Chapter 1 : Nothing left to say
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Weaving her way through the crowds of workers who seemed in no hurry at all to get to their jobs, even when it was nearly 9 in the morning and seemed to not want to move at all, Melody squeezed herself through the limited space she could find. Spying a lift that was just about to depart, Melody made a run for it, only just managing to get on before the caged door shut, at the expense of her brand new scarf, which was now fluttering in the wind of the lift as it moved away. Finding herself squashed between an old man who clearly had a big appetite and a middle aged woman who seemed to be quite the opposite, Melody stood rigid as the lift stopped at every department. By the fourth stop, the old, overweight man had gotten off and Melody was now stood quite comfortably in the lift, breathing in the stale, used air. The sixth stop was her own and she quickly stepped out onto the Magical Law Enforcement Department. Straightening out her now crumpled clothes, attempting to not let it show she had just been crushed between bodies of people and trying to look a little more professional, she headed towards the office. She could already hear her boss’ booming voice and Melody had to close her eyes and still herself for a moment and then proceeded to talk herself into walking through the door. It had become somewhat of a daily ritual for Melody Undine Kerrigan.
Melody was a newly qualified magical law enforcer, twenty-two and employed merely weeks ago after passing all her exams with surprisingly top grades. She had been hailed as a new prodigy, told she would be big news and go far but Melody disagreed with all her rave reviews. In fact, after a month in the department, Melody was having second thoughts about her chosen career and she was most definitely not living up to her name. Her boss, Frederick Bones, a burly grey haired man, nearing sixty-five with a booming, Yorkshire accented voice believed she would go on to do great things but only under his training. And so Melody had been under his wing, so to speak for the past month, listening to his stories of his days as a new enforcer and how he caught the famous wizard killer, Markas Grendall when he was only twenty-five. He was not a man to be crossed, Melody had learned very early on and he had a tendency to shout at anyone who annoyed him, which was the majority of the office. Yet, despite his quick temper and exaggerated stories of heroism, Melody had grown to like the man.
Taking one more deep breath, she opened the door to the bustling office. No one was ever still for long and if you were caught standing stationary longer than 5 minutes, you weren’t doing your job properly. Hearing the buzz of everyone talking in hushed tones, Melody frowned trying to catch a sentence about why the place was in such a busy, talkative state. As if answering her thoughts, someone shoved the daily prophet into her hands. Glancing briefly at it, she caught a picture of James Potter, international quidditch star. Rolling her eyes at what was probably another one of Heather Merryweather’s ‘Ode to the magnificent James Potter’, she tucked in her pocket walked over to her neat desk, which held only a plant given to her by her parents and a small picture of her family. Melody was just about to take her coat off when Frederick’s booming voice rang out through the room, causing everyone to stop what they were doing.
“MELODY KERRIGAN, IN MY OFFICE. NOW!”
Melody could feel herself shrinking in embarrassment and wished the ground would swallow her whole. Feeling eyes on her from every direction, she walked to the office, knocking politely before slipping quickly inside. However, if she wanted to feel any sort of relief from hiding from curious eyes, she got none from being in Frederick’s office. She didn’t know what was worse; the stares from colleagues or the way Frederick was looking at her. Glancing at her boss, she saw the familiar reddening of his neck, a sure sign that he was angry. Melody hovered by the door for a minute, unsure about what to do before plucking up the courage to walk towards Frederick and the empty chair in front of his desk. It was only then she noticed that the other two chairs were occupied. And then she noticed their occupants.
Harry Potter and Hermione Granger-Weasley.
Melody took a second to look at them before turning her attention to Frederick and gulped. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Yes, sit,” As short as ever, Frederick wasn’t the sort of man to drag things out. He had a pet hate for people who beat around the bush. He was a straight to the point kind of man and this conversation was no different. “These two here think they can steal my best enforcer and I can’t do a goddamn thing about it!”
Melody didn’t know how to respond to Frederick’s statement. She didn’t have any idea what he was talking about. However, she was saved when Harry Potter cleared his throat.
“Mr Bones, we don’t mean to steal,” Harry then turned to face Melody, a small smile on his face, “just merely borrow for a while, that’s all.” Harry Potter was everything he was described to be; charming, polite but with a hint of mischief in his eyes, the mischief that had gotten him into a lot of trouble in Hogwarts and made him a legend amongst the next generation of students, including Melody herself. Melody felt in awe just by sitting beside the man.
Melody opened her mouth to ask why she was needed by Harry Potter, which was something that didn’t happen on a regular basis to anyone she knew of but Frederick cut her off. “Oh yes, borrow her and then never return her!” Frederick’s voice was steadily rising in volume and she could see the clichéd vein that he had, starting to appear near his right temple, “I don’t want to lose a valuable member of my team, let alone a member that I actually like!”
Frederick continued to mutter things, this time under his breath and it gave Melody time to think about exactly what was going on. She still wasn’t entirely sure whether it was her that was being talked about, however the comment about being liked by Frederick gave her an inkling that she was the topic of the conversation.
Leaving Frederick to argue his two guests, having nothing really to contribute to conversation, Melody took at the slightly crumpled copy of the Daily Prophet and looked at it closely. It couldn’t have been coincidence that on the day James Potter is featured on the front page of the Prophet, his father and godmother just so happen to be in their department. And when she read the headline, she knew she was right.
“Harry Potter’s Son, A Murderer?” was written in largely bolded letters, taking up almost half of the cover, leaving not much space for any information. Turning to the requested page, another picture of the Quidditch star looked up at her. Trying not to let Heather Merryweather’s dreadful journalism detract from the report, she carefully read through the incident that had occurred a mere two days ago. Archie Wood, James’ supposed arch rival in the Quidditch world, renown son of ex Puddlemere United keeper Oliver Wood, had been found dead in his home and apparently all the evidence pointed to James Potter.
Now Melody understood why Harry Potter was currently sat beside her. Reading over the report of incident, given by veteran Auror, Bernard Clare, Archie Wood had been stabbed to death in his living room. The weapon, a knife found at the scene, had James Potter’s initials on it, J.S.P and also traces of his DNA on the handle. As if that wasn’t enough, Archie Wood’s DNA had been found on the t-shirt James had been wearing the night of Archie’s murder. Muggle CCTV footage also caught the pair arguing outside a pub, getting into an altercation. The evidence was pretty overwhelming against James. It would take a damn good enforcer to help him prove his innocence. Yet that still did not explain why she sitting alongside them in the office.
Placing the paper back in her pocket, she had missed the continuing conversation but knew something had been said that Frederick hadn’t liked. The tension had risen uncontrollably in the room, the air becoming suffocating. Whatever had been said, it was evident that she would be leaving the office with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger-Weasley and there was nothing Frederick, or Melody, could do about it.
“Mr Bones, we already have permission to borrow Miss Kerrigan, whether you authorise it or not. This was more of a courtesy call to be polite.” Harry Potter’s voice had changed. The underlying niceness in his voice had gone and it had been replaced with a restrained frustration, a tone verging on anger. Melody could see him trying not to shout at the old man in front of him out of respect.
Frederick stuttered for a few minutes, spluttering a few choice words before giving up and sighing. “Fine, there’s nothing I can do about it.” Frederick huffed and folded his arms across his chest, “I guess that was the plan all along, wasn’t it?”
Neither Harry nor Hermione replied to Frederick, who was shaking his head at the pair. Instead, they stood up and turned to Melody, both with small, professionally friendly smiles on their faces and it was Hermione who spoke.
“We’re sorry to spring this on you but we need to get going. I’ll explain when we arrive. If you wouldn’t mind?” She motioned to the fireplace and after a couple of minutes, Melody realised what Hermione was doing and she turned pink with embarrassment and stood up, clumsily. Nodding, Melody picked up her bag and walked over to the hearth. Shooting a glance at Frederick, Melody shot him a small, apologetic smile before turning back to a waiting Harry Potter.
He gave her a small, reassuring smile before placing a hand on her shoulder. “Right, we’re off to my house so saying “The Potter’s House” should get you to my office. That’s the plan, anyway.”
Melody said nothing but nodded and took a handful of floo powder, stepping into the fireplace. Taking a deep breath, she threw the powder down and said in a clear voice, “The Potter’s House.” Almost instantaneously, she felt the familiar whirling feeling that flooing gave, like you were on a rollercoaster that was going just a little bit too fast for your stomach to handle. Within a couple of minutes, Melody landed, somewhat unsteadily, on her feet in what must have been Harry’s home office. Hermione was already there, waiting with a smile but said nothing until Harry appeared in the room.
Hermione took a seat and motioned for Melody to do the same. After a couple of minutes, she finally plucked up the nerve to speak to the pair. “What is going on here? I don’t mean to be rude but I have no idea why I’m here and why you’ve taken me from my job. Can someone please explain to me?”
Hermione and Harry exchanged looks before Harry nodded. “Right, of course. We’re sorry for not explaining to you, the matter is…delicate, so to speak so we would thought it would be best to wait until you were here to explain to you. The reason you’re here is because of my son.”
Melody knew instantly what the reason was, the Daily Prophet had filled her in on the overall situation, although she was still taking most of it with a pinch of salt due to it’s writer, Heather Merryweather, Rita Skeeter wannabe who was just as irritating and fact-less as her predecessor. Melody felt a twinge of pity for the man, he had been in the Daily Prophet almost every day of his younger life, something horrible written about him most days now it was his son’s turn. It seemed the wizarding world would never leave Harry Potter and his family alone.
Harry noticed the recognition and perhaps the slight expression of pity on Melody’s face and sighed. “I see you’ve seen the Daily Prophet then?” The note of disdain in his voice was clear to hear and Melody nodded.”Right, so you know some of what is going on then. My eldest son James had been accused of the murder of Archie Wood. He’s adamant he didn’t do it and I believe him.”
Hermione continued the conversation, “We think, well we know he is being framed. It’s the only explanation we have for how much evidence there is against him.”
Melody frowned once more. She had no idea where this was going and she voiced her confusion clearly. “I don’t understand. How can you be certain he is being framed when there is evidence against him? If there is evidence, what can we do about it?” She was going to add that perhaps the evidence was correct and that James had killed Archie but she thought better of it after seeing the seriousness on both of their faces.
“James is being framed.” Melody watched as Harry stood up from his chair and began pacing the office floor. It was a movement that Harry was clearly used to doing, the fluidity in his pacing almost unnatural as he glided across the polished, wood floor. “We know he is, I know he is. And this is where you come into it, Miss Kerrigan. I want you to help us find out the truth and find who framing my son.”
“Me? Why pick me? I’m not even a proper law enforcer, let alone a detective. I’ve only been in the job a month!” Melody shook her head in denial. “Pick someone else, someone more experienced. I’m flattered you think I am good enough to help you but I’m not, honestly.”
“But you are. I’ve seen your exam results, they were brilliant.” Melody blushed at Hermione’s mention of her results. Even she knew the cleverness of the older witch stood in front of her so to gain a compliment was an achievement. But even that couldn’t make Melody believe she should be sat there. Hermione continued on, “And you’re not biased. The older, experienced detectives have hidden agendas. Some will want to please Harry for a price, others will want to see him suffer at the hands of old enemies and will use James to do that.” Melody didn’t need Hermione to elaborate who the ‘old enemies’ were. Even now, in a time of peace, death eaters were very much around, all looking for another master to follow, waiting for that call to come.
Melody sighed. She couldn’t see a way out of the situation and it was no use refusing, it hadn’t gotten Frederick anywhere. There was only one answer to give.
“Okay, I’ll help you. Where do I start, though? Melody let out a nervous laugh. “I can tell you now that I have no idea what I’m doing.”
As the words tumbled out of her mouth, Melody couldn’t help but feel a small feeling of regret pool in the pit of her stomach but she knew she help the Potter’s. She watched as the helpless look on Harry’s face turn into a small smile of gratitude and decided there and then she had made the right decision for the family. But whether it was the right decision for herself, that would only come to light over the course of time.
Who knows what's right?
The lines keep getting thinner
My age has never made me wise
But I keep pushing on and on and on and on.
Imagine Dragons - Nothing Left To Say
A/N: So, this idea came to me from absolutely nowhere and this is how it turned out. Not too sure about but I like Melody so I think I would like to carry on. I have a couple of more chapter written out so I am really tempted to keep this story going. Reviews would be absolutely welcome and any critique's you have, feel free to tell me. I am always after new ways to make my writing better.
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