A/N: I fought with this chapter for a long time. More specifically, I fought with Harry. He's being moody and stubborn and impossible. But I finally wrangled him! I hope you enjoy the new chapter and please be sure to leave a review with your thoughts!

"Maybe I should sleep with him." For the second night of his stay, Harry had locked himself in his and Teddy's room yet again. He had taken one look at the family sitting around the dinner table downstairs and fled. Shea had been trying to hatch a plan ever since. "Do you think that would make him more comfortable here?"

Draco sighed and shrugged, like he had been doing in response to every plan Shea had tried to concoct as a solution. "Or…as I've said since last night, you could just talk to him. Harry is extremely oblivious so I would suggest a direct approach. Don't try and play mind games with him. You'll only end up disappointed."

"In other words, you don't want me to sleep with him. Does the thought make you uncomfortable?"

It would be foolish to deny that, yes, Shea and Harry getting intimate did sour Draco's stomach a bit. But he couldn't exactly pinpoint why. "I don't know. And now isn't the time to talk about it." He was itching in his skin. This wasn't a conversation he was ready to have. Not any single part of it. "Let's shelve that discussion for later, okay? I have a favor to ask you before I leave."

Shea chuckled, finally pulling himself out of bed for the morning. "Stay in that position for just a little longer and I'll do anything you ask…."

In the process of bending over to tie his shoe, Draco's face darkened. But he obliged and exhibited himself just a little clearer. A shiver ran up his spine as Shea ran his index finger down the trouser seam that perfectly partitioned his backside. "Careful…," he cautioned. "The more you touch…the harder it is to walk out that door."

"So don't. Stay. Take a personal day and stay home with your family…." Shea's words were soft and inviting. Just the idea of his suggestions made Draco's heart ache with longing.

But he still found himself pulling away. Straightening up and putting distance between them. "I can't, baby. I can't. Something happened yesterday and Harry might be off the case as soon as we get in today. I should be there – no matter what ends up happening. And…I need you here. Helping me, just in case."

With an understanding nod, Shea kept the distance. The fragile shine in his eyes was perfectly mirrored from Draco's own. "What do you need from me?" he asked quietly.

"If they leave tomorrow, I'm afraid for what might happen to Teddy."

Shea's response was shocked, at first. Like he was surprised Draco would trust him with such a task. But he quickly recovered and pulled a demure frown. "You want me to find out what's wrong with the boy?"

"Has he said anything to you? What did he tell you?"

"Nothing yet," Shea whispered, his voice shaky. He wouldn't meet Draco's eyes. "He just…. Teddy keeps saying he's happy to be here. That he doesn't want to go home. He likes it here. I've lost count of how many times he's said it. But I can try and get more today. What has he said to you?"

"He was upset the other night. I tried to pry it out of him, but he wasn't…. He didn't want to talk about it." Draco sighed heavily and pulled on his suit jacket. "He didn't like that I was staring. Said he was afraid something bad was going to come of it." The words had been rolling around in his mind since. Any free chance he had to think, he couldn't keep them from nagging at him. "I need you to figure out why."

"I'm on it."

With that reassurance, Draco kissed the man goodbye and left for the office. He was early again. But it was too awkward walking through the MACUSA entrance hall with the awe and splendor of Harry Potter following behind him. He preferred to be one of the first people in the building for the day, wading through the emptiness under a half-mask of anonymity.

And he wasn't really certain he could handle seeing Harry in a raw, unprofessional state just yet.

One thing at a time.

"You're early."

"As are you," Draco muttered, unable to disguise the clear disappointment upon seeing Deacon already.

Deacon released a slow and heavy breath through his nose. He was busy making a cup of coffee, ladling in far more than the recommended amount of grounds. "Actually, you see…I haven't gone home," he replied, his voice slow and weary.

"You're that upset about yesterday?"

"Forget about what happened yesterday." On the counter next to the French press was a file. It was clean and crisp. No signs of wear or use. They hadn't poured over this one for hours and hours. It was new. "There's been another…. I've been up all night with the parents."

"Why didn't you send me an owl?" Draco asked, rushing to grab the file.

Deacon was just as quick, even in his exhausted state, to try and stop him. "Draco…." Their eyes met, but he was eager to look away. "I fought with myself all night about keeping you on this case. Both of you. And, you see, I-"

With a roll of his eyes, Draco snatched the papers back and stared at the picture pinned inside. "I'm staying on. So is Potter. Stay out of our way. Let us do our jobs. We'll have it solved before this happens again. Before you allow another child to die under your watch."

"I know you're upset," Deacon cautioned, downing half a cup of his thick, almost soupy coffee, "but you can't speak to me like that. I am still your boss. And as your boss…I'm telling you…that you need to do just that. Wrap up this damn nightmare. I'll be napping in my office if either of you need anything."

Draco watched the man shuffle off, his victory feeling like a double-edged sword.

This victim was nothing like the rest. It shattered every theory they had come up with thus far. The only factor that fit the pattern was the weapon. The potion. A potion that hadn't been seen in years due to the difficulty of obtaining its ingredients – blood of a dead man, a whole and crushed dragon's heart, elf skin. Murder begat murder. It would be all too coincidental if there were two killers using it at the same time for different purposes. It was enough to have Draco pulling his hair out.

He looked like an absolute mess by the time Harry rolled into the office. His door was open so he saw him the instant he walked in. He was oblivious. There was no way he could have known what it was he was walking into. It was pointless to warn him ahead of time. So he waltzed through that door looking like an absolute ray of sunshine and it was so frustrating. Like they were back in school and Harry Bloody Potter was walking around the grounds with a smile even though his life was constantly falling apart.

He had a way with optimism that Draco had just never managed to master.

Today was no different. Harry walked in with a bag of pastries and introduced himself to their new assistant – Lexi – like he was damn pleased to meet her. Like he was trying to prove something. He did think his job was still in jeopardy, after all. His temporary one here, at least.

"I brought coffee." Harry set two cups down on the desk. He knew before it was even said where they were from. The tempting scent of the perfect brew and fresh-baked pastries filled Draco with instant, irreplaceable comfort. "It's from that Muggle place Greengrass works at. Shea suggested it. He was…very helpful this morning. Call me crazy, but I don't think he's all that mad at you, anymore. How about Deacon? Did he say anything to you yet?"

"Martina Guererra. Female. Eleven-Years-Old. Fifth generation Ilvermorny student. Deceased as of ten o'clock last night. Victim number fifteen."

Harry was silent. It was clear he hadn't been expecting this. Perhaps he had even been anticipating only good to come of this day. He had obviously had it easy so far. But the world was violently catching back up with him. As it always did.

"Last night…while I was making love to my boyfriend and while you were sleeping through your shame…someone's little girl was murdered."

Floundering for words and feeling like he was suffocating on the stale, hostile air in the room, Harry staggered into a chair. "We really had it wrong," he managed between short gasps. "I really had it wrong…and now…."

"And now we have to fix it," Draco finished for him. He took a slow drink from one of the coffee cups, his mind calming from the comforting taste and his heart racing from the surge of caffeine. "Fuel up. We have a long day ahead of us…."

This was a dark understatement. There wasn't enough coffee or scones in the world to make their job any easier.

In his years at the Ministry as an Auror, Harry hadn't dealt much with death. He had pointedly avoided it, feeling like he had most definitely earned the right to. So most of his cases involved robbery or domestic disputes. Small things.

So it had been a few years, especially after voluntarily assigning himself to desk duty, since he had seen a cold, dead body. Seeing one now, so small and still, had his stomach turning. A thousand thoughts raced through his head, but the most prominent was regretting such a rich breakfast. Feeling light-headed, he apologized and stepped back from the medical examiner. If he stared much longer at Martina's body on that table, he was likely to puke.

"You may want to look away for this next part, Mr. Potter, if you're feeling queasy," the medical examiner – a petite woman named Mel who looked well-past the age for retirement – warned before pulling the sheet down to expose the girl's chest. "On the outside, she looks unharmed. But when you take a look inside…." There was a sick, squelching noise as she peeled back the Y-cut flesh.

Harry shouldn't have looked.

"Are you going to faint?" Draco's voice was thin and lacking in patience. In a near-direct echo of the beginning of their third year at Hogwarts, his question gave Harry a squirmy feeling in his gut. Trying to push past the obvious judgment, he shook his head quickly and took a few more steps back.

The girl's insides looked like burnt soup. Harry could still see it ingrained into his retinas behind his eyelids. "It's the poison," Mel explained. "It targets the organs but leaves everything else perfectly pristine. On the outside, it looks like she might not have suffered at all. But, really…. It would have been slow and painful. And because the potion used also paralyses the body…."

"She just laid there dying and could do nothing about it." With a sigh, Draco grabbed the edge of the sheet and covered the body again. "Just like all of the others. Did you find anything different? Something that would suggest a different killer with a different motive?"

Mel shook her head. "I didn't get to examine any of the other bodies, but I have seen their reports. From those reports, I can confidently say that this is directly in-line with every single one of them. You're still looking for the same murderer, Mr. Malfoy."

It was good news, Draco was sure, but he couldn't help but to feel a flutter of panic. The examiner's words solidified their failure. "Any trace of magic?"

"Nothing but the potion, Mr. Malfoy."

"Thank you for your time, Mel."

The woman grinned and gently touched Draco's arm. "Anything for you, sweetheart. Now go get 'em."

"I'm trying to," Draco reassured her, himself, and Harry who was watching him with those big, green eyes.

Harry looked fragile again. It was easy to see, even just in the way he walked. He was holding himself close and tight, like he had to police every limb. Once this case was over, Draco never wanted to see him like this again. As much as he might think this was what the universe wanted for him, Harry Potter wasn't cut out to be an Auror. He had just been a boy caught up in the simple matter of circumstance.

"Where do we go from here?" Harry asked, his voice weak and almost fearful of what was to come. Like he was terrified that there was another bad thing lurking just around the corner.

Stopping at the lift, Draco shrugged and scrubbed fingers through his hair. He'd run them through so often by now that it was riddled with static. Obnoxious flyaways tickled at his forehead and every time he tried to tame them it only made them worse. In a fit of annoyance, he waved his wand to procure a tie around the blond strands. "I still think we should pay a visit to the Misuse of Magic Department. It's still our best lead, even if the targets aren't specifically Muggleborn children. We should go there next…."

With a nod, Harry followed him into the lift. He kept distance, sucking in air like he was desperate for it. His stomach was still churning and he was grateful Draco didn't suggest taking a break for lunch. "Had you, uh…. Had you seen that before? The effects of the potion?" he questioned, bracing his palms back against the wall.

"Only in pictures." Draco's voice was tight and controlled. He was also affected by the young girl's corpse, but was desperate not to show it. "This was the first body we had on our table. For all of the others, we only had the Muggle examinations to go off of. But it's all the same. The only difference is that we know what did this to her while they're all still baffled."

"We're baffled, too."

Their eyes met for a brief second. In that second, they shared a similar look. They were both scared out of their minds. They were in way over their heads. And the only thing that they could take solace in was convincing themselves that anyone would be. Or should be.

"Hey, Draco! You know, I saw a report come through last night from your address. Haven't had a chance yet to read it over. Is little Scorpius already presenting?"

The door labeled "Underage Magic Surveillance" only contained a single office. And inside of that office was a gaunt-looking man who underneath the eye bags and sallow skin could have been very attractive. The office was dimly lit, containing only an L-shaped desk absolutely over-laden with papers on the right and several quills furiously scratching on various papers to the left. The man sat in the middle of it all, seemingly unharried and at home in the chaotic environment that had Harry's teeth on edge. The man eyed the two of them, obvious curiosity barely bridled.

"Not that I've noticed," Draco mused, leaning against the back of the door after closing it behind them. "And Shea didn't say anything. My cousin is staying with us and he's only eleven. He's heading off to his first year of school soon. It was probably just him. Besides, isn't Scorpius a bit young for that?"

"Nah, it's more normal than you think. Just last week I had to send Patrol out to investigate an infant who was hiccuping curses. Nothing too terrible, just some object transfiguration," the man rushed to add when he saw the alarm in Harry's eyes. "So, what brings you up to my office today? We didn't have lunch plans, did we?"

"No, I'm afraid I'm actually here for the job instead of as a friend today."

"Well…I'm afraid I don't know much about potions, Draco…."

Draco nodded, reaching out to gently touch Harry's arm. "We're working a case that unfortunately involves you, Jeremy…."

The man was on his feet in two-seconds flat. He wasn't even bothering to hide his curiosity in Harry's presence anymore. "The Sentinel did say you've been wandering around MACUSA lately…. Any truth to the nasty, little rumors?"

"'Fraid not." Harry smiled tightly and held up his left hand, wedding band glinting. "I'm still a happily married man."

"Shame," Jeremy muttered, his eye-contact jittery and intense. "I am currently single myself and…you certainly are better looking than your pictures suggest."

Harry cleared his throat and averted his eyes. "Sorry to hear that," he muttered awkwardly to the floor.

"Well, what is it that I can help with, then? And what does that have to do with the famous Harry Potter?"

"Potter is helping me with a case," Draco explained, pushing up off the wall to lean over Jeremy's desk. "A case where underage witches and wizards are being murdered. Most of them are Muggleborn. The only way we can see the victims being chosen…is off your records…. I need you to help me clear your name from the suspects list…."

Jeremy's eyes widened and he jumped up from his chair. "Excuse me?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. "You can't be seriously thinking I have anything to do with that…. Draco, we're friends. I've dated your boyfriend. You know I wouldn't…. I wouldn't do something like that. And, besides, my records are public. Anyone could have read them!"

"Anyone?" Harry questioned, also taking a step forward, awkwardness forgotten. "Where do you keep them?"

The absolute picture of flustered, Jeremy gestured to the left side of his desk where a quill had stopped its work. "When they're done being dictated, I read them and determine if action is needed. If not, they get sent down to the Archive Library. All non-confidential files end up there. Literally any witch or wizard can walk in and read anything that isn't protected. Once it leaves here…it's out of my hands…."

"Anyone…." Harry's whisper signified that the pitiful last shred of his hope was about to fall apart. They were assuredly back at square one if this was as broad as it seemed. It felt like harsh and real failure and it was suffocating.

Draco, however, wasn't as ready to give up and accept defeat. He was still hopeful. Harry wasn't so sure why he was recruited for this if Draco was more put-together than he was. "Is there any way to trace who accesses these reports?"

His eyes lit up with relief, Jeremy nodded emphatically. "All Archive files retain touch magic! You can track that. The Archivists can pull the information for you. I can send a memo ahead, if you want me to." He eagerly pulled out a piece of parchment and scratched a quick note.

"I'll still need you to give Deacon your alibis later, Jer," Draco said, his voice surprisingly soft. It was amazing that Harry could still be this thrown when Draco exhibited kindness to anyone else. "But, between us, I don't honestly think that you could have done what this killer does." He leaned further over the desk and gently pressed a kiss to Jeremy's cheek.

Harry opened the door and the newly transfigured memo rat scuttled off ahead of him down the hall. They followed along behind it, pace much less urgent and soon lost track of the thing. Beside him, Draco was silent but there were obvious gears turning behind his eyes. At least one of them could focus.

At least one of them wasn't utterly useless here.

"I should recuse myself," Harry muttered, letting his gaze fall to his feet. He was full of shame at even the thought of uttering those words. He wasn't even coming close to living up to his full potential whether he stayed on this case or not.

"Don't be ridiculous," Draco fired back without missing a single beat. He didn't even look over at Harry, like he wasn't even stunned by his attempt to bow out graciously. "Everyone botches something during their first big case. You're not all that special."

That secret smirk as they climbed into the lift again together said otherwise. But that was just between them. That was reserved for private, stolen moments exactly like this one. A moment all their own where Draco threaded his fingers through Harry's and gave a reassuring squeeze.

"We will solve this, Harry. Keep your chin up and trust your partner."