"You're right. His core is acting up," Penelope said as she scanned the computer screen.

Harry sat down heavily in the chair. "This can't be good," he said. "What do you think is happening?"

"His magic is growing faster than his body…"

"When will it stop?"

"Who knows? I have never heard of a case like this."

"We need to age him. It's the only way."

Penelope swiveled around to face Harry. "Until we know how he became de-aged, we won't know how to age him."

"Which brings me to my next point. He remembers some stuff."

"As in his memory is coming back?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't think it's coming back, per se. I think it's always been there. Or bits of it is still there."

The two doctors stared at each other in contemplation. Penelope quirked her brow at him. Harry groaned and leaned back against the chair. "Not the library," he whined.

Harry didn't have a problem with the medical library as is. He had a problem with the people in it. Namely, Ginny.

His clinical hours ended by seven. He was in Draco's room by seven fifteen. He had managed to bring it back to its original state, much to Draco's annoyance. Harry could tell that the boy was still miffed at him because he wasn't received by a grin. An angry pout welcomed him into the room.

"Hey," Harry said with a smile. He didn't get a reply. "How are you feeling?" The pout grew fiercer. "Had your supper?" A scowl followed. "Won't talk to me?" He shook his head curtly. "Well, then. I guess I'll just go," Harry said, making a show of turning around and walking away.

"Wait," Draco whined.

"Hmm?" Harry asked, cocking his head to the side.

"I'm angry at you."

"Oh? I hadn't noticed."

"You made my forest go away."

Harry nodded solemnly. "That I did."

"So I'm angry."

"And if I said I was sorry, what would you do?"

Draco crossed his arms in front of him, his scowl returning.

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

The scowl slipped away with the pout. "It's okay," Draco said begrudgingly, staring at the floor with purpose.

"Did you want to come to the library with me?"

The blond head shot up. "Huh?"

"Fifth floor. Library."

"Oh…"

"Do you want to come?"

Draco blinked at Harry in uncertainty. Then he nodded.

"Great," Harry said, beckoning Draco to follow him. The boy scrambled out of bed and followed him out of the room. "So, what did you do today?"

Draco mumbled about drawing and reading.

"Any more headaches?"

"No."

They didn't exchange words for the next few minutes as they walked up the stairs towards the hospice. The library was situated there because it was the quiet area and most of the children loved the idea of having books at their fingertips. Harry turned off at the landing, holding the glass door open for Draco. The boy stared up in awe at the brilliant roof that was a dome of windows. He could see the pink sky as clearly as if he were outside. The reception area was circular with doors lining along its walls. Each door led to a corridor with large bedroom suites. One of the larger double doors opened into the library. The couches spread across the waiting area were half-filled with parents, friends, and children. Everyone talked in whispers, as though that were the norm. Harry had always felt queasy walking into the floor. This was the floor where children beyond the ability to be repaired were led. Harry knew that most, if not all, of the children on this floor would die sometime in the near future. It was this that he couldn't handle. Death of a child was as painful as the death of a friend for Harry.

Draco's hand wrapped around his fingers and squeezed lightly. Reassuringly.

"Where is it?" the boy asked, a little too loud for the room.

Harry jerked his head at the door to the right. Draco pulled Harry along as he traipsed into the musty library. If possible, it was even quieter in the large space. Tables were half-filled with Healers, Mediwizards, parents, and children. A quarter of the library was sectioned off for the patients while the majority of it was filled with tomes of medical journals and articles.

Harry approached one of the dozen wooden stands by the windows. Draco was awestruck by the magnitude of the library. Atop the stands were blank sheets of parchment – the catalogue. Harry pressed his wand against it and muttered, "Healer Harry James Potter. Access to records on physical de-aging, aging potions and or spells, physical manifestations of overpowering magic."

Scrolling writing appeared on the parchment, black ink writing titles of books and page numbers of over twenty kinds. Harry grabbed the parchment and set off to the front desk, preparing himself mentally by holding on to Draco's hand with a death grip. He needed a hold on reality whenever he met with Ginny. For the present, he was going to use Draco.

"Hey," he said with a smile as he stopped by the desk.

Ginny looked up from her binding at the familiar voice. "Harry!" she squealed, jumping out of her chair and winding across the table to squeeze the breath out of him. "I haven't seen you in forever!" she said animatedly.

"Been busy," Harry said meekly.

"Sure. Busy enough not to bother coming up a flight of stairs?" she admonished, her hands on her hips. Harry merely blushed at this. "How have you been?" she asked.

"Great, great…"

"Good. Who's this?"

Harry looked down at the boy attached to him. "It's D – um, Ryder. One of my patients," he said.

"And I'm assuming you didn't come up here to just chat," Ginny said, cocking her brow.

Harry smiled sheepishly as he handed her the parchment. She tsked with a curl of her lip as she fed the paper into a cataloging machine without giving it a second glance. "Research? You hate research," she said as she waited for the books to be transported to the compartment in the cabinet.

"I know," Harry said glumly.

"Can't get any minions to do it?"

He shook his head in response, not wanting to divulge anything else.

"So… Let's talk about your love life."

With a thunk, the books arrived. Harry gulped nervously as he looked pointedly at the cabinet. Ginny took no notice, evidently more interested in gossip than anything else. After a few seconds, Harry realized that he wouldn't be getting his books until he answered her questions.

"What love life?"

She rolled her eyes as she turned her back to him and pulled the large, dusty volumes of books out of the compartment. "You're hopeless," she muttered.

"Why can't you just let it go?" he asked, gathering the mountainous volume of tomes in his arms. "You and Molly won't give me a break!"

"Yeah, because you're the most eligible bachelor around."

"See, this is why I never come up here."

"Because I'm talking sense?"

"No," Harry replied curtly, scowling at her before turning on his heel to find a table.

"When I'm finished up here, we're going to have a chat, Potter," she called out.

He slumped at this and walked faster, moving as far away from the reception desk as possible. Draco followed with a mild expression of amusement and confusion on his face. "Who is she?" the boy asked.

"Nobody," Harry replied, opting to sit at one of the corner desks that seated two. He picked Draco up and sat him firmly on the chair.

"No," Draco said patiently. "She's somebody. What's her name?"

Harry couldn't help chuckling at Draco's words. "Ginny."

"Hmm," the boy said importantly as he took a book from the pile and started to read it upside down. Harry had to clamp his teeth together to stop from snorting with laughter. He watched Draco 'read' for a while longer before getting to his research.

As expected more than half of the reports didn't pertain to de-aging. After quickly skimming through them, Harry discarded them with a flick of his wand, returning them to the circulation desk. The papers were easy to read. The books were a pain because of its structure. It was also getting difficult to write notes because Draco wasn't being all that pleasant after being made to sit in the chair for an hour.

"I'm bored," he pouted.

"Mhm," Harry murmured distractedly, letting his quill take notes for him as he pointed out sentences with his wand.

"Let's do something fun."

"Like what?" Harry asked, flicking to the bottom of the pile to see if he had missed anything.

"Where are the toys?"

"Around," Harry said vaguely.

"I'm going to go find them!" Draco said in excitement, jumping down from his seat.

"Whoa," Harry exclaimed, pulling the child back by the collar of his shirt. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Toys," Draco sulked.

"Really?"

"You won't play with me."

Harry smiled slightly. "Right. Because I'm working."

"So I'm going to play with toys."

It sounded reasonable to both Harry and Draco. The man sighed in defeat and tapped the boy's head with his wand, placing a magical marker so he could be found later. "Alright. But don't get into any trouble, understand?"

Draco nodded quickly, eager to get out of the stuffy library.

"And stay on this floor."

The boy nodded again, shifting from foot to foot.

"Go ahead."

With a happy giggle, he took off towards the door. Harry shook his head thoughtfully as he returned to his research. Not that he wanted to. Everything he found was morbid because all the de-aging cases seemed to end in painful death. There were many ways a person could become de-aged – potions, ancient spells, magical creatures, allergic reactions, and more. Usually re-aging depends on how the person was de-aged. Unfortunately, Harry had no idea what had happened to Draco. So he wrote down all the possible ways to counteract the effects. Making the potion was a long and tedious process. It was difficult to de-age a person who had been hit with a spell. Harry prayed that Draco wasn't of this kind. Giving the person the right antidote could reduce the allergic reaction. There was no way to reverse de-aging that may have occurred during an attack by a magical creature.

What unsettled Harry the most was that patients with this complex did not live long enough to be re-aged. Their magical core was unstable because it continued to grow while the person was still bound in their young body. Harry knew that this was what was happening with Draco. There wasn't a lot of research done on how long it would take before the magic grew beyond the patient's means. Harry needed to move quickly. He would need to push the Minister into giving him more information.

At this thought, his mind flickered to the night before, when the Unmentionables had assaulted him. After a few mumbled apologies, they had vanished from the street. Harry figured they were hunting for answers, the same as him. On the one hand, he was glad that he didn't have to work alone in helping Draco. On the other hand, he was terrified that he was working with the most dangerous men in the Ministry. He hoped that with enough pressure, the Minister would divulge information dire to re-aging Draco.

"So," Ginny said loudly, screeching the chair obnoxiously. Harry had to use all his strength not to pound his head against the table repeatedly. "Tell me everything."

"There's nothing to tell, Gin."

"Now that's where your mistaken, lover boy."

"Shut it."

"Tell me."

Harry made a growl of frustration. "There's nothing to tell. So what am I supposed to say?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the paper.

"Fine," Ginny said. "Then marry me."

Now Harry really did pound his head against the table repeatedly. "Do you take pleasure in tormenting me?"

"Yes," she said simply. Then she got down on one knee and looked up at Harry with large, innocent eyes. "Harry James Potter, I have loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you."

Harry closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. The library went quiet at the loud proclamation. He glanced at the staring faces. "Nothing to see here, folks," he said bitingly. "And you," he added, turning to Ginny. "Get up."

"I haven't finished!" Ginny said indignantly. "Where was I? Um… love – right, loved you since I first saw you. Moving on," she murmured, grabbing Harry's hand in hers. "You used to tease me with those deep green eyes and heart-wrenching smile. And I was always –"

"Ginny!" Harry interrupted with a groan, trying to pull his hand away as he blushed. Soft giggles were emanating from the surrounding tables. "You're embarrassing me," he hissed.

"And I was always behind you," Ginny kept going, loud enough to silence Harry's protest. "But now I feel like I have finally caught up. I am right here, waiting. Will you marry me?"

Applause broke out in the library. "Oh, shut up, you lot," Harry said sharply, scowling at them. Then he turned to Ginny and said, "And no. For the millionth time, no. I won't marry you."

Ginny pouted tragically, her lips trembling. "That wasn't the millionth time, you know? Just the forty sixth."

"Go. Away."

She stuck her tongue out at him as she got up on her feet. "I'll get you one day, Harry. Just you wait."

"I'll wait an eternity, thank you very much."

"Your face looks like a hippogriff's."

"Your arse looks like a hippogriff's."

"Shut up, Boy-Who-Snores."

"I will when you do, slug eater."

"Why, I ought to –"

"Not before I give you –"

"Don't you dare –"

"Put that away!"

Harry and Ginny glared at each other, the former with a rolled up report in his hand and the latter with a sharpened quill in hers. The library dissolved into rambunctious laughter.

A moment later, sudden realization struck Harry and he lowered his 'weapon'. "That was a really good speech!" he said in surprise.

Ginny wiggled her eyebrows in acknowledgment. "I know, right? I worked hard on that one. Didn't think you'd avoid me for that long."

"I'll have to start avoiding you for longer if it means I get to hear things like that. I might just have to jot that one down."

"Hey, hey, hey! My words, I get first dibs on them." The library started to quiet down now. Ginny sat back down on the chair and kept talking like she hadn't just made a scene. "Also, did you hear about Ron?"

Harry frowned. "What about Ron?"

"He's in the doghouse," she said gleefully.

Harry tried not to grin at Ginny's evil smirk. "And why is that?"

"He let Rose get on a broom."

Harry stared at the woman in unadulterated shock. "What the hell?"

"I know! She's, what, two?"

"What was he thinking?"

"Obviously he wasn't!"

They glanced at each other before bursting out into helpless giggles. "He deserves it!" Harry exclaimed between gasps.

"Are you imagining Rose toppling off the broom into the hedges, or is it just me?"

"Just you and your morbid imagination," he laughed behind his hand.

"Hey," Ginny said quickly. "Where's the kid?"

"Huh?"

"The kid you came with."

"Oh, he's hunting for toys," Harry said, shrugging.

"Whatcha reading?"

He rolled his eyes. "Nosey much?"

"No more than usual," she said, grabbing Harry's notes from under his palm. "Ooh! De-aging! Fancy," she said in awe.

"Just a case I'm working on," Harry said vaguely.

"Different kind of case, eh?"

"Yeah. You can say that again."

"Well, how was this patient de-aged?"

Harry shook his head. "Absolutely no clue."

Ginny frowned. "Well, that sucks. There has to be some clue."

Harry tapped his foot unconsciously against the stone, contemplating his friend. "If I said he may have been near Dementors?" Harry asked.

Ginny smoothed her hair as she concentrated. Then her eyes went wide. "Wait! That boy is this patient, isn't he?" she asked. Harry didn't respond. Ginny's eyes shone with excitement. "I wanna see him!"

"No, you don't," Harry said sullenly.

"Yeah, I do."

"He looks like any other boy. Why would you want to see a random boy?"

"Because he's not random! He's de-aged! Freakin' fantastic!"

"Yeah. Fantastic until he dies…"

"Well, yeah, obviously. But until then it's –"

"There is no 'until'!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm trying to make sure he won't die!"

"Fine, fine. Just Summon him already," Ginny said dismissively.

"You'll go away after you see him?"

"Probably not, but worth a shot," she said snidely, earning a kick on the shins for that.

Harry flicked his wand out in a short series of patterns. A minute later, Draco appeared around the corner, walking idly. "There he is," Harry said.

"Come here, you," Ginny said with a grin, holding out her hands at the boy. He glanced at Harry inquisitively. The man shrugged.

"Why?" Draco asked, his voice not quite masking suspicion.

Now Ginny pouted and turned to Harry. "What did you tell him?"

Harry held out his hands in surrender, trying hard to stop his smile for showing. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

She made a face at him before turning back to Draco. "I don't bite," she quipped, looking like she had every intention of doing just the opposite.

Draco sidled towards Harry in what he thought was an inconspicuous shuffle. In reality, it was quite comical to watch. It also explained Harry's loud snort of laughter, followed by shaky chuckles. Draco reached Harry safely in a few more steps, never taking his eyes off of Ginny. He hoisted himself up onto Harry's lap and settled down, scowling at the redhead.

"He's a smart one, isn't he?" Ginny asked, her eyes narrowing dramatically as she looked at the blond boy.

"Sure is," Harry said between laughs.

"De-aged, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Well, ask him."

Harry blinked at his friend. "Ask him what?"

"If he saw Dementors."

"He doesn't even know what Dementors are," Harry said. Then he stopped. "Do you?" he asked, now looking down at Draco.

"Huh?"

"Dementors. Do you know what they are?"

Draco frowned up at Harry. "What?"

"Dementors?"

The frown deepened. "What are Denemtors?"

"See?" Harry said, looking at Ginny in derision.

"Maybe if you describe it to –"

"No way in hell am I describing a Dementor to him!" Harry interjected in horror.

"Fine," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "I'll describe it to him."

"Ginny, you have no clue how to handle kids, do you?" he asked in helplessness.

"He's not a child. He's probably a creepy old guy. Imagine that. There's a creepy old guy on your lap, Harry."

Harry laughed warily. "Do you take anything seriously?"

"No point," she remarked casually. "Anyways, back to him." She looked down at Draco. "Do you remember seeing black cloaks?" she asked.

"When?'

"Before you came to the hospital."

Draco shrugged.

"Okay," Ginny said slowly. "Was it night time?"

He shrugged again. "It was dark."

"There. See?" she said triumphantly, looking at Harry. "We're getting somewhere."

"Yeah. Great to know he was taken in the dark," he muttered.

Ginny conveniently ignored Harry. "Okay, so you were in the dark. Was it hot or cold?"

Draco thought about this for a second. "Cold," he said thoughtfully, curving against Harry.

"Good. Did you hear anything? Or was it quiet?"

He twitched his nose reflexively. "It smelled gross."

"What did?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know. It just smelled gross."

"What smell was it?"

"I don't know."

Ginny nodded. "That's fine. So, was it quiet?"

"Yeah… I guess."

"You can't remember seeing anything?" she asked. Harry was listening intently, his chin on the crown of Draco's head.

"It was dark," Draco said deliberately, as though wondering why the woman couldn't get that into her head.

Ginny smirked at the response. "Right, of course it was. Next question then. Were you happy or sad?"

"Huh?" Draco asked, evidently not expecting the question.

"That night. Were you feeling happy or did you feel sad?"

He squirmed uncomfortably. "I don't know," he murmured.

Ginny gave Harry a look. He sighed and glanced down at the boy. "Were you scared?" he asked.

Draco twisted his shirt in his fingers, looking at his hem with a newfound interest.

Ginny mouthed, 'Guess he was' with a nod. Harry nodded faintly. "Did you hear anything?" he asked.

"I don't want to talk anymore."

They frowned at Draco's words. "Why not?" Harry asked.

"I don't."

"Because… you remember?" Ginny asked.

Draco held still, his fingers freezing against the fabric. Harry felt it. "You do?" he asked in astonishment.

"I want to see Mummy."

Harry stifled a groan. He looked at Ginny helplessly. She looked troubled as well. "Why do you need to see Mummy?" she asked.

Draco swallowed loudly. "I want to see her," he said thickly.

"Something you heard scared you?"

"I just want to see her."

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco. "She's not here," he said, trying to figure out a way to make Draco understand.

"I want her now."

"Why?" Ginny prodded.

Draco tried to break out of Harry's grip. "I'll find her," he said, tears streaming.

"You can't find her," Harry said rapidly, tightening his hold.

"I can find her," the boy sobbed.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Harry murmured, hugging the boy close.

Ginny's eyes sharpened and a confused frown dawned. "D – Draco?" she breathed, staring at Harry. He closed his eyes in frustration as he held the crying boy against him. "Malfoy?" Ginny asked in shock.

"I have to help her."

"Help Mum?" Harry asked. Draco nodded. "Why?"

"She's scared," the boy whispered.

"I don't understand," Harry said desperately.

Draco renewed his efforts to shake free from Harry's arms. "Let go," he said through gritted teeth.

"No."

"Let me go," Draco said angrily, kicking and punching.

"Draco, listen –"

"Harry," Ginny gasped, staring at the table. The quills and books were trembling from unseen forces.

Harry quickly picked Draco up and turned him around so they were now facing each other. "Stop," he said, taking in the boy's teary cheeks and furious eyes.

"Let go," Draco said, pushing at Harry with his arms.

"No." The table started to shudder and Harry felt waves of warmth hitting him. "You need to calm down. You need to stop. Now."

Draco let out a snarl of frustration. Loud fluttering sounded around them as the papers flew to the ground and books swirled up in the air.

"Ginny," Harry said shakily. "Get everyone out of here."

"What?" she asked, still in shock as she stared at the desk that was now slamming against the wall furiously.

"Get everyone out," he said urgently, finally looking at Ginny. She saw the terror in his green eyes. "You have to get everyone out. Please." She nodded in a trance and got up. "And," Harry added. "His name's Ryder, okay?" She nodded again, glancing at the shaking boy in Harry's hands.

Harry didn't notice her take off because he had turned his eyes towards Draco again. "You have to tell me what's wrong with Mum," he said.

"I don't know," Draco muttered, punctuating each word with a harsh kick. "Let go."

Harry pulled out his wand and created a quick barrier between their side of the library and the rest. "I can help, Draco," he pleaded.

"You can't," the boy spat out.

"I can. Just tell me. What happened to you?"

"He hurt Mummy," Draco shouted. The table splintered against the wall. Harry shielded the boy from the flying shards of wood. "Stop him!"

Harry crushed Draco against him, trying to strengthen the trembling body. "Don't do this," he said, feeling the boy heat up past normalcy against him. "I'll stop him, okay? I'll stop him from hurting Mum."

"You're lying," Draco screamed. "You didn't stop him!"

"Please, Draco –"

"I can't help her," he sobbed. "I can't – she's – please. I just want to see her."

"I'm sorry," Harry said helplessly.

"He killed her!"

A violent thunder announced the walls caving in. Harry felt Draco stiffen and then fall limp. "No," he gasped as he stumbled away. A slab of stone hit his leg, causing him to fall to his knees. The windows shattered, sending shards of glass flying out into the street. The last thing Harry felt were small fingers clutching his robe and a sharp pain in his head.

Harry awoke with a start, whipping his arms out and bolting upright. "Where is he?" he asked in fright. A second later he realized that he couldn't see. He roved his hands over his bed for his wand, but came up empty.

"Lumos."

Harry shielded his eyes from the light. "Holy fuck," he swore, nearly falling out of bed when he saw the Unmentionables by the bed.

"Sorry," Brock said gruffly, shifting his weight.

Once Harry got over his shock, he glanced at the five men with a cleared head. "Where's Draco?" he asked, feeling nauseous and not quite wanting to hear the wrong answer.

"He was de-aged…" Rainer said quietly, tilting his head at Harry.

"Is he alright?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Yeah."

Harry released his hold on his sheets as relief flooded him. "Good," he murmured. "Where is he?"

Brock looked at Tarver, apparently waiting for him to give the answer. Tarver stuffed his hands into his pockets. "The Ministry…" was all he said.

Harry frowned. "Huh? What about the Ministry?"

"He's in their medical facility. Sedated."

"Sedated?" Harry exhaled in confusion. "What?"

"He can't – his magic is too strong. He can't control it," Dune said.

Harry blinked at the men blankly. "So they sedated him?"

"Yeah."

"And took him away…"

"Yeah."

"Can they help him?"

The men shrugged, unsure.

"Was anyone hurt?"

Brock snorted. "Besides you?"

"Y – yeah. Besides me," Harry stammered.

"I think you being hurt was enough. The place was crawling with press."

"Oh…"

"You have no idea, do you?"

"Idea of what?"

"You were buried under stone. Fuck, you should be dead!" Tarver exclaimed.

Harry's jaw dropped in shock. "Wh – how – how long was I out?"

"Three days today."

"Shit!" Harry swore, pushing away the covers and scrambling to get up. "We don't have time. We need to figure out what happened to him," he said hastily. The moment he was up on his feet, he staggered back and fell onto his bed. "Whoa," he muttered, his head pounding painfully.

"Yeah," Rainer said. "Moving is not such a good idea for you right now."

"Damn it," Harry muttered, dropping his agony-ridden head in his hands. "I need to –" He stopped. Then he looked up at the Unmentionables. "You."

The men looked at each other, wondering how delusional Harry really was. "Yeah. Us," Brock said, humoring Harry.

"You can help!"

Rainer and Dune looked at each other and shrugged. Tarver frowned at Harry. Brock looked interested. "With what?"

"We need to figure out what happened to Narcissa."

"Who?"

"Draco's mum," Harry said in disbelief.

"Um… Why?" Tarver asked.

"It's what got him upset. He thinks she was murdered."

Dune made an ungodly sound. "What the hell?"

"I thought it was…" Brock trailed off.

Harry shook his head. "He doesn't think so."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Tarver asked.

"I think he met with the Dementors. And someone else…" Harry answered. The men looked unsure as they stared at him. "The last thing he remembered is nighttime, the cold and a stench. Then he started screaming about helping his mother. It must have been triggered," he explained.

"By the Dementors? He's never had trouble with them before," Rainer said, running his fingers through his brown hair. "We've captured so many."

"It wasn't just the Dementors. Don't you see? Someone hit him with Sectumsempra first. He couldn't fend off the Dementors," Harry said insistently.

"How was he de-aged then?"

Harry was at a loss for words at this question. He just shrugged.

Tarver sighed impatiently. "This isn't enough information. We need to figure out who was there," he said.

"Start with Narcissa, then," Harry reiterated. "He thinks she was killed. We need to find out what happened to her."

"It was all over the papers," Dune said. "The spell was from her own wand, for heaven's sakes!"

Harry resisted the urge to strangle Dune. "What if Draco went looking for him?" he asked tiredly.

The men perked up at this question. "What?"

"What if that's what Draco went to Cardiff for? To find this man?"

"N – no. He – he would tell us," Tarver stammered. "He'd tell us."

"If there's one thing he can do, it's keep secrets," Harry murmured.

"You think he went looking for – hell, we don't know who he was looking for," Brock said, kicking the wall vehemently.

"Whoever it was had something to do with Narcissa. Why the fuck is this so hard to understand?" Harry asked in exasperation.

"Because he's never lied to us…" Marty said quietly. Harry realized that this was the first time he had heard the slight brunette talk. The men grew quiet at the statement, shuffling uncomfortably.

"He is capable of lying," Harry said deliberately. "He can lie."

"Not to us."

"Even if it was to protect you?"

Marty's blue eyes pierced Harry. "We don't need protecting," he said calmly.

"Maybe he didn't think so," Harry said.

The room was bathed in silence for a long while. Marty never took his eyes off of Harry. The latter marveled at how important trust was to these men. Their lives were placed for safekeeping in each other's hands. Harry understood why it was so difficult for the men to accept the possibility that Draco had lied to them.

"Narcissa died… two years ago?" Marty asked. Harry nodded.

"That's when he changed," Tarver murmured.

Harry piqued at this absent confession. "Changed… How?"

Brock shook his head despondently. "His mother died. Of course he changed," he said. "He just – he was brooding a lot. I mean, he was always like that. But after she died, he just seemed to be more so. We didn't – we never thought much of it…"

"He was reckless?" Harry asked.

"No. The opposite. He would get angry at us for being reckless," Rainer said.

"And…"

"I don't know," Tarver said. "He didn't talk as much, I guess."

"But," Dune interrupted. "We didn't even notice it after a while. We just got used to it, I guess."

"You think it was because he knew something?" Marty asked Harry.

"Maybe. I don't know. He doesn't really have any memories. I don't know what happened to him," he said vaguely.

"You want us to find out what happened to Narcissa…"

"Yes."

The men looked at Marty, who was gazing at the floor with a thoughtful expression. "Okay," he murmured. "We'll find out."