Chapter 2

"Do you ever miss it?" Harry asked, turning his face from the window to look behind him at Draco who was curled up in a chair with a thick book.

"Miss what?" Draco asked, not looking up.

"Being out there."

Draco snorted. "Hardly. While being cooped up in this horrid house with you is not my idea of a good time, it's far better than being hexed out there." There was no hostility in Draco's words, and there was a smirk playing around his mouth as he read.

Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to the window. It was raining, as it often did, and the brunette watched the drops streak down the glass for a moment until Draco spoke again.

"Do you miss it?"

"I...dunno. I've spent a lot of my life being cooped up in one way or another."

Draco turned a page. "This has to be better than the cupboard."

"It's bigger than the cupboard, but the company there was more agreeable. I never heard the spiders complaining about the way I make tea."

"Maybe if you didn't make tea like an utter plebeian, I wouldn't complain."

Harry shook his head. "Maybe if you weren't a spoiled ponce, you wouldn't complain."

Apparently that didn't merit a response because Draco just kept reading. It was another few minutes before the silence was broken again. "You'll be free one day," Draco said softly.

"I'm not so sure."

Draco sighed, rubbing at his face as he waited for the lift on Monday morning. His weekend hadn't been remarkable. Saturday had seen him having a lie in and then doing some shopping, and on Sunday he'd had lunch with his mother.

She'd asked all of the usual questions: How was work? Was he being safe? When was he going to put effort into his social life, and did he know that Astoria Greengrass was still single?

His answers were the same: Busy. Yes, of course. When he things slowed down, and yes because she was a gold digging whore much like her sister.

He pushed his hair out of his face and got into the lift when the doors opened. There were a few other people inside, and he moved so that he could lean against the back of the lift. Auror Samson, an older man who wasn't all that fond of him, leaned in close.

"Heard the news, then?" he asked.

Draco blinked. "No," he said coolly. "I only just arrived."

"Word is Auror Weasley wants to see you in his office as soon as you get up there."

"Is this about the Americans?" Draco wanted to know.

"Sure is. Apparently the Americans, Weasley, andthe Japanese DMLE figured something out. Weasley didn't look happy about whatever it was."

"How do you even know this?"

Samson shrugged. "I was here yesterday when it happened."

"When what happened?" Draco snapped. If there was one thing he hated, it was being out of the loop. Especially in this job.

"Not exactly sure," the older man replied, smirking just a little. The lift stopped then, and the cool female voice announced that they had arrived at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "Guess you'll find out soon," Samson continued as they stepped off.

Draco rolled his eyes, and walked faster, trying to lose the other man. He bypassed his own office, heading straight to Ron's to find out what was going on.

Before he could knock on the door, it was yanked open by none other than the Minister himself. Draco's eyes jumped up to his hairline.

"Good morning, Minister."

"Malfoy," Kingsley said. "Come on in. We've been waiting for you."

"You could have called me in earlier," Draco muttered, dropping into a chair on the other side of Ron's desk.

"No, we couldn't," Ron said. "Because then you would have come in."

"Yes, Weasley, that would be the point," Draco drawled.

"Alright, you two," Kingsley interrupted. "I need you to focus here. Weasley, you were going to fill Malfoy in?"

"Right," Ron replied, clearing his throat. If there was one thing Draco would say for the man who was essentially his boss, it was that when it was time to work, Ron got down to business. He flipped open a file and slid it across the desk to Draco. "So, as you know, I've been in communication with the Head of the American DMLE. Recently they've been recording flares of raw magic that they cannot trace. All they know is that it isn't coming from anyone they have registered with the Bureau of Magical Affairs, and that for raw magic to be registering like it is, it has to be pretty powerful."

Draco frowned. "When you say raw magic, you mean magic not channeled through a wand?" he asked.

Ron nodded. "Yeah. Apparently raw magic happens all the time, what with the accidental magic kids do before they know any better, and the occasional outburst when someone powerful enough is mad enough. Usually these flares aren't big enough to even register."

"But this is strong enough to draw their attention," Draco murmured.

"Exactly," Kingsley answered. "According to Captain Pritchett, their head Police-witch, there aren't any magic users that powerful in their country right now. That kind of power is very rare, and there are only two schools of magic that turn out witches and wizards of that caliber."

"Let me guess," Draco said dryly. "Hogwarts is one of them?"

Ron nodded. "Second on the list, in fact. First is some school in Japan. Long story short, the Americans want us to go over there see if we know who this super powerful person is. Personally, I'm hoping it's one of the Japanese."

Draco could tell from the stubborn set of Ron's jaw that there was something he was missing about this case. Something that was upsetting the Head Auror. Before he had time to puzzle it out, Kingsley was getting to his feet.

"I've another meeting to get to, so I'll leave you two to confer about the best course of action. Auror Weasley, you'll keep me informed?"

"Of course, Minister," Ron said, standing as well.

"Very good." With that, the Minister swept from the office, closing the door behind him.

Ron plopped back down into his chair and let his head fall onto the desk. "This is going to be a nightmare," he groaned.

"What is it?" Draco asked. "What aren't you telling me?"

"What, you mean Malfoy the genius can't work it out for himself?"

"Will you just tell me?"

Ron sighed, looking up. "Okay, think about it this way. Hogwarts turns out some powerful witches and wizards, yeah, but there are still only a few whose raw magic would register. Most of us never learn to do wandless magic at all. Youknow some, but you learned it when you were...you know."

Draco did know. Many Dark spells were learned wandlessly because they were nearly impossible to trace when they didn't have a wand to lead back to. As a result Death Eaters had been required to learn how to do small bits of wandless magic.

"So you think this person might be a former Death Eater?" Draco wanted to know. "I suppose it makes sense. There are still a few of them that we can't account for."

"Any ideas who might have been powerful enough?"

Draco thought for a moment, mind flashing back to the days of fear and chaos. "Either of the Lestranges for certain," he said. "Severus and...my father."

Ron winced sympathetically. "Okay, we know it's not Snape or Bellatrix or your father. So that leaves-"

"We can't discount my father," Draco argued.

"He's dead, Malfoy."

"He's assumeddead, Weasley. His body was never found."

"True, but there's been no trace of him for eight years. Your mother is convinced that he's dead, and no offence, but Lucius Malfoy never struck me as the type to set up in America of all places."

Draco sighed and leaned back in the chair. "Mm, that's a fair point. It is far more likely that we're dealing with someone like Rabastan Lestrange or his brother Rodolphus. Their standards were always lower, and they had a higher capacity for senseless cruelty."

Ron pulled the file back towards himself and made a few notes, muttering to himself all the while. Draco took that as a sign to leave and was about to push to his feet when a sudden flash of memory made him pause.

Harry stuck his tongue out at Draco as he sat down across from him at the kitchen table, wandlessly summoning five lumps of sugar from the bowl across the room and making them dance around Draco's head before he dumped them into his tea.

"You're disgusting," Draco said, a smile twitching his lips.

"Says the sugar fiend."

"Not in the tea, you pillock."

Harry rolled his eyes, flicking his fingers to bring that day's Daily Prophet to him. "You'll get over it. Come on. Let's see what they've written about us today."

Draco blinked, hands clenching at his sides, eyes far away.

Ron looked up and tilted his head. "Malfoy, you okay?"

"Yes," the blond said, shaking his head quickly. "Fine. I'm just thinking about the case."

"Good, because you're going to be on this one, Malfoy. I can't go running off to America, but I cansend you, and I plan to if it comes to that."

"But of course, Head Auror Weasley," Draco replied, offering Ron a mocking bow. "You know I live to serve."

"It's not like you have anything better to do," Ron retorted with a grin. "Get out of here. I want your thoughts on the Dewit case before lunch."

Draco waved a hand at Ron over his shoulder and headed to his own office.


It was around seven that evening when Draco got home. He'd spent the day writing up reports for the last three cases he'd wrapped up, and making notes for new ones that would be given out to other Aurors. When things were relatively quiet on the crime front, Draco spent a fair amount of time reading reports and doing paperwork.

It wasn't that he particularly wanted to lighten Weasley's load, but when there was work to be done Draco wanted to be doing it. Being idle did not sit well with him. It hadn't since...well, not since he started spending so much time alone. In his experience, having too much time to think was no longer a good thing.

He made himself a quick dinner, and settled down on the couch with a cup of tea. Draco had been looking at reports all day, so he summoned a book from one of the shelves in his sitting room and opened it, quickly losing himself in words about advanced Potions theory. It was still one of his favorite subjects, and whenever a case dealing with potions cropped up, he was immediately assigned to it.

A comfortable couple of hours passed, during which Draco forgot all about work and Harry Potter and just let himself relax.

His peace was short lived, however, and just as he was contemplating taking a shower and heading to bed, there was a tap at his window.

An owl that he recognized as the screech Ron used at work was perched on the sill, giving him a stern look. Brow furrowed, Draco went to let the bird in, glaring at it when it dropped the letter onto the floor and took off again.

"Bloody bird," Draco muttered to himself, bending down to pick up the parchment that was sealed with the stamp of the Head Auror.

It had to be something important, as Ron never sent him work owls at home, knowing that would just make Draco work more. The blond tapped the seal with his wand, and it glowed red for a second before dissipating and allowing the letter to fall open.

Malfoy,

Another spike was recorded in America. A big one. Head of the BOMA is demanding that we get someone over there.

Portkey leaves at 8 am. Be nice to the Americans.

R.W.