Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

UnBroken	By : OddDoll Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 6172 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Unbroken
Chapter 18
By Odd Doll
Dr. Quon slapped his clipboard down on Severus's nightstand at precisely 8:00 a.m.
"Bet you didn't think healers worked on Saturday." His wand passed in front of Severus's face, making the bones of his skull vibrate and the skin itch.
"I hadn't really thought about it." His nose twitched and he felt he might sneeze.
The wand continued its journey down the bed, bringing the itchy tingle with it. It hovered over his right hand and knee, and his lower left leg.
"You can walk?"
"Not far."
"I imagine not, and not just due to your general weakness." Dr. Quon stowed his wand in the pocket of his white lab coat. "The bad news is you have four major repairs. Your right knee, left leg, your right hand and your nose. I have to break the leg and knee to reset them, but your hand is bad enough that I'm going to remove the bone and regrow it." The doctor peered down at him with a trace of a sadistic smile. "You know what that means?"
Severus gave the healer the satisfaction of seeing him scowl. "Skele-gro."
"That's right! There is good news. If your recovery from today's work goes as well as what we did on Thursday, I should be able to release you on Monday, like you wanted."
"Good."
"I have to make my rounds. I'll be back later this morning."
Severus picked up one of the magazines Phoebe had left for him and tried not to think about the fact that she had not shown up yet.
*****
The phone's insistent ring summoned Phoebe out of the shower on Saturday morning. She grabbed a towel and crossed to the phone by the bed, leaving soggy footprints on the carpet.
"Phoebe Baher," she said into the phone, noting that it was an in-house line.
"Yeah, this is Al, down at the guard shack? There are some folks here insisting they see you." Al, a former beat cop, sounded more annoyed than concerned.
"Who are they, Al?"
"Two guys in black suits, saying they're from MB Industries." His voice lowered and he whispered into the phone, "If you ask me, they look a lot like Feds."
Takes one to know one, Phoebe thought. "Let them in and give them a map to my suite."
Fifteen minutes later, she greeted two MBI aurors, who so resembled their FBI counterparts, from the dark suits and white shirts to the clean-cut wholesome profiles, that she had to suppress a laugh when she opened the door.
"Gentlemen." She held her wand out, ready for anything, although she doubted a troupe of Death Eaters would come to the front gate in a Muggle vehicle. "May I see some identification, please?" Phoebe considered it her professional duty to never make things too easy for these people.
The men, Borg and Timmins, settled on her couch and stared at the bondage apparatus still left out from the previous night. Between rinsing her hair, throwing on a suit, and ordering coffee and tea for three from the dining room, she had forgotten to tidy up. With a few flicks of her wand, she had everything stowed away and the men visibly relaxed.
"I have some coffee or tea for you, gentlemen."
"Thank you, ma'am," Borg said. "This is just a courtesy call. We received an alert from the Ministry of Magic in Great Britain. I'm sure you are aware of why we're here."
When they were all stirring and sipping, she said, "I had intended to visit you this morning, so you've saved me a trip."
"I assume you take this situation seriously, then," Borg said.
"Yes. Of course. Even if I hadn't hit her over the head with a tape recorder, I don't think Narcissa Malfoy was convinced that I didn't know where Mr. Snape was." She leaned back in her chair and considered what to say next. "Are you going to have some kind of manhunt for her? Or, rather, a witch hunt."
"No. We're quite concerned for your safety, but at this time our departments nationwide are hard-pressed to keep up with our own Death Eater problem."
"So what are you telling me?" The pleasant tone disappeared from her voice.
"While we would very much like to apprehend Narcissa Malfoy, she's not a threat to anyone but yourself." Borg adopted law enforcement jargon, which Phoebe took as a sign that he was uncomfortable giving her this news. "It is the considered opinion of our agency that you should find some place to lay low until she no longer represents a threat to you."
The hand holding her cup and saucer froze in mid-air, and her soft amber eyes took on an authoritarian stare.
"How long, exactly, do you think that will take?"
"We're still analyzing the data we have," Timmins said. It was almost the first time he spoke, but he possessed the same dry, no-nonsense manner of his partner. "The Malfoys have considerable assets in England, which she will be required to supervise."
"I was under two impressions. First, that Malfoy won't be able to show her face in Britain until her problem goes away. Second, this matter is highly personal for her." Phoebe set her cup and saucer on the coffee table. "I met this woman, gentlemen, and I have to say, she was scary. She walked into a Muggle police station in a witch's cloak and then into my interrogation as if it was her God-given right to be there. She has the kind of personal power that is not easily intimidated or scared off, and I doubt she's likely to give up if she believes it's her right or duty to punish someone for her husband's death."
Borg and Timmins exchanged a glance. "Speaking of which," Borg said, "do you know where Severus Snape is right now?"
"No."
Borg stared at her. Phoebe kept her expression calm and neutral.
"He's not a concern to us, of course. The Brits specifically didn't ask for our cooperation in his apprehension. I'm just concerned about you, Ms. Baher, and how much more danger you might have put yourself into."
Phoebe coughed, choking on the blatant hypocrisy. "Gentlemen, do you have any useful advice to offer?"
Borg and Timmins glanced at each other again. Timmins appeared a bit sheepish.
She didn't give them a chance to answer. "I can't walk away from my business. It won't run itself. I was considering hiring bodyguards. Do you know of any reputable persons or firms?"
"There are a few," Timmins said. "I can give you some names. You have to be careful, though. The ones that usually use these services are often working for...You-Know-Who and his types. If you stay with the list I give you, you should be okay, though." He took a leather-bound notepad from a pocket in his robe and started writing.
"I think that is a very good precaution, Mrs. Baher," Borg said.
And lets you off the hook.
"It's Ms. Baher. I use my maiden name. Do you have a Muggle-type photograph of Malfoy that I can give to the resort's security department? And some magical ones for the bodyguards?"
Timmins fumbled in his robes and drew out a briefcase. It grew larger as he laid it on the coffee table. He took out a manila folder and opened it to reveal a stack of photos of Narcissa Malfoy in jewel-studded robes. She smiled haughtily at the camera. "We can get more for you if you need them." He tapped the top photo, saying, "Congelo," and the figure froze.
"I know how to copy photos."
None of them had any more to say. After they left, she called her Security Chief and explained the situation in vague terms, but stressed the danger. She asked him to meet with all of the staff first thing on Monday morning and to distribute the photograph she would leave with him. The more eyes, the better, she thought.
- 17
- 18
- 19
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

UnBroken