16

Chapter 15

Harry sighed and scrubbed his face in exhaustion.

It was Christmas Day, and the children had insisted he be up and with them in front of the Christmas tree at five o'clock in the morning. The tree and other festive paraphernalia had been a group project by Mama Andrews and the children a few days before she had been taken, and they'd had a sugar fuelled afternoon where they'd gone utterly mad with the decorations.

Harry was of the opinion that it looked like a tinsel factory had thrown up in his living room.

Being dragged from his warm bed by five pyjama clad children had been traumatic enough, but watching them tear through the mountains of presents under the tree had reduced him to a wreck; flashbacks of the Dursley's playing behind his eyes. For a moment, he felt the cold of inadequate clothing, and the biting hunger of an empty stomach, envy and desolation eating away at his insides as he peered through the narrow shutters on the door of his cupboard as the rest of his so called family laughed and smiled around the glittering tree.

Forcing himself to breathe deeply, he beat a quick retreat into the kitchens to obtain his secret recipe chilli hot chocolate for everyone, and buy himself enough time to calm down. And if he'd spiked is own with a liberal dose of Frangelico, well, it wasn't as if anyone would tell him off about it, even if they knew.

After a huge cooked breakfast and a lingering shower, Harry dressed in Armani trousers, wine red silk shirt that was closely tailored to his slim form, and threw on a thick wool ankle length coat. Pulling on gloves and wrapping his scarf around his neck, he collected Sergei, determined to get out of the house and away from the nauseating festivities. He honestly didn't understand what all the fuss was about, it was just another day like any other; but it seemed important to the children, so he put it down to being a non-optional social convention and tried to keep his eye rolling to a minimum.

"So, where to Boss?" Sergei asked as they strode down the street together, neither really aware of what an intimidating picture they presented as their coats swirled dramatically behind them, their steps perfectly synced.

"I don't care. I just need to get away for a bit. Do you have any errands to run that I can tag along with?" Harry looked up at his Russian bodyguard pleadingly, his emerald green eyes huge and glistening.

Sergei snorted derisively. "Put the puppy dog eyes away, Boss. If you want to go out, I'm hardly going to stop you. I don't need to do anything, but I wouldn't mind stopping down Knockturn for a few bits and pieces, since you're offering."

Harry smiled cheekily, skipping ahead and spinning so he could walk backwards. "What are we waiting for? Why are we still here? Hurry up, old man!"

The mercenary rolled his eyes indulgently and ducked into a discrete alley, holding his elbow out for his bratty protégé. With a deft spin on his heel and a soft crack, the two of them disappeared.

Reappearing in the Apparition Zone, they quickly slipped through the crowd and ducked into the shadowed alley.

Harry dutifully followed the older man around, taking the opportunity to browse while his companion haggled, threatened, bribed, and traded his way through several stores. Their final stop was Borgin and Burkes, and Harry entertained himself by browsing the new merchandise in the back room.

His interest piqued by a bone white carved trunk, he called Mr Borgin over.

The shopkeep scratched his scalp through his lank and disturbingly greasy hair. "Ah, interesting piece that one. Picked it up yesterday from an acquaintance. Doing him a favour, really. It's not magical, despite being made from Mage Wood. Don't usually buy from him, but he claimed his latest venture had fallen through when some merchandise went missing, and he needed some cash to get out of town before some less than pleasant folks decided to get chummy, if you know what I mean."

Harry nodded with a bland smile. "May I?"

"Of course, of course! Wish all my customers were as thoughtful as you, lad. You're a rare one, no doubt about that!"

The boy rolled his eyes and he kneeled next to the trunk, looking it over closely. He ignored Mr Borgin's nattering about the benefits of buying unenchanted Mage Wood and focused. There was something… His fingers found the slight depression that didn't match the rest of the engraving, and the entire top section of the trunk flipped out of the way, leaving a small compartment hidden in the base.

"Huh," he blinked in surprise. "I think I found the missing merchandise."

Sergei stepped up, leaning over his boss's shoulder to see, only to pause and blink in surprise as well. "What is that?"

"Looks like some sort of big cat - or at least it will be when it grows up."

"You mean like a Puma?" The Russian watched as the boy carefully lifted the pitiful kitten out of the filthy compartment.

Mr Borgin was beside himself, wringing his hands fretfully. "I had no idea! I don't do live things! I would never have - you know I wouldn't - not right, it's not!"

Harry continued his policy of ignoring the annoying thing until it shut up and went away. "He's in bad shape, Sergei. Is there anything we can do? He's just a baby!" He settled the shivering kitten close to his chest, stroking it gently. He was trembling just as much, fighting against the flashbacks of being locked in his cupboard for days on end. Shuddering, he bent his head and nuzzled the little fur ball gently, eliciting a weak mewl.

"No idea Boss, but Marcel might be able to help. Not sure if he's ever worked on animals before, but he's a soft touch, so I wouldn't be surprised."

Nodding, Harry stood. "Mr Borgin, I'll be taking the kitten. I think I'll skip the trunk, if it's all the same."

With a rather impressive swirl of his coat that was miraculously no less intimidating for all that he was cuddling a fuzzy thing with huge eyes to his chest, Harry strode from the store, his faithful bodyguard hot on his heels.

"Well firstly, he is actually a she."

"What?" Harry looked up from where he was stroking the sleeping kitten in the box next to his desk, focusing his attention back on the Healer.

"You've been saying he. She is a she."

"Oh. Alright then. Is she going to be ok?" Harry fought the urge to bite his lip in nervousness, keeping his face as blank as he could manage.

"With some TLC and a bit of time, she'll be fine. It's lucky you got her here when you did though. She's severely underweight, and was dangerously dehydrated. We're going to have to feed her carefully though, she's too small to be away from her mother, really. I'd put her at maybe six weeks old? It's interesting though; she's completely non magical, so I have no earthly idea why she was locked in a magical trunk."

Harry scowled. "Considering what Mr Borgin said of the acquaintance he bought the trunk from and how she was found, I'd say that they were trying to smuggle her. Some rich arseholes idea of showing off his superiority - like the Malfoy's with those fucking albino peacocks. Her mother is probably dead."

"What are you going to do with her? Sergei was right when he guessed she was a Puma, and Mountain Lion's get big." Marcel brushed his hair behind his ear and sat, finally putting the clipboard down, his urge to fiddle with things sated for the moment.

"She'll stay with me for the moment, but I'll be moving back to Sanctum as soon as the situation with Mama Andrews is resolved. I'll also be spending a lot of time at Fortress. I'll keep her there once she's big enough to not need me. The grounds are extensive there, I'm sure she'd love it."

"Sanctum? Fortress? Are these new codenames you've forgotten to tell me about?" The handsome Italian pouted playfully.

Harry rolled his eyes, smiling faintly. "Well if you paid attention in the meetings instead of linking all of my paperclips together into new and annoying patterns then you might remember things like this. The same also applies to your repeated theft of my pens, stapler, and coffee mug. But yes; Sanctum is the penthouse, and Fortress is the Manor."

Marcel looked up from where he had just started linking all the paperclips into a chain. "Sorry, did you say something?"

The lock popped open with a soft click, and she held her breath, listening for any movement in the house. Breathing out slowly at the somnolent quiet, she slipped inside, gently closing the front door behind her.

Treading lightly, she slipped down the hall, her soft soled shoes completely silent on the polished wood. She kept close to the wall, a black clad shadow as she stepped closer to her target.

With a faint grin, she wedged a chair under the door to the guards room. Despite their pattern for the last few days, both men were currently home, and she wasn't going to risk them stumbling on her before her task was complete.

Pressing her ear against the final door, she listened for a moment, before carefully turning the doorknob. Slipping inside, she ghosted over to the bed, and looked down at the lump under the duvet. She couldn't see much of the boy, and the lump was unsettlingly small, but she had done her research. There was no other way.

Trembling slightly, she leaned forward, fingers curling around the edge of the blankets.

Alex groaned and stretched, glancing at the clock before settling drowsily in his chair in front of the fire. The warm light flickered playfully over his features and his half lidded eyes glittered in the low light, changing the hazel to a warm amber.

He stretched out an arm, and lazily lifted a tumbler of scotch to his lips, enjoying the burn as it slipped down his throat and warmed his stomach.

"Oi, suka, it's time for rounds."

Sergei's gruff tones broke through his comfortable haze, and he scowled. "Not your bitch, arsehole. And it's your turn."

The Russian chuckled. "I've got a winning hand at poker from a week ago that says it isn't."

Alex scowled again, and grudgingly hauled himself to his feet. "Curse you and your immovable face! One day I will figure out your tell!"

Sergei raised his glass in a toast, grinning slightly. "And until you do, I will continue taking your money, valuables, and IOUs. But for now, ni pukha, ni pyera!"

With a playful sneer, Alex turned to the door, raising one fist as he walked. "K chyortu!" Grabbing the doorhandle, he frowned when it refused to budge. Testing it a few more times, he threw a look over his shoulder. "Sergei?"

The older man swiftly joined him at the door, testing the knob himself a few times.

"You think there's trouble? Because if we bust the door down and wake the kids for no reason, Harry's going to have our balls. It took him three hours to get the kids asleep after all the sugar and excitement today." Alex bit his lip lightly as he pondered.

"Better the kids wake up than the Boss getting offed because we didn't do our jobs. But I agree we should try the quiet way first. I can't hear anything outside, so it's not the cops at least."

The two men set themselves to casting every unlocking charm they knew.

A cold metal cylinder pressed firmly against the base of her skull.

Raising her hands slowly, she straightened, not daring to turn and look into the burning green eyes she knew were boring into the back of her head. Unable to repress a shudder, she trembled when the boy's icy voice broke the silence.

"Christmas was last night, Santa, and you didn't come down the chimney; so why don't we talk about who you are, and why I shouldn't ventilate your head?"