Harry Potter wasn't in a terribly familiar place. Surrounded by tall pines, the scent of sap and decay filled his nose. The dim light of a waning crescent moon filtered through the needles and the light mist, doing very little to illuminate his surroundings as his feet gingerly plodded forward on the soft, peaty ground.

"Where, the…" Harry began to think, but was interrupted by a soft voice echoing throughout the trees.

"Harry…" the voice called out, seemingly no louder than a whisper.

It was a familiar voice, but he could not quite place it. It was like Hermione's without the severity, or Ginny's without the playfulness. Like Luna's, but more grounded, deeper. Certainly feminine, but androgynous enough to make him question it.

"Harry…" the voice repeated.

With that, an inviting hand suddenly emerged through the darkness in front of him. Without hesitation, he grabbed onto it gently and held on.

"You need to see this." The voice said, no longer echoing. It was clearly right in front of him and no doubt belonged to the owner of the hand he was holding, but still, it maintained an ethereal, silky quality to it.

Guided by the unseen, he continued forward until the trees began to thin and the ground grew harder. He began to see a faint glow in the distance.

"Look down." The voice implored.

And as he did, he could see that he was at the edge of a cliff, looking out over a massive city that seemed to stretch into infinity, the golden glow of its lights so bright it made him squint.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, but no response came.

Somehow, he was alone again.

And just as he turned to walk away from the edge, the ground below him slipped away, and before he realized what happened, he was over the edge, free falling, desperately reaching out for any type of handhold, but there were none to be found. He dug into his robes and snaked his fingers around his wand.

Harry woke with a start, bolt upright, gasping for air, pain cutting through his forehead. Instinctively, he reached his hand up to rub his scar, but realized the pain was on the other side. He mopped the slick of sweat off his brow and as he felt something pecking against the backside of his hand, right over the pain in his forehead.

Peck. Peck. Peck.

"Bloody hell." He muttered as his eyes slowly came into focus.

He saw the source of his pain. A ministry paper airplane memo repeatedly crashing in to his forehead. He snatched it out of the air with the skill of any champion quidditch seeker.

"Just how long have you been doing that?" He said out loud to the memo as he unfolded it.

Potter,

You're needed in Northern Ireland ASAP.

See me for details.

-Davis

P.S. Fall asleep at your desk one more time

and it will be detrimental to your career.

And that's when Harry realized he was at work.

The walk to the department head's office was only mildly humiliating. With every junior auror's desk he passed he was greeted with some sarcastic variation of "Morning, Potter."

Harry knocked tentatively on Davis' door, and looked through the window. Not even looking up from his paperwork, Davis made a gesture for Harry to enter.

"Sir?" Harry croaked out as he entered the office, his voice still sleepy.

"Right, Potter." Davis replied indifferently in his thick Scouse accent, straightening a large stack of papers in front of him.

"I need you to take the lead in a situation up near Ballycastle - you'll be there a couple days, maybe a week or two, certainly no longer than a month" Davis continued, "Portkey's in the usual place, leaving in two hours. All the relevant information's in this brief." Davis plopped a heaving-looking manila envelope in front of Harry with a dull thud.

"But sir," Harry replied.

"And Potter," Davis interrupted, "do I need to remind you not to share that information with anyone?"

"Sir," Harry continued, "my wife is coming back to London tonight…"

"Potter," Davis interrupted again, with a sense of finality, "do you want to be a junior auror forever?"

"No sir, it's just... er… we haven't seen…"

"Two hours, Potter," Davis interrupted yet again, this time giving Harry a dismissive gesture, "and don't forget the brief."

Harry snatched the heavy envelope off the desk and turned on his heels, cursing under his breath as he exited the office. It was true, he hadn't seen Ginny properly in a month, with so few hours left over between his duties at work and her string of international friendly matches in Asia with the Holyhead Harpies.

He dashed out of the department to a sarcastic round of applause and rushed home, shuffling through the dozens of pages in the envelope as he rode the Underground back to Croydon.

Reading through briefing information he muttered under his breath,

"Dead house elf… dark magic suspected… ancient runes… no witnesses... "

It wasn't until he was unlocking the door to his flat that the gravity of the situation hit him. The future of his career was riding on this investigation. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, still sore from the memo's papercut. Doubts began to creep into his thoughts.

Sure, he was hired as an auror after the war was over, but he had never even finished his education. And even when he was at Hogwarts, other people did half of his work for him. Hermione mostly, with some potions help from the Half Blood Prince. As he collapsed on his couch to get his thoughts together, he realized that this would be the first time he would have to do something completely on his own.

A quick glance at the clock on the wall revealed to him he only had an hour left to get packed and get to the portkey. "Gotta get moving," he thought, getting up from the couch begrudgingly to toss whatever clothes first caught his eye into a suitcase.

The clock ticked away menacingly. "Thirty minutes…" Harry thought, now entering a mild state of panic. He ran through a mental checklist and hurried for the door.

"Oh shit," he thought as he grabbed the doorknob, "almost forgot."

Grabbing a quill, he scrawled down a note on the back of the first piece of paper he saw: the back of a utility bill.

Gin,

Called away urgently for work.

Will try to meet you at the spot at 9 tonight.

Sorry, I wanted to give you a better homecoming.

Love,

H

And with that, he scuffled out the door, now with only 25 minutes to get to the portkey.