Ch. 6 – In Sickness


A/N: Greetings! A surprise update for those of you in Springdale. Yes, I'm busy as can be and won't be on again until Monday morning so if you have questions, email me and I'll get to them shortly.

Rated T for adult situations, harsh language, and Ron's filthy mouth. Sadly, no smut still.

Hello to my fans in Hong Kong, Uruguay, and Sweden. Thanks for reading!

Finally, a disclaimer: I'm not Jo (nor do I have her stylist or her cheeky wit!) and she only lets me play in her Hagrid styled gazebo once every second blue moon. – DG


"Ron."

Ron continued to read, ignoring his name being spoken. Each of the details Smythe included in his report was useful yet frustrating. There was absolutely nothing included that would help them breach the wards and get inside to see if Mum was there. Director Robards might tell them that they might be stuck on their thumbs but he was going to think of some way where they could extract his Mum from the bastard who kidnapped her.

They needed to know what the property inside the wards looked like. Was the place like the Burrow, small rooms and plenty of tight spaces where fighting wand to wand would be treacherous? Was it like the Malfoy residence, where there was so much room you could get lost? Or even something like Hogwarts, with plenty of hidden rooms and secret passageways?

"Ron, stop it. You're annoying the hell outta me."

"I'm not doing anything, Harry."

"You are and it's annoying me. You're breathing too loud, sighing every twenty seconds, and twirling your quill. It's bothering me."

Ron put his quill down and leaned far over the desk. "I hate sitting on my arse while Mum is still out there. I don't know if she's sick, or injured, or hurt." Ron blew out a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. "I could be there, doing something, instead of sitting on my bum, doing bloody paperwork."

"Look, we need to stay caught up on paperwork. Since we're not needed for standing watch, we have to get this done." Harry looked around the department before leaning in. "Do you want to have to do paperwork for a month after we rescue Mum, or do you want to take time off and spend it with her, and Hermione? Quit trying to do other people's jobs, like the guys in MLS. Let them do the locale interviews with kneazle women who serve badly brewed tea. Besides, how many people in that area would be surprised if they knew that a mass murdered was living right across the motorway?"

"I hate it when you're right. Been hanging around Hermione too much, I reckon."

Harry smirked. "No more than you have and probably less now that you married her."

Ron smirked for a second before his face turned sour.

"Look, I don't want to pry, but are you ok? I heard you and Hermione talking, but I –"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I am. Hermione and I row sometimes. She sets her mind on how things should be done and gets barmy when shite goes sideways or people do things differently. She gets frustrated and we row about it." Ron shrugged at the realization. "Then again, rowing with her helps me too, when I'm at a loss and she gets me sorted. But what works for us doesn't necessarily work for everyone else."

"And here I thought marriage would reduce the rowing to nothing more than petty bickering."

Ron snorted in response. "Did you honestly think marriage would change her that much? Pshaw. She might be my wife but she's practically your sister. If anything, she pushes harder and longer because she knows I'm there for her." Ron smiled softly. "And I know she's there for me too, even when we're rowing." Ron looked across his desk. "That's the benefit of marriage. We can fight like kneazles and still be good once we're done."

"Yeah, and wearing out the bed doesn't hurt either, does it?" Harry cheeked.

"Sod off, Harry." Ron grinned at him.

"You lived with me, remember?"

"Yeah, and we needed it then, didn't we? That first summer was a mess."

The doors to the department opened. Narcissa Malfoy strode in, followed by Bill Weasley, two members of MLS, and Hermione.

"Fuck, this isn't good." Harry and Ron jumped up from their desk and followed the group as they traversed through the department to the Director's office.

"Come in," He growled.

The director saw the gathering enter his office and patiently stand aside until the room was sealed and silenced. He held his hand out to Mrs. Malfoy where she took it with grace. "Mrs. Malfoy, an unexpected pleasure. If you have come to our department this afternoon, it cannot be good."

"Director Robards, thank you for sending Auror Potter with your request." She looked at Harry and watched him nod slightly. "When he called upon me this morning with a need for my services, one that only I could uniquely fulfill, I was more than willing to assist." Narcissa adjusted her skirt demurely. "With Mr. Weasley's timely assistance, my efforts were for naught. He was unable to breach the wards on the property in question."

"I thought you knew what you were doing, Weasley!"

Bill's face contorted, stretching the remnant scars on his face. "I do, Director. I'm the best cursebreaker Gringott's has in the world. But my evidence is that the bloke in question mucked up casting the Fidelus charm on his property. With a blood relative, namely Mrs. Malfoy, she should have been able to walk right through those wards. That's how the Fidelus Charm works. Even if he used a secret family spell, since she was related by marriage, via bonding, she should have had access to his residence in question. That's how blood magic works. Instead?" Bill wrung his hands. "It's a wonder that she didn't perish in the honeypot trap he set."

A myriad of voices broke out, each talking over one another. All of them patently ignored the witch sitting in front of the director, waiting patiently for the cacophony to settle before speaking again.

"What Mr. Weasley is trying to tell you is that the house is protected by corrupted blood magic. If I have to guess, it requires anyone who wants to pass the wards to have, shall we say, a particular dark mark on their skin, possibly on their arm." Narcissa pushed up the cuff on her arm and showed pale, unblemished skin. "But then you already knew I never took the mark, Director."

She deftly pulled the jacket sleeve down her arm. "I'm afraid that the only ones who could safely pass the property are dead. I do recall reading of their demise, correct?"

"Are you saying there's a further subset of magic, all predicated on restricted magic, to make it worse? I know about blood magic, but this is – "

"Yes, Miss Granger," she drawled quietly. "Not all magic is shared with all Wizarding kind. Some is kept separate, untainted, pure, if you will, and only shared in families and handed down from parent to child. Some magic is kept in families deemed worthy of the knowledge, to protect those who would do harm out of spite or ignorance. There are also some schools of learning where they bind their knowledge to their pupils, so that information cannot be shared with others who are, shall we say, less than privileged. I'm well aware of the curriculum at Hogwarts, and what they teach, but not all magic is known, or shared willingly." Mrs. Malfoy turned back to the director sitting in front of her. "But that is what makes Mr. Weasley very good at his job. He realizes that he doesn't understand all magic, and that he also knows that not all magic is shared with everyone. He realizes, correctly, that some magic, the virulent and nefarious, is kept as a weapon, for protection, rather than for altruism. He's had experience, obviously, that not all magic is meant to be breached, broken, and sullied, by those who aren't worthy of association."

"Mrs. Malfoy, you're telling me that he's behind blood wards, and they are attuned to only those with a sodding – Sorry Mrs. Malfoy – a dark mark too?" The Director's face turned hard. "No wonder why you couldn't do it, Weasley. Corrupted dark magic has killed people for centuries."

"It would make sense since the person you are looking for is part of the Sacred 28 and would be paranoid with being set upon, interfered with, or trespassed in a Muggle setting." Mrs. Malfoy looked Ron over once before turning her attention back to the Director. "It wouldn't surprise me in the least he used these methods to keep Muggles and most of magical society at arm's length. Not all Purebloods are as accommodating or welcoming of those who in present company."

Bill stepped forward. "I tried everything legal, and a few that aren't, to break those wards. Nothing worked, sir. In my educated opinion, they are corrupted, and the only way to break them is if we had his blood, to use as the sacrifice demanded of entry."

"If Mr. Weasley was able to obtain the owner's blood, Director Robards, I'm sure that one particular spell would be able to completely counter the curse. There was a book published about two hundred years ago, Sacred Spells of Home, which would have that counter-curse in it. I don't know, however, if there are any additional copies left."

"I'm unfamiliar with that particular publication," Director Robards replied.

"I am. I studied it my first year out of Hogwarts. It's extensive," Bill added. "But that copy stays in the Gringott's research vault. It's unobtainable for us."

"The spell I'm referring to is in that book. I heard it once mentioned by my grandfather but I don't recall which specific one. From what I remember, it works similar to a Fidelus charm, but it also required more blood on the part of the one making it to work correctly." Narcissa pondered for a moment. "If he used blood from his dark mark arm, where the spell was placed by The Dark Lord, it would be contaminated with the darker magic from the mark. I think that if anyone attempted to break into it or break through the wards they would be… painfully fatal."

"You mean old Pureblood magic, if I am correct?"

"I'm afraid so. It's unfortunate that Purebloods are rather paranoid about possible breaches of their property so they resort to heinous dark magic to keep people out who have no business being there. Fidelus works well enough, if you have additional magic working with it. This particular spell, if it's the one I'm thinking of, works independently with nothing else accompanying it."

"So, if I get what you're saying, then if anyone attempted to breach the wards, going in or coming out, would meet with a rather nasty demise?"

"I'm afraid so. My grandfather mentioned a story one, of a cousin who had been disowned by their parents. This wizard was involved in the nasty business of smuggling untaxed French wine into Wales. They were certainly notorious, whatever business they ran afoul of the Aurors. Anyway, they were caught and it brought shame on the family, associating with the Muggles." She glanced around the room to make sure most were keep quiet on her comments. "Once they were released from custody, after a short stint in Azkaban, this person apparated from London to their family home in Cornwall. As the story goes, they walked up to the property and straight into the freshly erected wards. They were incinerated instantly in magical fire.

"There wasn't enough ash remaining to scatter to the winds. But then my Grandfather said it was a befitting end to someone who wasn't worthy of the Black name."

Narcissa Malfoy stood up from her chair and put her hand out. Director Robards took it between his and smiled. "Thank you for your time today. I'm appreciative that you were able to assist us even if it was unsuccessful."

"It's my pleasure, sir. But if I do come across anything in our library, I will be more than happy to have it owled to the Ministry. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Weasley, good day."

The men present watched her leave.

"Now if that isn't one cold woman, I'll eat my shoe," Auror Smythe grumbled.

"She still should have done a stint in Azkaban, her and that asshole of a husband." Ron growled out.

"No, they turned Mugwump's evidence and put the bulk of the remaining Death Eaters in Azkaban. Say what you will, but she's not a witch to be trifled with." Auror Williamson retorted.

"She lied to Voldemort, right to his face. You think anyone can cross her and live to tell about it? I know she's more pragmatic than either of family." Harry added.

Director Robards looked at the gathering. "But this doesn't fix our situation, now does it? It's corrupted magic and can't breach it, not without fatalities. So how the hell are we going to get inside those wards without anyone dying?"

"Sir," Hermione asked from the back of the office, "Does the ministry have a copy of that particular book in their library?"

"I would presume so, under Wizengamot authority, if I'm not mistaken."

"Do you want me to procure this book, and research the particular spells she's referring to? Maybe I can assist Bill with his problem."

"Go ahead, even if we are stumped right now on how to break into the bastard's property."

"Thank you, sir. I'll start forthwith."

Hermione departed, leaving the rest of the men standing with the director. "Bill, lock that door now that the women have left."

"Sir?"

"Just do it, son."

Bill pointed his wand and sealed the Door once more. "We're sealed."

"Is there a way to break through contaminated blood magic? Is there anything you've not tried, even if it's illegal?"

"No sir. You learn the first week at Gringott's that contaminated blood wards need the same contaminated blood to break them. That's why the temples at Tenochtitlan are still sealed: the original warding wizards are long dead. So there's no spell that will do that. Hermione's chasing a feral firecrab. Even if she found the book and the spell in question, we're stuck at an impasse. To break the wards, you need the same contaminated blood. To get that blood, he has to come out."

"And if you have the counter-spell for it?"

"You still need blood, sir. That's how you break anything in the Fidelus category of protective magic. Knowledge is all well and good but you need the blood as a binding component."

"Well, shite. This cocks up everything." He looked around the room and saw the five men. "So much for damn procedures. Alright, I want ideas on how we can break into that property. Anything goes."

"Sir?"

"You heard me. Anything goes. But I want this bastard and I want in his place by the end of the weekend."

"Right now, sir?"

"We'll reconvene in an hour. Weasley, if you can return in a couple of hours, so we can further discuss the ideas that are submitted."

"I'll go speak with my Supervisor and return, sir." Bill departed first, followed by the rest of the others getting on the task of breaking through the corrupted wards. Aurors Williamson and Smythe took to their seats while Harry and Ron stayed at their supervisor's desks.

"Bugger of a task, he's asking." Auror Smythe grumbled.

"How can we remove those wards from the property without alerting the Muggle Authorities and without destroying the property?"

Harry and Ron looked at one another. "You're the senior. I thought you'd know better than we would."

"This is all cocked up," Auror Williamson complained.

"How many Aurors do we have available for a bombardment?"

"10 isn't enough, Ron. There'd have to be fifty of them from all directions, all focused on one point. But that much magic on one point would also alert him of our presence. You saw the letter: Any Aurors and he uses his wand on Mum."

"I hate this shite." Jasper piped up. "We need his blood to break those wards, and we can't get to it because he's locked behind those wards. This is a bloody Gordian knot!"

"Shut it, Jasper. Keep working on realistic suggestions, not that other nonsense."

"You never read Muggle Greek mythology, did you?"

"Well, no, and why should I? They had me reading about Goblin revolts and history of English Wizards. Why would Greek muggle mythology interest me? Anyway, bombing the place with magic won't work 'cause it'll get her killed. Yes, we want to capture him, preferably alive, but her life is more important. We can run him down again, if need be."

"We can't bait him out, can we?" Ron asked while racking his brain. "Nothing else 'cept Dad won't work, will it?"

"No, that's not how blood debts work. He's already called your dad out and nothing else will suffice in substitution."

"Well, shite. I thought I'd offer myself instead."

"It won't work. It's either your Dad or no one. It's not been an issue for decades, but that's how blood debts work. No one else can pay it."

"Sod that. I'm not letting Dad step into this mess."

"Harry, you're quiet. Any bright ideas?"

"Hell, I'm stumped right now. I thought Narcissa would be able to waltz right in and we'd use her to get us information."

"Did you actually think she could do anything if she did pass the wards? Her presence would be almost impossible to explain, and then we'd be buggered if he kept her too, as another hostage. Hell, he could have killed Mum if Mrs. Malfoy walked into his house uninvited. It might have gotten her killed, too." Ron threw his quill down on the desk, messing up the parchment he was writing. "That was a bloody stupid idea, Harry."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time. But you have to admit that it helped. We know that no witch and wizard can pass the wards."

"And that's about as useful as being stuck in a room with Fiendfyre." Ron retorted

"You're not helping, Ron."

"Yeah? What else can we do to get inside those bloody wards?" Auror Smythe butted in.

"Merlin if I know. I'd ask Dad but he'd want to sneak off and do something about it and get everything mucked up."

"You think they'll let Bill continue to help?" Auror Williamson added.

"I dunno. I doubt the goblins will let him continue working for us, not without substantial galleons paid for his services."

"What if Hermione does find something in that forsaken book?"

"That's about as useful as pulling fire out of her ass. We still need the sod's blood regardless of having the proper counter-spell."

"Well, what if we had a Death Eater who could pass the wards. It's the one thing we've not tried."

Ron frowned at Harry. "You threw away our only bargaining chip, you git. Do you honestly think Draco Sodding Malfoy is going to help us, not after his Mum secured his obligation to you? You're barking. He'd laugh at us as soon as help us."

"You're right," Harry sat back in the chair. The others in the department were conversing quietly, trying to brainstorm ideas. "I took a risk and it didn't work and now we're buggered. And it's not like we can compel Lucius Malfoy to assist us."

"You have any bright ideas?" Auror Williamson looked at Ron.

"You think we could get some goblin piss, 'cause that's about all we haven't tried yet." Harry cheeked.

Ron gave Harry a quizzical look. "What about, instead of goblin piss, we look to something similar."

"Ron, I've had four hours of sleep and not enough tea. You've lost me."

"Yeah, I know. Me too. I'm knackered."

"You prat! What idea do you have?"

"Hermione's gonna go spare if I offer this idea."

"Get to it," Auror Smythe said.

"House elves," Ron said quietly while staring at the closed doors. "Think about it. We were in a warded dungeon, with no wands, and no hope of escape. And yet Dobby popped in just as easy as can be."

"What do you have in mind?"

"You think we can find a way to transform into them?'

"I can call in Kreacher and we can ask him. He might know or someone here might. It's not like the Aurors don't have their own shite that isn't taught at school."

"I think Hermione will be fine if we're just asking questions. It can't hurt and maybe he knows something we don't. It might be as simple as asking if the place has House elves inside, and he can talk to them."

"You think we can get a house elf that's inside the place to help us? If the bloke has elves, he has ownership and they'd not betray him at all." Auror Williamson added.

"And I don't think they'd take a sock from me, not this time, even if I tried."

"Shite, I hate being cornered again." Ron ran his hand through his hair.

"Any other bright ideas?" Auror Williamson replies.

"I still want to ask him questions. Maybe he knows something that we don't, about the property and all." Harry took a piece of parchment and scribbled a few notes on it.

"Anything's better than sitting on our damn thumbs."

"Maybe someone else will have a bright idea, something we've not considered."


"Everyone, my office, now!" Director Robards spoke through the department. Everyone present did as he asked, and made their way to the director's suite.

"It's been two hours. I want all potential ideas on the table regarding breaching those wards. Weasley said he can't break them, and he's tried everything he can. Remember, nothing is off the table right now."

One auror handed up his length of parchment. "Well, sir, we'd have to secure the island, but then have all available Aurors bomb the wards with magic. Eventually, it'd break down, I reckon.

"Do you wish to explain to the Muggle Prime Minister why Aurors were firing on his country, and explain to the Minister of Magic about the kidnap victim being dead? This is a rescue first, capture second, so your idea is a last resort only plan."

Another auror handed in his parchment. "Do we have any hair or skin samples of the person in question? We could infiltrate the wards if an Auror was polyjuiced."

"I'd love to do that but the last place the sod was hiding went up in magical fire. Finding one lone hair or skin flake would be harder than finding a Mermaid in the ocean. That's otherwise a terrific idea, but currently up in smoke."

A third handed in his idea. "Can we have a Dragon torch the wards?"

"Do you want to explain to the Obliviators why they have to work a month to erase the existence of a Dragon from a population of half a million Muggles? No, I have to keep that idea out of our possibilities."

Ron raised his hand while holding onto his crumpled parchment. "You said it was protected by corrupted blood magic, right, and that the cursebreaker said they couldn't be breached without the warding wizard's blood."

"That's right Weasley."

"And Mrs. Malfoy said that if it's old Pureblood magic that she mentioned, any wizard who tried to breach the wards would be incinerated, right?"

"Get to the point, Weasley."

"Would that magical limitation hinder a house elf?"

"And where will you get one of those, Weasley? I doubt Minerva will loan you an elf on a suicide mission to test out your theory."

Ron watched Hermione's expression change immediately, turning from pale to bright red to maroon, stopping for a moment in Aubergine, and finishing at green. The book in her hands dropped with a climatic thud at her feet. "Absolutely not, sir. It's illegal, according the Magical Being Act of 2001, to force a sentient being with no control over their actions on a potentially fatal situation. Absolutely not."

"I have a free elf in my employment, so we can ask him." Harry spoke up before Hermione silenced him with a deadly glare. "He can refuse."

"You do, Auror Potter?"

Harry saw Hermione sputtering on the other side of the Director's office but pointedly ignored her. "Yes, sir. I inherited him, but freed him from constrained service in July '98. He's still in my employ as a free elf, and could refuse if asked."

"Harry, no. Absolutely not. You can't."

"Clear the room. Now. Potter, Weasley, Granger – you stay."

Hermione stood on the other side of the room with her arms crossed and the picked up book dangling from one hand. Ron and Harry stood on the other side, trying to keep from withering under Hermione's furious glare.

"Speak up, Granger. Tell us why his idea isn't the best one that's been presented under the circumstances."

"You're asking a sentient being who cannot make an independent decision, without his owner and master's approval, to undertake a task that is potentially fatal."

"Kreacher's a free elf, sir. Hermione, you were there when we presented his livery for his employment. "

"They're house elves, in service to wizards. That's what they are there for." Director Robards countered her argument, ignoring Harry completely. "And if Potter has an elf that can get inside the property, that's the start of a working plan."

"You're wrong. All lives are sacred, whether you think they are disposable or not. House Elves have just as much right to make their own decisions about their lives as Wizards and Witches do." Hermione spun on her heel and stared death at Ron. "And I can't believe you would actually have the bollocks to make this suggestion."

"Damn it, Hermione, this is Mum we're talking about. I never intended to ask him to do my damn job. That's what we're not asking. You're just bent because his name came up."

"Hermione, I only made the suggestion so that we ask him if Polyjuice would work on transforming into an elf."

"I can't believe you're still that ignorant, Harry. Polyjuice transformations are for Humans only. Humans, Harry, not elves. You saw how long I was in the hospital ward when I accidentally changed into a cat."

Ron was turning visibly angry. "Well, then, what's your bright idea for getting through that sodding ward, huh? What brilliant idea do you have to bypass dark magic to get inside and find Mum, without killing us or her?"

"I don't know yet," Hermione yelled across the room, "but I have this damn book he sent me after and that's why I'm looking for a solution, just like he requested!" Hermione thrust her hand at the Director. "I know there's a solution that won't risk anyone's life on this case!" She wiped her face with the back of her hand while continuing to glare at everyone. "But then I don't know why I am bothering with that when I see the Director has chosen a course of action."

"Bill said it's impossible unless you have his blood. How do you suppose we get it when he's locked inside?"

Hermione ignored her best friend and husband, focusing only on the director. "If you're choosing this method for a rescue attempt, I will file a writ with the Wizengamot over cruelty charges, for using a lesser sentient being against their will on this case. I will fight you on this, tooth and nail, to keep the elves from being manipulated once again by wizards for their own ends, no matter how noble the situation is."

"You do that, Granger. You do that but I will have a witch's life over an Elf every single day."

Hermione opened the door and slammed it behind her.

"Shite," Ron muttered darkly. "I just mention an elf and she goes barmy."

"No, it's the best idea we have so far, Weasley. It's quiet, not over the top that would alert our kidnapper, and it is subtle. Potter, contact your elf and ask him to come in. We have questions we need to ask him before sending him on this mission."

"Yes, sir. But as his employer, he has the right of refusal."

"He does but I don't think he'll balk when he knows what is going on. Now get on it."

Ron opened the door and hustled out to where Hermione was packing her few things. "Hermione," he begged.

"Don't Hermione me, Ron. You know how important my advocacy work is and I can't believe you'd suggest using an elf for an Auror mission. I can't believe you'd stoop so low to ask him to perform your duties."

"I wasn't asking him to do my sodding job!"

"Bullshite, Ron. You brought him up and the Director is taking it one step further. That one step is the one you'd eventually come to: using Kreacher to help you, knowing full well that he could be killed, doing an Auror's job. That's cruel and I won't stand aside while you do this, not without my complaints lodged for it."

Hermione snatched up her beaded bag and her book and started walking towards the doors. "By the end of the day, I'll have a complaint filed, against the department and the Director, for this. House elves are not meant to die in your place, Ron."

"Hermione," he yelled again.

"No, Ron. I refuse to be a party to inhumane actions towards those who I swore to protect. Find another way!" She wiped her face again, smearing her eyeshadow even worse. "I've fought for years to get these laws in place, to protect non-wizards, and the first complicated case, you want to break those laws I fought to enact. I won't be complicit."

Hermione stormed out of the doors and left echoes of heel clicks on the outside hallway. Ron stood watching her walk away until the doors closed between them.

"Ron?"

"I am completely sick of all this cocked up shite."

"I know. We'll talk with Hermione later."

"It's not Hermione, Harry. It's this asshole who took Mum. When I get my hands on him, I will kill him, even if it's with my bare hands."

Harry stepped in front of Ron and gave him a harsh look. "No, you won't. You're going to be busy saving your marriage and keeping your parents intact."

Ron blew out a huge breath, almost like he's been holding it for days on end. "You're right. I'm sick of the dragon shite going on. Hermione's angry even if it's a bright idea. It is a good idea, right?"

"I reckon it's the only idea that has a chance of rescuing Mum."

Ron wiped his face and ran his hands across his neck. "Have you called Kreacher yet?"

"I was waiting 'til you got done dealing with Hermione before I called him."

"Doesn't she know this case is cocked up? This is nothing like what we've gone through. But bugger that she's in a strop over this case."

"Maybe it's a point of pride now. She got the law passed, and we celebrated when it passed, but now it's biting us on the ass. But no one considered that we'd be constrained like this when it passed. I don't think she anticipated that the law would be used against us, not when we're part of the Ministry."

"Do you think she'll still help us on the case?"

"I dunno. She might, or she might not. You know she gets sensitive about elves."

"Well, fuck."

"Yeah, my same point."

"In for a knut," Harry looked at Ron.

"In for a sickle."

"Kreacher," Harry spoke loudly.

A loud crack greeted him in reply. "Master Harry called Kreacher, sir?"

"I did. Master Ron and I need to ask you some questions."

"Is Kreacher performed in error, sir? Is Master Harry unhappy with Kreacher?"

"Your work is excellent."

"I can't complain either," Ron interjected.

"I called because I need to ask you some questions because you might be able to help us. You might have information that can help our case."

"Kreacher serves Master Harry."

"Kreacher, you've been a free elf for years. You work where you want. You know that."

"Yes, sir but Kreacher likes working for you and Mistress Ginny. Master Ron is most kind, too."

"Are you busy right now?" Ron added.

"Busy, sir? No, Master Ron. Kreacher has duties at Hogwarts when he's not serving the House of Potter, but hardly busy."

Harry and Ron sat down at the closest desk and motioned for Kreacher to take a seat on the edge of the desk. He did with alacrity and they waited until he was comfortable. "Kreacher is needed?"

"We hope so. But first things first: Mum's been kidnapped. We know the bloke that kidnapped her but he's hiding in a residence protected by corrupted blood wards."

Ron leaned into the conversation. "The bloke in question is related via marriage to the Malfoys. Would this pose a problem for you, if you were to help us?"

"No sir. Master Harry earned Kreacher's respect and Master Ron is Master Harry's friend. Both treat Kreacher kindly and are very generous with him. Kreacher has no complaints and therefore will not work for anyone else, save Madame McGonagall. She treats Kreacher well, too."

Harry took a deep breath. "Our problem is that the residence where the wizard resides has tainted magical wards. We've been informed, by a cursebreaker, that wizards can't get past them. Madame Malfoy said that if the wards were made with one particular spell, anyone who tries to breach them will be killed."

"That's most unfortunate, Master Harry. Kreacher has heard from other elves that some families will protect their own with magic that hurts others. Madame Malfoy did that as well." Kreacher's ears vibrated. "Kreacher remembers her treatment. Madame Malfoy used Kreacher for her own means."

"Well, this isn't about Mrs. Malfoy. She's the one who told us about a particular spell."

"Kreacher is surprised. Madame Malfoy normally hesitates to share information unless it's with family."

"I gave her some incentive, and she helped us for her own reasons. But what we need to know is somewhat simple: can wizards Polyjuice into an Elf?"

Kreacher wrung his hands in consternation. "Kreacher does not know, sir. Kreacher has never been asked that question before. Kreacher wants to answer but knows Master Harry appreciates candor above all else."

Harry adjusted the glasses on his nose. "I do, and that is why we have a problem. Mistress Hermione has mentioned,"

"Repeatedly," Ron interjected.

" – repeatedly informed us that wizards and witches cannot use Polyjuice to transform into an elf."

"Kreacher isn't certain, sir. Kreacher has never seen this magic."

"Well, unless Robards knows something we don't, that idea is out." Harry leaned back in his chair in resignation.

Ron stood up and paced around the desk. "Shite! So much for my bright idea."