Introduction: Dude, Where's My Mom?

Draco Malfoy did not (as a general rule) burst through doors. It was an affront to his debonair sensibilities. He preferred to leisurely glide over all thresholds, exuding a 'no fucks given' attitude. He fancied himself better at it than his father ever had been, and always sought to prove himself better at things than his father ever had been. In the six years since the end of the second wizarding war (or as Draco referred to it - 'the utter shite time'), and the five years since his father's suicide (or as Draco referred to it - 'the cowardly bollock-off'), this constant one-upsmanship had served him well. He'd vastly improved the Malfoy name, and earned a rather comfortable place as the youngest wizard to served on the Wizengamot. (And he liked to pretend that the still admirable Malfoy fortune had nought to do with any of that, but rather his symbolic propensity for gliding over thresholds.)

But today - in this case - he made his first exception, and he burst through the door labeled Department of Missing Witches and Wizards and Wherewithal.

The wizard at the desk inside the dim and somewhat dusty office shot up from his dim and somewhat dusty desk like a vampire in a beam of sunlight. "What the -"

"I need to make a report." Draco announced tightly, He was very good at interrupting.

"A report?" The other wizard was obviously taken aback. He blinked nap out of surprised eyes, and adjusted sleek (new) glasses on his nose.

"Yes! I need to report someone missing, Potter! That's why I...burst in here like a great panicked nunce!"

"Oh. Oh!" Harry Potter smoothed his rumpled red robe. "Well, hell, Malfoy. Er…" He drew his wand, not quite snapping into action. "Um...have a seat." A wave later, a dim and somewhat dusty velvet chair sauntered over. Harry waved again and a file cabinet drawer creaked open. He began extracting and re-inserting folders, seeking out the right one. "I'm afraid you've caught me rather...off guard."

"You don't say?" Draco started to sit, paused. He extracted a white kerchief from his pocket and swiped at the dust on the chair. Then sat. Watched balefully, chewing at his lip, while Potter rifled through papers piss poorly attempting to collect his shit. "This is what you do now, right?"

"Uh. Yes." Harry cleared his throat. Sat. Picked up a quill. The quill wavered in his trembling fingers. It flipped onto the desk and Harry grappled with it again. "I mean. Just recently, yes."

"Recently."

"I returned from training yesterday."

"Lovely." Draco wiped at his face, leaning forward in the chair.

Harry set his jaw, absorbing the gravity of this situation. "Now." He took a deep breath. "The um- the name of the missing party?" His quill was upside down in his hand. He righted it swiftly, hopefully unnoticed by the worried wizard across from him.

"My mother."

"Your - your mother?!" Harry dropped the quill again.

"Yes, I assume you know her name."

"Of course I do!" He gripped the quill determinedly this time. "I - I just saw her."

"She told me."

"She told you?" He swallowed. "What?"

"She told me she saw you, Potter!" Draco slapped his knees in frustration. "On her bloody vacation!"

"Right!" Harry prepared to jot down pertinent information, only completely slightly flustered. "So you did see her recently."

"I saw her Wednesday evening. When she returned from America."

"Alright. Alright." Harry stopped. Put down the quill. Laid his hands calmly on his desk. "Let's...calm down."

"I assure you I'm perfectly fucking calm, Potter. Considering I've a family member missing for nigh on two days now."

Harry's forehead creased. So did his lips. "Start at the beginning, Malfoy."

"What? The...beginning when?"

"The very beginning." Potter prepared to write again.

"Alright." Draco crossed his legs. "I was born on a particularly rainy morning. I'm told it was -"

"Draco."

"Hm?"

"Start with the last time you saw your mother."

"Well that makes more bloody sense, doesn't it, Potter? Shoddy training they gave you in America." Harry sighed. "She returned home late Wednesday evening. The 13th I believe." Potter was writing. "The wards announced her around eight. I met her at the doors. We had tea. The elf brought her bags in."

"How did she seem?" Professional.

Draco shrugged. "She was tired. Said so. Long distance apparation, you know."

"Was she...alright?" Quiet.

"She seemed fine other than being exhausted, yes."

"Good." Harry flipped a page. "Did you speak much? What did she talk about?"

"Not a lot. She told me we would talk more over breakfast. She went to bed."

"I see. And...at breakfast? On the 14th?"

"I didn't see her."

"So she was missing before breakfast."

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I...peeked into her room on my way to breakfast. It looked like she was still in bed, so I left her alone. I had breakfast by myself, and left for the Ministry around nine."

"So you saw her in bed."

"I assumed so."

"You saw her or you didn't."

"I saw a pile of blankets, Potter! I didn't climb in there and perform a gynecological examination! It's my mother!"

Harry held up his hands in a surrender. "Right! Right. Sorry, Malfoy. I just need to be very clear on the last time you saw her definitely."

"The evening of the thirteenth. As she went to bed."

Harry scribbled. "Any information from the elf?"

"No. I asked Moron if he'd seen Mistress and he said no. He'd last prepared her tea with me that same evening."

"Your elf's name is Moron."

"No, Potter. Not that it's important, but the elf's name in Morton. I simply call him Moron because he is one."

Harry shook his head, dismissing the elf's name and/or nickname. "So. You returned from the Ministry at what time on the fourteenth?"

"Around 6 pm. For dinner."

"And I assume that's when you discovered your mother was missing."

"Yes. She didn't appear for dinner, and I couldn't find her on the grounds anywhere."

"You checked thoroughly."

"Yes. The greenhouses. The bath. All the places she would spend an exorbitant amount of time. I even did a wand trace."

"Really?" Harry grew more concerned. "And even the wand trace revealed nothing?"

"No. Her wand is missing. Active, but untraceable by my magic."

"Perhaps we should consult the general auror department, Malfoy. There are specialists who can perform much more far-reaching traces."

"I did. This morning. They said to give you this." He extracted a document from his suit jacket and handed it over.

Harry glanced it. "These are wand coordinates, Malfoy. This could be the location of your mother. All of this may be unnecessary!" He rose, intending to visit coordinates. Intending to solve his first official missing witch case dexterously and successfully. Draco froze him.

"She's not there. They went. Early this morning. They came back and reported that the trace was basically...a fake. A um…"

"A decoy." Harry sunk back to his chair. Decoys were tricky. Illegal, for one thing. It was highly disapproved of to hide oneself magically, especially in the sensitive times after the war. An old Death Eater trick frowned upon by the magically moral. But it could also mean foul play. It was common for more nefarious types to hide the locations of kidnapped witches or wizards or by setting decoys of their wand traces. "So that means one of two things," Harry murmured, more to himself.

But Malfoy heard quite clearly. "What two things?"

Potter squared up. "Either she's hidden her own tracks, made her magical signature untraceable… or someone else has." Draco looked a bit faint. "Any reason to believe someone would kidnap your mother?"

"No!" Draco rose and began pacing. "She's been a bloody hermit for nearly four years now! You know that! She hadn't seen the sun in so long she was practically transparent. That's why I encouraged her so strongly to take that vacation!" Suddenly he stopped. Whirled on Harry. "You saw her on vacation, Potter. She said the two of you spent some time together. Did anyone accost her? Was she threatened...or -"

"No, Malfoy." Harry reassured. "She mostly kept to herself. I was the only person she really had any socializing with at all." He sighed. "It doesn't make any sense. No breaches of the wards?"

"No. We would know immediately."

"No signs of struggle? Nothing amiss."

"No. Bloody elf doesn't let a dust ball hit the floor without hearing it. The manor is impeccable as usual."

"Well, then." Harry stood. Closed the file. "I'll begin."

"Begin what?"

"My investigation, Malfoy. This is what I do, now, as you pointed out. I'm going to find your mother. And I need to start at Malfoy Manor."

Draco brightened, if only a little. "I'll have Moron put the kettle on."

"Yeah." Harry pocketed his wand. "I'll meet you there momentarily. Need to turn this in and check in with my superiors."

"Right." Draco turned in the door, nearly colliding with a hurried Harry. "Potter."

"What?"

"Thanks. For doing this. I know it's -"

"It's my first case, Malfoy." Harry gestured into the busy hallway. "Let me get on with it."

If Harry felt any nervousness or worry over his first case, and he did, he at least attempted to hide it well. He tried to look like one of those suave muggle detectives from the tellie as he entered the research department. "Hey, Hermione. I need a coordinate check." He flashed the document. His bushy-haired Gryffindor friend had been actively sought by the Ministry's Magical Law Enforcement for their research department. Having the 'brightest witch of her age' on staff could no doubt benefit anyone, but she'd felt particularly keen for law. It seemed an old 'do what's right' initiative still compelled her into womanhood.

Granger looked up from her book and removed her feet from her desk. "Well, hello to you, too."

"Yeah, hello. Sorry."

She smiled, unrolling the parchment. "You got a case?"

"Yeah. Malfoy's mother."

"Oh! They did give it to you!"

His face screwed up charmingly. "What? Were they not going to give it to me?"

She was summoning maps from a wall of bookshelves. "Murphy tried to send Draco to Cotspole or one of the other seniors. But…" She found the map she waws looking for. "He was pretty insistent on having you."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Said his mother had spoken highly of you in her letters from Florida."

"Oh." He chewed his lip again.

"Here you are." Hermione swung a ridiculously huge magnifying glass over the map. Its magic scanned and zoomed until a field was visible in the lens. Just...a field. "Looks like...Estonia." She announced.

"Estonia?"

"One of the Baltic nations," Granger began. "Rich in culture and very geographically diverse. Vast farmlands, modern villages and cities, beaches, shipping ports, forest land for -"

"I know what Estonia is, Hermione." Harry groused, snatching back the coordinates. Sometimes her intellectual condescension was deeply annoying. "I'm just trying to figure why."

She scowled. "Well, I might be able to offer some helpful information, but since you know all the fuck about Estonia, I don't suppose it would be helpful at all." She turned away.

Harry stared at her flyaway curls and quietly counted to ten. "I didn't say I knew all the fuck about Estonia. And honestly any information you have would be greatly appreciated."

She turned back to him, grinning. "Well. It is home to Lamwich Forest."

"Lamwich Forest? I'm not familiar."

"You shouldn't be. It's a forest."

"Really?" He deadpanned.

"Supposedly heavily secreted."

"Of course."

"And completely inhabited by witches - and only witches - on the lam."

"Huh." Made sense. "On the lam from what?"

She shrugged. "Whatever a witch might go on the lam from, Harry. Crime. Debt. Husbands. Maybe excessive media attention surrounding their involvement with harboring the Dark Lord during the war and subsequent revelation of how bloody great they truly are by the Chosen One after they lie about his death in a different forest entirely at sunrise after a devastating battle took out numerous agents for the light including fucking children?" She blinked and smiled sweetly.

"Thanks, Hermione. I'll look into it." He left her desk grumbling about insufferable know it alls.

His next stop was equally frustrating. The auror pool was quiet with most duty aurors out on various patrols. Captain Murphy was reviewing a case file when Harry approached. "Captain."

"Yes, yes, yes, I know." Murphy was a gruff old wizard with a long black beard and suspicious eyes. "The Malfoy case."

"Yes, sir. I wanted your permission to depart and start my investigation."

"Awfully sensitive stuff for your first case, Potter. I highly recommend you pass it on, or pass on it altogether."

"I can't do that, sir."

"I'll level with you, Harry." Murphy stood, leveling with Harry. "Sometimes...a witch on the run ought to be let run."

"You think she's run on her own, sir?"

"I do."

"But we can't guarantee that." Harry insisted. "What if she's in danger?"

Murphy let out a righteous guffaw. "Narcissa Black Malfoy grew up with Bellatrix Lestrange as a sister and Voldemort for a bloody houseguest, Harry. I doubt she's in danger. Could probably throw a hex with the best of 'em."

Harry tried to relax. Tried to understand the reasoning. "I know, sir. But...I need to do this. To offer Draco peace of mind and to learn my own lessons. With all due respect."

"Then I'll offer my own respect, Auror Potter. I think it's a fool's errand, but you've got to cut your eye teeth on something." He sighed. "Best get to work, then. There's a witch in peril somewhere."

Harry rolled his eyes as he left, wondering if he really was on a fool's errand. Wondering if he really was a fool…

Malfoy Manor was really quite stunning. In the light of a clear day, and outside of its dank, depressing cellar, Harry found it beautiful. Gothic spires appeared more grandiose and less grudging. Shadowed gables were draped in white and blossoming tea roses. Aaaand Draco Malfoy was standing in the door.

"Took you long enough."

"This is a process, Malfoy. I can't just drop everything and apparate to a set of coordinates."

"Yes, you can."

"Just - just show me to her room. I'll start there."

Draco left Harry to explore Narcissa's room, claiming he needed to 'wrap up some things.' So there was blissful quiet.

The room was what he expected. Neat and soft. Highly lacquered floors and plush rugs. Velvet drapes in heavy folds. Several wardrobes on the far wall were open and in disarray. Drawers cracked, clothing spilling out...very uncharacteristic of the proper and organized witch he'd come to know in Florida. One wardrobe contained several shrunken valises and such. Luggage. It seemed recently disturbed, several suitcases perched diagonally over a gap. Harry took note. If she'd returned recently from a vacation, he expected more to see luggage back in place. Or scattered about in the process of unpacking. Instead, it looked as though more was missing. Curious...

The bed was unmade. A lump of bedding did look suspiciously like a person's form. Harry tossed the emerald satin bedding back to reveal...nothing but a silver slip of silken nightgown. He stared at it for a moment, swallowing back something. His fingertips just barely brushed the material.

"Taking hair samples or something, Potter?"

He jumped at Malfoy's voice. "I suspect she left of her own accord, Draco. Doesn't look like she even unpacked."

"I know. I thought the same thing." Draco sat at the foot of the massive bed. "I just can't figure why she would leave. What could have happened that would send her running off without so much as a word to me?"

"Any strange mail come for her?"

Draco shook his head. Pointed to a desk in an alcove. "It's all over there. The elf stacked it up for her while she was gone."

Harry sifted through the pile of rolled parchments. There were only a few. Most hadn't even been touched, still bound or sealed with elaborate waxy sculpture. But one was clearly opened… He grabbed it quickly, sensing Draco's approach, and stashed it in his robe. "Anything threatening?" Draco asked.

"No. All looks pretty above board to me." He cleared his throat. "Anything else missing from the house? Food? Money?"

"Actually, yes. I had the elf take inventory while I waited forever for you. Six bottles of wine are missing from the cellar, and about a hundred galleons that we kept in this stupid fish statue near the floo. You know. Pocket change."

The fact that the Malfoys thought of a hundred galleons as pocket change went ignored for the moment. "Would anyone other than yourself, your mother or the elf have access to the wine or the galleons?"

"No."

"Right." Harry had seen all he needed to see. His initial worry had been replaced by determination. The witch had left of her own accord. "That's all I need, Malfoy. I'll be on my way, and I'll keep in touch."

"What do you mean you're on your way?"

"I'm going to try to track down your mum. Shouldn't be that difficult, actually. I have a bit of a lead."

"Yeah? Well, I'm going with you so you can tell me all about it."

"No, no, no, no, no." Harry put a hand on Draco's advancing shoulder. "You can't go with me, Draco. This is auror business. Serious stuff. I've got to handle it."

"Um...no, no, no, no, no, yourself." Draco put a hand on Harry's hand still on his shoulder. "I appreciate that you're being official and all but a few things, please; one, you're still basically a rookie at this, fresh out of training. Let's face it - you can't even hold a quill properly. Two, this is my mother, and she's all I've left in the world. And if you think I trust you to run off half cocked looking for her based on a hunch and some decoy coordinates, you're dead bloody wrong. Three, I'm bored to fucking tears wading through Wizengamot bureaucracy, and I'm not going to pace around this soggy old catacombs waiting for your floo call every night like some weeping wisp of a schoolgirl hoping for a date to the Yule ball. You savvy?"

"Draco, there is protocol to be followed here! Procedures!"

"What bloody procedures?" He grabbed Harry's shoulders, shaking them a bit. "If a mudbl - muggle loses the ignition keys to their...primitive, petrol-powered pollutant-spewing vehicle, do they follow protocol? Procedures? Hell, no, Potter. They just go looking for them! Simple as that! And they find them and -"

"You're comparing your mother to a set of muggle car keys, Malfoy. It's not at all similar."

"I fucking disagree. She's quite small. I've misplaced her before. Potter, the inescapable reality here is that whether my mother is a set of keys or a formidable witch whom I might be secretly terrified of, I'm accompanying you on this little venture so you might as well gird your loins to it."

"Merlin's saggy sack, man!" Harry shoved Draco away. But there was surrender in his manner. Draco sensed it. "You're one of the most frustrating people I've even known in my goddamned life, Malfoy."

"Did you expect me to change, Potter? I mean...really change?" He scoffed. "Come on. We're burning daylight. Where are we apparating to?"

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, resigning himself to fate, and preparing himself for uncertain adventure.

Up next...strawberry fields, Amazonian warriors, gourmet cheeses, and a talking goat. I'm lying about one of those things. Guess which.