Chapter Text
(A.N) Hey, it’s been a while. I was going back through my previous work on FF(dot)net and decided that I wanted to go back and rewrite this story. This time, however, I have a much better plan as to how I want this story to go.
Halloween night was the busiest night for the street. Children walking down the pavement with parents or siblings, dressed in all sorts of costumes. Doors were knocked and confectionery was distributed. Trick or treating wasn’t of interest for one sixteen year old girl out on the street that night.
Rebecca had one goal in mind, get to her friend’s house and get as drunk as possible. Having recently left school and started college, the other students had told her the joys of getting drunk on Halloween and being around friends. Friends was something she never really had growing up. Her mother had been seen as weird by the parents of the other kids at her school, always researching things but never talking about WHAT she was researching.
Being in college meant that she could keep her mother’s interest a secret from everyone else on her course. That meant that she could finally have friends. She was finally seen as herself and not an extension of her quirky mother. The quirky mother who she had stolen a bottle of white wine from.
She would never be able to tell you what the label was describing on the bottle, all she saw was a wine bottle and a percentage of alcohol by volume. Never having had the opportunity or want to drink before, she just grabbed the first thing she could. Her mother would notice the missing bottle in due time but she would just stick her phone on silent and deal with the consequences later.
Her thoughts were broken by the sound of said phone ringing. It was Cait, the cool eighteen year old girl who had taken her under her wing. Cait had finished college that year but decided that art was better than computer science and had come back to do another BTEC.
“You’ve reached Becca, please leave your message at the crack!” Rebecca said down the phone, before twisting open the screw top of the wine with a disappointing lack of cracking. “Balls…”
“Am I waiting for the crack or the balls?” Cait laughed in response. “Either way, I take it you got what you wanted?”
“No exactly, all I could get was this cheap bottle of white wine…”
“And you’re going to get started while walking?”
“Might as well… Unless you want me to accidentality spit my first drink in your face when it tastes like shit?”
“I’ve told you, you’re not my type, hun…” Cait replied, “How far out are you anyway?”
“I should be another few minutes or so.” Rebecca explained before taking a sip, “Ewww, you enjoy this shit?”
“I don’t know, I’ll have to look at the bottle when you get here. Anyway, just let yourself in when you get here! Love ya!” Cait called down the phone before the call ended.
Sighing, Rebecca took another sip before crossing over the road. She turned left down an alleyway when she first felt it. An internal burn at her stomach. Assuming this was normal, she stopped walking for a second to get accustomed to the feeling before she started walking again. After her first step, she felt the burn get so intense, it was like it was burning through her internal organs. The second step was her last before she dropped to the floor, gripping her stomach in the fetal position.
Hearing footsteps approaching her, she lifted her head with tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t fight through the pain to say more than just a simple beg for help. The figure responded with covering her mouth as she began to scream. The last thing she would ever know was the white hair of the figure and the sound as she shushed her to her death.
Harry Potter hated wearing smart clothes. It was a leftover from the war. It was hard to move easily in the trousers that Mrs. Weasley had picked out for him. However, he didn’t care about this since today was the most important date of his life so far. Way more important to him than when he killed Tom Riddle. No, today was the day that he was going to ask her that all important question.
Taking another look at himself in the mirror, he was horrified by what he was. He was covered in blood. Looking down at this hands, the blood dripped from his hands to his feet. There was a buzzing in the back of his head, getting louder and louder. The room was getting smaller and smaller until-
Harry sat up in bed with a start… It had been three years since that day and the nightmares were still as bad as the day it happened. Reaching for his wand, he disabled his alarm charm before shakily climbing out of bed.
Walking to the bathroom of his one bedroom flat, she slowly undressed and got into the shower. Allowing the hot water to wash down his body, he sent his thoughts of that day with it. He knew that he was needed in the ministry’s morgue that day as a muggle had been killed using an unknown poison.
Drying himself and getting ready for work – muggle clothing under his Auror robes – he stepped out of his flat and locked the door. He had bought the flat just after the war, wanting his own space for the first time in his life but not wanting to stay in the house he had inherited from Sirius.
Walking down the street, he stopped in at the coffee shop just around the corner from the ministry’s staff entrance and collected three coffees. One Latte, one white and one black. It was a little ritual that he had been doing since he got closer to the girls in the morgue. The Greengrass Sisters.
Daphne was the head of the morgue, having joined straight after Hogwarts. She handled the paperwork most of the time but she also handled reporting on anything potion based. Her sister, Astoria, on the hand was in charge of performing the actual autopsies.
Daphne had once joked to Harry – something the older girl very rarely did – that Astoria would rather have her hand in a man on the table than let a man have anything inside of her. Astoria, however, would argue that men just get uncomforted by how interested she is in the human body.
Stepping into the morgue with the coffees, Harry was greeted with the sight of the younger Greengrass slumped over her desk. Slipping the latte into her hand, he greeted her.
“Someone’s tired,” Harry remarked, “Late night?”
“Something like that…” Astoria responded before taking a sip of the caffeinated drink, “I went on that date last night…”
“Oh yeah?” Harry called from across the room as he placed the white coffee on her sister’s desk. “Wedding bells in the air?”
“Merlin no! The bastard kept trying to grab my arse the entire night.”
“I told you that dress was too short, ‘Tori!” Came the voice of Daphne as she walked into the morgue, giving Harry a nod. “You could practically see your vagina!”
“I’ll have you know, dearest sister.” Astoria retorted before looking Harry in the eye, “I only show that to those who deserve it!”
“And on that note,” Harry interrupted, an unprofessional image forming in his head. “I think it’s time you tell me about this case.”
“Boo!” Astoria stuck her tongue out at Harry while grabbing her file. “Sixteen year old female, Rebecca Franko. Found by her friend in the early hours of the morning. Muggle authorities have already rules out said friend as she has a solid alibi and she doesn’t have access to any materials that give off a magical signal.”
Astoria walked over to a see-through evidence bag with the wine bottle inside.
“This was found in her hand as well as her phone. Current theory is poisoning but we can’t be one hundred precent sure until Daph finishes off the report of her stomach contents… well, what’s left of her stomach.”
“Has her next of kin been informed?”
“Not yet, the muggles wanted to leave that to you.” Astoria gave him a sad smile.
“Well… I’ll get that over with. Always hated that part of the job.” Harry took the file from Astoria, “Thanks ‘Tori.”
“Anytime, Auror Potter.” Astoria’s smile widening at the thanks.
“You too… Daph.” Harry called towards the older girl. This was followed by a yell of frustration coming from Daphne’s office. “I’ll speak to you both later.”
“I look forward to it.” Astoria replied, which was a nicer response than the one that he received from Daphne.
“Fuck off, Potter!”
(A.N) And there we go, already about three times the size of the first chapter in the original. Please let me know what you think!