Harry Potter was famous variously as the vanquisher of Voldemort, long-time head of the Auror Department, and the Boy Who Lived (twice). Among Aurors, he was simply the boss, known best for his powerful Disarmament Charm ("disarmingly charming", his wife called him). As a certain vigilant wizard once warned, Expelliarmus had become Harry's signature move. But far from being a hindrance, the power he had achieved behind the spell evoked fear in any who duelled him in practice and even, it was said, some of his real enemies.
Harry's greatest pride, however, was that his strength formed part of the Standard Non-Lethal Apprehension Sequence that Kingsley Shacklebolt had developed to fulfill the Ministry's new commitment to suspects' rights.
"I'll Disarm, and you hit him with Stupefy if he gives any sign of attacking us," Harry reminded the witch with him.
"What makes you think it's a he?" Tracey asked.
Feminist witches. He had no doubt this was something Hermione had started.
"If he or she looks to be attacking, you Stupefy him," Harry said. "Or her."
"Right." Tracey Wilson hardly needed reminding; at twenty six she had four years' field training under her belt and was a few months away from completing her Junior Aurorship.
Auror training, not to mention experience, had taught Harry to expect anything, but on arriving at Hogwarts, his first feeling had been that it was good to be home, followed by a promise to himself to visit more often.
Headmaster Longbottom was hardly more concerned than Harry. The Curse Alert had sounded in his office at four-thirty, but Dark-sensors were still semi-experimental: they could - and had - been set off by nothing more than a stray DADA lesson or even students jinx-duelling in the corridors. When Harry and Tracey reached the castle ten minutes later, the situation had escalated: a Slytherin student was found confused and semi-conscious at the edge of the grounds, and the assailant, from what he could tell Madam Pomfrey, had fled into the Forbidden Forest.
They Flooed for backup, but Harry still hardly thought they'd need it. From Neville's description of the student's state it was probably no more than an unfortunate consequence of a simultaneous hit, possibly Confundus andStupefy.
As if on cue, a lion Patronus approached him and spoke, " Your backup have arrived and are searching toward the west. The student is recovering and Poppy says he won't need to go to St Mungo's."
"That's good," Tracey said, as the Patronus faded. "It's getting dark."
Harry scanned the Forest, looking out for any signs of movement. Determining which student had fled was made more difficult by the fact that, being a weekend, Hogwartians could be found anywhere from their common rooms to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade.
"Lumos mihi," Harry muttered. The dusky trees were flooded with an orangeish light.
"Huh?" Tracey looked around for the effect of his spell.
"It's light only you can see," Harry explained.
"Nice," Tracey said, "Lumos mihi."
Evidently the effect pleased her; she'd always had a penchant for spellwork and, Harry thought, might have been better off working in the Department of Experimental Charms. He was going to apply to have her Junior Aurorship extended if she couldn't get over her mission nerves, and besides, Experimental Charms needed someone to fix these ruddy Dark magic alarms. They couldn't keep sending out Auror teams whenever some fifth year discovered Sectumsempra or magically killed a mosquito in their dormitory.
"That's something." Tracey's voice squeaked the final syllable.
Harry had to stop himself from jumping at her panic; he had momentarily been distracted. Which was perhaps more dangerous, even on a minor mission like this, as being overly frightened.
He thought he could make out something ahead, a shifting of outlines that was different from the swaying trees. Its movement was slow, as if tired, or strolling; evidently their quarry (if this was him) hadn't seen them in the darkening forest.
"Let's not draw attention to ourselves," Harry whispered. He and Tracey slowed, mirroring the speed of the person to remain a steady distance behind them.
"Do you think that's a person?" Tracey asked. "Hominem revelio!"
The air around them lit up with blue light, which seemed stronger to the left, as though it was emanating from the suspect's outline.
"Well, it's definitely human," Harry said. Before Tracey could object to his calling the suspect "it" (which she had been known to do), "it" started to move faster.
"How'd they hear us?" Harry wondered out loud, breaking into a run.
Tracey shrugged. "Extendable Ears?"
He kept an eye on the suspect. It was hard to avoid being distracted by memories of Fred and George, especially when he began to think about how that partnership ended.
He or she ran with a light, erratic swiftness that left Harry in no doubt that their quarry was a student. For a few minutes the suspect seemed to be escaping, and Harry had his wand out to forcibly prevent that, but soon the Aurors' trained fitness kicked in over the youngster's natural running aptitude, and the gap closed.
He focussed on his wand for a moment, extending the range of his Personal Light Charm until it cast a faint glow over the suspect. It looked like about a fourth or fifth year, but that was as much as he could discern, as the student wore a light travelling cloak with the hood up.
"How much closer do we need to get?" Tracey asked.
"Not much," said Harry.
A second later, the student brought the situation to a head. In a light, dancer-like movement, they stopped and turned, landing with feet planted square. Classic duelling stance.
"Now?" Tracey asked, but Harry was already casting Expelliarmus.
The spell caught the student full in the chest. A wand flew through the air, the hood fell off. The second jet of red light hit a touch lower. The student doubled over and crumpled, landing face-first on a still-materialising pillow that Tracey conjured an instant after casting Stupefy.
"Nice spell work," Harry said. Casting near-simultaneous spells was one of Tracey's strong points. "You check out the suspect."
Tracey gingerly approached even this measly enemy.
"Tracey," Harry said, "You've got to get used to this if you're going to be an Auror. They didn't even put up a fight. I'm going to check out this wand and Patronus Neville."
Again as if on cue, a second lion Patronus approached them as it materialised through the trees. Harry cast a quick Freezing Charm, turning his mind to the immediate task of examining the suspected weapon.
"Accio wand," he murmured. A single, straight stick separated itself from sticks on the forest floor and drifted lazily into his free hand. He cast some preliminary protections on the wand, which would preserve the record of its past spells and neutralise any basic anti-theft enchantments the owner may have placed on it.
"What spells's it done?" Tracey asked.
Harry shrugged. "It's better from a legal point of view to do Priori incantatem in front of an independent witness. Anyway, it's going to rain. Let's get going."
There'd been a hairy case, a couple of years ago now, in which a Junior Auror used a suspect's wand to cast lumos and a few cleaning spells on the way home from a mission. It had invalidated the wand's spell record as evidence in court, caused a media furore about "corruption" in the Auror Department, and led to several declarations by the Wizengamot regarding responsible treatment of seized wands. What Harry remembered most vividly was the reams and reams of paperwork.
"Will we wake her up then?" Tracey asked.
"So it is a girl?" Harry realised he would never hear the end of this one.
"Yeah. She's moving. Ennervate?"
"Not yet."
Wordlessly, Tracey waved her wand over the prostrate body, and it stopped stirring. Harry slipped the wand into his pocket.
"You've done sparks?" she asked.
"Oh yeah." Pulling out his own wand, Harry shot green sparks above the Forest canopy.
"Best way to transport's probably unconscious," he said. "You know what Neville's like about students. He'll do his nut if we traumatise her by tying her up."
Tracey pulled Neville's office Portkey out of her pocket. "Portus."
She rolled the student over and wrapped one listless hand around the small, glowing garden spade.
"Let's go then," she said, beckoning to Harry. "Hurry up, it's on a thirty second timer."
Harry, however, had lost the ability to speak, or walk. He wanted to step toward the sleeping body, to see the face closer. The orange light from his wand tapered off, but he'd seen already who their unconscious suspect was.
Why didn't Tracey - the thought broke off before he could complete it. Harry and Ginny kept their family life fiercely private. Of course Tracey hadn't recognised his daughter.
Unbound by the caster's loss of focus, the Freezing Spell Harry had put on Neville's Patronus sputtered out, and it spoke: "Be careful approaching the suspect. We have strong suspicions that the curse cast was the Cruciatus."