"How are you not in Azkaban?" I said with my outside voice, surprised by running right into Cantankerous Nott five minutes after entering the palatial Malfoy tent. The skinny old man had tried to abduct me on at least four separate occasions, and succeeded at half of them.

I was pleased to note that he still seemed to have a bit of a limp where I'd punched him in the hip a few months earlier, when he was heading up the ritual to resurrect Voldemort.

In his sneering voice, which I was much more familiar with when he was casting Unforgivables, he simply said, "While hearsay evidence can place surveillance on my family manor, it cannot, fortunately, see me incarcerated." With the audience mostly being from dark families, he didn't have the nerve to act like he was actually innocent. He was probably just hoping I'd attack him so he could get me arrested.

British magical justice wasn't.

"Got it," I told him, looking down my nose. He was tall, and probably used to looming over others, but he wasn't nearly my height. "Next time, we'll put you down while you're still wearing your plausible deniability outfit so the aurors can peel the mask off like they did your buddies Rookwood, Mulciber, and Avery."

"Talk, talk, talk," he smirked at me.

"Uh-huh," I stepped closer and lowered my voice. "Seems like every time we've gone at each other with remotely even odds, you've run off." I glanced around at the room full of purebloods, noting a few more likely Death Eaters among them. "Feel like they're in your favor right now, or do you want to wait to hex me in the back while I'm leaving like you normally do?"

"Young man," he said, putting up a good front of not being beaten, but taking a half step back regardless, "if you had faced me in earnest, you would remember it."

I tried a gambit, "What's your next trick, anyway? Rookwood's ritual was so simple to work out. You going to try the one with the pile of dead cats? I bet the one with phoenix tears is out. Not like it matters," I gave it a beat and then bluffed, "Since you don't know where any more of the anchors are."

That one landed. I could tell from the way he frowned. He didn't know where the other horcruxes were, right now. Since Rookwood hadn't either, that meant the Death Eaters that had them weren't sharing with their buddies, or they didn't know what they had. And that also meant they hadn't re-summoned the wraith to get answers from the boss himself. They might need one of the horcruxes on hand to even locate the wraith without trying to work out where Quirrell had found him hiding in Albania. They'd certainly needed to use an elaborate ritual involving his living horcruxes and me as his enemy to summon him the previous year.

"Better hurry," I smirked right back at him. "Once we close all the doors for good, you're back to being just a bunch of washed up old racists. If you could have done any of this without Tom Riddle, you would have already."

He looked like he barely held back from throwing a snide retort to save face. I wondered if they were planning to do something to seem relevant still. "Enjoy the quidditch, Dresden," he finally sneered out, stalking off.

"I am so turned on right now," Mathilda informed me over her cheese plate, from where she'd been watching a few steps back.

The entertainment over, the rest of the party was going back to their original conversations. I spotted one of the other "not guilty by reasons of mind control" Death Eaters, who I thought was named Rowle, whispering to Lucius and glancing my way, probably asking why I'd been invited. Honestly, the turnout for bad guys wasn't what I'd expected. Or, at least, we didn't have a good list of wizards that had joined after Voldemort came back. The Malfoy tent (already taking up six of the large plots with its exterior dimensions) was plenty big enough inside that I'd have to get right up into Death Eater faces, since, with the exception of Nott, it was easy to not bump into them if you weren't trying.

Draco walked up. He'd been going a bit easier on the hair gel as he got older, but still kept his platinum blond hair brushed back and short. "Subtle as always, Harry," he smirked.

"You learn more when you put them off balance," I shrugged. "Slytherins are ready for subtle."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he said.

"I hear congrats are in order for getting confirmed as the Black heir," I changed the subject.

"Thank you," he smiled, but added, "I may have a few other cousins with wealth that I could get you to run off a cliff, as well."

"Get me the list. We'll see if it matches the one I have already," I assured him, glancing at some of the other suspected terrorists in the room.

"And, yet, you're so much more likely to arrest them, so nobody really gets the inheritance until they finally pass away in prison," he chided.

I gave him a serious look and explained, "You really don't want to have death on your magic, if you can help it. I can use the exorcism charm on Nott senior over there if you want to have an object lesson on what killing does to your soul."

He nodded somberly, ceding me the point. As much as he liked to put out the whole "dark prince" vibe, he was a good kid, at heart. "Understood."

"Ask him about the house," Mathilda reminded me.

Draco quirked an eyebrow, so I explained, "I have it on good authority that your cousin Regulus stole something that needs to be cleansed before he died, and it may be squirreled away in Black Manor. Moody and I are willing to clean out your pest problems over there if you let us search for it and fix it if we find it." I added, as he thought about it, "And since this is probably one of the things like Ravenclaw's diadem, once we've cleansed it, it might still be a pretty good find for you."

After a few moments' thought, he said, "You have my permission. I'll get you a pass through the wards and tell Kreacher you're welcome. If you could cleanse or dispose of any other cursed items you find, it would be appreciated. I'd like Mad-Eye to testify that I had no knowledge of them and took proper steps as soon as I came into ownership." The kid had made great strides at making deals both parties were happy with since he was a first-year, when he had just tried to bluster and snob his way through negotiations.

"I think we can do that. Thanks, Draco."

That bit of business out of the way, Mathilda moved on, "So. I hear you're in the top box for the match. With the Weasleys…"

"I shall have a lovely time attempting to prevent our fathers from brawling, yes," he drawled.

"Sure," she shrugged, but continued, "I'm just saying. The twins owe me a favor. You should sit next to their block of seats. And I can make sure Ginny sits next to you. And Ron sits far away." She gave it a beat and added, "You know. So you can compare seeker tactics while watching Krum."

Draco snorted, "I'm aware of you Gryffindor witches' plans, you know? And you are aware that I'm contracted to the Parkinsons, with the Greengrasses in place if that falls through?"

"That wasn't a no!" she observed. "I'll set it up."

She wasn't wrong, and the boy did seem to be appreciative of the social engineering. Maybe my female friends' Romeo and Juliet dreams were paying off. They'd been trying to hook Draco up with Ginny Weasley since we'd all gone on vacation the previous summer. I changed the subject again and mentioned, "Seems like we're spared of interfering aunts?"

He nodded. "I, of course, appreciate the reprieve. Maeve has no interest in quidditch. This summer has been fairly bearable. She's distracted about something she's working on, with… other relatives."

"Didn't they get everything they wanted?" Mathilda mused. Maeve and my godmother (Draco's real aunt who he couldn't talk about because of a similar geas as I was under) were part of the leadership of the Winter Court of fae, who had forced several governments into re-signing the Unseelie Accords a few months earlier.

Draco shrugged, "I am neither at liberty to speculate nor capable of understanding their intentions, even if I was." He subtly made the "crazy" gesture by twirling his finger around his ear.

"Hopefully I get left out of it this time," I frowned. "I've got other stuff to work on."

"You're safely graduated and will barely be at the school. What could they possibly do to you this year?" Draco asked.

I could tell, from his smirk, that he knew that he was jinxing the hell out of me.