Reborn As A Squib In Harry potter

I raised an eyebrow at that, wondering what he meant, until it clicked. "You're related to the assholes who kidnapped Delilah," I realized. "You're not just jackboots for hire, you're part of some criminal group, who also has ties to somebody that knows her and the Finch-Fletchleys."

The smirk slid off of the man's face at that, and he leveled a neutral stare my way as he slid some documents on the table over to me.

"Sign," he ordered, and I picked up one of the sheets of paper to examine it. There was a lot of legalese that made my eyes glass over, but what I managed to glean from it and the other files was that I was basically selling my company and all of its intellectual property to them at dirt cheap prices.

"This is ridiculous," I muttered, and tore the sheet of paper I was reading in two. The balding man – whose name still remained unknown – glared angrily and I heard the two thugs behind me shift.

I stayed calm and glared right back, and eventually Mr. Balding stood up.

"It seems you've accidentally torn the document," he said smoothly. "I shall fetch another copy."

He then left the room, leaving the two goons to guard me. I could escape at any time, of course. Calling for Inky and having him pop me away as soon as the goons weren't looking would be easy-peasy. Heck, even if they gagged me I could still call for him through the magical bond we shared. But I wanted to know who was behind this, so I held off on summoning the elderly House Elf. I had my suspicions, but I'd find out later.

'The real problem is if this place has any security cameras,' I mused to myself, doing my best to glance around without moving neck, lest I give away my intentions to the duo guarding me. 'I don't think it does, kidnappers probably wouldn't want there to be evidence of their misdeeds left behind like that, but who knows?'

After a bit of discreet looking, I'd found no security cameras on the walls or ceiling in front of me, nor could I recall seeing any in the hallway or parking lot. I decided to act.

"Inky. Stun these men."

The two grunts made noises of confusion at my words. A second later, however, a loud "Pop!" rang out before they fell silent, and I looked over my shoulder at my loyal House Elf.

"Thank you, Inky," I said.

"It is no problem, Young Master Eddy," Inky replied with a bow. As he did, he glared in disgust at the two men who'd kidnapped me where they lay on the floor, unconscious.

"Do you wish to leave this nasty place, Young Master?" Inky inquired.

"No, not yet," I replied, walking over to the desk to inspect it. I wasn't expecting to find anything important, but I wanted to know if Mr. Balding had left some clues to his or his employer's identity.

"Let's see, empty drawers… and the documents could have been printed anywhere," I mused to myself, disappointed when I found absolutely nothing. "Inky, take their wallets and put them on the desk for me. Oh, and get mine too as well, please."

He did so, and I was able to look through their contents a moment later. To my frustration, they had no ID's on them to tell me who they were. They didn't have credit cards or checkbooks, either. But they were flush with cash, each having several hundred pounds on their person.

"I'm taking these," I decided, swiping their money. It was petty, but they'd earned it for kidnapping me.

As I did, I thought a bit about what Mr. Bald had said to me earlier. It was clear they'd researched my background to an extent, so did that mean they knew about some of the other public parts of my life?

"If the kidnappers know about my relationships with the Finch-Fletchleys and Delilah, they also have to know about Harry and Sam, and their families," I muttered to myself. Hot anger at the thought of them being harassed or assaulted filled my veins, and I stomped down on it with Occlumency. I couldn't afford to lose my cool.

"Can you clean up the windows? Or at least one of them? I want to know where I am," I requested as I put a lid on my emotions.

Inky snapped his fingers, and bubbles magically foamed up all over the window panes. Then, Inky conjured some floating sponges, which attacked the blacked out glass in a wild frenzy.

The paint – at least, I assume it was paint – slowly began to fade, but not in time to really make a difference, as halfway through the cleaning, the door opened up, admitting Mr. Balding to the room.

He blinked, taken aback by the sight of his two bruisers lying unconscious in front of the desk, a tiny gremlin waving his hands like a maestro, controlling a bunch of levitating sponges, and me, rifling through his desk.

We stared at each other for a few seconds, but I recovered and reacted first, drawing a Stunner Ofuda and tossing it at the man. It zipped through the air like a red blur and slapped into his forehead, knocking him backwards. He hit the floor with a harsh "THUD!" and I winced.

"Hopefully he doesn't get a concussion," I muttered, before shaking my head. "No, what's more important is getting him to forget he saw Inky. Can't risk him remember that after he wakes up. Same with the goons, just in case."

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