"I heard you were kidnapped," says Queen Victoria. Her voice sounds worried, and she's nervously checking Harry over for any injuries, but Harry knows it's all for show anyway. He's simply her watchdog, nothing more, even if she likes to act as if she's his grandmother.

They have a professional relationship, after all. The Potters have been the liason between the magical world and the muggle world for generations now. However, when Harry turned his back on the magical world, he had focused more on completing his duty for the Queen rather than the Minister, turning their relationship into what it is now.

"I'm alright," he says, for more her benefit than his. He doesn't go into further detail to explain how he got kidnapped on purpose, because he's pretty sure that would send her into hysterics over his safety. Which was ridiculous because she needed him as he was now. Coddling him would do no one any favors.

"Good," says the Queen, and she fluffs her large, poofy skirts once before fanning them out in order to sit down on the extravagant loveseat in front of him. "Congratulations on capturing the Death Eater, then. He's been convicted by the Wizengamot and Cornelius is sending him to Azkaban as we speak."

"Thank you," he says.

The Queen smiles, "You don't have to be all work all the time, Harry. I feel bad for working you so hard. You know, your parents took breaks sometimes."

He barely conceals his flinch from the mention of his parents, and he shakes his head in order to clear his thoughts. "I don't have time for breaks, your Majesty," he says.

She sighs, "I knew you would say that. Here," she places a manila folder on the coffee table in front of them. "There's been a series of missing magical children. One of the victims showed up dead in the middle of a muggle town, wearing muggle clothes and drained of magic. The muggle influence is why we were informed of this and why I am putting you on this case. The Aurors will be working it as well, but they will be restricted by magical laws and their woeful lack of knowledge on Muggles. I trust you will find the children. The little information we have is in this booklet."

He frowns, and his suspicions are confirmed when he flips through the booklet. The only information are the missing kids' names. It will take at least a week of downtime to gather more information. "You're putting me on a break, anyway, aren't you?"

"Your revenge is consuming you," says the Queen. "Sometimes, you need to take a step back, or else you'll burn out too quickly." Harry opens his mouth, and the Queen frowns, her voice strict. "I will not be questioned on this."

Harry winces at her tone, before nodding and the Queen smiles.

"I've been at this a lot longer than you, Harry. Keeping this world safe is no easy matter. But I have faith that you will continue to do well as long as you listen to me."

"Yes, your Majesty," he says, and picks up the folder.

Tom is looking at him as if he's amused, even as Harry picks up another vase and throws it against the wall, shattering it into pieces.

"Finnian won't be able to clean that up very well," observes Tom. "He's going to cut himself."

"Fine," he snaps. "Then you clean it."

Tom chuckles, and when Harry picks up another vase, a gloved hand is there immediately, forcing him to lower it. "I gather the meeting didn't go over very well."

"I'm not getting any closer," Harry gets out between gritted teeth. "I thought working with the Queen would get me some clues on who burned my parents alive, but …"

"You know who gave the orders," says Tom, calmly. "Lord Voldemort."

"But he's nowhere to be found! And if I can't find him, how can I rescue Neville?"

Tom's silent, and Harry feels small under his gaze. He sighs, before pulling out the manila folder the Queen had given him. "Missing children's case," he says, throwing the folder onto his cherry oak desk. "But she's only given me a list of names, even though I'm sure she has more information. One has been found dead, drained of magic and wearing muggle clothes. It's going to take weeks to get the necessary information to even start this case."

"Ah," says Tom, his red eyes quickly scanning the documents. "All under the age of twelve and most of them purebloods. And drained of magic…"

"What is it?" asks Harry, and Tom shakes his head.

"Nothing, my lord."

"You know something," he accuses, and Tom smiles.

"Just a hunch. Nothing to worry about."

He narrows his eyes at Tom and Tom starts to shuffle the documents back into the folder. He's acting awfully innocent. "I can order you," he threatens, a bit petulantly, and Tom chuckles.

"But you won't," he says. "Because you already know what I'm thinking, don't you, my lord?"

He flinches, and Tom's smile turns wry. "It's just, when I found you, my lord, you were drained of magic, weren't you?"

His head's pounding and Tom notices, leaning forward to place his left hand, the hand with the contract, against his temple. Immediately, the pounding stops. "I apologize. It's not good for you to think on those things," says Tom. "I've taken them away per your request, and until you want them back, it will be safer for you to forget about your time back then."

"Okay," he says, and Tom pats his head.

"Now there's a good boy. I'll be back tonight with more information on these children's whereabouts. Until then, play nice with the others."

Harry scowls, but Tom's gone before he can say anything else.

He's blindfolded. He's on a flat surface, made out of a material that is inherently cold. Cold enough that it seeps into his bones and causes him to shiver despite the bright light that's shining down onto him. There's a murmur of voices all around him, but he can't make out any of the words.

And then there's pain, pain he knows far too intimately, and he's screaming, thrashing against the restraints. He gets one hand free, and he holds it above him, outstretched as if searching for someone, something to save him.

Someone does. A gloved hand tugs on his, bringing him into a sitting position and the restraints melt away as a calm voice starts to speak to him.

"Wake up, Harry," says Tom, and when he opens his eyes, the devil is there, his eyes catlike in the dark of the room.

"Your wings," he says, groggy from sleep, and Tom tucks them behind his back, away from view. "You're in your true form," he says, now more awake, and he frowns when moonlight hits Tom, revealing the blood marring his usually flawless suit.

"I was in the middle of something when I heard you calling out for me," says Tom, and when Harry blinks, he's back to his wingless, human-like form. "Can't even leave you alone for one night, can I?"

"No," he says, "you should know better than to leave me for so long."

"Needy, aren't you?" retorts Tom, and Harry sighs, tugging on Tom so he could fall bonelessly into Tom's chest.

His nightmares had been coming back full-force lately. He figures it means that the block on his memories is fraying. Tom may be a devil, but even he can't perfectly erase Harry's memories especially since the memories had such a traumatic effect on him. An obliviation would work, but Harry refuses to let anyone else know just exactly what memories he wanted to forget. Only Tom and him can ever know what had happened that fateful night.

Tom doesn't say anything else, and Harry draws comfort from the fact that Tom's there against him and that he's safe. The nightmare had brought back far too many feelings he had wanted to forget forever, and Tom makes him feel safe and no longer helpless.

That's the feeling he hates most. Feeling helpless.

"Some warm milk might help," suggests Tom when time has passed, and Harry shakes his head.

"I'm okay," he says. "You still have work to do and my nightmares never come back after I wake once. But stay with me until I fall asleep?"

"Always," promises Tom, and when Harry lays back down and closes his eyes, he falls asleep to the comfort of Tom's breathing.

"Good morning, my lord," wakes Harry up and he can't help the groan that escapes his mouth when the sunlight hits his eyes.

"Morning," he says, the words muffled since he's on his stomach and he can hear Tom chuckling.

"Rough night?" asks Tom, his voice knowing, and Harry sighs, rolling over, sitting up, and holding out his arms. Skillful hands tie his customary eye-patch on his right eye and Tom delicately removes his night-clothes, replacing them with the outfit Tom's chosen him for today.

When he opens his eyes, Tom's smiling down at him, and Harry accepts his help in standing. He glances down at his clothes, they're fancy and black and he immediately frowns. "We're going to the Wizarding World?"

"Yes," says Tom. And Harry narrows his eyes at Tom's pleased little smile.

"What'd you do?" he asks, warily, and Tom's smile becomes all sharp teeth.

"Nothing you wouldn't approve of, my lord. I just convinced the Aurors it would be best to let us take the lead of their investigation."

"Oh," he says, out of both shock and delight, because he had not been looking forward to working with the Aurors.

"We're going to Diagon Alley," says Tom. He hands Harry the cane that Harry had used just the other day. Harry takes the hilt of it, letting the bottom rest on the ground. It's not necessary, but it completes the outfit and it's a hidden weapon if anyone gets too close. "We're going to visit the place the last victim had went missing."

"Name?" he asks.

"Alice Brown. Eleven years of age. Going to Hogwarts for her first year if she hadn't gone missing.

"Is this little girl the one who had her magic drained?" asks Harry, following Tom out of his bedroom. Tom leads them toward the dining room.

"The corpse was unrecognizable; its face was burnt off," says Tom. "With the magic gone as well, there was no signature to check. It may have been Alice or it may have been one of the other four children missing. Logic says it should be the first child who had gone missing, but we've both found criminals are hardly logical."

Harry frowns at the dismal information, but is saved from answering when Tanaka, his older butler, greets them warmly and opens the dining room's double doors for them. "Good morning," he says politely, and nods when Tanaka bows at the waist.

The dining room is expansive, with large windows letting in huge amounts of light. The dining table is long and white, filled to the brim with expensive and exquisite English treats such as scones and biscuits with the accompanying jam. White hydrangeas complete the look, hanging delicately from both the ceiling and selected chairs. He sends Tom a look of annoyance, because really, must it be such an occasion every single time they have a meal? Just because the devil didn't have to sleep, didn't mean he had to waste time doing things like this. They weren't even having guests!

Tom sends him a closed-eyed smile back, looking serene as always. He pulls out the chair at the head of the table for Harry, and Harry obliges, sitting down and immediately going for the cup of steaming tea that's waiting for him.

"It seems as if they're targeting children that won't be missed," muses Harry. The two of them are sitting in a small café in the middle of Diagon Alley, snacking on both tea and biscuits after a long afternoon of questioning storeowners. "Alice was an orphan, with only her blood making her stand out. So why her? She hadn't even started Hogwarts yet."

"Perhaps for the very reason you stated earlier, my lord," says Tom. "They want magical children that won't be missed. And we already know they're draining these children of their magic."

"Rituals," says Harry, slowly. "Someone's performing rituals on these kids. And the requirements are pureblooded children. That's why they haven't gone after the Muggleborns yet."

"Ah," says Tom, "Perhaps the Queen isn't sending us on a wild goose chase after all."

"You think it's Death Eaters then?"

"Yes," says Tom and Harry narrows his eyes at the devil.

"You knew since last night, didn't you?"

Tom inclines his head, "Very good, my lord."

Harry sighs, "One day I'll figure these cases out before you. However, if the perpetrators are really Death Eaters, why throw out the body where it could be found? They have spells to get rid of a body for good."

"Perhaps they want to be caught," says Tom. "By giving us false clues, they can lead us far away from their true purpose."

"Gathering magic…" sounds out Harry, "they're going to use that magic to bring out the Dark Lord."

"Or the Dark Lord himself is going to use that magic to make himself stronger," points out Tom.

Harry frowns, "We don't have enough information to know for sure. Can we visit the town where the last victim was found?"

"There'll be no point," says Tom. "They've already moved the body and I've seen both."

"So we're stuck again," says Harry and Tom pointedly takes one of the scones off of the center of the table and places it on Harry's plate.

"Yes, I have contacts working on gathering more information about the other five children. Which means there is nothing more for you to do but sit there and eat your scone."

Harry frowns, "Have you been talking to the Queen again?"

"She sends me letters every once in a while," says Tom. "Besides, you do need a break."

"There's children out there missing," says Harry. "They might be going through the same exact thing I went through. I can't just take a break."

"You can," says Tom, patiently. "If you burn yourself out, then what use would you be? And you are helping, because you've enlisted me to help."

Harry frowns because he can't really argue against Tom because he knows the devil will be more help than him in any aspect anyway. He sighs, "Shouldn't you want me to get my revenge faster? Then you can eat my soul and all."

"Too much suffering makes it overly sweet," says Tom, and Harry rolls his eyes because he knows the devil's teasing him. "Besides," continues Tom, "I'm having fun being your butler right now. I'm perfectly happy postponing my feast for a little while longer."

Harry makes a face at that, but when Tom's eyes cut to the scone still sitting innocently on his plate, he obediently starts to nibble at the blueberry scone.

They hit dead end after dead end.

There's just not enough information, even with Tom searching around. The five children were relatively unknown foremost, and they didn't have any contacts to interrogate.

Which meant Harry had to accept more and more invitations from the Queen to go to her Court. It had been a tiring week, catering to the nobles and especially to the Queen's granddaughter. Harry's pretty sure the Queen's already angling for him to marry her.

Harry sighs heavily, and then groans, plunking his head down on the table in front of him in pure annoyance.

There's the sound of the door opening and Harry doesn't look up, immediately knowing who the newcomer is. After all, only one person would ever dare to enter his office without permission.

"Is something the matter, my lord?" comes Tom's amused voice.

"I'm so sick of all these balls. We're not meant to play nice! We're supposed to solve cases and help people."

"Ah," says Tom, his tone understanding. "Good thing this just came in."

Harry looks up warily, unsure if he should trust his devil or not. When Tom just hands him a letter scuffed up by an owl's talons, he immediately knows something's wrong. If it's been carried by an owl, then it couldn't possibly be from the Queen.

"Is it safe to open?" he asks, and Tom looks amused.

"I wouldn't give you something dangerous, would I?"

"Need I remind you of what happened the last time I opened a letter from you?"

"Harmless fun, my lord," says Tom. "It was for your birthday, after all."

"Right," says Harry, and then he opens the envelope. There's only one thing in there, a slip of paper with handwriting on it. He gingerly takes it out, scanning the text with a small frown. "Evelyn Woods," he reads out loud. "First year at Hogwarts."

"If it came to us," starts Tom, and Harry frowns.

"It doesn't look very official though," says Harry. "What if it's a false lead? It's not from the Queen, for sure."

"You let me worry about that, my lord," says Tom, and he reaches over, picking up the small slip of paper with two fingers. "We'll contact Hogwarts to confirm. We'll keep it a little secret from the Queen for now."

"She won't be very happy about that if she finds out," remarks Harry.

"She won't," says Tom, and Harry nods, getting up from his seat to head to the one fireplace connected to the Floo.

A/N: sorry, for the delay in updating! So names...victim names...I suck at making OC's, so please ignore all the random names haha.

Thanks as always for the lovely reviews and favs :3