Chapter 37

Fragile Balance

Recap:

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?"

[December 2 2011]

6:56 PM

Harry shot another spell at the creatures, knocking one over to reveal its repelling facelessness. There was a loud bam from below, and the metal support structure they were standing on shuddered.

"They're trying to break in!" someone yelled, but Harry was distracted by the Patronus that sprung through the windows and landed on his shoulder.

"Status report," Hunt's voice bellowed into Harry's ear. "The creatures seem to be life-size puppets of sorts animated through Dark Magic. Normal spells don't seem to work on them; they simply get back on their feet. They broke through our forces with sheer physical force, leaving behind quite a few casualties. They're headed your way, and we're chasing them down, but none of our spells seem to be doing much damage."

Harry and Buxley shared a look as the Patronus dissolved, and Buxley said, "What sort of puppets are able to cast spells?"

"The human sort," Harry answered, tightening his grip on his wand. A thought was running through his mind with regards to what Hunt had said about normal spells not working on the puppets, but he was wary.

"You look like you have an idea," Buxley said, glancing at him sideways as he twisted his wrist and decimated a puppet.

"Might be a dangerous one."

Buxley snorted. "More dangerous than letting these things near the Dark artefacts?"

"Fair point," Harry said before throwing an exploding jinx at a puppet. The support structure shuddered again, and Harry inhaled deeply. "If there are witches and wizards using the puppets as decoys to enter the warehouse, then they're going to steer clear of my spell. I want you to use that split second of confusion to turn the tables on them."

Buxley eyed Harry for a moment before saying, "Don't you get us killed, boss." He turned to address the Aurors on his left. Harry nodded to the Aurors on his right and Disapparated. Appearing halfway in between the wall that the puppets were breaking down and the vault, he half-turned and yelled over his shoulder, "Don't let that shield down no matter what!"

Appearing halfway in between the wall that the puppets were breaking down and the vault, he half-turned and yelled over his shoulder, "Don't let that shield down no matter what!"

Hearing the "Yessir!" he glanced up to see Buxley looking down at him and nodded. His deputy spun around and bellowed, "Get ready, men!"

Harry spread his feet apart and took a wide stance. Pushing his shoulders back, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, focusing all his senses on his magical reserves. As he steadied his breathing, he could feel the sweat dripping down his forehead and the tenseness of his muscles. He was tired enough that he was sure his magic wouldn't get the better of him, but he was still energetic enough that he knew he wouldn't have too much trouble controlling it even if it did.

Taking in another deep breath, he focused on the magic coursing through his veins, concentrating all of his senses on the magical energy and directing it towards his wand. Being able to feel the power flowing within you was one of the very first and most basic things that Aurors were taught during their training. Through the years, Harry had not only come to realise the importance of it, but he had also come to understand the vast difference between simply being able to cast a spell and being able to control it.

And control was definitely one of the major prerequisites for the spell he was about to cast.

His mind and body had slowed down and reached a state of calmness where the sounds around him had become muted and the smallest of sensations had intensified. He opened his eyes, and everything around him was happening as though in slow motion. His usually turbulent mind was empty of thoughts, and his attention was focused completely on the task at hand.

Raising his arms, he moved them in perfect synchrony with each other, his wand a conductor's baton to the symphony of his magic. He watched, unmoving, as the wall before him shattered and the puppets brought to life with Dark Magic bombarded their way into the warehouse. A small piece of rubble flew past him and cut his cheek, but he didn't register the pain. All of his senses were focused solely on the magical energy flowing into his wand, ready to burst forth at his command.

He waited, patient, until the puppets flew past him towards the vault, and he brought his arms down, the incantation leaving his lips in a voiceless whisper.

The Fiendfyre exploded from the tip of his wand with a bang louder than when the wall had shattered, surging around him and engulfing every moving thing within its flaming embrace. The chimaera screeched and roared as it morphed from one form to the next, and Harry brought his arms together in an excruciatingly slow motion, all of his energy going into controlling the beast he had unleashed.

There were pained yells and fearful shouts as the witches and wizards hiding amongst the puppets jumped away before the gigantic eagle swallowed them up in its open beak. Harry belatedly registered multiple pops of Apparition, and Buxley and the others appeared just inside the gaping hole in the warehouse's wall, multiple duels instantly breaking out between friend and foe.

Harry could sense every time his spell swallowed up a puppet's Dark Magic and added it to its own, and he had to force the Fiendfyre down in order to be able to rein it in. It was drawing more out of him than he had thought it would, and he gritted his teeth and dug his heels into the concrete, intent on keeping the flaming creature under his control.

He heard another crash from behind him over the roars of the Fiendfyre and the shouts of battle, and he could barely take a moment to glance away and see that the puppets that Hunt and McCardy had been fighting had arrived as well. Never letting down his guard, he raised his wand above his head and waved it in a large circle.

The Fiendfyre obeyed his will and circled around the vault, surrounding it from all sides: an impenetrable barrier. He didn't even have the luxury to let his thoughts diverge for even a moment to hope that Draco, Zabini and the Aurors atop the vault still had the shield up, because it was taking every bit of his entire being to keep the Dark spell under control.

The puppets kept throwing themselves into the flames mindlessly, doing the one thing they were programmed to do: retrieve the artefacts at all costs. He had lost count of how many puppets the Fiendfyre had consumed, and he kept it circling around the vault until he no longer felt anything else enter its flaming body.

He was so focused on keeping the spell under control that he could barely feel his own body. It was only when a red spark shot up into the air and erupted against the domed roof, signalling that he could cease the spell casting, that Harry jerked his head upwards, as though his neck was a rusted faucet that had to be forced to turn. He then had to concentrate in order to feel his arms again, bring them close together, and stare at the tip of his wand, the source of the flames, as he muttered the countercharm.

The Fiendfyre flickered and hissed, but didn't seem to be in any mood to go out. Gritting his teeth so hard that his jaw hurt, he blinked the sweat out of his eyes and focused all of his magic on suppressing the spell. The creature, now a humongous serpent, came to stand before him in all its ginormous glory, its maw wide open and its flaming eyes staring down at him in challenge.

Harry knew what he had to do, felt it bubble up within him as he eyed the giant snake, and he only hesitated for a moment before baring his teeth and hissing at the serpent. The creature reared back at the command spoken in Parseltongue, and it half-hissed, half-screeched at Harry. For a moment, he thought he had failed, but then the Fiendfyre began to collapse on itself, flames licking the walls and cascading over one another as they seemed to get sucked into an invisible vortex, until it left behind a single, weak-looking Ashwinder on the ground.

He pointed his wand at the remnants of the spell and disintegrated it. The moment the Ashwinder dissolved into nothingness, Harry collapsed to his knees, feeling as though an unbearably heavy weight had been dropped onto his shoulders. He pressed his hands against the floor, breathing heavily, sweat pouring out from every pore of his body. His spectacles slipped off his nose and clattered to the ground, and he simply stared at them through a blurry haze, trying to push away the vignettes that clouded his vision.

People were shouting and yelling above and around him, but the ringing in his ears was too loud for him to be able to discern their words. Someone grabbed his shoulder and twisted him around so he was lying on his back, and hands roamed up and down his aching body, probably to make sure that all his limbs were intact and uninjured.

"'M fine," he murmured, barely able to move his lips. After a moment the hands disappeared and Buxley's voice echoed through the ringing.

Someone propped his head up and something cool was pressed to his lips. He parted them, groaning as the soothing sweet taste of water filled his mouth. Swallowing thickly, he revelled in the coolness as it travelled down his throat and let his eyes flutter shut for a moment.

There was a bang from somewhere close by and Harry's eyes snapped open. He jerked upright, hands roaming around the ground in an attempt to find his glasses. A moment later they were placed on his nose and he looked into stunned grey eyes and a pale face as Draco held out a hand. Harry clutched it tight, letting the blond pull him to his feet.

Not letting go of Draco's hand in fear that he would fall over without the support, Harry turned to Buxley and raised his eyebrows, not trusting himself to speak. His deputy just shook his head, his expression mirroring Draco's, and he said, "I have to say, boss: I have seen you in action before and have always known you were fantastic with your wand work, but this… this was something else. Bloody hell, I'm still shocked we're all alive and standing."

"Status update," Harry croaked, waving his hand weakly at the compliment, and Buxley nodded.

"Right. Well." Buxley's eyes flickered down for a moment before he continued. "You took out every single one of those puppet-creature-things, as well as a few unsuspecting witches and wizards, but we still managed to capture every one of them that entered the warehouse."

"Can't say the same for the ones that ambushed us outside," Rogers said as he jogged up to them. He turned to Harry, glancing down for a moment before saying in a breathless voice, "Sir, that was some magnificent spell-casting. Nothing I've ever seen before. Bloody brilliant." When harry waved his hand again for the man to continue, Rogers said, "Three of them managed to get around us and attacked Wendy and the lads. We destroyed some of the artefacts they tried to make off with and captured one of them, but the other two still managed to escape with two artefacts."

Harry sighed, running a hand down his face. After all that drama, they had gotten away yet again…

"You don't have to look that crestfallen."

He looked up to see Wendy, the middle-aged witch's robes ripped and dirty, and a big, red gash on her cheek, as she hobbled over to them. "In the very last moment, I managed to attach a tracking spell to one of the objects. We may still be able to catch them before they find it."

Harry snapped his head towards Buxley, who was already bellowing orders to a group of Aurors, and Rogers nodded to Harry before taking off to gather his men and leave in pursuit of the perpetrators. Harry then turned to Wendy and smiled. "Thanks," he managed, his voice hoarse. She nodded, a strange expression on her face as she looked down before being led off towards the makeshift first aid station in the corner.

"We better get you checked out too," Draco said, squeezing Harry's fingers, reminding him that they were still holding hands. Shite. That's probably what they were all staring at, Harry suddenly realised, mentally slapping his forehead for being so stupid.

"I'm fine," Harry croaked again, letting go of Draco's hand in embarrassment. He looked around, ignoring Draco's curious gaze fixed on his face as he assessed the extent of damage. Most of the floor and walls were fried, but the vault at the very centre remained untouched. Harry stared at the people bustling about, removing the Dark objects from inside the vault.

"You look like you'll collapse at any moment," Draco finally said, and Harry turned to the blond with a frown.

"Shut up," he muttered, still mortified by the fact that his colleagues had seen him and Draco holding hands and would have surely misunderstood the situation. You're over reacting. Just like a teenage girl, his mind told him, but he told it to shut up as well. Draco's eyebrows shot up at the childish retort, and Harry, who was much too exhausted and embarrassed to come up with something intelligent, said, "Don't make me kiss you," in a poor act of revenge.

Draco's cheeks coloured and he coughed, glancing around to make sure no one had heard. Harry smiled smugly, glad that he wasn't the only one feeling embarrassed. A sudden wave of exhaustion swept over him and he teetered. Draco grabbed Harry's elbow with one hand, looping the other around Harry's waist as he steadied him.

Someone cleared their throat and Harry turned to see Zabini standing before them, a weird expression on his face. He looked from one man to the next, then to their intertwined arms and Draco's hand on Harry's waist, before fixing his gaze on Harry. "I have a lot of things I want to say to you, but first and foremost: your analysts made the best of a horrible situation and managed to identify the less-dangerous Dark objects. I'll give them credit for that. I'll take a look at the others to determine whether or not we'll be able to move them or if we're going to have to diffuse them first. The others can be diffused once they've been moved."

"You can diffuse them?" Harry asked in a croaky voice, causing Zabini to wrinkle his nose.

"Yes, Potter, I can," he said in a voice that would've pissed Harry off if he weren't so tired. Zabini then turned to Draco with raised eyebrows. "Will you be joining me this evening, or are you going to continue to stick to your boyfriend here?"

Harry went rigid and felt Draco stiffen beside him. Face growing hot, he began to pull away, but Draco only tightened his grip around Harry as he said in a low voice, "Let me make sure Harry gets some first aid and I'll be right with you."

Harry glanced at the blond to see that he had a strained smile on his face, and it looked like some sort of non-verbal communication passed between the two men, because Zabini finally made an exasperated motion with his hand as he rolled his eyes and walked away.

"What's his problem?" Harry asked as Draco ushered him towards the first aid station.

Draco sighed, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he said, "He's just... been through a lot. Plus, he had to reschedule an important conference for this, so he isn't in the best of moods. Besides, although your spellcasting and damage-control skills were amazing, that was a dangerous situation we were in." Draco's sadness made Harry's chest ache and he blamed himself for it. "Blaise, he… still hasn't forgiven himself for evacuating during the final battle," Draco said in a quiet voice, almost as an afterthought, as though it was something he had wanted to say out loud for a very long time.

"He wasn't the only one," Harry said in an attempt to placate the blond. "And it was a rather wise decision," he added. "I mean, your friend Crabbe..."

He realised his mistake the moment the words left his mouth, and Draco inhaled sharply, his jaw set. He was staring straight ahead, his eyes stormy, and Harry realised that he shouldn't have made that statement without thinking. Especially not now, after the whole Fiendfyre incident. Talk about insensitive, he scolded himself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No, you're right," Draco interrupted with a sigh. "I've told Blaise as much multiple times, but he thinks I'm just saying it to make him feel better." There was an awkward pause as they walked the seemingly long distance to the first aid station. "But that isn't all," Draco continued. "The reason Crabbe even learned the spell for Fiendfyre was because of an argument between him and Blaise. Blaise told him that an idiot like him would never be able to control a spell as powerful as that, and Crabbe wanted to prove him wrong."

"Except he didn't," Harry murmured, seeing Draco nod out of the corner of his eye. "And Zabini blames himself for Crabbe's death…"

"He does."

"Then me casting the spell must've brought all those bitter memories back," Harry said, shaking his head.

"I have said this time and again, and I will continue to say it," Draco said as they stopped in front of the small, makeshift station. He turned to face Harry, letting go of his arm in the process, his eyes intense. "You saved our lives. You have nothing to apologise for."

Harry swallowed thickly and nodded. He knew Draco wasn't talking about just then, and he couldn't think of anything to say in response.

"Make sure he doesn't run away before a proper check-up," Draco said to the medic who had come up to them with a smile. "I'm going to go do my job now," he then said to Harry before making his way back to the vault.

Harry watched him walk away for a long moment, eyeing the blond's slumped shoulders and exhausted demeanour, various things running through his mind. He was distracted only by the Auror saying, "He's Draco Malfoy, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

"He's so… different than I imagined him to be."

Harry didn't see how she had reached that conclusion after speaking with Draco for hardly a few seconds, but he understood her reaction; he had reacted in much the same when he had first met the blond after so many years, after all. It made sense that people would be surprised when they came to see what sort of a person Draco really was.

"You and me both," Harry said as he settled down on a stool, ignoring the confused look the medic shot him at his weird response. "Is there an energy tonic you can give me? I feel like I'm going to pass out any moment now."

"Of course!" she said as she rummaged through a large box with the Ministry's seal on a big, red plus plastered on the front.

He sighed as he leaned back against the wall and zoned out. He probably had some time to rest before either Buxley or Rogers got back to him on whether or not they were able to catch the runaways, or Draco and Zabini finished examining the artefacts.

I deserve a break, he thought to himself as he gulped down the tonic and shut his eyes.

8:57 PM

"I'll leave it to you, then," Harry said to Rogers over the phone.

Rogers and his men had managed to track down the suspects who had escaped with the artefacts, and Rogers had made the intelligent decision to follow them to their hideout instead of capturing them. He had just called Harry to report to him that they were scoping out what seemed like a temporary hideaway and would call back with more information soon.

"Smart fellow, Rogers," Harry said to Buxley as the man walked up to him.

Buxley only grunted in response before jerking his head in the direction of their captives. "Two more gone."

Harry sighed. "Again? That's five out of a dozen so far. How are they doing it?" Harry asked as he massaged his temples. "We've done multiple full-body searches and confiscated anything remotely lethal."

"No idea," Buxley said with a frustrated sigh. "But if they keep dropping like flies, then everything we've done so far is pointless."

"Sir."

Harry and Buxley turned to see the Auror from the first aid station standing before them with a small packet in her hand. "What's that?" Harry asked as she held it up.

"Some sort of poison. We found it at the corners of the mouth of one of the deceased."

"How did they manage to ingest it?" Buxley asked. "They're fully bound and can barely even move a muscle without being in excruciating pain."

She glanced at the whitish substance in the packet and then at the two men. "This is just my theory since we don't have the equipment required to perform an autopsy or a proper examination, but the poison may have been ingested prior to coming here."

Harry shared a look with his deputy. Buxley then turned back to the medic and said, "Elaborate."

"Well, we know that the body takes around 30 minutes to an hour to digest a capsule and around two to three hours for it to peak blood concentration. So presuming that this poison may have originally been ingested in the form of a powder or a pill, we can deduce that it was consumed just before the attack was commenced."

Buxley ran a hand down his face while Harry sighed and nodded. "Makes logical sense," he said, eyeing the small packet. "Assuming you're correct, does that mean we have no way of saving them?"

The Auror hesitated and Harry gave her a smile of encouragement. She cleared her throat and said, "Well… I won't say it's impossible, but at this point it may be rather difficult."

"But?" Harry asked, sensing that there was more to it than that.

"But we may still stand a chance if I was able to examine this sample and identify the antipoison required to reverse the effects of the poison. I can't guarantee anything, but if we're able to negate or dilute the poison even a little, we may be able to prolong their lives—at least long enough to glean information from them."

Harry nodded. "Buxley, we're moving them to the Ministry. We don't want to waste anymore time here."

"Plus, we know that this extreme measure is what they chose as an alternative for revealing information. That's probably why I haven't been able to break them; they knew they would die a painless death anyway. If they know we have a way of counteracting the poison, they may be a little more compliant," Buxley said, a somewhat menacing glint in his eyes.

"I trust that you won't go overboard," Harry told the man pointedly, but Buxley only grunted before shuffling off. Harry then turned to the medic with a wide smile. "Thank you for your help… Mary. I really do appreciate it." He wasn't sure if he remembered her name correctly, but from the way she beamed at him, he was glad he had eavesdropped on her conversation with one of the Aurors.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear," Wendy said as she hobbled up to them. "Do you mind if me and the rest head back to the Ministry as well? With Mr Zabini's help, we'd be able to diffuse the Dark artefacts and make sure they don't pose any danger."

"Perfect," Harry said. "I'll inform Zabini."

The two women nodded and walked away, leaving Harry to turn towards the vault. He made his way to the small group gathered around it, feeling oddly intimidated at the prospect of speaking with Zabini. There was something about the man that made Harry feel like he knew, or suspected, more about things—regarding him and Draco, that is—than he led on. Shut up, he instructed his racing heart, to no avail.

"Sir," one of the Aurors said as Harry reached them. "Houston says we're moving all of these back to the Ministry. Is that advisable?"

Instead of answering, Harry squatted down and peered into the dimly lit vault. "The pros should be the one to decide," he said, but instead of looking at Draco or Zabini—who had paused in their work to look up when he had begun to speak—he smiled at Wendy's assistants.

"Oh," the lads said, glancing at each other and then at Draco and Zabini. "It should be safe now, shouldn't it?"

Zabini waved a gloved hand, as though the matter didn't concern him, and returned to tinkering with what looked like a distorted candelabra. Draco was the one to answer. "Yes. The ones we've put up barriers around are fine to be transported. I would, however, recommend added protection just to be safe."

"We'll take care of that, sir," one of the lads said, almost reverently. Harry raised his eyebrows at Draco, who shot him a bemused smile before turning back to Zabini.

"Well, that should be the last of it," Zabini said as he carefully stood up. Harry noticed something shimmer over the object, as though there was an invisible bubble covering it, and Zabini nodded at the two assistants. "You can move them now. Carefully."

"Yessir!"

"Looks like you've already got them under your belt," Harry commented as Draco and Zabini climbed out of the vault.

"What can I say? They recognise true skill and ability when they see it," Zabini said, not even attempting to sound modest.

Harry chuckled, having gotten used to his pompousness. "Well, we're moving most of our work back to the Ministry, but what will you two do?"

"I'm afraid I can't be of any more help than this," Zabini said as he took off his gloves and checked his watch. "I have a private plane waiting to fly me to my conference in half an hour, so if you'll excuse me, I need to go make sure those idiot Muggles at the airport haven't manhandled my luggage."

"Thank you for all your help. I owe you. Big time," Harry said as he held out a hand. He truly was grateful for Zabini's help. If it weren't for him and Draco, things probably wouldn't have progressed as smoothly with regards to the artefacts.

Zabini considered him for a moment before taking his hand and shaking it once. "You can count that I'll be calling on you for an equally big favour some time."

Harry smiled. "And I promise to help you to the best of my abilities, no questions asked."

Zabini scoffed, smirking. "That may have worked on Draco, but I'm not that easily wooed."

Harry flushed, his smile faltering momentarily as he tried to retain his composure. Zabini, on the other hand, didn't seem to care for Harry's embarrassment. He nodded to the Aurors as he Transfigured the overcoat he was wearing back into a handkerchief and stuffed it into his pocket. Then, turning to Harry, he said, "I must say that I may have underestimated you, Potter."

With that, and a quick goodbye to Draco, he spun on the spot and Disapparated.

"He's like a bloody whirlwind," Harry said, shaking his head.

Draco chuckled. "Why do you think I'm still such good friends with him? He never fails to keep me on my toes."

"Not in the way I can, I hope," Harry muttered to himself, but when he glanced at Draco, he saw that the blond's eyes were wide and the tips of his ears were pink. "Pretend you never heard anything," Harry said quickly, mortified. He cleared his throat and looked away, and Draco did the same. Harry seemed to have somehow polished his already exceptional ability with digging his own grave that evening.

"Sir!" one of his men called, jogging up to them and, thankfully, dissipating the awkward atmosphere. "The captives are ready to be transported!"

Harry nodded. Turning to Draco, he said, "Do you mind overseeing them—" he nodded at the Aurors moving the artefacts into the back of a truck, "—while I go make sure everything's alright on that end?"

Draco smiled despite the obvious exhaustion lining his features and his still pale complexion, making Harry want to sigh in relief. "Leave it to me."

[December 3 2011]

8:11 AM

"You're leaving already?" Ginny asked as Harry pulled on his coat. "Didn't yet just get back a while ago?"

Harry yawned as he leaned over to peck her on the cheek. He had actually just gotten home a few hours ago because sleeping on the couch in his office was giving him a terrible neck sore. "I told you it was going to be a hectic weekend."

Ginny pursed her lips. "Did you at least eat something?"

"Not really."

"You're not leaving without a proper breakfast, mister," Ginny said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him towards the kitchen.

"But I have to leave!"

"You're going to be no good fallen flat on your face from exhaustion!"

"You're such a task master," Harry said, rolling his eyes, as he perched on the stool by the counter.

"That's what a wife is," Ginny replied with a wink, making Harry snort.

"I'm gonna take a quick power nap, then," he said as he laid his cheek down on the counter, revelling at the feel of the cool metal against his skin.

"Go for it."

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply and letting the exhaustion sink in. The previous night had been hectic, to say the least. He had to oversee Buxley's interrogations, make sure the medical team was working quickly on the antipoison—which they managed to identify and administer in an impressively short amount of time—stay up to date with the situation on Rogers' end, as well as monitor Wendy and her team's progress on diffusing the Dark artefacts.

All in all, he had to be in too many places and be in the know about so many things almost simultaneously that it drove him up the wall. At one point he had just stood staring at a plant in the corridor and zoned out for a good ten minutes in an attempt to regain his sanity.

Hermione had kept herself updated with their progress through back-and-forth memos while keeping Harry informed of the situation in the DMLE at the same time. News of the "violent attack" had already reached the ears of the higher-ups, as well as the media, who wouldn't stop bombarding the Ministry officials with questions until they were forced to pretend like the Ministry had been closed down for the day.

At some point past midnight, Harry had passed out on the sofa in his office, awoken to his neck cracking painfully because of the odd position he had been sleeping in. He had then Apparated home to sleep in his own bed for a couple hours before having to return back to the madness.

"Sweetheart, your phone is ringing," Harry heard Ginny say through the haze of sleep. "Do you want me to get it? It might be someone from work."

He muttered something incoherent without moving, intent on falling straight back into unconsciousness.

"Harry… why is Draco Malfoy calling you on your cell phone?"

That effectively shocked him awake. He jerked upright, blinking furiously as he adjusted his glasses with one hand and grabbed the phone from her with the other. Clicking the green button, he pressed the phone to his ear and cleared his throat before saying, "Hello?"

"Would you like to explain to me why there's an army of Aurors outside my door, accusing me of possessing Dark artefacts and demanding that I let them search my home?"

"What Aurors?" Harry snapped, rising to his feet. "What're you on about?"

"Like I said—" Draco was cut off by a familiar voice that Harry couldn't quite place. Before he could figure out who it was, Draco's voice came back on and he said, "Some joker called Dyers is here, saying he's got a search warrant from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Harry cursed aloud as he strode over to the fireplace and grabbed a fistful of Floo powder. "Is your Floo open?" he asked. "I'm coming over."

"Don't bother with the Floo," Draco said, his voice strained. "I'll let down the wards; just Apparate straight here."

"Got it."

There was a click and the call ended. Harry swore again as he stuffed the phone into his pocket and threw the powder back into its bowl.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked, concerned.

"Dyers making my life difficult for no reason again," he said around the muffin she had handed him.

"Him again? I thought he stopped after he left the force?"

"That's what we all thought," Harry said with a sigh as he stepped back and nodded to Ginny. "See you later, then."

She looked like she had a million questions to ask him, but all she said was, "Be careful," and he shot her a grateful smile for that.

Disapparating, he arrived moments later just inside the threshold of Malfoy Manor. At first, he was going to Apparate inside the house, but that would probably give Dyers more to frustrate Harry about than if he were to appear outside, so he decided to go with the latter.

"Dyers!" he barked as he strode over to the group of Aurors stationed at the front door.

The blond started and turned to stare at him wide-eyed, the shock quickly changing into contempt as he sneered. "Why, if it isn't Head Auror Potter. Shouldn't you be overseeing the investigation?"

"That's why I'm here," Harry snapped, coming to a stop inches away from Dyers. He loomed over the man, glowering at him, until Dyers was forced to step backwards with an uncomfortable cough.

"I—I don't understand," he began, but Harry directed his attention to the Aurors, feeling Draco's gaze on him the whole time and having to use all of his will power from not turning towards the blond immediately and apologising.

He scrutinised each of his men and could tell that they had been coerced into following Dyers' instructions. With a nod to them, he returned his attention to Dyers and crossed his arms. "What don't you understand?" Harry asked, his voice booming. "That we're in the middle of an important investigation and cannot afford to waste time, effort or manpower on your foolish whims and fancies?"

Dyers' cheeks coloured and he bared his teeth, looking like an injured animal. "Well, excuse me for trying to help," he spat.

"I already told you that I will come to you if I ever need your help. Besides," he said, finally acknowledging Draco's presence, "I don't understand how harassing an innocent man and forcing your way into his home first thing in the morning is helping."

"Do you not know who this man is?" Dyers asked, his voice high, as he pointed at Draco, whose expression was stony.

"I know exactly who he is," Harry said, his tone revealing the extent of his dislike towards Dyers. "Do you?"

Dyers faltered, seemingly confused, and one of the Aurors cleared his throat. Harry turned to the man, wanting any excuse to look away from the embarrassment of a former Auror that Dyers was, motioning for him to speak.

"Sir, firstly, we would like to apologise to both you and Mr Malfoy," he bowed towards Draco before continuing, "for the inconvenience caused. Mr Dyers here informed us this morning that he had proof that Mr Malfoy had stolen some of the Dark artefacts before they were transported to the Ministry last evening. When we questioned an Auror who was present at the scene, he confirmed that Mr Malfoy was indeed closely involved with the artefacts, and, while he couldn't comment on whether or not any artefacts were stolen by anybody besides the criminals, he did say that it could have been possible in the confusion."

Harry nodded and thanked the man, both for his apology as well as his honesty. His men were good, hard-working wizards who would only go along with something as outrageous as Dyers' accusations if they thought it posed any sort of threat in any way—especially in the midst of such a tense investigation. Harry didn't blame them; the Malfoys were known to have been in possession of several Dark artefacts and had undergone investigation multiple times after the war for the same. Several people still believed that there were dangerous things lurking within the Manor, hidden away from prying eyes.

"I would like to discuss your informant in detail once we're back in my office," Harry said to Dyers. "But, first, let me put your misgivings to rest. I can fully attest to Mr Malfoy's innocence as I was the one who requested his help yesterday." Dyers' eyebrows shot up at this and murmurs broke out from the Aurors, but Harry decided that there was no point in hiding the truth. He didn't want to get Draco in any more trouble than he already had. Him leaving Zabini out was something he hoped would play in his favour when Harry was begging Draco for forgiveness.

"We were desperate, short of help, and didn't have enough information or knowledge regarding the artefacts," Harry continued. "Mr Malfoy was a great help, as I am sure anyone from the examination team, as well as the Aurors who were with them, can confirm."

He motioned towards the gates. "Now, if you have any further questions or concerns that outweigh the present investigation, then I will gladly answer each and every one of them in detail."

Dyers muttered something else but Harry had already turned to the Auror who had spoken up earlier. "Bennett, can you give me a status report?"

"Yessir!"

"And the rest of you—please escort Mr Dyers back to the Ministry and inform Mrs Weasley of what happened here. I'll join you shortly."

"Yessir!"

Harry then turned to Draco and said, "I am extremely sorry for this; I take full blame for the situation."

Draco only nodded once in response, and Harry's heart fell. The blond's eyes were cold, his jaw was set, and his expression was emotionless. He looked almost like an exact replica of Lucius back when Harry was in his second year; when he had put Lucius in a tough spot and the man had barely been able to contain his humiliation and outrage. It was not something Harry remembered fondly.

He forced himself to turn back to Bennett and listen to the man's report half-heartedly; his thoughts were filled with what he could possibly do to get Draco to forgive him. Once the Auror was done, he excused himself to return to the Ministry, and Harry finally turned back to Draco.

"I'm so, so sorry," he said, coming to stand beside the man. "I swear, if I had any idea what he was up to—"

"I would feel terrible if I were to blame the Head Auror for his subordinates' mistakes. Clearly, this was not ordered by you, and you responded to my call immediately, so I have nothing to complain about."

Draco's voice was crisp and formal, much like the first time he had met Harry, as though they were complete strangers.

"Draco, please," Harry said, a lump forming in his throat. Just the thought of the blond being angry with him made him desperate to appease him. "Tell me how I can make it up to you."

Draco glanced away, and after a moment, he said quietly, "Please leave."

"Draco—"

"There are people waiting for you—depending on you. I don't want to keep you from saving the world." He glanced over his shoulder for a moment, and Harry thought he caught sight of Astoria in the shadows. "Besides, I don't want my family to have to endure any more of this misunderstanding. They've already faced enough unjust criticism for being Malfoys than I will allow."

Draco's voice was so distant and strained that it broke Harry's heart. It was almost as though he was telling Harry to walk out of his life—forever.

I can't have that. Not now. I haven't even told him how I feel yet.

"Can I see you again?" Harry asked, wincing when his voice broke.

Draco glanced at him, and he must've seen the pain on Harry's face because his expression softened in the slightest. "Why don't you focus on your investigation? That's more important, after all."

Hardly, Harry wanted to say, but he knew he had to respect Draco's wishes. Now that he had confirmed his feelings, he no longer had the guts to push as hard as he had before. He was too afraid of their fragile relationship shattering into smithereens so small that they would never be able to be pieced back together again.

"I'll come see you," Harry said, taking a step back. "As soon as all of this is over and done with, I'll come see you."

Draco smiled in a way that made Harry want to rip his heart out and throw it far, far away. "Goodbye, Harry."

A/n: I will admit that writing that last bit hurt me a little too much T_T I mean, Draco's reaction is understandable. He specifically told Harry that he had worked very hard to keep his record clean, and just the next morning this asshole shows up at his door accusing him of things he never did.

For those of you who wanted to see Draco's reaction to everything that happened: that's coming in the next chapter.

Also, what did you guys think about Harry successfully casting Fiendfyre? I thought it was about time he had a badass moment in this story ;3

I also like writing a Harry who's realising the depth of his feelings for Draco. Don't you feel like no matter how old you are, in front of the person you like you turn into a squealing, bumbling, fumbling mess? At least in your head, even if you're able to be perfectly stoic outside xD

(The way I talk about this story you'd never think I was the one who wrote it XD Once a Drarry fangirl, always a Drarry fangirl lol.)

Let me know what you thought!

Lots of love,

Arty xx