A/N: This is a sequel of sorts to ″Sharing Life Together.″ I've wanted to write something suspenseful for a long time, and it hit me one day that I could tie these two stories together using the same Auror case I wrote about previously (since I left it unresolved). Each story stands alone, although of course I would be delighted if you read them both :)

Random story-world notes: Harry is Head of the Aurors. Ron is Head of the Auror Academy. Ginny is a Quidditch reporter for the Daily Prophet. Her current assignment is to cover the tryouts for England's national Quidditch team. (No, I did not do the math to determine if a Quidditch World Cup is held in 2022. The date of the story was determined by James's age, so I don't really care.) I'm using mediwitch as a magical translation for nurse and healer for physician. There is a high-security wing at St. Mungo's Hospital that's dedicated to Aurors who get sick or injured in the line of duty. Despite the blip in chapter thirty-six of Deathly Hallows, Yaxley and Dolohov did not die at the Battle of Hogwarts (remember Dolohov is the wizard who nearly killed Hermione at the Department of Mysteries). I consider Ginny to be Teddy's informal godmother, much the same way that the woman who marries your uncle becomes your aunt even though she's not actually related to you (and may not be the person your parents would have chosen ;) ). In other fics, I've used freshman, junior, senior to describe the three years of Auror Academy training, but I decided to change that to first year, second year, and third year. Don't worry, I'm not sending them back to Hogwarts :) Finally, in case my version of post-Hogwarts differs from yours, please remember none of us really knows what would happen.

For those of you who read ″Hidden Chambers and Unseen Monsters,″ my fifteen-chapter missing moment about the Weasleys' visit to Egypt after Chamber of Secrets that I'm immensely proud of and will shamelessly self-promote, the tentative trilogy has turned into a five-chapter introduction plus a really long one-shot (so far). Thanks to my beta vancabreuniter, who said, ″It's really good. Keep writing″ when I fretted about a twenty-three page ″prologue″ that was still incomplete. I will update at least once a week. Warning: in the middle of renovations and moving. Hint: reviews are motivating ;)

Disclaimer: All characters and assorted other magic are the property of Harry Potter author J. K. Rowling.

March 2022

Auror Headquarters, Ministry of Magic, London

Harry Potter used his wand to open the doors into the Auror training rooms and waited for the flashes of wand light visible through the open doorway to stop. After several seconds, he strode across the large open room of working trainees and barged into Ron's office without knocking.

"We've got a lead on Dolohov."

Ron dropped the parchment in his hand and stood up. "What? Where?"

"One of Matthews's informants spotted him in St. Mungo's this morning.″

Ron moved from behind his desk, then stopped. ″How do you want to handle it?″

″Well, we're not Apparating straight to St. Mungo's,″ Harry said dryly.

More than twenty years ago, when he and Ron had still been Auror trainees, they had intercepted intelligence indicating some remaining Death Eaters were in hiding at Malfoy Manor while it was held by the Ministry during the Malfoy investigation. With the intelligence already a day old and the Malfoy family approved to reclaim possession of their home, Harry and Ron had immediately Apparated to the former Voldemort stronghold. Without backup or proper reconnaissance, they had been unable to make a stealthy approach and were overpowered. Five of the Death Eaters who escaped that day were captured by the Auror Department over the following months, but Yaxley and Dolohov remained at large.

″Who's the informant?″

″Matthews won't say, but he says its information is solid.″

″ 'Its'?″

Harry shifted a stack of application packets from a chair to the floor and sat down. ″I think she's female. Maybe a mediwitch.″

Ron resumed his seat. ″Makes sense. You believe him?″

Harry shrugged. ″No reason not to.″

Matthews's reputation for well-placed, accurate informants preceded Harry and Ron's employment.

″What's Dolohov's condition? Can he be interrogated?″

″Dunno. Don't care, really.″ As the more prominent of the two, Harry had taken most of the heat for the screwup, both within and outside the department. Not to mention it had triggered one of the first significant fights in his and Ginny's relationship. Dolohov and Yaxley were the only two known Death Eaters not in Azkaban or confirmed dead, and as far as Harry was concerned, either location was equally desirable.

″If we're going after him, the charges have to stick. Can we make a case for Veritaserum?″ Ron asked.

Harry grimaced. ″I'm worried about the 'imminent danger' part.″

There were three criteria for the use of truth potion by law enforcement: the accused was charged with a violent crime punishable by life imprisonment, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had failed to ascertain the relevant information through routine procedure, and there was probable cause the accused presented an imminent danger to the public.

″Do you want to try to interrogate him first?″

Harry shook his head. ″I don't want to tip him off while he's in hospital. He's successfully hidden himself for over two decades. If we go in there with twenty questions about Voldemort and the Death Eaters, he may try to escape and injure staff or patients in the process. We have to do this right the first time, Ron.″

Ron tipped his chair back, his favorite thinking position. ″Did the informant say where in St. Mungo's?″

″Second floor. Apparently, he has an ordinary case of scrofungulus.″

″I don't like the idea of confronting him where he has a ready supply of hostages,″ Ron said, frowning. ″For all we know, we won't be able to use Veritaserum because it will react with his other potions. Let's find out how sick he is first. Then we can determine whether or not we can bring him back here for interrogation and if we can use the truth potion.″

″You or I will draw too much attention. Matthews?″

″And Connelly. Neither of them look particularly threatening. Did Dolohov come in with anyone else?″

″I don't know,″ Harry admitted. The fiasco at Malfoy Manor taught him to listen to Ron, who had wanted to take another team with them and had opposed Harry's idea of splitting up. Harry stayed silent, giving his longtime friend and partner time to strategize.

″Okay, here's what I would do. Send Matthews and Connelly to St. Mungo's in street robes. Tell them it's purely reconnaissance, that they are not to engage or confront Dolohov in any way. He's not to know they're even there. If he's able to be moved, we'll ask the Healers to sedate him before we arrive, and we'll bring him back here. See if one of the mediwitches from the Auror Wing will do it since they already have security clearance. If it won't interfere with his other potions, we'll question him under Veritaserum with the understanding that just his existence is an imminent threat. If he can't be moved, we'll evacuate the other patients, strengthen the security wards, and handle the interrogation in hospital. All that's assuming he's alone, of course.″

Harry opened his mouth and Ron scowled. ″I suppose you want me to actually write that up.″

″Yes,″ Harry said. ″And be thinking about who else goes to St. Mungo's with us, and what to do if he's not alone. I'll notify Matthews and Connelly.″

()()()()

It was their lucky day. Dolohov was alone, the Healers approved the use of Veritaserum, the sedative was administered, and the capture went like clockwork. Harry almost wished they had taken some trainees with them; it would have been a great demonstration of how procedure was designed to work.

Dolohov dozed in interrogation four, the very room in which Robards, Head Auror at the time, had placed Harry, Ron, and Hermione when she had shown up screaming in Robards's office after learning Ron and Harry had gone to Malfoy Manor alone.

Harry leaned towards Ron, who was watching Dolohov through the magically-reinforced glass. ″Think we should get Hermione in there, for old times' sake?″

″Actually, she would be going spare in your office about now.″

Harry groaned. The idea was not appealing, and he returned his attention to the interrogation room. Dolohov was still asleep, chained to table and chair (with a Sticking Spell on his bum for good measure) and accompanied by a mediwitch. She had set up a series of monitoring charms that reflected on the blank white wall opposite and seemed completely unconcerned with being shut in with a high-security prisoner. It made Harry wonder what all she had seen, and what exactly was in that potion.

He sighed. ″We'll have to tell them.″ It wasn't a question. Ginny and Hermione understood there were aspects of their husbands' jobs that they couldn't talk about, but neither witch would forgive being left out of a Death Eater capture.

″I know. You owled Ginny yet?″

Harry swore and Ron laughed.

″Louise!″ Harry bellowed, and his assistant appeared from the open office behind him.

″I'm right here, Mr. Potter, there's no need to yell.″

″Send a note to Ginny, please, and tell her I won't be home for dinner. In fact, tell her I'll be quite late and not to wait up.″

Louise disappeared with her usual efficiency.

″Cheers.″

Ron shrugged. ″I don't like you sleeping on my sofa any more than you do.″

″How long is that sedative supposed to last?″

″I don't know, but once he wakes up, we won't be leaving for a while. Fancy a snack?″

Harry didn't turn towards the door. ″Bring me a sandwich,″ he said, Summoning a chair from a nearby cubicle. ″I'll wait.″

()()()()

Dolohov's sedative had finally worn off. After a stern conversation about what was and was not considered an emergency (″only if he's going to die in the next sixty seconds″), Harry convinced the mediwitch to monitor Dolohov's condition from outside the interrogation room, leaving him and Ron alone with the Death Eater. It was quitting time, but nearly the entire department was still present, gathered round the three glass walls of the interrogation chamber, able to see and hear the proceedings but invisible to the wizards inside. Ron occasionally participated in an interview during training, but it had been years since they'd had a high-profile suspect worthy of Harry's personal attention. There were entire ranks of Aurors who had never seen Harry Potter and Ron Weasley work a suspect, and the excitement in the squad room was palpable.

Harry paced back and forth in front of the table where Ron lounged casually, chair tipped back, his body open, turned at an angle to the leering Dolohov, still in chains.

″Can I get you anything?″ Ron said as Harry continued to pace, face blank, eyes intent on his target. ″Water or tea? Maybe a butterbeer?″

″You're not my friend,″ Dolohov said. ″I don't want anything from you.″

″No, we're not friends,″ Ron agreed. ″The last time I saw you, you were trying to kill me. And the time before that.″

″I've never seen you before.″

″Oh, but you have,″ Ron said, his voice still even, but now with an unmistakeable undertone of danger. ″Almost twenty-three years ago, at Malfoy Manor. Two years before that, in a café on Tottenham Court Road. And let's not forget the incident in the Department of Mysteries.″

Ron waved his hand at Harry, still silent and pacing behind him. Harry took out his wand and began tapping it against his thigh.

Dolohov's eyes flickered ever-so-slightly, but his expression didn't change. ″Prove it.″

″We don't have to prove it,″ Ron said. ″No one will question the testimony of the two highest-ranking members of the Auror Department.″

Dolohov's eyes shifted to Harry, and Ron pressed his advantage. ″Hadn't you heard? Harry is Head Auror. For more than a decade now. Where's the rock you've been hiding under, eh?″

Dolohov stared, stoney-faced, at his reflection in the glass wall.

″Oh, go on. The department's collecting bets. The Australian Outback is a popular theory, but my money's on Africa. No? India? South America? Bali?″ Ron drummed his fingers on the table, appearing as relaxed as if he were predicting Quidditch matches with his brothers. ″That's okay, you don't have to tell me. Where's Yaxley?″

Startled by the abrupt change of subject, Dolohov's attention returned to Ron, who smiled coldly. Still Harry paced, turning ninety degrees and walking out of Dolohov's line of sight before moving back into his peripheral vision.

″See, I think I am your friend, Dolohov,″ Ron said in the same bland tone. ″Harry here would just as soon kill you as look at you—″ Harry substantiated this by pausing to deliver a cold stare— ″but I think you can be useful. A confession of your crimes during the Second Wizarding War, a solid lead on Yaxley, and we'll let you live out the rest of your sorry life in Azkaban. What do you say?″

″Go to hell.″

Ron was unperturbed. ″He doesn't like the idea, Harry.″

Harry slipped a vial of clear, colorless liquid out of his robe pocket and passed it to Ron before resuming his pacing to Dolohov's left, being sure to stay out of his sight a little longer with every pass. Despite his apparent bravado, the Death Eater was getting nervous. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his shoulders twitched whenever Harry was behind him. Harry smiled to himself. He had forgotten how much fun this was.

Ron turned the vial in his fingers, making a clink when the glass bottom tapped the table and a soft thud when the cork stopper made contact. Clink, thud. Clink, thud. Clink, thud. Harry continued pacing, tapping his wand to the beat. Ron hummed tunelessly, still balancing his chair on two legs. The muscle in Dolohov's jaw began to tick.

Ron must have noticed it too because he said, ″Last chance, Dolohov.″

Harry was just getting ready to leave the room, let Dolohov stew for a while, when the wizard spoke in a voice so arrogant and smug it sent chills down Harry's spine.

″You should tell your wife to close the shades when she's in her study at night,″ Dolohov said to Ron. ″That glass lamp shines right through her blue nightdress.″

Harry turned at the word wife, heard Ron's chair land on all fours with a deafening bang!, saw the tiny vial fall off the end of the table, felt the crunch of glass under his feet. Dolohov was already turning purple from Ron's grip at his throat.

″Ron, let go!″

But Ron was incandescent with rage, sputtering incoherently, choking Dolohov effortlessly with one large hand. The monitoring charms were flashing vivid rainbow colors on the wall. Harry could hear the scramble of Aurors at the door, but it would take them a couple of minutes to get through his extra layers of security. He braced one hand on Dolohov's chest, wrapped the other arm around Ron, and pulled, but Ron's reach was longer than his and simply dragged the Death Eater (and his chair) across the table. Harry pointed his wand at Ron's hand and cast a Stinging Hex, to no effect. He strengthened it until he knew it was painful, but Ron refused to let go. Dolohov's clawing hands slowed, stopped, dropped to his sides. Harry let go of them and prepared to stun Ron. He was not going to arrest his best friend for murder, no matter how justifiable.