair.

"Wizengamot Office 39"

He promptly turned around, not saying anything more as he grabbed Floo powder from the pot on the mantelpiece, threw it into the fire and stepped in, muttering the address under his breath.

The green blaze engulfed him once more, spitting him out into a familiar looking room. It was an unused Wizengamot office, presumably belonging to some now extinct family. The chairs and the desk had collected dust for quite a while now.

But all that was in the back of his mind. The only thing his eyes were focused on was the gown-clad body on the wheeled stretcher that stood in the middle of the room.

His legs walked as if involuntarily as he took in the face of his grandson. His blood. His heir.

He hadn't seen any similarities when he had glanced at his picture in the newspaper, most probably because he wasn't looking for them. But now, the resemblance was starting to become obvious. Johnny's nose and cheekbones were prominent in that forever stilled face. He stood there for how long he did not know, memorizing everything he could about the family he would never know.

It was only when an urgent knock sounded at the door that he realized that his time was up.

He looked at the body for one last time before he pulled out the newspaper he'd put in his pocket and looked at the face plastered on the front page. A sudden wave of burning hatred took over him, and he crumpled the paper up and threw it into the fireplace that lit the room. Turning to the body of his grandson, he ran a hand through the boy's hair.

"Your killer will pay. I promise you that much," he said, before he wiped his eyes of their tears, walked over to the door to knock on it once before quickly entering the Floo and headed back in a blaze of fire.

The magical picture of Lisa Turpin, motile as all magical pictures were, tried in vain to save itself as the newspaper burnt to ashes.

He was about an hour early for his meeting with Dumbledore, Harry thought as he emerged from the Floo in Professor McGonagall's office the next day.

The office was empty, he realized as he looked around. The Transfiguration Professor was probably busy dealing with the numerous Aurors that were no doubt swarming the place, looking through anything and everything in sight. Walking over to the oaken door leading out of the office, Harry opened it and slipped outside into the corridor.

It had never really hit him that he wouldn't be seeing these hallways again for a year, Harry thought as he walked towards the Headmaster's office. He hadn't expected that it would affect him as much as it was.

But he should have. It was his home after all.

Turning a corner on the way to the Grand Staircase, Harry suddenly came to a halt. McGonagall and a burly Auror were loudly arguing in the middle of the hallway. Neither of them seemed to have noticed him yet.

Harry backtracked to a spot just behind the corner, pulling out and putting on his Invisibility Cloak before leaning over to spy on the conversation. The Auror was tapping his wand on the lock on a nearby door as McGonagall was trying vainly to talk him out of doing it.

"Entering the seventh year Alchemy classroom without the Headmaster's permission or assistance is very dangerous Mr. Murphy." McGonagall argued.

"That's Auror Murphy to you," the Auror interrupted gruffly.

Harry frowned.

A flush crept up the Professor's face before she replied, "Very well then Auror Murphy. There are several dangerous alchemical concoctions in that room, and the Headmaster is the only one sufficiently trained in Alchemy in this school. If he does not supervise you going into that room, then your life might be at ri-"

"Don't teach me how to do my job woman," the burly Auror; Murphy; snapped at her, "If you had done yours right then maybe all those kids wouldn't have died."

Harry's eyes widened as he almost gasped.

The color drained out of McGonagall's face. She gritted her teeth, visibly trying to restrain herself, before she angrily stomped away from the conversation. Harry pushed himself up against the side as she passed him, trying to remain unnoticed as he watched her wipe her eyes on her sleeves before striding off towards her office.

Ping!

Quest Alert

How about you stop moping about your life for a minute and teach that twerp a lesson for messing with our dear Professor? Cunt!

Reward,

1,000 Exp

Failure,

What are you expecting? Death? Here's what's gonna happen. At worst temporary detention by the Auror, because seriously. You're fucking Harry Potter. Do what you need to.

YES/NO?

Harry grinned before accepting the quest and waving away the windows. It had been a while since the game had shown its personality overtly. It was nice to have the familiar sarcastic tone back again.

And while he had no doubt that the esteemed Professor could easily take care of herself, she seemed to be unwilling to act in retribution against Auror Dickhead over there. Due to that, as a loyal student himself, it only made sense to act in her stead.

Besides, what else was he supposed to do with an entire hour of free time?

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