"So she just… fell through?" Harry asked.

Narcissa nodded. "Indeed."

They were standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Its sixth step up had broken off, its edges resembling glittering chalk. The hole that Kerry had fallen into was two feet wide and the step below it had some blood chafed on its edge.

A fog slowly emanated from the blackness of the chasm but its flow was interrupted, as if whatever lurked there was breathing.

"There was no sound apart from her cry," Narcissa added. "No cracking, no crash, no sound of cascading rubble… I have not yet assessed the situation downstairs, in case observation might affect it."

Harry nodded. "Okay, thanks."

"…I would not want to obstruct you in your duties," She added meaningfully.

Harry leaned over to take a closer look at the glittering edges. "It's marble, isn't it?"

Narcissa nodded. "Indeed, and to my knowledge nothing of note has occurred on that particular step."
There was a moment of silence before she asked: "…you are aware of the nature of the state of the drawing room floor?"

Harry looked at her incredulously.
"That it's unstable, you mean?"

A wry smile fleeted across her face.
"…you have not been informed about its particularities?"

When the fuck was he supposed to have figured that out?
"No, I was focused on Greyback's chair, remember?"
Harry realised he'd snapped and tried to reel himself back in.

Be professional.

Fucking Residue getting to him.

Narcissa seemed taken aback, a brief expression of shock swiftly making way for features as plain and neutral as a doll's. "I see." She said, composed and formal.

"What about it though?" Harry asked, restraining himself and feeling like a dick.

She pressed her lips together and it took a moment before she spoke.
"…it is my understanding that you will be Assessing and disposing of the Residue, is this not so?"

Malfoy had asked him that every five minutes during Harry's first shift, hadn't he?

Why did they think he was here?
Did they think he'd gotten lost or something?

"Yes, it is so," He said, feeling petty after the words left his mouth.

She focused her shockingly blue eyes on him. "…have you at all noticed any regularities in the floor's… instability?"

"No," Harry responded, tempted to point out again that his focus had been elsewhere.

She nodded as if in consideration. "…the floor, Auror Potter," - she gave him a meaningful look - "is influenced by Draco's… demeanour."

Harry stared at her.

"…I thought he would have mentioned it by now, but I suppose it might have… slipped his mind." She sighed.

She clearly thought Malfoy and him were getting along far better than they actually were.

Harry wasn't going to correct her.
"…so when it flung me into the wall the first day I was here…" He trailed off, hoping he got this right.

"Auror d'Errico has been good to us… and Draco hates saying goodbye."
Her voice disappeared at the end of the sentence.
"Apologies - these are difficult times." Her inhale sounded like a gasp and she focused on the hole in the stairs again.
She sounded strained when she continued. "Draco loves to play and the acoustics in the drawing room are superb… but the floor has been misbehaving since the second of May."

She paused, looking at the bloodied marble.

"When he… After he -… When he was-…"
Her voice trembled and she trailed off, taking a moment to breathe deeply.
"…he complained of imbalance… I thought I could reduce his suffering by attempting to Break the floor's Manifestation."

She swallowed.

"My efforts appeared fruitful until Draco came home. And now, well - " Her tone became conciliatory - "It appears to align with him."

Harry looked at her incredulously. "He controls it?"

"I have no reason to believe that his will has any sway…" She said, still looking at the gap in the stairs.

Great, so the manifestation synchronised with Malfoy's madness.

The unnatural darkness still exhaled fog, and its every breath ate away at the topic until it no longer felt present.
Just when Harry was ready to focus on the task at hand again, Narcissa said: "…he dressed particularly quickly this morning."

"Sorry?"

"Auror Himmelman told me Draco was still in bed, yet he descended with Auror Petty relatively shortly after she had gone up to greet him."
Her tone was neutral.

That Kerry had gone up even before Malfoy had gotten up made sense - Harry had done the same thing the day before yesterday.
…and Malfoy had taken about twenty minutes to get dressed before they'd gone to see the memory, hadn't he?

Harry tried to remember how long it had taken Malfoy yesterday, but the end of the afternoon felt as surreal as a dream.

And what had the log said again?
Fuck, he'd held the thing only five minutes ago.

Harry had been so busy blocking out the conversation between Malfoy and Luna, that he hadn't paid attention to when exactly Auror Petty had been 'incapacitated'.

"…okay…" He said, unsure of what to make of this. "What are you saying?"

Narcissa's tone was meaningful. "I am no Auror; I just observe."

"That's Auroring 101," Harry said, echoing Tristan.

To his surprise, Narcissa snorted. "In that case; who knows what the future might hold."
There was some amusement there.

Harry hadn't seen that before.

It faded quickly.

He smiled at her briefly, then turned back to his job.
"Right, so the step broke underneath Auror Petty and she fell… Did she say anything in particular? Did anything stand out?"

Narcissa became more grave. "…she was eager to express her suspicions as to the cause of her fall… but that was to be expected."

Harry was indeed not surprised.
"Was it?" He asked anyway, wondering whether she would have anything interesting to add.

She nodded slowly, a single time.
"The Ministry's decision to have Draco watched is… just." She raised her head, looking haughty. "…and I of course subscribe wholeheartedly to the laws governing magical Britain…"
Ice seeped into her tone: "…however… it cannot escape one's notice that the execution of these laws is left to individuals…"

She briefly looked as if she smelled something nasty, but the expression quickly changed to polite neutrality.

He regarded her and wondered whether she was pissed at every Auror she'd met or at Petty specifically. He couldn't work it out but nodded anyway. "Okay. So you think Auror Petty is biased against your son?"

She looked into his eyes but he couldn't read her face so he again nodded as if he'd received an answer.

He had no idea how to estimate Narcissa.

She hadn't always been pleasant, but she'd lied to Voldemort, which had been great…

…but would she lie to Harry too?

She continued to watch him with no facial expression whatsoever, then spoke after Harry had expected her to:
"…I trust that Auror Himmelman spoke truthfully when he informed me that Draco was in bed at the beginning of Auror Petty's shift…" She blinked once, speaking calmly. "Dressing oneself takes significantly longer when one has only a single arm available, especially considering the fallibility of the bandages and the delicacy of the injury…"

Her gaze suddenly intensified and her tone sharpened:
"I shall not make accusations against your colleague, Auror Potter, since I am aware of my position. But though intentions are good, they could still fuel despicable acts."

She hadn't answered any of his questions, and Harry took a moment to consider the poor Aurors who'd had to interrogate the Malfoys.

Was 'evasion' part of 'rhetoric tutelage'?

He shook his head a bit, trying to focus on what she had actually said.

…she hadn't specified whose intentions were good…
Also, was she suggesting that Kerry had made Malfoy dress faster?

…and she'd brought up that his 'demeanour' influenced the drawing room floor, hadn't she?

Wait.
Malfoy had mentioned something about Manifestations being infested with certain individuals the other day, hadn't he?

Harry couldn't remember whether he'd elaborated at the time… but if Malfoy influenced the floor and was part of the bedroom cluster, it wasn't a stretch to think he was 'in the stairs', as well.

"You mean that she got on his nerves and the stairs responded?"

She looked at him meaningfully. "Draco would not intentionally harm anyone, especially not an Auror."

Not with a knife when he has his wand.

Harry nodded as he thought.

Even if he left the war out of consideration, Malfoy hadn't exactly been a delight.

…unless you were Ginny, who he had to send fucking essays to, apparently.

Harry nodded some more, remembering how Malfoy had petrified him, kicked him in the face and then left him invisible and helpless on the train.

Did his mum have any idea what he got up to?

"Okay, thanks." He said curtly. "Anything else that could be useful?"
He didn't expect there to be, but he wanted to give her every opportunity to share what she thought she knew.

"I will inform you if anything comes to mind," She nodded. "Do you suppose it's warranted to enter the brewing room?"

Harry shook his head as he remembered the bottle Malfoy had smashed at Grimmauld. "…really burns through his draughts, doesn't he…" He muttered, annoyed by the implied time pressure.

He had no idea what he was doing.

The books he'd found on Residue had all mentioned the Shrieking Shack, so they clearly weren't too reliable… and what else did he have to go on?

If only Hermione — …

He snapped himself out of that thought as quickly as he could.

She and Ron were focusing on their N.E.W.T.s, he didn't want to drag them into his shit again.

Besides, it wasn't even his - it was Malfoy's.

Harry could drop this at any time.

…and leave these people to their own devices.

…

Harry realised that Narcissa was coldly regarding him.

"Thanks, I'll let you know," He said in a finalising tone.

Her gaze lingered for a few more seconds, but then she glided towards the dining room as if they hadn't been speaking at all.

…he'd been rude, hadn't he?

He rubbed his eyes, adjusted his glasses, and regarded the broken step for a bit longer.

Would the brewing room ramp manifest differently now?
…would it matter?

It wasn't like he'd known what was going on with it before.

And would Malfoy have 'influenced' the stairs?
Did he even know he controlled the drawing room floor?

If he didn't, Harry shouldn't tell him.
Judging from what he'd tried to do with the Chair, he'd probably use it against someone… and with Himmelman on duty, it would definitely have consequences beyond an awkward conversation.

When the Ministry would be finished with Malfoy's 'family home since 1068', it would be nothing but an eerie field.

Harry sighed and wondered whether the git would have written Luna an essay already.

It seemed best to check.

Luna had turned her chair towards Himmelman's so Harry could see the side of her face. Himmelman had turned a little towards her, but Malfoy was still firmly in his line of sight.

The floor felt as if it was gently spinning and made Harry slightly queasy.
It had done the same when Harry had been about to Floo Tristan…

What kind of 'demeanour' was this, then?

Harry had missed the beginning of Luna's sentence, but caught its end:
"-… different species."

"Extinct for centuries." Himmelman stated dismissively.

Malfoy was looking in Harry's direction, apparently not partaking in the conversation. Harry stared back at him, wondering whether he could see him or whether he was distracted by a 'gathering of shadows'.

"Not really," Luna said meaningfully. "It's tricky because they're spatially challenged, but that doesn't mean they've gone extinct."

Himmelman nodded. "Because of their prismatic distortion and their elusive angles, it's impossible to tell whether they're facing forwards or slantwise, let alone whether they're present in this realm."

Luna nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly!"

Harry had approached and considered this the right moment to break in. "What are you talking about?"

"Nargles," said Luna, at the same time as Himmelman said "Cthulu."

Harry locked eyes with Malfoy, who looked as confused as he felt. The floor now behaved like a boat on calm water.

"…right," Harry turned back to his colleague, "Auror Himmelman, d'you mind if I take Malfoy for some Residue business?"

Himmelman returned the gaze with a face like steel. "Am I looking away?" He asked after a few seconds.

Was he still suggesting Luna should rough Malfoy up?

"There's no need," Harry said, "I just want to ask him about this morning."

Himmelman nodded slowly in understanding. "I am monitoring the charge," He said with his quiet authority.

Harry looked at Luna and wondered whether he should shield her from the conversation.

He didn't have to: This was 'gathering intel for Assessment', not an interrogation.
Malfoy was not being accused of anything.

Yet.

But even with Luna blocked out, Himmelman would still be present… Harry expected Malfoy to mind that far more.

"Do you want me to silence Luna out before I ask my questions?" Harry asked because he felt that he had to offer.
In response, Malfoy's eyes went over to Himmelman as if to indicate him, then locked into Harry's again.
Harry wasn't going to prevent his colleague from doing his job, so he shrugged. "He's your Monitor."

Malfoy didn't respond and shortly after, the floor began to feel like a descending lift.

"Can we do this in another room?" Harry asked Himmelman.

Malfoy slowly averted his gaze to Luna and forced a smile that didn't involve his eyes.

Two seconds later the floor began to tilt.

Harry flung himself forwards too late and ended up on his knees. His jeans had no grip so he slid backwards, away from the sitting area.

By some miracle he did not hit his head on the back of the piano.

"All right, Auror Potter?" Himmelman asked, alarmed. He looked like he wanted to stand up but wisely decided against it.

The wall felt more level than the floor did, so Harry leaned against it.
"Yeah, this is…" He sighed in resignation, "…fine."

He knew what had gone wrong - by addressing Himmelman, he'd taken away the agency Malfoy could have had. And apparently a tilting floor meant he was pissed off.

Can't manipulate anyone when you don't get a say though.

Harry huffily adjusted the position of his shoulder blades against the panelling and waited for the tilt to level. None of this could be fun for Malfoy but fuck, it wasn't fun for Harry either.

Luna turned to watch him dreamily as he wondered whether he was going to need Vertigone again.

"The floor is dangerous," Himmelman told her, unprovoked.

"Isn't that a game?" Luna asked, smiling as she sat cross legged on the chair.

"That would be 'the floor is lava'," Himmelman sounded admonishing, "But this isn't the time for games. The danger in this building is real, unlike your creatures."

Luna turned back to him. "They're not mine," She said, as she regarded him as if he was a painting.

The tilt increased - Harry scrambled to sit on the wall for fear of accidental flying.

Why was it getting worse? Nothing had been said to 'change Malfoy's demeanour', had it?

He craned his neck to see the three of them seated there, Luna and Himmelman framing his view of Malfoy, who looked right back at him.
Harry's position made him feel as if he was stargazing.

After a few seconds Malfoy's gaze drifted off to something invisible.

Shortly after the tilt levelled — the floor was again like a boat on calm water.

Harry had broken his fall with his hands and got up, glad to not be nauseous.
"Malfoy - let's talk in the entrance hall," He commanded.

Malfoy got up without looking at him, and hovered the Spectrespecs and the mug after him.

Did he actually care about that stuff? It seemed out of place here - too modern, brightly coloured and too big somehow, as well.

Luna followed him, apparently unbothered by any part of this situation.

Himmelman walked behind her and the moment they entered the entrance hall, he got out the FieldScroll and started to write.
His every movement was brisk and he never let Malfoy out of his sight.

Luna watched him curiously.

"I write down every bit of magic this criminal performs, and anything else that could indicate suspicious activity." Himmelman said to her, apropos of nothing.

"She was in Ravenclaw, you know," Malfoy said curtly, briefly looking him up and down.
Himmelman's gaze snapped to his and they stared into each other's eyes.

Malfoy went a shade or two paler, but his expression didn't change.

The fog in the entrance hall raised and the smell of mildew faded in.

"Is that so?" Himmelman asked as he looked upwards to the fog, and then back to Malfoy. His eyes were the only part of him that moved.

Luna opened her mouth to speak but Harry decided to get to business. "Malfoy - focus please. Do you want me to silence Luna out?"
He tried not to sound too annoyed.

It shouldn't be necessary to ask twice.

Malfoy looked back at him with some incredulity. "Luna does not need to be excluded, but thank you for offering." He sounded tense.

"Okay, cool." Harry got out his FieldScroll. "Tell me what happened this morning."

Silence.

He looked up - Malfoy looked back at him and his face was hard to read. "…can I offer you the memory instead?" He asked tonelessly.

"You're an Occlumens, aren't you?" Himmelman wasn't actually asking.

Oh, right.
Aurors didn't generally take memories from suspects because they might change them.

They'd dealt with false memories in training and — …

…

Harry remembered how often he'd put his face in the Pensieve in front of his fellow Junior Aurors.

Fuck, had any of them done it too?
He'd been so busy taking notes and watching the actual memories that he couldn't tell whether he'd been the only one.

None of them had laughed at him though…

…probably because he was 'The Chosen One'…

Fuck's sake.

He shook his head a bit and tried to focus.

If Malfoy was trying to fuck him over, it might be good to know what he wanted him to believe.

…though since he considered Harry's conscience his weak spot, he'd probably make himself look like a victim.

Harry ought to be prepared for that.

The Spectrespecs and the mug that had trailed in the air behind Malfoy seemed to be gently floating away from him. Luna went over to stand beside him and gently took his wrist.

Harry lowered the Scroll again as he sighed. "Sure, why not," He said, and Malfoy gave a little nod.

Both he and Luna now stood straight across from Harry and Himmelman - Harry hadn't even realised how much they had physically taken sides.

Moving to stand at a ninety degree angle between his colleague and Malfoy would be too obvious at this stage though…

Was he being unprofessional? Or too professional? Staying here now that he'd noticed was making a point too, wasn't it?

Harry shook his head and tried to clear it as he handed over a vial, perhaps a bit more briskly than he otherwise would have done. The annoyance he felt had to be fuelled by Residue, but knowing that didn't make it any less.

When Malfoy didn't immediately take the vial from him, he gestured it towards him with an insistent encouraging nod.

Malfoy stiffly took and then held it as his cheeks went pink.

Harry was impressed by how he could control his face, but wondered what the point was. Malfoy didn't really think that 'looking awkward' was going to kick his conscience into gear, did he?

Then Luna took the vial and held it up, removing the stopper for him too.

Oh, right…

…he only had one hand.

Harry felt a bit awkward about having forgotten about that.

What had he expected him to do? Throw it in the air and catch it with a hovering charm?

The pink in Malfoy's face increased and he swallowed, still without a facial expression. He moved his wand to his temple and closed his eyes.

The lack of flourish made him look small.

He stood there, breathing as steadily as a machine, while Himmelman continued to write in the log.

After a full minute Malfoy led the wispy white strands from his head to the vial. There he curved his wand away with the same diagonal motion he'd used the other day.

The memory neatly curled into its destination.

Luna stoppered it and handed it to Harry with a little smile.

"Thanks," Harry said, forcing his tone neutral so the Residue-induced annoyance didn't seep through.

"…do you have any idea when the stairs will be safe to use?" Malfoy asked stiffly, still rasping.

"I don't know," Harry said, still struggling not to be too angry. He hadn't considered when he'd be done and figured he should just start at the beginning and see what he'd find.

"…there are guest rooms on the ground floor, aren't there?" Himmelman asked dismissively as he peered up from his log with disinterest.

Malfoy slowly nodded. "Indeed… But Auror Potter has commenced Assessment on a chair in my bedroom which is — "

"The Auror who is supposed to monitor you has sustained yet unidentified injuries on these stairs, and you're worried about your bedroom furniture." Himmelman narrowed his eyes as he looked up at Malfoy properly. "Are Auror lives disposable to you?" He held up his quill as if he was about to continue writing.

Oh yeah, the Phantom Mark would burn if Malfoy slept in another room, wouldn't it?

"I'm not saying anything of the sort," Malfoy croaked tensely, "Auror Potter is aware of the peculiarities of the situation and — "

"Regardless," Himmelman said curtly as he lowered the quill, "You are in no position to make your problems anybody else's. Someone has been injured. Your selfishness is misplaced."

Malfoy was breathing heavier than before and the red blotch had appeared in his neck again. "Yes, sir," He said softly.
The blue vein in his cheek moved a bit when he set his jaw. "Anything else I can do for you, Auror Potter?" He asked through clenched teeth.

"No, thanks," Harry said, feeling at least as out of place as he had in Malfoy's bathroom yesterday. "I'll just er… Take this memory to headquarters and have a look." He swallowed.
"I'll try to be quick, yeah," He added reassuringly.

Malfoy gave a small nod in response.

"Do you mind if I stay with you?" Luna asked Malfoy, who had begun to shake his head before she'd fully phrased the question.

"Please," He answered, and Harry caught some relief in his tone.