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Author's Note: Attempt #4 at uploading this chapter. Thank you to thyrokio, Aelfwine, Concealed-Convict, pettybureaucrat, Cateagle for your reviews. I appreciate your comments.

Chapter Two - To The Rescue

With his note to Ginny sent off by Ministry owl, Harry left the mailroom and wandered back to the DMLE floor. However, instead of returning straight to his desk at the Auror Office, he stopped at a different door in the corridor, the only one without a visible handle. Using his wand, Harry ran the tip along the seal of the closed door until a click was heard, at which point the door swung open letting him enter. The open door revealed a long storage room with a desk sitting by the entrance and rows upon rows of shelves and racks filled with clothes and other odds and ends behind the desk.

Manning the desk was an old friend from the Order of the Phoenix days, Hestia Jones. She looked up from her workstation at Harry's entrance. “Hey, handsome. Did Merlin hear my cries and send you to me?”

“Evening, Hestia,” said Harry, greeting the leering dark-haired witch. “It hasn't been that long has it?”

Hestia glared at Harry. “Ever since I was moved to the evening shift, I haven't seen hide or hair of you. Nor anyone else for that matter. Does anyone in this building do night operations anymore?”

Harry reached over and patted her hand comfortingly. “I'd offer to talk to your boss about it, but I know you'd hex me if I did. If it's any consolation, lunches just aren't the same without you. Ron rarely sticks around and whenever I'm eating alone Romilda from HR pops up and offers me treats that I have no idea whether they're safe or not. It can be such a headache.”

“Good,” replied Hestia. “You deserve to suffer as well. Not even visiting me.”

“Ginny would kill me if I stayed here working late. It's hard enough to spend time together with our busy schedules without us adding to the separation ourselves.”

“Seeing as you are here and it is late, I'm guessing this is not a social call. What can I do for you, hun?” said Hestia, a twinkle in her eye.

Harry nodded, leaning over the desk. “I'm in need of a dingy, threadbare outfit that no one would notice missing for a few days. Ideally something Dung would be caught wearing.”

“Hush hush, huh,” Hestia murmured to herself as she stood up from her desk and walked into the rows of disguises behind her. She stopped briefly when she noticed Harry hadn't moved and motioned for him to follow her. “Can I ask why you want this off the books?” she asked when he caught up to her.

Harry sighed before handing over the green flyer McGonagall had given to him earlier that night. “I've been asked to check up on a friend in need and help her out if I can.”

Hestia's eyes widened as she read the flyer. “Not exactly a place you go for a chat,” she commented.

“Exactly,” agreed Harry. “That's why I think you'll agree that my plan to blend in with the crowd and look like a randy bum would work best with something from here and not from my own wardrobe.”

“We can try,” replied Hestia. “But no matter how shabby a costume we find, your lovely eyes will still stand out. I doubt even concealing charms will be able to hide those gems.”

She thoroughly enjoyed the blush that rose on Harry's cheeks but pushed on with the task, taking the opportunity to size up Harry before handing the flyer back and continuing on down the seemingly endless rows of shelves. After a few more sections were walked through, they found themselves stopping at the end of one that from the looks of it was rarely used due to the cobwebs and dust covering the shelves in the area.

“Here we are,” Hestia announced, waving at the dusty shelf in front of them. “These are some of the dingiest outfits we have in the department. These were mostly used during the first war and after his run-in with you as a baby, they were pretty much forgotten about. Like most of what is here in the Department of Disguise.”

“That's terrible,” said Harry. “I'm sure there is some great stuff in here that will never see the light of day again.”

Hestia nodded in agreement. “Everyone seems to rely more on concealment charms than old school disguises these days. Thankfully the Death Eaters never figured out how to enter this area when they took over the Ministry.”

Harry frowned at the memory. “Unfortunately this might be the only department that can claim that. Ginny's dad was just telling me last week how his department is still trying to fix messes left from those days. It's why I think this will work so well. Hiding in plain sight is a lost art.”

He reached forward and grabbed the items he'd need that night: a ratty cloak, a set of worn robes, and other small accessories that most would overlook but that helped with the overall look Harry wanted to portray.

Hestia let him take whatever he wanted, offering comments and suggestions when she thought it was needed. Harry found everything he figured to need in only a few minutes and stuffed his choices into a satchel he had brought with him.

“You could change here if you'd like,” offered Hestia, wetting her lips. “To save time you know.”

Harry laughed. “I wouldn't want to torture you, Hestia.”

“But it would be oh, so good,” she pouted cutely.

Harry rolled his eyes but did move and close the gap between them, leaving a kiss on Hestia's pink cheeks while embracing her. “Thanks, I owe you one.”

Hestia shivered slightly when he pulled away. “I'll hold you to that.”

Harry flashed her a smile before turning and heading back towards the front of the room. “Ginny and I will invite you over for dinner next week,” he promised over his shoulder.

“How about just for dessert?” she shouted back, a smirk on her lips.

Harry laughed loudly, the echoes filling the room with his sound until the very moment he exited, leaving behind a wistful Hestia Jones with her work.

*

The Leaky Cauldron was filled to the brim with wizards and witches winding down their day with drinks and supper when Harry arrived using the Floo Network. Stepping out of the fireplace, he now resembled more a Knockturn Alley regular than himself thanks to the slouching posture and the secondhand wardrobe. Even Tom, the proprietor of the Leaky Cauldron did not give him a second glance, shrugging him off like any other nameless wizard.

Holding his shabby cloak closer to his body, Harry ventured out of the Leaky Cauldron and into the cool night, walking down the cobbled road of Diagon Alley. Many of the shoppes were closed for the day leaving the area free of foot traffic for the most part. Other than Gringotts Bank, only eateries like the Leaky Cauldron could be counted on having crowds at night.

As he ventured into the deeper parts of Diagon Alley the atmosphere visibly changed from the family friendly daytime crowd to a darker, more adult scene. Harry made sure his hood was hiding his face and kept moving forward, not giving anyone a chance to slow him down.

Turning into Knockturn Alley, Harry found himself passing several shoppes that were on Auror watch lists for suspicious activity and the clientele they attracted. As expected, there were no Aurors watching the places at this time of night. That was how things were in the Wizarding World; the Ministry held a passive attitude towards Knockturn Alley after the sun set. Everyone understood the unwritten rule of no violence and didn't dare test the limits to find out the repercussions should it be crossed.

It turned out to be easy to find where the Creature Club was being hosted in Knockturn Alley that night. Right in an area where Harry remembered an empty lot being instead stood a nondescript building with a sizable line standing out front. Finding a wait to enter the Creature Club wasn't a surprise to Harry. It was after all a secret invite-only event, so naturally every hormonally charged wizard – and even some witches – knew about it and wanted to get in.

Those that could afford the outrageous entrance fee would find a newly conjured pass in their possession, but there were few that had the Galleons needed for that method. Some begged, others pleaded and a few would even try to con their way in, but eventually they were all dealt with quickly by the goblin guards that handled security for the Creature Club.

Seeing how long the line was, Harry thought briefly about using his Auror badge to remove the wait but he knew keeping a low profile in this situation was a must and that the goblins probably wouldn't care for his interfering. As famous as he was, Harry being revealed at the Creature Club would bring a lot of attention, and especially in Knockturn Alley that could only lead to trouble. And the last thing Harry wanted was to be in this place longer than he needed to be.

Thoughts of heading home to his waiting wife's welcoming arms afterwards brought a smile to Harry's lips. Unfortunately for him, a scantily clad witch standing nearby interpreted his pleased look differently. The tight, low-cut scarlet red robes she wore revealed a lot about the witch and her intentions. Her breasts were pressed together and gave off a tantalizing view of cleavage; the hem of her robes ended high on her thighs, showing off her legs and the matching boots she walked in.

The witch strutted across the lane, enticing whistles from the wizards waiting in line as she closed the distance between Harry and herself faster than he could react.

“Hi there,” she said, stepping into Harry's personal space and flashing a dazzling smile. “I know a way to keep that smile on your face. It involves me getting to know your wand.”

Leaning away but still making sure his hood was keeping his features mostly hidden, Harry smiled politely and gently pried the witch's hand off his chest where it was rubbing him. “Sorry, I don't let strangers handle my wand.”

“But I'm not a stranger anymore now that we've met, right?” she countered. When she failed to entice a favorable response from Harry, her seductive demeanor cracked. “What do you think you'll find in there? Friends with those freaks are you?!”

Harry grimaced at her increase in volume and moved to prevent a commotion. “This is their last night in Britain,” he explained.

The scarlet witch frowned for a moment before making one last attempt at Harry, giving a not so subtle squeeze to his crotch. “I can make your fantasies come true.”

Harry moved her hand away from his growing arousal and slipped a handful of galleons into it at the same time. “I appreciate the offer, but I'm really only here to see a friend.”

The witch's eyes widened in surprise as the galleons shifted around in her hand and she counted how much he'd given her. Realizing that she had received an entire night's haul from one conversation, she leapt into Harry's arms and delivered a passionate kiss.

“Aren't you just a sweetie!” she purred into his ear before stepping back with a small smile and disappearing from the area.

Harry shook his head in disbelief while using one of the sleeves of his robe to wipe whatever remnants of the enthusiastic witch's lipstick might be on his face. Relief followed shortly once Harry realized that the disguise had made it through a close encounter without a snag. While it apparently didn't hide his modest looks, the witch had been clueless to the fact that she had been propositioning the former Boy-Who-Lived.

Still recovering from that distraction Harry didn't notice how quickly the line had moved until the moment he was prodded by the staff of one of the goblin guards.

“Pass or pain?” it queried, sharp teeth gleaming from its vicious grin.

“Oh, uh ...” Harry stumbled with his words while frantically patting down his ratty robes for the green flyer that had started the whole mess. Upon finding it, Harry handed over the flyer to the guard.

The goblin glanced at the parchment quickly and stamped it just as fast, handing it back to Harry and motioning him through the velvet rope entrance of the Creature Club.

*

Once inside the building Harry was immediately hit with the dank smells of alcohol, sex and drugs that permeated the dimly lit room. Passing a secondary group of goblins – a mix guards and management – Harry was presented with a better view of the Creature Club and its activities.

There were three dancing stages spread out in the cavernous room: one main stage that was the largest and currently empty, and two smaller stages on the sides of the room that were each occupied by a topless female dancing under twinkling lights. Tables and chairs surrounded the stages, filled with rough and rowdy wizards who took turns between yelling slurs at the dancers and throwing spells or drinks at them. Taking notice of the gleaming fangs and the pale skin of the dancers as well as the insults that were being yelled by the wizards, Harry suspected that the women were of vampiric origin.

Closer to the entrance and away from the stages was a large bar area that was being operated by five house-elves. They popped in and out of existence every few moments as they took care of the orders being thrown at them by those at the bar and throughout the room. The walls were lined with booth seats that were spelled darkened when occupied to give a level of privacy for those that choose to sit in them and indulge in activities with the workers of the Creature Club.

Deciding that one of those booths would give him the best concealment, Harry weaved his way through the crowd towards one that held a good view of the room and its stages so he would be able to keep an eye out for this former Gryffindor that needed his help. Since entering he had yet to recognize anyone he had crossed paths with, be they worker or patron.

Harry surveyed the room and noticed that while the two female vampires danced on the side stages, there were numerous other females mingling with the crowd of wizards, each looking for a paying participant. A few of them had gleaming silvery hair that reminded Harry of his sister-in-law, Fleur Weasley, were giving lap dances to nearby wizards. A few tables over, wizards surrounded one table where a large nude woman – a giantess – sat and they groped and fondled her while she moaned and enjoyed their touches.

A set of goblin guards routinely patrolled the room, prodding a wizard every so often with the ends of their staffs and dragging out those that were too inebriated to pay and play anymore. A noise from above made Harry look up and discover a group of thick metal cages that hung from the ceiling. Inside each one was a disheveled woman wearing tattered robes on her hands and knees making growling sounds at the crowd below. Harry had seen cages like that before in the Ministry being melted down and knew immediately that the women must be werewolves. Their feral attitude and actions conveyed a sense of rough treatment that was evident with them still being caged that night and the full moon having happened almost a week before.

When the runway lights of the main stage turned on and a spotlight hit the stage curtain, the werewolves' movements inside their cages increased, creating a loud rattling that drowned out the crowd noise below. Moon Walk, the latest song from the Wizarding band, Twilight, blared out into the room and brought everyone's attention to the main stage.

A lone bare leg emerged from between the curtains, bringing a hush over the crowd as anticipation grew. The spotlight switched off and a strobe light took its place, signaling the start of the routine as the dancer burst free from the curtains and strutted down the stage.

Harry was mesmerized by the woman as she danced in rhythm with the song, shaking her hips and twisting her body in incredibly erotic ways. From his seat, Harry could only see one side of the dancer, but from the glimpses of flawless skin, her light hair and his inability to take his eyes off her movements he assumed she was part Veela.

He was so entranced by the dancer's display that he did not notice he was no longer the sole occupant of his booth until he felt light breathing on the back of his neck and a light warm body brushing up against his arm.

“Welcome to the Creature Club,” whispered a gentle, female voice into his ear, while a small hand reached down to stroke his thigh. “I am the Warrior Maiden. How can I service you? A drink or the works?”

Harry turned to the voice and found a young female with pale skin and long dark hair facing him with a desirous look on her face. She was unabashedly topless and appeared to be kneeling to get as close as she was to Harry in his seat. Harry gulped, finding his throat suddenly parched. “A shot of firewhiskey would be fine, er – Miss Maiden?”

She flashed a genuine smile at Harry's politeness and quickly stood with the grace of a gazelle. She nodded and moved to turn but hesitated to say one last thing to Harry before leaving to get his drink. “Don't be so formal,” she gently chided him. “You may call me Farfalla.”

Harry was further surprised when Farfalla turned and her equine lower half came into his vision, her tail whacking his chest lightly before she trotted off. The idea that he had just been propositioned by a centaur and a young one at that stunned Harry. He doubted she had reached full maturity yet, but he didn't remember learning much about centaurs at Hogwarts outside of meeting Firenze and some of the males from the herd living in the Forbidden Forest. It was common to find female centaurs kept near their homes and young. The fact that Farfalla worked at the Creature Club instead of living with her herd did concern Harry.

His musings were interrupted when the young centaur returned to his booth. She pranced over with his drink, which he quickly downed. Harry nearly choked as he swallowed, not so much from the strength of the drink but the hand that took advantage of Harry's movements and had skillfully eased its way inside his robes.

He stopped her adventurous hand but did pull her closer to him, withdrawing themselves fully from the view of others in the room while doing his best to ignore how soft her chest felt against his side. Farfalla misunderstood his actions, letting out a soft whinny and moving quickly to lick his cheek and nuzzle his neck.

His grip on her shoulders tightened, halting her amorous actions and getting her attention. “Listen Farfalla, I appreciate the attention, but I am actually in need of some information more than anything else and I'd be very generous if you could help me out.”

She looked confused at the mood change but her eyes widened in surprise when Harry slipped a small leather pouch filled with coins into her hand.

“There are around one hundred galleons in there,” whispered Harry. “It's all I have on me at the moment and I think you can put it to better use than I. All I ask is if you tell me if any of these witches work here.”

Farfalla nodded and looked on curious and doe-eyed while Harry placed a slip of parchment onto the booth table. Written on it were a list of females; only their first names to keep it discrete and only names belonging to Gryffindors during Harry's time at Hogwarts.

The young centaur read the list twice over before putting her finger down on one of the names. “She works here, but doesn't use her real name outside of us girls. She uses a show name while working: The Beauxbatons Bitch.”

Harry leaned in, his eyes widening at the name Farfalla's finger was resting on. “And where would I find her?”

“Well, she was just on stage,” Farfalla answered offhandedly before taking a look around the large room.

Harry looked out to the main stage where a fully transformed Veela strutted around in her birdlike form tossing small fireballs into the air and the crowd. “So that wasn't a Veela that was dancing earlier?”

Farfalla shook her head. “No, she was the one you are looking for. She is quite beautiful but her abnormalities distance her from the Veela. If she is not on stage or walking around she must have found a client.”

“A client?” Harry queried. “Can you show me where the private dance area is? It's urgent that I speak to her tonight before the club leaves Britain.”

Farfalla leaned close and looked at Harry intently for a moment, searching for any sign of dishonesty and finding none. “These booths are where private dances are given,” she answered simply.

Interrupting the teasing attitude the young centaur had maintained throughout the conversation was the sudden appearance of a sad smile. “Having a client, means engaging in carnal relations with a paying customer and at times they can aren't so gentle.”

“Oh.” Harry was speechless and unable to maintain eye contact with Farfalla, instead looking off into the crowd. “Should I wait here then?”

“If you stay here for much longer, I will have to perform for you at the very least,” she replied. “The goblins do not like it if visitors do not spend money. And they easily resort to violence. I'd rather not see someone as nice as you deal with that so if you want to see your friend I will take you to her.”

Stepping out of the booth, Farfalla held out her hand to Harry and helped him up. Closing her arm around his waist, she nuzzled his neck for a moment before whispering into his ear. “Go with it, we must look like you are my client.”

Harry nodded and leaned against her as she led him through the room. The crowd parted as they walked, most of the wizards giving the two of them nasty looks. He figured Farfalla had trouble finding 'clients' from the reactions they were getting. Her species was clearly an acquired taste for any non-centaur customers.

They soon found themselves in front of a set of obsidian double doors that was guarded by a heavyset giant. When Harry and Farfalla finally gained his attention, the giant's eyebrows rose at seeing the female centaur with a prospective client. Harry, feeling the need to convince the giant of their intentions moved his hand down Farfalla's equine body and in response she whinnied with pleasure from his strokes and pats.

The giant chuckled at their actions and pulled apart the doors, waving the seemingly amorous duo through. Once they moved past the doorway and were out of sight of the giant, the petting stopped. Farfalla ignored the heated blush that had appeared on her face, making sure to grab Harry's hand and started to lead him through the corridor that was practically a maze filled with twists and turns every few feet.

They passed dozens of couplings between dancers and clients; the narrow hall was filled with sounds of both pleasure and pain at every turn. Staying focused on following Farfalla and looking straight ahead, it surprised Harry when they came to the end of the hall where stood a wooden door.

Harry turned to ask Farfalla what was behind door but his question died on his lips with the shake of her head. She pulled open the door just enough to stick her head through the opening. Harry kept silent and tried to concentrate on hearing anything from the other side but was distracted by Farfalla's twitching tail brushing up against him. When she finally glanced back in at Harry she wore a small amused smile at his frustrated look and let out a soft giggle.

“The coast is clear,” she announced, pulling Harry through the doorway.

The other side turned out to be the back lot of the Creature Club. The area was dimly lit, small and mostly filled with rubbish bins and empty crates. Wondering why they were in this secluded area, Harry turned to ask Farfalla when a large crash farther down the lot drew their attention.

Harry moved in front of Farfalla and headed towards the sounds, the sounds emanating from that area grew in volume the closer he moved. The sounds became easier to discern with his increasing proximity and it was clear that yells and moans accompanied the loud banging. When the disturbance finally came into view, Harry's alarm grew to frightening heights and it was only Farfalla's surprisingly strong grip that kept him from jumping into the fray.

To his dismay, Farfalla had indeed led him to the witch he was looking for but at the moment she was in the midst of servicing two clients. She was naked but even the dim lighting of the lot revealed numerous scars covering half of her body along with several bleeding cuts and bruises. She was on her hands and knees with two males surrounding her, groping and fondling her body roughly. One stood behind her, hands on her hips and thrusting ruthlessly into her while the other was in front of her, whipping her back with magical lashes from his wand while he was pleasured orally.

The two clients were so focused on brutally fucking the witch that they did not notice the pair of angry green eyes looking on from the shadows. Farfalla's attempts to keep Harry from interrupting held him back for only so long, and she could not stop him from acting when he realized the witch was not so much participating anymore as was being held up and abused instead.

Stepping out of the shadows Harry immediately used a powerful stunning charm on the man in front, knocking him out. He then sent a disarming charm at the other, blasting him against the wall and into unconsciousness. With no one left to hold her up anymore, the witch collapsed to the ground. Lying still, it was only her faint wheezing that let Harry know she was still breathing.

He quickly moved to the fallen witch, Farfalla right behind him. Ignoring the shocked centaur's gasps for the moment, Harry rolled the witch onto her side and ran his wand down her back in an effort to clear her lungs and aid her breathing. While handling the witch, Harry's hands and robes became covered with blood and dirt.

“Is she the friend you look for?” Farfalla asked quietly, kneeling next to Harry.

With the witch's unsteady breathing beginning to settle, Harry felt safe in rolling her onto her back. He pushed aside the witch's sweaty dirty-blonde hair, uncovering a gentle face laced with scars on one side. “Yeah, I think so at least,” he replied grimly. “It's been a few years.”

His voice along with his gentle touch awakened the witch for a moment. Her eyes flickered open and she started shakily at Harry. “You shouldn't have done that,” she whispered. She struggled visibly to stay awake but the ordeal was too much for her and she passed out in Harry's care.

Confused by the admonishment, Harry looked to Farfalla for answers.

“Her clients,” she replied. “When they come to they will complain to the goblins and your friend will be punished severely. She would be forced to regain their favor for no charge.”

Harry shook his head. “That's not going to happen, she's safe now.”

Shrugging his cloak off, Harry handed it to Farfalla to wrap around the witch's nude body while he stood up to deal with the clients he had disposed of earlier. Reaching the fallen bodies, Harry whipped out his wand and used a powerful memory charm on each, erasing the witch and the encounter from their minds completely.

Turning back to the two women, Harry lifted the unconscious witch into his arms with Farfalla's help. Once she was secure in his arms, he turned to the kind female centaur.

“I can't thank you enough, Farfalla,” said Harry. “I'm going to get her out of here and to a safe place. And I'd like to you to come with us.”

He could tell she was startled by the offer but she eventually flashed a bright smile at Harry. “It's not as bad for me as it is for her kind. I'm a rare breed and not allowed to be mistreated. Besides, someone will need to cover for your friend so that the goblins do not discover her disappearance until after we leave Britain tomorrow morning.”

She turned to leave but was stopped by Harry's hand on her shoulder. “My name is Harry. Harry Potter.”

Farfalla followed his hand as he lifted back his hood, swept away the fringe of hair covering his forehead and uncovered his famous scar. Stunned speechless by the revelation, Farfalla settled for embracing Harry.

“Remember my offer; if the time ever comes that you need it. You can reach me through Britain's Auror Office or send me an owl,” noted Harry.

Seeing Farfalla shiver, he rubbed her arms briefly to generate warmth. “We've been in the cold too long, Farfalla. Get back in there and stay safe.”

The female centaur nodded and turned towards the door leading back to the Creature Club, her dark hair swishing behind her as she moved. Harry waited until the door closed behind her before deciding it was time to leave. Taking one last look around to make sure nothing was being left behind; Harry tightened his hold on the witch in his arms and Apparated out of the dark alley.

*

The wards of 12 Grimmauld Place recognized Harry's incoming arrival by Side-Along Apparition and granted him entrance, allowing him to arrive easily in the master bedroom without any hassle. Landing firmly on his feet, Harry made sure his passenger was also alright before looking around for his wife.

Knowing he would need Ginny's help upon his arrival, Harry had chosen their bedroom to arrive in figuring she would be there this late into the night. Not seeing Ginny in the room would have been worrying had Harry not heard the water running from the adjacent bathroom.

“I'm home, Ginny,” announced Harry. “And I brought a guest.”

“That's great, Harry,” chimed Ginny's voice from the bathroom. “So you were able to help whoever McGonagall asked you to?”

Harry looked down at the unconscious woman in his arms. “Somewhat.”

Ginny emerged from the bathroom in a fluffy green bathrobe, looking down while she towel-dried her hair. “What do you mean –”

She gasped when she looked up to find Harry still in his dirty disguise standing in the middle of their bedroom carrying a bruised and bloody woman in his arms.

“Oh, Merlin!” exclaimed Ginny, moving to Harry's side. “Is she alright?”

“Not really,” frowned Harry, adjusting his arms around the witch. “She was being abused when I finally found her.”

“Put her down over here, Harry,” said Ginny, directing Harry towards their bed.

Once he put the woman down on top of their comforter, Ginny pushed him out of the way and started running basic diagnostics with her wand. While she checked out their guest, Harry moved over to their wardrobe to shed his disguise.

Satisfied with the test results, Ginny grabbed her towel and used it to wipe up as much dirt and blood off of the woman as she could. When she reached the head area she tried to discern the woman's identity. Pushing aside the woman's blonde hair, Ginny bit back tears when she felt scars on the side of the woman's face. They sparked an old memory from the final battle against Voldemort at Hogwarts nearly a decade before.

“This can't be,” she whispered aloud.

“What?” Harry asked.

Ginny looked over to her husband in shock. “Is that Lavender Brown?”