14

Chapter 13

Harry looked around the penthouse in awe.

"Mrs Malfoy," he breathed. "It's…" he drifted off, truly beyond words.

Narcissa smiled, folding her hands demurely in front of her stylish pencil skirt. "Would you like the tour?"

Nodding, Harry followed behind, shadowed by his two equally impressed body guards.

"I renovated the entire apartment, and I hope you don't mind, but outside of the public areas that you specified may have contact with muggles, I added a few wizarding touches. Space expansion and the like, though I kept it fairly minimal."

They entered an open courtyard in the middle of the floor plan. It was covered in loose black and white river stones, each no bigger than a baby's fist. They made a beautiful swirling pattern that seemed to bend the eye, and Harry decided that it was best to just accept it was stunning and not look too closely. Scattered around the edges were tall ceramic pots with manicured shrubs, and Harry was pleased to note that they had been placed with an eye to defence, not just aesthetics. The surrounding walls were all glass, but the fourth side opened up to a breathtaking view of London.

"This area is designed as a welcoming foyer for wizards. Once you place the wards, you can leave this open for inbound apparition, but they won't be able to go inside without your authorization. It can be locked down despite being open to the air, though I left the specifics of the wards and defences to you, only putting up a few basic ones as a temporary measure."

Harry smiled, pleased with her forethought. "Thank you. It's lovely."

Narcissa grinned. "Wait until you see the rest!" Her enthusiasm broke through her usual pureblood reserve, and she all but bounced in place.

The rest of the tour was just as stunning as the first. The "muggle approved" areas were covered first; an open seating room for larger gatherings was decorated with a polished wood floor and dark grey leather seating, chrome and glass tables and lamps scattered around in convenient locations. One directional glass surrounded the two sides of the room from floor to ceiling, taking advantage of the view.

A muggle entertainment room was next, a giant flat screen television set into the wall. Harry gaped, knowing that such things were currently top of the line, and barely available on the commercial market. He also had trouble believing that a pureblood would know enough about such things to install it. Comfortable lounges were arranged in a U around it, plush and luxurious enough that Harry could hear them calling, begging him to give in and burrow into their plump cushions, never to emerge again. Only his curiosity allowed him to resist, though his reluctance to leave was palpable, bringing a smile to the normally austere woman.

The rest of the tour covered a beautiful Japanese styled dojo which looked out onto the Apparition Courtyard, a climate controlled muggle style workout room, a general lounge room with large fireplace and several bookshelves, a sleek kitchen, two studies, and six massive bedrooms - each with an enormous ensuite. The predominant colour scheme throughout the entire apartment was varying shades of white, grey, and black, with hints of wood and greenery preventing it from being too dull or heavy. It was the perfect bachelors pad, and completely excessive. Harry loved it.

On realising just how much wizard space had been added, Harry turned a look on the blonde woman, who ignored it with aplomb. Apparently turning a discrete three bedroom penthouse into a single floor mansion didn't count as doing a lot of magic. Rolling his eyes, Harry followed her out onto a personal patio from the Master bedroom.

It was a corner of what would otherwise have been part of the room, with wooden decking supporting a few more of the tall ceramic pots and dense shrubbery. A sunken seating area kept the view undisturbed from inside the room, and the two open sides allowed for plenty of fresh air without risk from inclement weather.

"What do you think?"

"I think you have truly outdone yourself, Mrs Malfoy. It's absolutely perfect." Harry took her hand and bowed at the waist, kissing the back of her knuckles gently. "Would you allow me to escort you to lunch? I happen to know of a French restaurant reasonably close to here that reviews very well. I've been meaning to try it, and now seems like the perfect opportunity."

Laughing throatily, Narcissa agreed, tucking a hand into the arm offered. The new height gained during his healing allowed for the move to not look as ridiculous as it would have only weeks beforehand, and Harry silently blessed Alex for convincing him to wear one of his new Armani suits that day. Honestly, he didn't know what he'd do without that man.

Inspector Gregory Adama threw the folder onto his desk, snarling with frustration. How, he wondered irritably, was it possible for the boy to just disappear? The boy had managed to vanish during the confusion when the alarm had been triggered, and then nothing. Even CCTV had failed to find a glimpse of the child, and Adama was reaching the end of his tether.

His partner, Thomas Brady sneered. "Are you still fixated on that brat? I'm telling you, you're barking up the wrong tree. Nobody is going to tell anything to a kid! At best, he's Vahan's little fuck toy, but the little shit is too wily to lead us to his sugar daddy, and now that Vahan knows we know about him, the brat's probably feeding some fish at the bottom of the Thames about now." He leaned back and folded his arms, scowling.

Adama scowled back. "Maybe, but he was our only lead." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Fine, if Tiny can't give us an in, we'll have to start right from the beginning. We have to have missed something." He shuffled through his folder, and peered at the whiteboard that was covered with scribbles, pictures and assorted diagrams that made no discernable sense to anyone other than the author.

Brady groaned. "I'm telling you, there is nothing. The only way we are going to get anywhere is to send someone in undercover. You know this. Why do you keep refusing?"

"Because Vahan is more brutal than the fucking mob, that's why! I'm not willing to risk the lives of my men unless I have absolutely no other option, and to be honest, it concerns me how eager you are to pursue that direction."

Brady sneered and leaned forward, jabbing a finger at the older man. "Don't you fucking dare. These men knew what they were signing up for when they joined the Force, and they knew that one day it might end messily. So stop mollycoddling them and let them do their fucking jobs! You may like to play the protective father, but they aren't kids, and you need to stop fucking treating them like it!"

Adama sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine, but only if someone volunteers. I'll not assign someone for this, and I won't allow anyone who has a family to do it. I won't put innocents at risk."

Brady lit up with a triumphant smile. "I'll go round up the boys then, shall I?"

"Boss, got news." Sergei strode into Vahan's study without knocking, and threw himself into the chair in front of the desk. "Adama's finally making a move. Got word from one of the cops we bought on the taskforce. They're going to pull in one of Tommy's Boys and try to get him to roll on you, then they plan to use him to vouch for one of their guys to get him in undercover."

Harry shifted, leaning back in his seat, still reading a report. "Do we know who's being sent in?"

Sergei chuckled. "The same one who warned us - Timothy White."

Sniggering, Harry picked up his pen again, fiddling with it absently as he read. "Tell whoever they pull in to roll and vouch for White. We'll let him up the ranks a little and see how loyal he really is. I leave it in your capable hands; you know what to do." He scribbled his signature on a form, and moved on to the next. "How's everyone back at The Nest?"

"Fine. The kids miss you, but they're happy with the Andrews. Bradshaw is showing more brain activity, Marcel reckons he'll wake up in a day or two; we haven't said anything to Connor about it though. Speaking of Connor, are you going to bring him here?"

Harry frowned, chewing his bottom lip. "I haven't decided yet, but probably not. I was thinking that we should send him and Marcel to The Haunt, but he isn't being magically trained yet, so it's not really urgent."

Sergei nodded. "If we find some more magical kids though, we'll need to do it. We can't risk the muggle kids seeing something they shouldn't."

"I know. I need to go see them all soon too. I'll be taking them out on jobs in the near future, getting them seen around the community a bit."

Smiling, the Russian rested his chin on his fist. "You really are a piece of work, Boss, you know that, right?"

Harry frowned faintly, glancing up briefly from his paperwork. "Is that a compliment?"

"Take it how you like. There aren't many people who're cold enough to use kids like you do. For all your militant stance on them whoring - which I fully support, by the way - you're still willing to use them in your business for everything else. And you make them love you for it."

Harry sighed heavily and finally focused his full attention on the man opposite him. "Is that a problem?"

"Not at all. You look after them, and make sure they have what they need to thrive and make something of themselves, as well as winning their undying loyalty in the process. And you'll gut anyone who tries to hurt them. I count that as a good thing. I'm just pointing out that you are a seriously cold son of a bitch to be able to play them like this."

"It's just business."

Sergei scoffed. "Maybe. Doesn't mean I'm wrong though."

"Never said you were."

"What about Connor? You treat him differently than the others. Is he just business too?"

Harry's face closed slightly, warning the older man he was pushing into dangerous territory. "Connor is mine. He'll be trained up as my heir, if he proves himself worthy of it."

Sergei's eyebrows shot up. "Your heir? You don't plan to have any of your own blood?"

Harry shook his head. "Not at this stage. That might change in the future if Connor turns out to be a disappointment, but if he does as well as I think he will, then I'll see about blood adopting him."

The mercenary whistled between his teeth. "And you still aren't planning to bring him here?"

"Not yet. Once he's a little older and has had a chance to prove himself, I'll reassess. At the moment he would just be a distraction, and his desire to stand out from the others and win my approval is his driving force. If I bring him with me rather than leaving him with the other kids, that'll remove some of that desire."

"Fair enough. Did you want to head over to Potter Manor this afternoon?"

"No, in a week or so. I've got too much to do right now."

"Alright. I'm going to hit the dojo."

Already buried back in his paperwork, Harry waved a hand in absent dismissal, barely noticing as the man left.

Nathan jerked his head up in alarm when Greg and Daniel tumbled through the front door.

"Dad!" Greg shouted, staggering closer, his hand clamped over his ribs, blood dripping between his fingers. His face was a mass of scrapes and bruises, and his clothing was badly torn, revealing similar wounds all over.

"Greg? What happened?" He shot to his feet, catching his son as he stumbled and fell to his knees. "Daniel? Are you alright?" His eyes quickly scanned the sobbing eight year old, seeing only a superficial bruise on his face and a split lip. Shouting for Marcel, he lowered his oldest onto the tiled floor, adding a hand to the wound on the boy's side and applying pressure, trying to help stem the bleeding.

"Dad," the teen moaned. "They took Mum! I tried to stop them, I did!" He gasped, tears streaming from his eyes, leaving streaks of cleaner skin through the blood.

"Who? Who took her?" Nathan asked, frantic as he saw his boy begin to lose consciousness.

"Male, mid-thirties. Black hair and a scar on his neck. Two goons with him, but I didn't get a good look. I'm sorry Dad, I tried!" The boy sobbed, his eyes unfocused and breathing raspy.

Marcel ran in, quickly assessing the scene and taking charge. "Daniel, are you hurt elsewhere?"

The little boy shook his head, crying. "No. They hit me and knocked me out. Greg carried me most of the way home." He sobbed, looking at his brother. "Is he going to be ok?"

Marcel smiled reassuringly, even as he ran diagnostics over the now unconscious teen. "He'll be fine. It looks worse than it is. He'll be right as rain in a few days. Nathan, I need you to call Harry and the Hounds. They'll want to know about this." Flicking his wand, he levitated the teen and set off for the infirmary, ushering Daniel along with him.

Nodding, the pale man fumbled for the phone in his pocket.

"Harry? Someone took Tammy, and Greg is hurt bad."

Reassured that his boss was on the way, he set his jaw and strode towards the infirmary. First, he was going to see how his son was. And then, he was going hunting. Somebody was going to die for this.