Harry smiled all the way until they reached the first tee.

Yet, he was surprised to learn that upon arriving there just behind Tonks, to see Sally-Anne and Hugh play their first shot, that Margery and Richard were waiting for him too alongside Dudley and Jane.

The elder couple were decked out with tartan trousers tucked into long socks, Richard's awful moustache at last at home with his awful attire.

He didn't quite know why the sight was so shocking to him. They had said before that they were close friends with Hugh's family. Yet even as Margery hugged Hugh in congratulations of his impressive drive, it still slotted oddly in his mind's eye.

There was no magic behind its strangeness, Harry knew, but still, he could not rid himself of the idea that something was odd about the couple. Yet, he had no time at all to consider it fully as he was greeting the couple then. Richard stopped mid-conversation to walk over to greet him, leaving the rest of his playing party in his midst.

"Hadley, wasn't it?" he asked. "It's good to speak again so soon. I must apologise for our quick disappearance the other morning."

Harry shook his head. "It's alright," he said, dropping he and Tonks' golf bags. Behind Richard, Harry watched Tonks rush over to their conversation. "We have an entire round of golf now."

The prospect wasn't as foreboding as it might well have been as, within Harry, any distaste at socialising was replaced by sheer curiosity. By Tonks' hurry to join them, Harry gathered the feeling was shared.

Richard chuckled. "That we do," he said. "Have you played much?"

"Hardly any."

"Nor had I at your age, to tell the truth." Richard smiled. "As I took to work, I soon found the only way to know of anything in business was to spend your Saturdays trawling around the trees and hills of this great isle, searching for a ball you've long since given up as lost."

"You're not selling it very well, Richard."

"My words are more warning than sales pitch. You may soon find an appreciation for all of the pines that England has to offer," Richard said, all while blissfully grinning. Tonks chose that moment to appear at Harry's side, her arm threading around his waist. "Unless you're Tiger Woods, the company is the only reason to be there."

Harry and Tonks shared a smile.

"Richard," called out Hugh, having finished his first shot. "Your stroke."

"The company awaits," said Richard. "Actually, why don't we all play as an eight?" He placed the backs of his knuckles at his hips, not unlike a teapot. "It's a shade unconventional, but I've yet to meet many of Sally-Anne's guests, and I'm sure my dear wife and the lovely couple wouldn't mind."

"Erm—" Harry started.

"—we'd love to!" Tonks declared. She gave Harry a significant look; one that brought him nodding along quickly.

It would make their job a slight bit easier. But, more interestingly, it would provide more time to uncover the potential of this, perhaps imaginary, potential mystery.

"Absolutely. It'll be nice to know more about Sally-Anne's new family," Harry said. He would apologise to Sally-Anne later. Richard's smile dimmed. "That's what you seem like, anyway, blood or no blood."

"Family, eh?" Richard asked. The question was not addressed to Harry, but rather the word 'family'. "I'll go and let the others in the family know of the change in plans."

Tonks did not speak until Richard was well out of hearing distance.

"Stephen and Margery had to be married or something, right?"

"Had to."

"Right?"

"They were not," said Jane, who, alongside Dudley, had somehow managed to sneak up on the two wizards. She looked at Harry. "I was just about to congratulate you on helping our job be performed more smoothly, yet now I see your motives were elsewhere."

"Are we incapable of having two different, yet equally potent desires?" Tonks asked. "My mind wants this case through home and dry, but truthfully? My heart wants to know what's going on with those two."

"There is nothing going on," whispered Jane. "If there was, Interpol would be most aware of it, especially when one considers that Richard is Richard Jeffers, the Chief Executive Officer of Nordic Petroleum, a multi-billion dollar oil company. Yet, there is nothing."

"Jeffers?" Harry and Tonks asked at once.

Jane nodded.

"How's that spelt?" Harry asked.

"J-E-F-F-E-R-S," said Jane. "As is truly the only way of ever spelling such a name."

"That name was not used on the guest list," Tonks said. "It said they were Richard and Margery Greenwich."

"That is Margery's maiden name," said Jane. "Such obfuscation is standard protocol for anyone who is as wealthy as they are."

Harry turned to Tonks. "Not a common name, is it?" he asked.

"Not at all," she said. William Jeffers, the Auror, was a half-blood too, his father a muggle. "This all lines up too easily. There's no way this can be a coincidence. I mean, why would Jeffers not mention that he knew one of the guests, especially one so close to the bride and groom?"

"You don't think—"

"—It would make sense," Tonks said, in an erratic hush. "Two attacks, both using magic, the whisky passing by Auror detection." She let out a decided noise of affirmation. "And, you know the day of the first attack, July the twenty-ninth?" Harry nodded. "Jeffers was suspended. For hitting his own partner with a spell."

And, he'd asked to do surveillance work on a case in non-magical surroundings. There wasn't an Auror in the force that would want to do that willingly, redemption or not.

Harry's eyes focused on Richard Jeffers, his arm around Hugh's shoulder, gripping him tightly. "But what's the motive?" he asked. "We're talking about accusing another Auror here. We need to be sure."

Tonks threw her hands in the air. "I've no idea," she said. "All I know is that the alarm bells are ringing in my head here. This has to be the answer."

"I trust you," said Harry.

"That means that the suite the Powells were in still might have something in it," Tonks said. "For the time being, I can't trust anything that Jeffers has done. I didn't before, but more so now."

Thankfully, the daytime surveillance team was still at the Lansbury Hotel, though ordinarily, they would not be for much longer. Harry could see Alicia Spinnet and Jake Howard sat at the windows of the lounge, watching discreetly through the windows. Harry met their eyes, very indiscreetly, ushering them to come outside.

Alicia gave him a confused frown, but Harry repeated his ushering insistently, and the pair of them got up.

Tonks looked at Jane. "Our surveillance team is coming here," she said. "They're going to take our place."

"You are abandoning the person you're intending to protect, in order to chase after some half-cooked theory that has nearly zero chance of being right?" Jane asked, all in one breath. "How incompetent are you trying to be?"

"I trust Alicia with my life," said Harry. He had since he was eleven. "I'd trust her with anyone else's too. Just don't let Richard and Margery out of your sight."

"Are you being serious?"

"Deadly," said Harry. "If something happens, Alicia can send a message and we'll be here immediately."

Jane let out a huff; her smile disappearing completely. "This is the issue with you wizards," she said. "You can conjure whatever you like out of thin air, and you like it so much you do it in every aspect of your life. It is maddening."

Harry turned to Dudley. "I'm serious, don't let him out of your sight," he said. "If he tries to leave, take him down."

Dudley nodded. "We've got this. Take care of the rest." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pager. "Take this. If something goes wrong with your team, it's good to have back up."

Harry nodded, pocketing the pager. "Thanks." He looked at Tonks. "We just need to get out of here without arousing suspicion."

"We're going to arouse suspicion no matter what we do. We just said we're playing golf with them," Tonks said, only for her eyes to go wide; a touch wider than they could ever go naturally. "Unless—"

"—What?" Harry asked.

"Harry, cast a vomiting curse at me," Tonks said, her voice brooking no argument. "Make it a softer one. I don't want to die."

Harry looked at her oddly, though his hand brushed against his wand all the same, its tip pointed at Tonks through the cotton of his shorts.

"Bileructo," Harry whispered.

He'd not cast the spell since his second year, yet the result was just the same.

Tonks fell to her knees in an instant, her spine stiff as the magic worked through her digestive system for several moments until her face took a greenish-yellow, and with neither pride nor ceremony, she regurgitated the contents of her stomach onto the first tee.

After that first retch, Harry dispelled his magic as it had already served its purpose in attracting the attention of the others, with Sally-Anne, Hugh, Richard, and Margery soon crowding around Tonks alongside the still lingering Jane and Dudley.

Harry fell to his knees alongside Tonks, his hand falling to the small of her back, rubbing circles there.

"Love, are you okay?" he asked, rather uselessly. "Is it something you've eaten?"

Tonks just groaned.

"We've got to get you inside," Harry said, just loud enough for the others to hear. His eyes met Hugh's. "I'm so sorry about this, but we've got to get this looked at."

"My cousin is a doctor," said Hugh. "I'll ring him now if you'd like?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm a registered nurse," he told them. "I think it's probably just the heat, but she needs to be inside." He looked at Richard. "I'm sorry, but this is urgent."

He waved a hand. "I understand completely," he said, taking Margery's hand in his. "Take care of your beloved."

Harry wrapped his arm around Tonks' waist and slowly began to guide her to her feet. Tonks leaned into his arms, allowing him to support her as she stood, her shoulders hunched, forcing her to appear small as she was held by him.

Tonks gave the group a tight-lipped, beleaguered smile. "Sorry," she gritted out. "I d-don't know what came over me."

"Just make sure you feel better for tomorrow," said Sally-Anne, with a soft smile that did not meet her eyes. Her eyes, instead, toward Harry for a moment. He gave her a nod.

"Thank you," Tonks got out, her eyes closing and a pained expression falling to her features.

In Harry's arms, Tonks staggered toward the Lansbury Hotel. They passed Alicia and her partner at the doors, with his former team-mate holding them open.

"The old couple," Harry said as they passed her. "Don't let them leave. And don't trust Jeffers."

"Never did anyway," said Alicia. "What do you think it is?"

"Not sure. We think he might know Jeffers, but we don't know," said Harry. "The perp works with compulsions. Could be that." He sighed. Could even be the Imperius, both the Jeffers. We don't know, but we're going to find out."

"You two are Sally-Anne's friends," whispered Tonks. "She'll play along."

Alicia clapped Harry on the back. "We've got this," she said to him. Harry smiled. "Go do your work."

Albeit slowly, Harry and Tonks managed to stagger into the nearest available toilet, whereupon Tonks stood up straight, her pained expression disappearing.

"You alright?" Harry asked.

Tonks nodded. "Bit of a stomach ache, but other than that I'm right as rain," she said. "You're a nurse?"

"Gotta help Taylor kill her parents somehow." He eyed the toilet door. "We need to check the Powell's room."

"I've had nothing through the wards. I keyed them pretty sensitive, and no-one's even tried to touch them so we have time, but probably not very much."

Tonks then closed her eyes, and her appearance shifted. Gone was the heart-shape of her face, replaced by hard angularity upon the figure of a lady of middle-age, with straight black hair, blue eyes, and thin lips.

"If anyone catches us like this, you're having an affair," Tonks said.

"I've got a thing for older women?"

"Damn right you do."

Tonks pointed her wand at her dress, transfiguring it into the uniform of the hotel staff; black trousers and a white shirt, with a black tie in a full Windsor.

Without delay, they burst out of the bathroom and hurried into the hotel's foyer hand in hand, moving as fast as possible without running. They burst past the crowd that lingered there, talking with one another, earning several disapproving tuts as they rushed.

The lift was free, and Tonks smashed her hand against the button over and over and over until it descended into view. She pulled them in, and Harry hit the button to the second floor. Discreetly, Tonks pointed her wand at the doors, pulling them closed before anyone could even think of attempting to join them in there.

They stared straight ahead, waiting for the doors to open once more. Harry's spine tensed, his heart beginning to beat faster.

"Just, as a word of advice," Tonks said, "if you're in a lift with someone — but mainly me — and, at some point, they say 'make me' as a response to anything you've said, it's usually a fair invitation to throw them against the nearest available surface and have your way with them."

Harry's skin grew hot. "We're working."

"I know," she said. "But for the future, I thought you'd like to know."

"It's much appreciated." Harry pushed his hands into his pockets. "How far into the future are you thinking?"

"The moment this case ends."

"That's quite…sudden."

"Most things are."

"Hey, Tonks?"

"Yeah?"

"You know when, a couple of days ago, you said you wanted you to seem less special? In our room?" Tonks nodded. "That's never going to happen."

"Why's that?"

"You're never not going to be special to me."

Tonks beamed.

"That's the nicest way anyone's ever said I turn them on," she said. "I'm impressed."

The lift door dinged open before Harry could respond; the sound erasing Tonks' smile, their eyes finding focus on the endless corridor that extended itself in front of the two of them.

Harry and Tonks took off sprinting, the numbers growing as they ran. From one to one-hundred, and then to two-hundred and three-hundred in a flash, the myriad supply closets they'd searched before coming and going along the way.

The infinity did diminish, however, as they soon found themselves near the alcove of that supply closet; it'd been cordoned off from any use with bollards and a sign that read 'Do not, under any circumstances, open this door', as placed there by Tonks. She had placed a muggle-repelling ward on the door, too.

The room directly across from the closet was similarly accompanied, but they had been placed there by Jeffers and Hendricks.

In an instant, Tonks pushed Harry against the wall next to the bedroom door, the cover of their bodies allowing them to use their wands unbothered by any watching eyes, Tonks' back directly against the CCTV camera. The force of her push drove the wind from Harry's chest.

"There's no magic on the door," said Tonks, her mouth mumbling the words against his neck.

"None on the floor, either," said Harry. He unlocked the door silently. "I can't feel anything coming from the room."

"Neither can I." She brushed her head against the side of his. "Let's go in three, two, one…"

They detached themselves from one another and slowly crept into the darkened room, the windows drawn so as to not allow the sun to creep in.

Harry sent a diagnostic spell at the light switch and the chandelier that hung above. When he found nothing, he flicked the light on to reveal the room properly.

At first appearance, it was immaculate. As untouched as any other unused hotel room. The bed made, the floor clear, the artwork garish though unchanged, every surface unblemished by any touch. The bathroom dry and empty.

It appeared exactly as it should. As Harry and Tonks cast the first of their diagnostic spells, they did not find any magic immediately, either.

Including any evidence that Jeffers had cast the very same spells as he should have done.

Harry glanced to the window, half-expecting to see Alicia's hawk Patronus sail through.

"He's not been here," Tonks declared. "And no one, no one, is that shit of an Auror. It's just not how that works. He's either under the Imperius or he's a dickhead."

Harry nodded. There is no such thing as non-malicious incompetence when your job is to protect the lives of others, after all.

"The only questions now are what is he trying to hide," said Tonks, "and where is he trying to hide it."

The answers to those questions were, thankfully, finite in number. There were few things that could pass through their wards without detection. It would either be of muggle origin or it would be a magical object that itself prevented any magic it contained or released from being detectable.

For the former, Harry and Tonks cast spells to detect explosives. They found nothing. Then, for any metals. They found nothing, save for those that should be there; bathroom taps, the bedframe, the bathroom handrails, the mini-fridge, etc. Then muggle poisons; ricin, mustard gas, cyanide, carbon monoxide. Such spells were comprehensive and still, they found nothing.

With such testing complete, they moved onto concealable magical apparatus. Thankfully, with the difficulty that surrounded the hiding of magic, and with the energy necessary to do so, if the artefact was there, it could not be explosive.

"Any idea of who might be behind all this?" Tonks asked. "You know the possible culprits better than I do."

"No idea," said Harry, as his wand made passes, left and right, over and over throughout the room. Very rarely did such continuous searching reveal any more than their initial assessments, but it relaxed his nerves and it was better than doing nothing. "Everyone I do know has an alibi." He sighed. "But still, my brain keeps thinking it'll be Malfoy. I mean, the poison, this setting? It's got him all over."

Plus, he would be the only person rich enough to control a billionaire and not immediately extort him of all of his wealth.

That was the truest issue of finding the culprit. Someone who valued the death of Sally-Anne and the terror they could wreck with it as of greater value than any they could stand to gain from money. Someone aware of Jeffers' muggle background so as to use the Imperius upon him and then his relative.

"I know," agreed Tonks, her wand moving in the same manner as his. He adored her for those words. Everyone else would dismiss him as childish, or stuck in his ways. But Tonks understood. "You think it could be Rookwood? I know he's in Azkaban, but he did plan a load of the attacks before he was caught."

"He did seem way too comfortable with going back," Harry mused. "But there's only so much he can do remotely. There's not been any news from Azkaban, has there?"

"None," Tonks said, with a strange glint to her eyes. "Still, he's a slippery fucker. The moment you stop expecting it to be him is the moment he does it."

Their continuous magical searching brought forth nothing, to their irritation.

"Finite," Harry said. It was never the case that a spell as obvious as 'Finite' would bring forth anything, but he couldn't not check. "Both Carrows haven't moved either, then. It has to be someone new."

Unfortunately, even as time went on and their meticulous arsenal of detective spells ran dry, the room still offered nothing. No objects charmed invisible. Not even the slightest speck of floo powder, drifting in accidentally in the wind.

Harry was halfway to dismissing their suspicions as paranoia when, out of frustration, he stared at the ceiling, praying to whatever deity that stood on high to just tell them where to look. And, his prayers came answered immediately as the ceiling held a small latch, leading to a loft; a loft that Harry knew that every other bedroom in the hotel did not have.

"Tonks," he said. "Look up." He pointed to the latch. "Our room doesn't have that."

It couldn't lead anywhere naturally as they were on the second floor, after all. The space that it would lead to, should the space be any bigger than three or four inches, would be the third floor, which was impossible as the rooms on that floor had been checked by Alicia and Jake after the poisoning attempt.

"I'll go check it out," said Tonks. "Give me a boost."

Harry nodded. After checking the latch for magic and finding nothing, he pointed his wand at Tonks once again.

"Winguardium Leviosa," he cast, pulling her off of the ground and into the air. He could've conjured a ladder, but this was simpler.

Tonks sailed slowly toward the latch until her hands gripped the wooden board. She pushed against it and the latch gave way, revealing a darkened room that neither Tonks nor Harry could see very far into.

"Lumos," cast Tonks, and her wand tip was alight. And then, that loft was alight too.

It was not a large space, but it was much too large to exist without the use of magic in its origin. The room had bare wooden floorboards and bare wooden walls.

The loft appeared as if someone had shoved a treehouse into the middle of a hotel. Yet still, the room was entirely empty.

"There's something in there," Tonks said. "Has to be."

Without delay, Tonks placed her wand in her mouth so as to maintain the light, gripped the edges of the loft door, and pulled herself in. Her first step was shaky, her mind first proving to itself that the room she was stepping into was a construct and not an illusion.

But, her boot found solid footing, and she was soon pacing around the room. Harry stepped up and stood on the bed, so as to get a better view of things.

"Anything?" he asked, his voice echoing as it carried to her.

"No magic," said Tonks. "Whoever put this here must've done it a while ago; long enough for any residue from the extension charms to have disappeared." She paused. "No muggle weapons either. No metals, no plastics. Nothing—"

Her words ended abruptly with the sound of the air being driven from her chest.

"Tonks!" Harry called. "Are you alright?"

"'M fine!" she said. "I just hit something invisible!"

Harry's eyes widened.

He pointed his wand against the bed. "Depulso!"

Quickly, Harry flew upward, flying through the latch and into the loft to land beside Tonks' then-prone form.

He met her eyes. "I had to see for myself," he said. He rose to his feet and offered Tonks his hand, which she took.

She pointed to a spot in the middle of the room. "It's there," she said, her other hand rubbing away the soreness in her leg. "Fucking hurt too."

Harry pointed his wand to the spot she'd indicated. "Finite."

However, nothing was revealed.

He reached out then, checking to see if, whatever Tonks had walked into, was indeed still there. Thankfully, his hand did indeed find purchase upon the invisible object.

Whatever it was, he soon found, was wrapped in a thin film of a cloak; no doubt what was obscuring it from view. The cloak was wrapped tightly; so tightly that Harry could only pull it one or two inches from the artefact before it was too taut to pull any further.

"It's wrapped in an invisibility cloak," Harry said. "A normal one, I think. It feels like demiguise skin." His brow furrowed. "But, since there's no magic in the room, it's not been enchanted to be resistant against spells so we can get through it."

Tonks pointed her wand to the object Harry held in his hands. "Pull the cloak as far as you can from whatever it's wrapping," she said. "I'm going to cast a cutting charm, but I don't want to find out what happens if I hit this thing with magic."

Harry did as she instructed, managing to pull the demiguise cloak all of two inches. Thankfully, it provided enough of a target for Tonks.

"Diffindo," she whispered, her words sending magic slicing through the demiguise cloak.

The tension in the material in Harry's hands bled away at once, the cloak loosening and unravelling, falling into a lump on the ground and revealing the artefact that it hid.

An artefact Harry had seen before. Just over eight years ago. On a night he'd never forget.

As, stood there, was a vanishing cabinet.

The vanishing cabinet that'd allowed the Death Eaters transit through Hogwarts' wards and enchantments, through all of the castle's protections.

The cabinet that'd allowed them to kill Dumbledore.

It still held the same dull black of his memory; the same designless front. And, as Harry tipped it over in his grip, it still bore the same seal of authenticity, straight from Borgin and Burkes. A seal that only they could place upon it.

Harry had only one thought.

"Draco Malfoy," he said. "It has to be him." He pointed his wand to the floor. "Expecto Patronum Aduntiato." His stag appeared after a moment, still tall and proud after so many years. "To Kingsley. Find Draco Malfoy. Now."

The stag disappeared into the aether, carrying the message.

"And if it isn't him?" Tonks asked. "If someone's setting him up?" She sighed. "I mean, come on. It all seems a bit too on-the-nose to actually be him, don't you think?"

"Draco isn't clever enough to not be that bloody obvious," Harry muttered. Nonetheless, he did, after a moment swallow, in consideration of Tonks' words. "But if it isn't him, whoever it is, has just been found out."

Tonks brushed her hand against the cabinet. "This is as impervious to detection as anything, right?" she asked. "So we've no way of knowing if it's been used?"

The cabinet's power came from the absorption of any latent magic in the air, which threw any readings they'd taken of that room out the window. The World Cup of Duelling could've happened in there, and given two days, there'd be no evidence.

Someone could've easily passed through, resealed the invisibility cloak around the cabinet, and they'd be none the wiser.

Harry shook his head. "Not a clue," he said. "Still nothing else through the wards other than our magic?" Tonks shook her head. He trained his wand at the cabinet. "And we know it's never going to be used again." He closed his eyes. "Portus."

The cabinet glowed and then stilled, transformed into a portkey.

"Portus," Harry repeated. His words sent the vanishing cabinet disappearing from the Hotel. "I've sent that to Kingsley too. He'll put two and two together."

Yet, just as he spoke, Harry felt the pager in his pocket beep.

Once, and then twice.

Harry looked to Tonks. "Shit."

The two jumped from the room at once, landing on the bed in the bedroom below.