Without a Trace

Author's note--Hello again! Beware, this story is more twisted and fucked up than my normal stories (because it involves children...I'm a bad, bad person). NEITHER HARRY NOR DRACO DIE! You will have bigger worries, but I just wanted to put that particular problem to rest.

Also **WARNING** for other pairings besides Harry and Draco. I don't want to spoil the surprises, but just know that Harry and Draco ARE NOT together at the outset (but they will get together). There will also be very violent cliff-hangers.

It's based on the American TV drama "Without a Trace". The New York branch of the FBI's Missing Persons Unit reconstructs a 'Day of Disappearance' timeline to find out who the missing person is, so that they can find out where the missing person is.

And this one is the long-lost episode of Harry and Draco! YAY! If you've watched the series, I think they're on Season 5 in the US right now. (I'm living overseas, so I've missed out on most of Season 4 *sad*)

Within the WOaT series, this falls basically into Season 4, after Elena arrives to join the team. I think that Graham Spaulding killed himself, but I needed him alive and on the loose for this. If you don't know who Graham Spaulding is, you will.

Within Harry Potter, this is basically HBP compatible, I think, and I guess you could consider it an alternate ending. I think you'll figure it out once you start reading. Also, I have the majority of this one written, so I'll be posting a chapter a day (roughly).

My goal is for you to be able to see the episode playing in your mind, with the characters from both WOaT and HP being realistic in their interactions. Even if you aren't familiar with WOaT, I think you'll still enjoy it! And, as always, I do appreciate your reviews!
**********

Without a Trace

(opening scene)

Harry was just helping Lily and Molly get their light jackets on when his cell phone rang. The two little girls groaned in disappointment. Even at six years old, they knew what that sound meant: any plans they had with their daddy were about to be put on hold. Harry didn’t miss the regretful, emerald look that passed between his two precocious daughters, but he pulled his phone out of his pocket, sighing resolutely.

“Potter. Uh-huh. Alright, yeah, no, I’m just around the corner. I’ll be there in five. Yeah, no, talk to you.” He hung up, putting his arms around the female carbon copies of himself. “I’m sorry, girls. I’ll get Mommy to take you to the park to get ice cream.” He felt as sad as they looked. It was Saturday, the great American holiday—the Fourth of July—and he had been about to take his daughters to Central Park to get ice cream.

“But Daddy, we want YOU to take us,” Lily explained sadly, running her small hands over the tanned face. He was crouched down at their level.

“I know you did, princess. I’ll make it up to you, but right now, there is a family in trouble that I need to go help. You girls understand that, right?” Harry had taken great care to explain, in language they could relate to, that, as a Federal Bureau of Investigations special agent, his job was to find people who went missing and bring them back to their families, and that that sometimes meant he would have to leave suddenly, in cases of emergency (like this one), and he was proud that his two little girls handled it so well, even though he knew how disappointed they were.

“Yes, Daddy, we understand,” Molly told him, not being able to help pouting just a little. He pulled them both into a bear hug, kissing the tops of their heads, before extracting himself from the two small pairs of arms that never wanted to let him go and heading down the hall of their spacious New York apartment to the study. He knocked on the door lightly, even though it was partially open, and poked his head in. His wife was sitting at the desk, holding a full wine glass that she failed to hide when her husband looked in.

“I heard,” she snapped sharply. She watched his green eyes narrow as he stared at the alcohol. Merlin, she hated herself for loving him, and she hated him for not loving her back. “Don’t worry, I’ll take the girls. Like I always do.”

“Ginny, please!” Harry pleaded. “Not today. It’s a goddamn holiday, for Christ’s sake. Please keep it together. For the girls.” Ginevra Weasley Potter left the wine glass untouched as she stood up.

“Like you really care, Harry! You’ve never looked at me twice, so how the hell else do you expect me to get your attention!”

It was a familiar argument that Harry knew not to get sucked into. They had moved to the United States when the girls were five months old, and he knew Ginny resented him for not being able to finish her last year at Hogwarts, for moving them to a different continent (away from her entire family and all of her friends), and for being a workaholic. She had started drinking when the girls were two years old, as a ploy for attention, and their little family had suffered mightily. They had come to an understanding, and Harry trusted Ginny warily not to drink when he wasn’t home. He was uneasy about leaving the girls, but so far, nothing had happened to them or his wife.

He wasn’t in love with Ginny, and they both knew it. But Harry had gotten her pregnant quite by accident, and then had done the noble thing (but it was still unexpected, to everyone around them) by marrying her a month after his seventh year was finished. He knew that Arthur and Molly Weasley were beyond thrilled that their only daughter had snagged the Boy Who Lived, and practically died of elated heart attacks when she gave birth to their grandchildren, halfway through what should have been Ginny’s seventh year. They had been heartbroken when Harry announced their move, but they visited as often as they could. Harry sent his women over to England to visit their grandparents whenever Ginny wanted, even though he himself refused to set foot on that continent once he had left. Harry didn’t have any family left, except for his two best friends, Ron and Hermione, who were married and still living in London. The Weasleys were both Ginny’s and Harry’s family, and they came to New York as often as they could (which wasn’t very often, since they didn’t have much money and would only accept plane tickets from Harry for special occasions).

“Ginny, that’s not what is important right now, and you know it. I refuse to have this conversation with you. The girls are waiting for their ice cream, and I have to go,” Harry’s response was always the same. Ginny waited in anticipation for the acid remark that would follow; indeed, the only reason she even kept the wine glass around was just to get a rise out of Harry. She might have been lonely, miserable, depressed, and angry at him, but she wasn’t about to jeopardize the safety of her girls just to drown her sorrows in booze. “Don’t you dare drink while I’m gone.” And then he left the room, a couple of tears sliding down Ginny’s face as she heard the front door slam. It almost sounded as if he cared. Almost.

* * * * *

Draco Malfoy was trying his best to keep a cheerful smile on his face while he seethed on the inside. Luckily, he was a Slytherin, even though the unabashed happiness on his face wasn’t. The reason for that happiness was clinging to Draco’s hand, craning his head to stare in childlike amazement at the tall buildings and the crowds of people that made up New York City.

Parker James Malfoy was the three year old spitting image of his father, Lord Malfoy, and Pansy Parkinson Malfoy. They lived in absolute splendor and comfort in Malfoy Manor. Pansy and Draco had been more-or-less happily married for six years now, and according to the media, they were the richest, most beautiful, and therefore, happiest couple ever to have lived. The lie was perfectly crafted, and no one from the outside could have guessed just how backwards it really was. Voldemort had been dead for almost eight years, and Draco finally felt safe enough to take his family out from under the protective wards of the Manor. Since he had been proclaimed a traitor by the Dark Lord, even after his demise, the Death Eaters still haunted him, sending regular threats to his house. It had died down by the time his son was born, thankfully, but Draco and Pansy, the ever-paranoid Slytherins, refused to allow their son to go farther than the edge of the Malfoy gardens in his short, three-year-old life.

Being from pure-blood wizarding families, Draco and Pansy weren’t affectionate with each other, and in true Malfoy fashion, kept their separate wings of the house. They got along well enough, but there was no spark or passion in their married life. Pansy, after giving birth to Parker, had discreetly taken lovers. Draco knew and didn’t care, as long as the gits didn’t advertise it and didn’t interfere with his son. He half-heartedly kept tabs on them, even though most of them were the couple’s old Slytherin chums from Hogwarts. The most frequent lover of Pansy’s was Draco’s old best friend, Blaise Zabini, but the two didn’t talk much anymore. Blaise only glowered at Draco for reasons Draco didn’t care to find out. Nothing in the world mattered more to Draco than his son, Parker James, except for the inspiration for the boy’s middle name, but Draco kept a tight lip, allowing no one to question why his son’s middle name was randomly James. Parker was obvious; it was a derivation of Pansy’s maiden name. But to the rest of the world, Pansy included, Draco’s insistence on James for the middle name was foreign, even though Draco had his reasons.

Pansy had suddenly thrown a temper tantrum, saying that she was sick of staying in the house and expressed an intense desire to go on vacation. Draco was reluctant, but after his wife had told their son, and Parker had looked up at his father with big grey eyes, pleading, he knew he couldn’t bear to disappoint his little boy, even though he silently cursed Pansy for using her Slytherin manipulations. Parker was able to express his desires through typical three-year-old sentences, accompanied with lots of gesturing and unbridled giddiness, and he had made it very clear that he wanted to go see the apple. When pressed further, it was revealed that Pansy had apparently read Parker a book that talked about New York City being the Big Apple, and it had stuck in his little brain, and he showed just how purely Malfoy he was when he wanted his way to go see the Apple.

Draco found it annoyingly fitting that they would be in one of the largest cities in America for the country’s Independence Day, and he arranged for them to stay the entire month of July. When the Malfoys go on vacation, the Malfoys GO ON VACATION. He couldn’t entirely shake the creepy feeling that they shouldn’t go, but he chalked it up to being paranoid his entire life, opting for once to enjoy himself. There hadn’t been any attacks or even threats in over three years, and Draco was lulled into a false sense of security.

Currently, though, Draco and Pansy had alternated between holding their son’s hand and carrying him as they ventured around New York City on foot. Pansy was being unreasonable about wanting time alone to shop, and she and Draco had furious whispered arguments when they thought their son was sufficiently occupied. They were headed to Central Park, and Parker’s lips pursed into an awed “O” when they left the noise of the city behind to enter the leafy green area. Draco took obvious delight in his son’s unspoiled innocence, which helped to wipe away the animosity he felt for the boy’s mother. The map indicated that one of the largest toy stores in the world was just around the corner, so the trio headed to FAO Schwartz. Well, Draco and Parker headed to FAO Schwartz. Pansy realized that they were one block away from Tiffany’s, and she gave them both pecks on the cheek, hurrying away to shop. Draco was sick of fighting her, he decided, and more than happy to let her go, and he gathered his son into his arms as they stepped into the magic that was the toy store.

Parker promptly struggled to get down, and Draco followed him from display to display, laughing as Parker tried to play with everything. Since the boy was only three years old, he hadn’t displayed any magical abilities, but Draco wasn’t worried. They had agreed to live the Muggle way while in New York, even though they didn’t even use much magic at home, but that didn’t stop a Muggle version of a magical chemistry set from catching Draco’s eye. The Lord Malfoy loved Potions, and was quite good at them in his schooldays, and he was riveted by the box. He called to Parker to come back while he examined the outside of the box, losing track of time as he read the gimmicked statement. He chuckled, knowing that he had a better set of cauldrons and real ingredients, but the Muggle clichés of the wizarding world still amused him.

Draco put the box down, looking for the telltale platinum blonde locks as children and their parents milled all around him. He called Parker’s name, frowning, as he walked from aisle to aisle. Draco wasn’t prone to panicking, but his heart began to flutter wildly as he searched the faces, not seeing the familiar one. His voice got a little louder and a little more desperate as he retraced their steps, then ran to the other floors, until he was stopped by an FAO Schwartz employee who was well-aware of the signs of a panicking parent. Draco gave a hasty description of his son, pulling his wallet and thrusting the picture into the hands of the security guard who came to take over. He ran to the entrance of the store, wringing his hands as he was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people that passed by, oblivious to his terror.

Time passed in a blur for Draco; it seemed like mere seconds since his son disappeared, and yet, eternity as Draco lost his mind with worry. He was barely cognizant as he was questioned by the FAO security guard, then an NYPD officer, and he heard whispers of “FBI” even though he didn’t know what that meant. He sat in the Security Office for Lost Children at FAO Schwartz with his head buried in his hands, not caring about his surroundings. He felt as if he were spinning in endless circles as the floor was yanked out from under him…and Draco was falling…until the employee who had originally helped him touched him on the shoulder with a sympathetic look on her face.

“Sir, the FBI is here, and they’re going to take over now. They are very good at what they do, and they’re going to ask you some questions. Don’t worry, sir, they’ll find your little boy,” she reassured him, staring down into his hope-starved eyes. She left the room, nodding to the FBI agent that the father was in the room, but that he was rather disoriented and uncooperative. The FBI agent nodded briskly, stepping into the room and stopping short at the sight of familiar white blonde hair.

Draco looked at the floor as the girl left; she had been really nice to him, and he appreciated it. He still had no idea what the big deal was about the FBI, but, glancing up, he started violently, nearly falling off the chair. Draco’s mouth fell open as his eyes locked onto the emerald gaze that had haunted Draco’s dreams for the past fourteen years, and the first words that came to mind escaped his lips on accident.

“Oh, fuck.”

(cut to opening credits)
**********


Author's note--Okay, that will be the end of the "stage directions". Now, just think of the end of chapters as commercial breaks.

You'll meet the rest of WOaT soon, but I'll go ahead and give you brief intros here.

Jack Malone--head of the team. He is divorced; his wife and daughters live in Chicago. His new girlfriend, who is pregnant with their child, is also an FBI agent, but in a different division. He's a white male in his forties (I think). Jack makes mistakes, makes and breaks rules at whim, and plays the 'bad cop'. But he gets results and saves people. Before his divorce, he and Samantha had a brief, secret, sexual fling.

Vivian Johnson--second in command. Her son, Reggie, is in high school (by now, I think). She lives with her son and husband. She's in her forties as well (black woman). Vivian is the 'mother' of the group, but she also doesn't hesitate to speak her mind and put you in your place.

Samantha Spade--the blonde. Sassy, street-smart, and blonde, Sam is currently single, although she had romantic relationships with both Jack and Martin at different points in the series. She is protective and headstrong and trigger-happy. Samantha is in her early thirties, Caucasian, with dark blonde hair and brown eyes.

Danny Taylor--the wise-ass. Hispanic by birth, Danny speaks English and Spanish fluently. His father was an abusive alcoholic, which drove Danny's older brother to be a criminal, until their parents were killed in a car accident. Danny helped his brother straighten out, and he always has a joke or a sarcastic comment ready. He didn't like Martin at first, but now, the two hot guys make a dynamic duo. Danny usually plays the 'bad cop' and isn't afraid to get down and dirty. He has a steady girlfriend who is a big-shot lawyer (okay, this is the one non-WOaT character, because it's ME!)

Martin Fitzgerald--the American hero. Martin is the epitome of the wholesome, clean-cut, all-around good guy. He has short hair and killer blue eyes. He can be crude when Danny's around to lead off, but he's mostly just a sweetheart. Martin's father is the Deputy Director of the FBI and lives in Washington, D.C., which Martin hates because sometimes his co-workers feel like he gets special treatment for being the Director's son. He had a fling with Sam in the past, but it didn't work out. They are still friends, though.

Elena Delgado--the former cop. Elena is also Hispanic, and like Danny, she speaks both English and Spanish fluently. She and Danny sometimes slip into Spanish, especially if they argue. Elena used to be a vice cop, and now she's an FBI agent. She has dark hair and dark eyes, and she and Samantha together look like two of Charlie's Angels. Elena is single, but I'm pretty sure that she and Danny dated at some point in the past (but I'm with Danny now!) so they are more or less friends. She is feisty and outspoken, but Elena also has a compassionate streak.

and last, but absolutely not least--

HJ Potter--the new kid. HJ moved to New York with his wife and twin daughters about six years ago. He is very secretive about his past, even though his team has watched his girls grow up. He has green eyes and thick black hair that he arranges to cover the scar on his forehead. He refuses to answer questions about his past; he won't even tell them what "HJ" stands for. Everyone knows there's 'something' about him. He's the newest and youngest member of the team. No one knows how he got the job because Martin's dad basically walked HJ into the office and passed him off to Jack. He was eighteen but turned nineteen within his first couple of weeks on the job. HJ is quiet but earnest, and his instincts are almost uncanny. His emerald eyes have a slightly haunted look that he tries to hide, and the office as a whole is shocked that he is so young, with children, and working a job that most agents (like his co-workers) don't aspire to until their 30's.

WOO HOO! I really hope you liked the first chapter, and I hope you'll come back for more!