“Iknowwecan’tstopyoufromworrying,”Felixoffered,“butwehaveleadsonthecase.Wewon’tstopuntilwe’vefoundher.”
“Thankyou,”Pansyofferedhimhalfasmile.Shegatheredherselfandstoodtoleave.“I’mstayingattheAshtyl.Pleasekeepmeupdated.”
“Wewill,”Felixnodded.
“Ouch!”HarryswattedRon’shandoffhisshoulder.
Assoonashe’dslammedthedoorshut,Ron’sfaceflushedred.“Harry,mate.WhatinGodric’snamedoyouthinkyou’redoing?”
“Me?”Harryappealed.“Ihaven’tdoneanything!Ifyou’dgottenmymessage,you’dknowwhathappened.”
“ClearlyIhaven’t.Soyou’regoingtohavetoexplainittome.”Harrytookabreathandthenrecountedtheeventsofthelasttwentyfourhours.Heleftnodetailout,exceptthescenehe’dwitnessedonthefourteenthfloor.Whileitweighedonhim,Harrywassurewhateveritwashadnorelationtoanyofthecases,letalonewoulditreassureRon,technicallyhishandler,thatallofHarry’smentalfacultieswerestillintact.“SoletmeseeifIunderstandthis,”Ronsaidfinally.“You’vebeenfiredfromyourjobforwalkinginonMarwanZivantus’murderscene,onlytosomehowdiscoverhismissingdaughterlaterthatnight?And—”Rongazedaroundwildly,“—whilstyouwereoffreturningthekneazleandsawMarwan’sdaughter,someonekilledyourneighborwhiletheywereinyourflat,whichyouandDracobloodyMalfoyhadonlyjustvacated.”
“Iknowitsounds—”
“You’vegottaditchEversworn,”Roninterrupted.
Harryfrowned.“No,really,Ican’t—he’stheonlywayintothehotel.”
“There’sotherways,Harry.Thatfaceismorealiabilitynowthananasset.”
Harrywantedtoobject.ButheknewRonwasright.“IswearMalfoyknowsmorethanhe’sleton.Ithinkhetrustsme,er,Eversworn.Itmightbetheonlyway,”Harrypostulated.RonshookhisheadandHarrysighed.“Fine,”herelented.Thedisappointmentofwastingeightmonthsonsomethingonlytofailmadehimabitsick.Heeyedadeskchairandpulleditforward.Whenhesat,heshotRonalookofresignation.Thelabtechwho’dappliedhischarmssaiditwouldbemorepainfulgettingthemremovedthanputon,andsuddenlyHarryregrettedgivinginsoeasily.
“Thisisgoingtohurt,isn’tit?”Harrygulped.
Ronnoddedandhandedhimavialfilledwithamilkychartreusepotion.Harrydowneditandwaited.Hisfacebegantofeelveryhot,almostburning.Thenthestingingsensationhithimandhesqueezedhiseyesclosed.Itwasasifthousandsofpimpleswerebeingpoppedonhisface.Thebriefagonyofthatwasfollowedbysomethingcoolandlight.Harryopenedhiseyesandrealizedtheprostheticshadslidoffhisfaceandontothefloor,andacold,nakedsensationwashedoverhimastheairkissedhisrealskin.
“Alright,Harry?”
“Yeah,”heranhishandsthroughhishair.“Restinpeace,Archie.”
“Moretroublethanhewasworth,”Ronsaid.
Theyexitedthebuildingatabriskpace,HarryeagertogetawayfromtheinvestigatorsandRoncomplainingaboutneedinglunch.Theyheadedtoasmallcafethatwasoutofthewayofthemoreheavilytraffickedwizardareas.WhenHarryfinallyfeltthesunonhisface,theoddwarmthmadehimshudder.Hewascertainhe’dfeltthesunonhisfacewiththecharms,butsomehowthey’dlefthisskinfeelingsoincrediblycold.
“Alright?”Ronlookedoverastheywalked.
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