Chapter 36

Sudden Turn of Events

[December 2 2011]

12:16 PM

Harry had taken a larger dose of the cold tonic than usual before going to bed—due to various reasons—and it had knocked him out for a good twelve hours. When he had woken up, however, his nose had cleared up and the itch in his throat had subsided quite a bit. He was well rested and more than glad that he was in better shape to take on the upcoming weekend—Merlin knew he would need every ounce of energy he had to get through it.

When he had called Ginny, who had gone to her office to wrap up some things with regards to her tournament coverage, she told him that Arthur and Molly had offered to pick the kids up from preschool and take them to London for the day. She had also told him to take the day off to recuperate, but he had refused. The DMLE was already breathing down his neck to get things done; the last thing he needed was for them to give him trouble for taking a sick leave at such a crucial time.

He eyed the clock over the mantle as he sipped his tea, wondering how Draco was doing. Too many things had happened the previous day, so he hadn't found the time to check on the blond. I'm sure he's fine, Harry told himself as the hot tea scalded his itchy throat. He's seen worse.

But that didn't stop him from wanting to see the man any less. Shaking his head, he willed himself to get up and get dressed without letting his thoughts wander to Draco every few minutes. He knew that the longer he let himself think about the blond, the deeper he would fall into the abyss that was their undefined relationship. It was wholly unfair to Draco for Harry to act on his half-hearted impulses and desires—especially since Draco had made it rather clear as to where he stood with regards to them.

Thus, Harry had reached a conclusion: he would try to restrict his contact with Draco to that of Mind Healer and client, and friends, of course, until he had sorted out his feelings and thoughts. It wasn't fair on his part to lead Draco on without knowing for sure what it was that he, Harry, really wanted—especially after that night.

Easier said than done, his mind supplied helpfully, and he couldn't disagree. Even before, back in their Hogwarts days, Draco and Harry had been drawn to each other inexplicably, whether they wanted it or not. Although they had strayed away from one other for well over a decade, now that they had finally reconnected—and in a way they never had before—Harry knew that no matter what he did, he would end up crossing paths with Draco.

It was something that he thought was inevitable, and the fact that he thought so made him question a lot of things that he didn't have the answers to.

Of all those thoughts, however, the one that was at the forefront just then was what Draco had said the other day. The thing about neither of them being the kind to break up their families for something that neither could explain nor understand completely.

And immediately after it came the thought: but what if we didn't have to break our families up? What if we could have the cake and eat it too?

Harry stared at the fireplace in his study, gripping a fistful of Floo powder, as he stood lost in thought. The grains were digging into his palm, and he knew they would leave marks on his skin from how tight he was clenching his fist, but he couldn't have cared less. Shaking himself out of his daze, he threw down the shimmering green powder and ducked under the mantel.

"Ministry of Magic," he said in a somewhat nasal voice, hoping that he had been clear enough. Closing his eyes as the world whirled around him, he opened them only once he felt solid ground beneath his feet.

He stepped out of the Floo, nodding to whoever greeted him with a small smile as he made his way across the atrium to the lifts. He managed to slip into a rather crowded lift just as the doors were closing. Smiling awkwardly at the wizard he was pressed up against, Harry hoped against hope that he wouldn't be spoken to.

"Afternoon," the fellow said, much to Harry's chagrin. "Late start today?"

Harry muttered a vague reply as he waited impatiently for the voice to announce his floor. The moment it did, he all but tumbled out of the lift, speed walking down the hallway before anybody could stop him for a chat.

"I'm here," he announced as he strode into the Auror Office, getting greetings from the Aurors who had heard him. He spotted Buxley and Rogers near the break room, deep in conversation with McCardy and Hunt. Striding over to the foursome, he nodded as they greeted him and asked, "So, what'd I miss?"

He hoped it was nothing serious, but from the way the four men glanced at each other, he knew that wasn't the case. Buxley was the first to speak. "McCardy's men found something last night when they were scoping out the warehouse," he said, turning to the man in question.

"We spotted a group of black-clad people transporting something to the warehouse in the dead of night," McCardy said, his voice grave. "It was far too dark to make out faces, especially since their cloaks were hooded, so we had no choice but to wait until they left to go see what they had brought in." He paused, glancing towards Buxley, as though asking for permission to continue. When Buxley nodded, McCardy cleared his throat and said, "It was cloudy and even our night-vision equipment didn't help much, so we miscalculated the number of people that had entered and left the warehouse. When we went in, we found that some had remained behind, probably to secure the place and stand guard." He paused again and shrugged. "There were three of them and six of us, so we thought the obvious course of action was to subdue them and find out what was in the underground vault they were guarding."

"Did you manage to capture them?" Harry asked, his heart beginning to race, and McCardy shared a look with the others before shaking his head.

"While we did ambush them and succeeded in tying them up, we didn't anticipate that they would go so far as to silence themselves when they realised they had no means of escape."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "How?"

"Poison shards around their necks."

"This makes no sense," Harry said, ruffling his hair. "What is it that these people are up to that they would go so far as to take their own lives instead of giving up information?"

Rogers held up a clipboard that had photographs pinned to it, his expression sombre. Harry flipped through the pictures with a frown. They were grainy and of rather poor quality, owing to the fact that there was little to no light in the vault. "What is all this?"

"The thing that you thought was their true motive behind the vandalism facade," Rogers said in a low voice. "Dark artefacts."

Harry looked up, a chill running down his spine. There were more than a dozen pictures with several objects in each. Just the thought of so many artefacts imbued with Dark Magic in one place made his blood run cold.

"This adds up with our cult theory," Buxley said as Harry processed the information. "We don't know how or why these people have amassed so many Dark artefacts, nor do we know what their purpose is, but I daresay it's nothing short of disastrous."

Harry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, his mind running a mile a minute. Finally he looked up at McCardy and asked, "What of the bodies?"

"They're in the morgue. We're trying to glean as much information from them as possible."

"And your men?"

"Still staking out the warehouse."

"Any updates?"

"Nothing yet."

Harry nodded and turned to the rest. "So we can assume that either the rest of the perpetrators haven't yet realised that three of their men are missing, or they're onto us and are waiting to make a move. At this point we have no choice but to wait it out, I suppose." He turned back to McCardy. "What about the artefacts?"

"We're securing them and in order to bring them back."

"No, leave them where they are," Harry said, handing the clipboard back to Rogers. "We first need to confirm that they are all indeed Dark artefacts before figuring out how much Dark Magic they contain and how dangerous they are. It'll do us more harm than good to bring so many Dark objects anywhere near the Ministry."

McCardy and Hunt nodded. "We'll assign more men to guard the warehouse, then."

"Is that wise?" Harry asked, turning to Buxley. "While there's a definite chance that they're waiting for us to make a move to ambush us, is it a good idea to be so obvious about it?"

"How does it matter at this point?" Buxley said. "It's already all over the news that we're directing all our attention to this case. They know that they've got our full attention and I'm sure they have precautions set up. Our best course of action would be to get things done as quickly as possible. The longer we dilly-dally, the longer they have to strike back at us."

Harry nodded. Buxley was right; they had to move now.

"But we need time to examine the artefacts," Rogers said, his voice tense. "We don't exactly have all that many people who are proficient with Dark Magic and Dark objects to get through them so quickly. Especially if we're going to keep them in the warehouse, we're going to need them to be fast and efficient."

"How many people have we got down there?" Harry asked.

"Around three or four who know what they're doing along with an assistant or two."

"That's barely enough," Harry muttered, biting his thumbnail. "Do we have anybody who can at least identify Dark Magic and artefacts, if not gauge how dangerous they are or analyse them further?"

Rogers nodded. "I'm quite sure there are people who are at least able to do that much. I mean, a few of us Aurors ourselves are able to identify Dark Magic and Dark objects—that's how we got the information in the first place."

Harry nodded. "Then get anybody who can help down there. I'll see if I can get someone who knows more from outside."

"This has to be contained," Buxley reminded Harry. "We don't want to create widespread panic and agitate people more than we already have."

"We can trust them," Harry said, an image of Draco and Zabini flashing through his mind. "Besides, I reckon they would prefer it if nobody knew what they were up to."

"Alright then. How soon can they make it?"

"As soon as I can get into contact with them," Harry said, already planning out what he would say to Draco. "Rogers, I want you to round up everyone who can offer any sort of assistance to our team already down there. Be sure to clarify with them exactly what sort of help the ones we send should be able to offer. We don't want to spread this any thinner than we already have."

"Yessir!"

"You two," Harry said to McCardy and Hunt. "Scatter your men as far around the warehouse as you can and see if you can get them to put up a tracing net. It would make things immensely simpler if we were able to tell as soon as anybody enters the vicinity of the warehouse. I'm hoping your men are capable of such advanced magic?"

Both men seemed unsure but nodded nonetheless. "We'll make it happen, boss."

"Good. Now go."

All three raced away, leaving Harry alone with Buxley. "Who is it that you know who can help us with Dark Magic?" Buxley asked, a suspicious frown on his face.

"Don't ask questions whose answers you don't want to know," Harry said before making his way to his office.

He locked the door behind him and made a beeline towards the fireplace. Tossing in a pinch of Floo powder, he stuck his head in and muttered, "Draco Malfoy's office, Antares," hoping the blond was there.

The fire sizzled and hissed, spitting out little bursts of green every now and then. A few moments later, the flames settled, and Draco's face appeared. "Harry? Where are you calling from?"

"The Ministry," Harry said. "Listen, I'm in a bit of a pinch and urgently need your help."

Draco's brows furrowed in concern. "Of course. What can I do?"

Harry hesitated for a second before asking, "Is Zabini still in town?"

"He should be," Draco replied, a dubious expression on his face. "Why?"

"You said he's proficient at identifying Dark artefacts and such, didn't you?"

Draco blanched, and Harry heard the blond'sharp intake of breath as Draco pressed his lips together before asking, "What is this about?"

"What I'm about to tell you is highly confidential and I would prefer if we did this face to face. Would you rather I come down there or…?"

"I'll open up the Floo," Draco said before his head disappeared from the fireplace.

Harry bit back a sigh, his heart still thundering a rhythm in his chest, and pulled his head out. Waiting for a moment, he rose to his feet and watched as the flames flickered and crackled before shooting all the way up. Harry stepped into the Floo, reorganising his thoughts as he travelled to Draco's office.

He stepped out to see Draco standing before him with crossed arms and a frown on his face. "I hope you're not getting me into something dangerous again," the blond said, to which Harry laughed dryly.

"Trust me when I say that I wouldn't be here if it was something I could take care of on my own." When Draco motioned to the sofa, Harry hesitated a moment before nodding and taking a seat in his usual armchair. He inhaled deeply and looked up into intense, stormy eyes. "So here's what this is about…"

2:17 PM

"What did he say?" Harry asked as Draco returned from his phone call with Zabini.

"We managed to catch him just in time; he's on his way to the airport. He has a flight to Denmark for a conference in a few hours. He said he'll call me back to confirm."

"Is he alright to miss something so important?"

Draco shrugged. "This is more important, isn't it?"

Harry nodded, shifting in his seat. He could tell that Draco's conversation with Zabini had been rather tense from the furrow in the blond's brow and his pursed lips.

"I'm sorry for involving you in something like this again," Harry said, feeling guilty.

Draco sighed, not bothering to conceal his annoyance like he usually would. "To be perfectly honest, I would have refused if it were anybody else who had asked."

Harry straightened up at that, his heart thudding against his chest. Draco shot him a look sideways. "And, honestly, I don't know how I feel about me being the first person you thought of when it came to being able to understand and identify Dark Magic."

"Tha—That's not," Harry began, but Draco waved him off.

"It's fine. I can't really blame you, considering you were right to come to me." Draco refused to meet Harry's eyes, and that left a bad taste in Harry's mouth. Had he made a mistake coming to the blond after all? "I just don't want any unnecessary attention," Draco continued. "Both Blaise and I have been very careful with regards to whom or what we associate with for obvious reasons. We've successfully managed to keep a low profile all these years, and I don't want one decision I made because I wanted to help you to ruin everything we've worked so hard for." He finally turned to look at Harry. "I really hope I don't come to regret this—not just for my sake or yours, but Blaise's, too."

Harry's stomach dropped, and he mentally berated himself for not thinking things through more. Draco had become Harry's go-to for nearly everything of late that Harry had forgotten there were certain things the blond preferred not to get involved in. It was quickly becoming obvious to him that he had started to rely on Draco far too much recently—to the extent that the blond was the first person he thought of whenever he was in a pinch, or for anything, really.

His guilt forming a knot in his stomach, he rose to walk around the table and sat down beside Draco. After a moment's hesitation, Harry reached for Draco's hand and intertwined their fingers. The blond eyed their clasped hands with a blank expression on his face but didn't pull away.

"You don't have to do this," Harry said softly. "I'm sorry that I came to you without taking your position into consideration more. I just thought—"

"I know," Draco interrupted, his voice sharp. He inhaled deeply before saying, "I know," again in a softer voice. He then looked up to meet Harry's eyes with a small smile. "I know you didn't mean to offend me or put me in a difficult position."

"I really didn't—"

"But, Harry, I would like it if you were to consider things more before you immediately come running to me from next time."

Harry's breath caught in his throat and he swallowed thickly. Although he had come to the same realisation on his own, it still stung when Draco said it so directly. He made to pull away, but Draco tightened his grip on Harry's fingers.

"Don't get me wrong," he said as Harry stared at their hands. "It makes me happy that I'm the first person you think of when you're in need, but I don't want you to make a habit of this. I don't think my constant facilitation of the idea that I have a solution to all your problems is a good thing—as your Mind Healer or otherwise."

"How ironic," Harry said, his voice choked. "Just this morning I was thinking that we should keep our relationship as just Mind Healer and client, and here you are, saying the exact same thing."

He saw Draco stiffen from the corner of his eyes and the blond's grasp on his hand loosened. Harry looked up to see wide eyes brimming with emotion, and he felt a lump form in his throat. "You were thinking that?" Draco asked, his voice soft.

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. "I didn't—I didn't want something like this—" he made a vague gesture with his free hand, "—to happen. And in the end, I'm the one who couldn't stick to my own decision."

"Harry," Draco said, tightening his grip once again, his voice firm. "I don't want you to mistake what I said. Our relationship is a complicated one, considering I am not only your Mind Healer, but also your friend, and…" he trailed off, leaving whatever else they were hanging in the air—much like their relationship.

"Yeah…"

"But there's one thing that's common for all of those things: I only have your best interests in mind. And what's best for you is making sure that you don't grow to be so dependent on me."

"Why?" Harry asked, unable to look away from Draco's eyes that were like liquid silver. "What's wrong with depending on you? I would want you to come to me with your problems as much as I do to you with mine."

Draco shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "But I don't think I can do that."

Harry felt his chest tighten. "Why not?" he asked. "Do you—not trust me?"

"You, I trust completely. It's me that I don't trust," Draco said, and Harry could see that he was speaking the truth. He hesitated to continue, and Harry had to squeeze his hand to urge him. Harry wasn't really used to speaking about his feelings so openly, so he was sure Draco wasn't either, which was what furthered Harry's belief that their presence in each other's lives was important.

"I don't know if I could just return to what I used to be a few months ago if you were to…" Draco trailed off again with a little shrug.

"If I were to what?" Harry asked, his voice forceful. Did Draco expect him to just wake up one day and decide that he was going to cut the blond out of his life? There's no way in hell I'm capable of that at this point, Harry thought bitterly. I'm in this way too deep.

Draco shook his head and looked away. "Forget I said anything. This isn't the time for such a conversation."

"There's never a time for something like this," Harry said, squeezing Draco's hand so tight that the blond winced.

"Harry, you're hurting me—"

"I know."

Draco looked at him, his lips slightly parted as he tried to decipher the meaning behind Harry's words. "I know," Harry said again as he loosened his grip.

He would have said, 'If you want me to go, I will,' or something along those lines, but less dramatic, just to hear Draco say, 'No, I don't want that,' but he couldn't do it. Their relationship was so very precariously balanced; one nudge could send it teetering over the edge. Harry couldn't risk that. This time, he didn't want to mess up as he had before with his indecisive and procrastinating ways. This time, he couldn't. That was how much Draco had come to mean to him.

"I really don't understand you," Draco muttered, and Harry nodded with a sigh.

"I don't understand me either, but I'm trying. I really am."

Draco shook his head ever so slowly, a wistful expression on his face. "Sometimes I wonder if we were better off before, when things were so much simpler."

"I wonder that too, constantly," Harry admitted. "But I'm glad that things are as they are. I would've never come to see so many different sides of you that I never even knew existed if they weren't."

Draco smiled that gentle smile of his that always had Harry tripping over himself as he said, "I'm glad too."

They sat in silence for a moment, and Harry's gaze slipped down to fix on Draco's lips. He leaned forwards instinctively, feeling that the moment was right, but was interrupted by Draco's phone going off. The blond seemed embarrassed and let go of Harry's hand as he fumbled to answer the call. Harry sat watching him, feeling a sense of loss as the cool air hit his sweaty palm.

"Hello? Blaise?"

Harry was snapped out of his daze as he heard Zabini's muffled voice on the phone. Draco nodded and hummed in assent to whatever his friend was saying, and after a moment, turned to Harry and asked, "You just need Blaise and me to come down to this place and take a look at the artefacts, correct?"

"Yep."

Draco returned his attention to the call. "Alright, so then—what? Yes, Blaise, he's here. What do you mean is he going to be there when you arrive?" Draco frowned. "Obviously, Blaise. Do you know where this place is?" He rolled his eyes after listening to Zabini speak for a moment. "I already told you how he knows about Antares—no, what? Blaise, stop being ridiculous and get your arse down here. Harry won't jump you, for Salazar's sake."

Zabini continued to say something, but Draco simply cut the call with a scoff. Turning to Harry, he said, "Sorry 'bout that. Blaise is still miffed about having to cancel his trip on such short notice."

"I'll bet he isn't too thrilled to have to help me analyse Dark artefacts either," Harry added matter-of-factly, to which Draco only sighed.

"I don't really blame him for being upset, but I didn't think he would react so strongly to you being here when he arrived."

Harry rose to his feet and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, if he would prefer that I'm not here, then that's doable."

"No, Harry, you don't have to—"

"I've given you both enough trouble as it is," Harry said as he pulled on his coat. "Besides, I reckon you're going to have to placate him and convince him that this isn't a terrible idea—in which case me being here may not help too much."

Draco nodded, and Harry felt a slight twinge at Draco so readily agreeing for Harry to leave for Zabini's sake. Don't be such a pansy, he scolded himself as he Summoned a piece of parchment and a quill from Draco's desk and jotted down the warehouse's location. "I'll have someone meet you and update you on what's going on when you arrive. I'm guessing the team that's examining the artefacts has shifted location to somewhere nearby by now, so you may not have to enter the warehouse to take a look at them."

"Right, thanks," Draco said as he took the address from Harry.

Harry paused at the fireplace for a moment, debating whether or not to do what he wanted to do. He took one look at Draco's face, muttered a, "Screw it," and leaned forwards to press his lips against the blond's. He started to pull away a moment later, but Draco leaned in towards him, and Harry reached up to cup the blond's cheek with his hand as he deepened the kiss.

After a moment, they pulled apart, and Harry stroked Draco's cheek—that was flushed and warm to the touch—lightly with his thumb as he swore. "Well shite."

The blond's lips were moist from the kiss and were slightly parted. His irises were a stormy grey, and when he exhaled, Harry could feel the hot breath on his face. He swallowed thickly. This was not good.

"I—uh—should go," he stammered as he dropped his hand and grabbed a fistful of Floo powder with the other, upturning the bowl in the process and spilling the powder onto the floor.

Draco waved his wand and returned the powder and bowl to their place, an amused smile on his face. "Are you alright?" he asked, making Harry flush with embarrassment.

"Peachy," he replied as he turned to the fireplace. Just as he raised his foot, however, green flames shot up, and a wizard in a dark cloak and hat stepped out.

He raised his head to reveal that he was Zabini, and Draco and Harry stood awkwardly as Zabini looked from one to the other, an unamused expression on his face.

Harry cleared his throat after a moment and nodded to Draco. "I best be leaving, then. Call my cell if you find locating the place to be difficult."

"Ah, I don't think I have your number," the blond said as he stared down at his phone.

"I have yours," Harry said. Astoria had given it to him the first time he had gone to the Manor in case of an emergency. He hadn't wanted to admit it then, but he had been thrilled to have gotten hold of Draco's cell phone number without having to go through the awkward process of finding a way to ask the blond. "Let me ring you so you can save it."

He pulled out his phone and clicked a few buttons to find Draco's number. He pressed the call button and waited until Draco nodded to cut the call. "Well," Harry said, turning to Zabini with his usual, professional Auror smile on his face. "Thank you for accepting to help at such short notice. I appreciate it."

Zabini simply nodded and gave him a once-over before spinning on his heel and making his way to the sofas. Harry and Draco shared a look before Harry threw down the Floo powder and ducked under the mantel. "I'll see you in a bit," he told Draco, who smiled genially at him.

"See you."

Harry inhaled and spoke his destination clearly, closing his eyes as the flames enveloped him. He could still see Draco's flushed face in his mind, and it sent a tingle down his spine when he remembered their kiss.

Ah, hell, he thought as the familiar nausea of the Floo swept over him. Here he was, pretending like he couldn't put a finger to what he felt for the blond, when it was clear to the both of them that Harry had already fallen head over heels for Draco.

There's no reason to deny it at this point, is there? he wondered as he stepped into his office.

4:53 PM

"As far as we could tell, these ones here aren't as dangerous as those," one of the witches who had come to examine the artefacts told Harry as she motioned to two sets of objects.

"So their size has nothing to do with how much Dark Magic they contain?" Harry asked. He had been sure that the larger objects would be more dangerous.

The witch shook her head. "No, size doesn't matter. What matters is how old the artefacts are. These ones here," she gestured towards the pile closest to her, "are barely a year or two old. Where as those ones there," she pointed to a few objects that had been placed within a barrier, "are at least half a century old, if I'm not mistaken. I can't tell you the exact age of the artefacts, but I can assure you that they are old enough that the Dark Magic in them has been reinforced several times over the years, thus making those a much stronger conductor than these ones."

"Were you able to gauge which artefacts are older and more powerful than the rest?" Harry asked.

The witch pursed her lips. "Well, as you can see, we have analysed the ones that are here, but it's taking much longer than we anticipated, and there's barely any room to work in that cramped vault. It would be preferable to move them out here so we can take a better look, but we don't know what can set them off—especially since we're not really trained for this; we have only ever observed and studied them under laboratory conditions before. These ones were at the very top and we only removed them after ensuring that they wouldn't blow somebody's head off."

"There are two more people arriving who should be able to help you," Harry said with a smile. The witch nodded and thanked him before turning to the Auror that had brought more artefacts for her to examine.

"Sir," Rogers called, jogging over to where Harry was. "We have a situation."

They moved away from where the examination team was at work and Harry asked, "What's happened now?"

"Hunt's Patronus just arrived to inform us that someone tripped the tracing net near his location."

"Did they manage to find the person?"

"That's the problem, sir," Rogers said. "The net wasn't as well-cast as it should've been, and we can't tell how much time has passed since the person set it off."

"Shite," Harry swore, rubbing the back of his neck. He had been worried this would happen, but he had trusted that McCardy and Hunt would be able to control things well enough even if their men's spell work wasn't that advanced. Can't really blame them; the area they have to cover is fairly large. "Do we have an update on the situation?"

"Hunt said they could trace the person to a little ways off from the farthest point of where the net was cast, where they assume the person exited the nest. There was apparently no sign of anybody having come any closer to the warehouse. It's almost as though whoever entered the nest simply did so to see if we've set up any sort of trap to apprehend the intruder."

Harry glanced towards the examination team's workstation, a nagging feeling tugging at the back of his mind. His instincts were telling him something was amiss; that the people they were dealing with were far smarter than they were being given credit for. It was almost as though they were purposely making mistakes to send Harry and his men on a wild goose chase in order to find a way to go around their defences.

"This isn't working," Harry said, gnawing on his thumbnail in thought. "I want you to get the Aurors here to set up a barrier around the perimeter. It's a rather extreme measure that will give us more trouble than we need right now, but we can't take the risk of letting these people slip by under our noses. They've outsmarted us quite a few times already, and the last thing we need is for them to get their hands on the artefacts."

Rogers nodded. "Yessir."

Harry watched him make his way towards the Aurors standing guard a little further away, the nagging feeling still present. "What will you do next?" he murmured as he turned in a slow circle, his eyes scanning the abandoned buildings around the desolate area. There were far too many variables that were out of his control, and he simply couldn't shake off the feeling that he was overlooking something important.

"Sir!" someone called, and Harry looked over his shoulder to see an Auror escorting Draco and Zabini to him.

He nodded to the Auror, who left them to return to his post, and Harry smiled at the two men. "Thank you again for coming." He motioned towards the witch he had just been speaking to. "This is Wendy; she's here to help us examine the artefacts as well. She'll be here to assist you."

Draco opened his mouth to say something, when a Patronus—Hunt's, Harry immediately recognised from its shape—came gambolling over to him. It perched on his shoulder, and Hunt's voice echoed in his ear. "There have been multiple breaches in the perimeter of the net; there are more intruders than we expected. My men and McCardy's men are holding them down as best as we can, but we can't tell for sure how many got through. They're most definitely heading your way so please stay alert."

Harry bellowed for Rogers as Hunt's voice had started to speak, and the man paled as the report came to an end. "The barrier?" Harry asked urgently as he looked around, counting the number of non-Aurors who were present.

"We still need time, sir. It's too large an area to cover so quickly."

"Send a Patronus to Buxley," he said to Rogers before turning to Wendy. "Gather all of your team. I want you stay here and not move. Put up a shield and stay within it at all costs. We can't have them taking the artefacts from us."

Wendy immediately sprang to action, and Harry yelled for two of the closest Aurors. "Stand guard here. I give you full freedom to take action as you see fit."

They nodded and got into position, and Harry motioned for Draco and Zabini to follow him as he headed towards the warehouse.

"This is why I was against this whole thing," Harry overheard Zabini mutter to Draco, and Harry couldn't help but agree. He had expected the perpetrators to make a move, but he had neither expected them to rally so quickly, nor had he expected them to come in such a large number. It was almost as though they were functioning as one organism, working together efficiently without allowing any room for error.

"Buxley," Harry barked as they moved towards where the vault was. "Get all non-Aurors inside that vault and seal it up. Now."

"That may not be such a good idea," Draco said from behind him, "especially if there are as many Dark artefacts in there as you said there were. We don't know what can set them off."

"You don't have to worry about them going off," Harry said as he ushered them towards the vault. "If these guys are after the artefacts, I'm sure they know not to cause an explosion of Dark Magic that has enough destructive power as a nuclear bomb. That defeats the purpose of them trying to retrieve the artefacts."

Zabini and Draco shared a look, and to Harry's surprise, it was Zabini that agreed to his line of reasoning. "He's right; we're safer in there with those Dark objects than out here, where we could potentially be killed."

"They're all in," one of the Aurors called. "Preparing to seal the vault!"

"Wait—"

"Leave it," Draco said, grabbing Harry's arm. "Going from your men's report, your short on manpower. We could help—"

"You are doing no such thing," Harry said fiercely as he all but dragged Draco towards the vault. "I am not letting you fight. Absolutely not."

"Did you honestly bring us here thinking that we didn't know it was dangerous?" Draco snapped, tugging his arm out of Harry's grip. "I've fought in a bloody war and survived; taking down a bunch of maniacs shouldn't be that much harder."

"Sorry, but I have no intentions of dying—or ruining my new suit," Zabini said, turning to speak to the Aurors who were shutting the vault.

"Draco," Harry urged, but the blond was adamant. "There's no time to be stubborn; I need you to get in there."

Before Draco could argue any further, a loud bang sounded, and they all turned to look out of the warehouse windows, watching as the shield charm around it shuddered as spell after spell rained down on it.

"It won't hold out against that many spellcasters," Buxley yelled from across the large room, and Harry nodded.

"Take battle positions! We're hitting them before they get to us!"

Aurors Disapparated from where they were and appeared on the ramp above Harry, positioned by the windows, their wands pointed outside. "Take aim!" one of them men shouted as Harry shoved Draco towards Zabini.

The blond began to protest, but before he could speak, Harry nodded to the two Aurors standing on top of the vault, and they cast a barrier around it. "If you want to help," Harry yelled to Draco, "then keep that shield up at all costs!"

He spun on the spot without waiting for the blond to react and Apparated to where his men were firing curses at the enemies. Harry joined in, watching as a hex hit a black-robed figure square in the chest. The person fell over and remained unmoving for a moment before getting back to their feet. The hood had fallen back to reveal a grey, faceless creature, and a shudder ran down Harry's spine. Whatever the thing was, it was most definitely not human.

Beside him, Buxley echoed his thoughts. "What the bloody hell is going on?"

A/n: Whoop, cliffhanger! I thought it was about time I had one :3 Sorry not sorry lol.

In other, better news, Harry finally realises he's in love with Draco! I mean, about damn time, Potter. Everybody knew it except for you. His cluelessness is his characteristic trait, isn't it? Can't help but adore the fellow.

I speed-wrote this one and was absolutely determined to post it today because I start working full time from tomorrow (as a substitute and assistant teacher in a special school! I'm super excited because I've been interning there for 2 months already and I adore the kids to bits) and I don't know how much time I'm going to have to write- which is rather upsetting since I already have the next chapter all planned out in my head. Here's to hoping the weekends come sooner!

Wish me luck!

Thank you for reading, following and favouriting this story! Don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you thought about this chapter!

P.S. Don't you find Blaise's snarkiness to be super endearing? I want to write him more.

Lots of love,

Arty xx