Trumpeting snores wrenched Harry from his slumber. He pried his crusty eyes open only to whimper and squinch them shut. The world was a blur. A bright, painful blur. He stayed still for a minute, wincing at the pounding in his skull, then braced himself and rose to a sitting position, swaying slightly.

Cracking his eyelids open, he breathed easier when he recognized the dark-green basilisk leather underneath him. He squinted around until he located his glasses and made a grab at them. To his bewilderment, they remained perched atop the arm of the couch as though taunting him.

After several fruitless attempts and an odd feeling of missing something, he switched to his left hand and finally slipped the glasses on. The drawing-room of Grimmauld Place swam into focus. It was a horrid mess, but that wasn't out of the ordinary for a house under the tender care of two bachelors.

Identifying the source of the thunderous snores, he trudged up to an armchair Tony was passed out on. He plucked a nearly empty bottle out of his hands and contemplated it blearily.

"What kind of light wizard drinks dark beer?" he murmured, setting it on the coffee table. "Oi, wake up." He stooped to shake Tony's shoulder, nearly losing his balance in the process.

Tony opened his eyes, then closed them with a hiss. "Hu-Harry?"

He straightened up, wrinkling his nose. "Wakey-wakey, ass-breath."

Tony rubbed the rheum out of his eyes, raised his arms, then froze mid-stretch. "Mate," he said, his eyes widening, "your arm's missing."

Harry snorted. "How out of it can you be?" Lifting his hands, he wiggled his fingers. "See? I'm—holy fuck."

His right arm... wasn't there. He clasped his floppy sleeve, yanked it up. It wasn't there.

Tony got up from the armchair with a groan. "What the hell happened?"

"Shit, no, tell me this isn't happening." He began to hyperventilate as he twisted to stare at the... the stump. Ending shortly below his shoulder, it was covered in healthy skin as though it had been that way for years. "Did I splinch? I can't remember anything! Where's my fucking arm?"

Tony tore through the room, throwing up couch cushions, kicking over armchairs, and peeking into an ugly vase one of Sirius's paramours had gifted him. "It's not here!"

Wrenching his gaze away from his maimed limb, he clicked his tongue. "Summoning Charm, quick!"

"Right." Pale-faced, Tony patted himself down for his wand. "Accio Harry's arm!"

He pivoted around, half expecting to see a limb zooming through the air, then slapped his forehead. "Strength in specifics!"

"Oh yeah—Accio Harry's right arm!"

They both held their breath for a few seconds, their heads swiveling about, before Harry exhaled loudly and collapsed on the couch. Tears stung his eyes.

"I'm a cripple." He wiped his eyes with his palm. His only palm. "I'm a bloody cripple."

Sitting down beside him, Tony patted his shoulder. "Er... hang in there. It might look bad now, but try to, you know, look for the silver lining."

Harry lowered his palm to fix him with a watery glare. "What bloody silver lining?"

Tony furrowed his brows before perking up. "I heard Muggles make these cool bionic arms. Bet jacking off with one would feel like getting a handjob."

Whirling on Tony, he lobbed an impotent punch at his shoulder. "What the hell, man? I lost a limb and that's what you have to say?" He reached into his malletspace for his wand and froze.

Tony raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Cool off. It hasn't sunk in yet, alright? We don't even know what happened."

"I found it," he breathed, regarding the cleanly severed limb in his mind's eye.

Tony blinked. "Found what?"

"I found it, I fucking found it! I've had it inside me all along!" Leaping to his feet, he pumped his arm. His head spun from the sudden motion, and dropping back onto the couch, he dissolved into hysterical laughter.

"For real?" Receiving a jerky nod, Tony sighed in relief. "Damn, don't scare me like that. If that's all the excitement for now, I really need to piss."

Waving him off, Harry tried to calm his racing heart and order his thoughts. Last he recalled, he had gone on a pub crawl with Tony and Cedric to celebrate the latter's Quidditch victory. Then they ran into Draco Malfoy... who ended up joining them.

Huh. Rack his brain as he might, the circumstances of that inconceivable event eluded him. As did everything afterward, for that matter.

He rubbed his forehead. Locating his missing drinking pals—if Malfoy could be called one—would be the fastest way to get answers. Since Sirius was off chasing some veela cheerleader around the continent, there would be no help from that quarter. Typical.

Rising gingerly, he set out to search the house. As his dizziness lessened, his steps grew more assured, and he even began whistling as he traipsed up the stairs, giddy with relief.

Peeking into his bedroom without much expectation, he froze at the sight of Malfoy snuggling his favorite seven-meter body pillow on the floor. He stomped inside, having half a mind to kick the filthy philanderer in the balls, but couldn't resist laughing at the dopey expression on his face.

With an awkward left-hand wave of his wand, he summoned a camera. A refreshed Tony rejoined him as he fumbled with the gadget; it was of wizarding make, and thus unnecessarily fiddly.

"What's up?" Tony glanced through the ajar door, did a double take, and laughed. "Who would've thought—drunk Malfoy has the same tastes as you."

Harry thrust the camera at him. "Here, you do it. I'm owling the pictures to his wife."

Snickering, Tony manipulated the knobs and levers to snap photos from various angles. The instant he was finished, Harry strode over to the sleeping beauty and kicked him in the ribs.

"Get up, ponce."

"Bwuh?" Malfoy opened his eyes, took in the half-naked lamia in his embrace, and recoiled. "Aargh!"

"Some nerve you have, sleeping with another man's waifu in his own bedroom," Harry said sternly.

Malfoy gathered himself into a sitting posture and squinted at him. "Potter? What happened to your arm?" He grimaced. "More importantly, what happened to my head?"

He sighed. "I was hoping you'd tell me. Let's find Cedric."

Leaving Tony to bring Malfoy up to speed, he nipped to the bathroom, then commandeered their assistance to scour the house top to bottom. Unenthused from the start, Malfoy only got more vocal with each floor they failed to discover their last comrade on until Harry capitulated. They trooped down to the kitchen, where Malfoy made a beeline for the sink.

"It's a waste of time," he said, pouring himself a glass of water. "Diggory must've gone home last night."

Harry groaned. "Then we'll have to drop by. God, I hope Cho won't be there."

"Let me try something first," Tony said, drawing his wand. "Accio Cedric's robes!"

There was a muffled crash above, followed by a steadily loudening clatter. Exchanging wide-eyed looks, they rushed out of the kitchen just in time to see a ball of tangled limbs tumble down the staircase. Malfoy drew back with a yelp, Tony performed a complicated twirl that didn't seem to do anything, while Harry snapped of a Cushioning Charm. Unfortunately, his aim was off, and Cedric crumpled on the tiles before them, unmoving.

Malfoy was the first to break the ensuing silence. "Well done, Goldstein, you killed him."

"He should be fine," Tony said in a high-pitched voice. "This is nothing compared to Bludger collisions."

"Er... you alive, mate?" Harry asked, not daring to touch him lest he leave evidence on a corpse.

Cedric twitched, then moaned. "My... everything hurts." He lifted his head to peer at them, then began sorting out his limbs. "Feels like I fell down the stairs."

Harry laughed while Tony pocketed his wand and cleared his throat. "Must've been a bad dream. You're just hungover."

Cedric got up, clutching his head. "That's right... We went out drinking, and—blimey, Harry, where's your arm?"

"Not you too," he grumbled. "Have we all been Obliviated? None of us can remember anything."

"I hate to tell you this, but copious amounts of alcohol will do that to a bloke." Cedric probed the fresh bruise on his forehead and winced. "Take it from me, Obliviation isn't so much a hole in your memory as a... patch. The mind tends to fill in the gaps."

Harry looked at him indignantly. "I never get blackout drunk. Not since the accident."

"If you say so."

Scowling, he opened his mouth, but Tony clapped him on the back and said, "Now now, there's no need to get up in arms about this."

Harry shot him a disbelieving look, but his lips twitched. "True. But I'd give my right arm to find out what happened." He wiggled his stump for emphasis.

"How can you two joke about this?" Cedric asked, looking nauseated. "He's lost a limb!"

Harry chuckled. "Not for long if I can help it. Wash up and meet us at the Floo—we're going to St. Mungo's."

"Wouldn't want this to get out of hand," Tony quipped.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Harry applied his immense intellect to one-upping him. "What disarming wit."

"Er..." Tony tapped his chin. "Don't make me strong-arm—"

"Merlin's beard, you two are like children," Malfoy said, shaking his head. "Can we please get a move on? I could use a potion for my headache."

Harry sent Tony a look that promised it wasn't over before leading the way to the ground floor. The muddy footprints in the foyer would've sent old Filch into hysterics. Gasping, Malfoy overtook him and brandished his wand over dirt-encrusted robes that lay in a heap by the front door.

"Ugh, I can't appear in public like this! I'm handing these over to my house-elves as soon as I get home."

Harry contemplated the less-than-stellar condition of his own outfit, decided that changing one-armed would be a pain, and grabbed a traveling cloak from the closet, draping it over his shoulders to hide the worst of the stains. He brushed conifer needles and other detritus off his front. Hell, what had they gotten up to last night?

"Nice cloak, Potter," Malfoy remarked, breaking his train of thought. Despite his whinging, his burgundy robes were now immaculate, although the effect was ruined by his puffy face and bloodshot eyes. "Gladrags latest, right? I have to admit, you've acquired a measure of taste."

Harry fingered the fabric appreciatively. "It is pretty nice, isn't it?"

"Oh, get a room," Tony said, hovering behind.

Malfoy sniffed. "Plebeians."


To the elderly Mediwitch's credit, she didn't bat an eye when Harry said he needed an arm reattached, and only raised a graying eyebrow when he produced the severed limb out of thin air. Ten minutes later, his arm was spelled back on and immobilized in a sling, which would stay on for a week. Accepting an assortment of potions he was to take, Harry thanked her profusely and left with a spring in his step.

Ducking around a chap clutching a bloody ear in his palm, he descended into the reception area and found the others already waiting for him in a corner, looking markedly more chipper.

"Welcome back to the ranks of the two-armed," Tony said, proffering a vial.

Harry accepted the potion with a grateful nod and chugged down, instantly starting to feel human again.

"Blimey, you weren't kidding about getting it back," Cedric said, smiling. The fading bruise on his forehead shone with a layer of ointment. "You'll have to tell me the whole story someday, but I really ought to go. My wife must be beside herself with worry."

"Send her a note," Harry said. "You're not going anywhere till we figure out who Obliviated us."

"No one did, Potter," Malfoy said. "While you performed whichever Dark ritual that's capable of regrowing a limb in a matter of minutes, Mr. Quidditch Celebrity got a specialist to give us a quick check-up. It's highly unlikely we had any Memory Charms cast on us."

"Unlikely," Harry said. "But not impossible?"

Malfoy sounded almost bored as he replied. "You'd have to hire a Legilimens to know for certain, but even if you do, I'm not letting them poke around in my head."

Harry frowned. "Fair enough. In that case, we're going back to Grimmauld to search for clues."

Cedric's protests fell on deaf ears as Harry dragged him into the Floo with one hand, the others squeezing in after them. He spoke the destination, and they were propelled across the network of grates until being spat out into the pigpen of a drawing-room.

Harry led by example, sorting through empty bottles, snack bags, and greasy plates. Tony and Cedric exchanged a look before halfheartedly imitating him, while Malfoy promptly appropriated the cleanest armchair. Harry managed to ignore him until he started humming and twirling his wand idly.

"Are you helping or what?"

"If I must," Malfoy said. "Dobby!"

A house-elf popped into existence and bowed immediately. "Master Malfoy sir called?"

"Gather all the rubbish and put it on the table over there." Malfoy looked around critically. "Give the place some elbow grease while you're at it—it's disgraceful to see an ancestral home in this state."

"Right away, Master Malfoy!" Dobby zipped off, causing Cedric to dodge with a yelp.

Tony groaned and dumped an armful of rubbish; before it could fall to the floor, it was snatched by Dobby the dervish. "Couldn't you have done this from the start?"

"You didn't ask. I assumed you people enjoyed house-elf work."

"Prick," Tony murmured.

Malfoy sniffed. "I'll pretend not to have heard that. Do recall that I'm graciously lending you my servant."

Harry watched appreciatively as Dobby raised a veritable tornado of grime and dust, snapping his spindly fingers left and right to leave the carpets cleaner than they had been in decades. "Don't suppose he's for sale?"

"Absolutely not." Malfoy drummed his fingers on his knee. "Due to... regrettable circumstances, we were forced to part with one of our servants already. Any more, and they won't be able to keep the manor up to standards."

Dobby's ears whipped forward as he came to a halt. "Anything else needs doing, Master Malfoy?"

Malfoy considered the pile of dirty plates, cutlery, and food scraps on the table. "Might as well search the rest of the house while we sort through this. Oh, and Dobby?"

Dobby bounced on the balls of his tiny feet. "Yes, Master Malfoy?"

"Don't mistake Potter's toys upstairs for trash. He can't help it, having never grown up."

"Harry Potter sir's girl dollies is safe with Dobby, Master Malfoy!" Dobby exclaimed to general laughter. His green eyes met Harry's, and he looked away, fidgeting with the hem of the pillowcase he was wearing.

"How does he know about..." Something tickled at the back of Harry's mind. "Oi, titch, don't I know you from somewhere?"

"That's impossible," Malfoy answered on behalf of the elf, who used the opportunity to scurry out the door. "He doesn't leave the manor, and you and I aren't exactly on visiting terms."

"Odd... I reckon I've seen him before. Even the name sounds familiar."

"Don't be daft," Malfoy said exasperatedly. "They all look the same, and they're all named Nobby and Wonky and stupid things like that. If this is some weird attempt to swindle me out of my best servant, it's not working."

"But I could've sworn..." Harry sighed as Dobby popped in to deposit several half-empty bottles onto the table; the titch did look exactly like those working at Hogwarts. "Guess you're right."

Putting the matter out of his mind, he swept his gaze over the rubbish heaped atop the coffee table. He plucked a potato chip off a greasy plate, inspected it briefly, and popped it into his mouth. Malfoy shuddered theatrically.

Harry made a thoughtful noise. "Okay, so we definitely went to the Leaky Cauldron—I'd recognize Tom's grub anywhere. We could go ask if he remembers us acting odd."

Tony turned over a bottle of cheap Muggle beer in his hands. "Must've dropped by a supermarket too."

Harry spared it a glance. "Nah, that's from our icebox. Sirius is partial to that swill."

Cedric was quiet, gazing at the table morosely as if weighed down by the reminder of yesterday's sins. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he leaned forward to yank a green bottle out of the pile. "Still think we didn't just get plastered and black out, Harry?"

"For the last time, yes. I always end up Apparating everyone else home—"

"Take a look." Cedric turned the bottle so the label faced him.

"Abe's Abyssal Absinthe," Harry read, his heart sinking. "Wasn't that categorized as Class D Non-Tradeable?"

"Precisely," Cedric said, grim-faced. "For causing hallucinations and temporary insanity."

"Where did that come from? It's not something you can buy in a corner shop." Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Malfoy twitch and sink into the armchair. "Anything you want to tell us, Malfoy?"

"I might've... borrowed a bottle from Perkins at the Department of Intoxicating Substances after they confiscated a cache last year." He squirmed under their glares. "It was under lock in my cellar! I don't remember bringing it here."

Cedric sighed and slouched on the couch. "Mystery's solved, then. Can I go home now?"

"It does explain the memory loss," Harry said. "But I still want to know what we got up to afterwards."

"We probably made lots of noise and puked in some back alley," Tony said. "No big deal."

"And my arm just fell off," Harry deadpanned. "Fuck you it's a big deal."

Cedric gave him an incredulous look. "You were making puns about it half an hour ago." He turned to Draco. "What about you, Malfoy? Isn't your wife waiting for you?"

"Oh, don't mind me—this is far too entertaining to miss." His expression turned serious. "Besides, I need to know if I did something that would reflect badly on our family name."

Cedric threw his arms up. "Fine, you win. I'll Floo Cho a note and we can go on a bloody treasure hunt. She was going to murder me anyway."

Harry coughed. "Henpecked." Ced was such a chump for getting married straight out of Hogwarts.

"Leaky first, then?" Tony asked, sounding excited. "I could go for Tom's lunch special."

"I could ask Astoria if she saw me come in last night," Malfoy said, obviously not enthused by the idea.

"No," Harry said, patting himself down absently, "no, it's what happened after we came back here with the absinthe that's important." His head swiveled toward the door. "Malfoy, I hope your elf didn't get to cleaning the foyer."


"This is pointless," Malfoy said as their party tread the path to Hogwarts castle. "Don't get me wrong, Potter, when you said you had an idea, I didn't expect much in the first place. It's just that it turned out even more dim-witted than I thought."

"Shush, Malfoy," Tony said. "Harry's playing detective."

"You pricks wouldn't be speaking to me this way if my wand arm wasn't in a sling," Harry said. "Whatever, you'll understand my brilliance soon enough."

They walked up to the enormous front doors, where Neville was already waiting courtesy of Tony's Patronus message. Little remained of the pudgy boy from their Hogwarts years; the Herbology professor stood tall and wide in the shoulders, and had an air of self-assurance about him.

"Alright, Neville?" Harry said. "Sorry I can't shake your hand."

"Hullo, Harry." Neville eyed the sling. "Doing better than you, it seems—what happened?"

"Just a flesh wound, never mind that now. Brought some company." He jerked his chin at the others.

"Good to see you, Anthony, Cedric—Malfoy." Neville failed to hide his surprise but shook everyone's hand without further comment. "What brings you all here?"

"Herbological emergency." Reaching into his pocket, Harry withdrew a clump of twigs, conifer needles, and leaves he had picked off their clothes and the muddy floor. "Could you identify these? Might've squished them a little on the way, sorry." Squatting down, he spread the spoils atop a flagstone.

Neville crouched for a better look. "Well, this one is definitely meadow foxtail."

"Cool," Harry said, leaning in. "Where does it grow?"

"Er, sort of everywhere, really," Neville said. "It's a common grass."

"Oh." He drew back and tried to ignore Tony's and Malfoy's snickers with dignity. "Is there anything uncommon or magical here?"

Neville bent forward to sift through the plant bits, gradually separating them into neat piles. Harry's tension mounted with each little twig and leaf scrutinized until Neville finally drew up and rubbed his forehead with the back of his palm.

"Not sure if this is the answer you were hoping for, but I don't see anything particularly rare."

"Ah... alright, then." Harry gnawed on his lip in frustration. "Thanks anyway, Neville."

"I'm shocked, I tell you," Malfoy said.

Shooting him a dirty look, Harry sighed. What now?

"Oh—wait, don't move." Neville pinched something off the back of Harry's palm and held it up. It was a tiny compound leaf, or perhaps a fragment of one, covered with mucous hairs. Rubbing it between calloused fingertips, Neville lifted it to his nose for a sniff. "Best I can tell, this is Gobian Gutwort. It's native to Mongolia, but headmistress Phyllida Spore brought it to the Forbidden Forest back in the fifteenth century."

Grinning, Harry turned to Malfoy. "Ha! Who's laughing now?"

"I'm not sure what you're so happy about," Malfoy said. "We just found out that after getting—plastered, I believe was the term—we decided to take a stroll through Britain's most dangerous forest."

"Eh, we made it out intact." He scratched his immobilized arm. "Or at least you guys did."

Tony shrugged. "Might as well investigate."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Cedric said. "What if the thing that took Harry's arm is still lurking there?"

"Then I'll do my best to return the favor," Harry said with a grin. "But I wonder why we went there in the first place. We must've had some pressing reason."

Malfoy frowned. "I hate to say this, but Potter has a point. Whatever took place last night, I want to know it."

Cedric glumly regarded the green treetops swaying in the distance. "Bugger."

"Sounds like you folks made up your minds." Neville stood and dusted his palms off. "Let me grab my coat. It's quite a walk, and evenings get pretty cold around here."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "You're coming with us?"

Neville rolled his eyes. "I don't think you realize how large the forest is. How confident are you about finding the spot Gutwort grows on your own?"

"Point taken."

They hovered by the doors and speculated on what could have possessed them to go to the Forbidden Forest until Neville returned having thrown a cloak over his robes. With him in the lead, they walked down the castle grounds.

"McGonagall was talking about you," Neville told Harry. "Are you going to drop by soon?"

"Sure. This Saturday, maybe." His arm would hopefully heal by then.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Still visiting our alma mater, Potter?"

"Occasionally," he answered without turning his head.

Neville chuckled. "The headmistress always brings out her best tea service. I reckon she still harbors hope of recruiting Harry for the position of the Defense professor. As competent as Blakely is, he's no Harry Potter."

He shuddered. "Teaching snotty brats who can barely tell the right end of their wands. God have mercy."

"Channeling Snape there, mate," Tony quipped.

"I very much doubt old McGonagall's tea is worth the journey," Malfoy said. "What is it you're after, Potter? A scandalous tryst with a student, perhaps?"

"I could swear under Veritaserum that the average age of the women I'm meeting at the castle is north of five centuries." He chuckled at Malfoy's confusion. "I'm not a cradle robber like you. How's Astoria, by the way?"

Though still looking puzzled, Malfoy quickly recovered and stuck his nose up. "My wife is well, thank you for asking."

"If not a student, maybe a professor?" Cedric suggested with a laugh.

"Neville's the only one around my age, and no offense mate, but you're not my type." Harry smiled to himself. "No, I just miss Hogwarts."

Tony snorted, earning a warning look from Harry.

Cedric glanced back at the castle. "I can see what you mean. It does feel nostalgic to come back here."

"Well, you're always welcome," Neville said. "But I've been meaning to ask... There have been complaints about vulgar scribbles on house bulletin boards coinciding with your visits, Harry. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Harry struggled to keep a straight face. "Nope."

"Every house except Ravenclaw."

"Coincidence." He punched Tony, who was shaking with stifled laughter, in the shoulder. "Do you seriously think I'd spend hours staking out the entrances to the common rooms just for some petty amusement?"

Neville shook his head. "You're right, that would be ridiculous. Sorry for asking."

Tony's laughter finally broke through. "You've got no clue how Harry really is, do you?" he choked out. "Let me tell you about his epic feud with a cat..."

Tony regaled Neville with his slanderous tales as they crossed the grounds and entered the forest proper. The temperature fell noticeably under the shade of the trees. Their boisterous group quieted. Whether it was because they had been warned off the Forbidden Forest for years, or because its atmosphere was innately foreboding, it didn't feel like a place to be taken lightly.

Past the sparser outskirts of the forest, the winding path they were filing down all but disappeared, and what started out as a pleasant hike became a wearying slog. The earth was mushy from the summer rains, and in the dips of the path, the mud wouldn't let go of their shoes without a fight. Even Malfoy stopped whinging and saved his breath for ambulation. Neville was the only one who displayed no signs of fatigue, whistling a tune as he led them deeper into the woods.

Tony spoke up, his eyes darting around. "Um, I should've asked earlier, but we're not going near centaur territory, are we?"

"The opposite direction, actually," Neville said over his shoulder.

Tony exhaled. "That's a relief."

Neville glanced at him curiously. "How come? This would go much faster if there were centaur trails around here. The tribe knows me, so they wouldn't mind."

"Problem is, they know us too," Harry said with a sheepish grin. "Kicked our asses back in seventh year, and I don't mean it as a figure of speech. The hoof marks didn't fade for days."

"Weeks, more like," Tony said. "I was too mortified to ask Pomfrey for more butt ointment."

Neville paused and gaped at them. "What did you do?"

"Oh man, where to start." Harry rested his back against a nearby birch. "One day, Hagrid mentioned running into their hunting party, which got us thinking that it would be a terrible waste of our Hogwarts years if we never saw a live centaur. So we wheedled out the location of their camp, nicked some carrots from the kitchens, and set off."

"Why carrots?" Cedric asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Duh. Centaurs love carrots."

"Common knowledge, that," Tony seconded.

"Did either of you even take Care for Magical Creatures?" Receiving two blank looks, Cedric pinched the bridge of his nose and motioned them to go on.

Harry continued, "We stumbled upon their camp while all the men were out hunting. So we showed the kids some magic, chatted with the women, shared the carrots. When the men returned, they, uh, took exception to our presence. Something about their customs." He shuddered. "Picture a herd of furious, hulking, and stark-naked half-horse, half-men charging at you."

Neville appeared fascinated. "No one's seen a female centaur in decades. What were they like?"

He gazed off into space with a mild smile. "Very well-endowed, and hairy all over. You haven't seen bushy armpits until you've seen a centauress."

"Still, a sight worth getting hoofed in the butt for," Tony said, eliciting a nod from Harry.

Malfoy made a face. "You two are degenerates."

Harry straightened up. "And you're a speciesist. Let's get a move on."

Shaking his head, Neville led onward. While taking a breather helped, the forest was getting denser with every step, and bypassing clumps of impenetrable underbrush slowed them further. When they emerged in a small glade, Neville paused to get his bearings while Harry hunched with his hand on a knee to catch his breath.

"How much farther?" Tony asked.

Neville hemmed and hawed. "At this speed, maybe half an hour."

Cedric groaned. "If it was this far, we should've flown."

"What the man said," Malfoy concurred, spelling sticker burrs off his trousers.

"There are no landmarks where we're going, and I wouldn't be able to make out the plants from the air." Neville shrugged sheepishly. "Not to mention, I'm not much of a flier."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Stop complaining, you two. At least you don't have to walk around with your arm in a sling."

"You never told me what happened," Neville said, ducking down to pluck some purplish berry and eat it.

"That's what we're here to find out. The Mediwitch said it was shorn off by something extraordinarily sharp. Not a curse, mind you, or she might not have been able to reattach it."

"Shorn clean off?" Drawing up, Neville looked around warily. "That doesn't sound like any beast from this forest."

He shrugged. "For all we know, it might've happened afterward. We sort of blacked out on booze last night."

"Ah," Neville said delicately, "not something I have much experience with."

"You could come drinking with us sometime," Tony suggested.

Neville glanced at Harry's suspended arm. "I'll pass."

"This is an exception rather than the rule," Harry said defensively. "And I'm still not ruling out Obliviation."

"If you were Obliviated, you wouldn't think you were Obliviated," Cedric said, a little irritably.

"Or maybe I would. I know Occlumency, unlike some."

Cedric scowled at him. "That's a low blow. You can't blame me because they got to me while—"

"Shut your gobs," said a little boy's voice.

Everyone flinched, then pivoted about the clearing. Cedric homed in on a gnarled yew, a dark hollow gaping in its trunk, and edged closer.

"Whatcha starin' at?" said the voice. "Lanky streak of piss."

Cedric jerked away. Harry goggled as an oversized ferret scrabbled out of the hollow and down the trunk. Glancing over his shoulder, he confirmed that Malfoy was still very much human.

The creature's beady eyes peered up at Cedric. "Didn't know they stacked shit that high!"

Harry choked out an incredulous laugh, then materialized the jar of Dittany he had gotten at St. Mungo's and proffered it to Cedric. "Need some salve for that burn?"

Cedric rolled his eyes. "You're a regular comedian." He took a few steps back, pointedly not looking at the ferret-thing.

The ferret scurried to the rest of the group and rose on its hind legs to scrutinize them. "Behold, a troupe of wankery," it squeaked. "Gormless poxy-faced porker, limp-wristed snoot, ratty half-goblin midget, and four-eyes with troll pubes on his head!"

Harry snickered until his brain parsed the entire string of insults. His hand rose to his hair.

"That hit a nerve, you specky muppet?" the creature said. "Empty-skulled, sewer-breathed yob."

"Oi, watch your bloody mouth!" He stomped his foot threateningly.

Puffing up its tail, the ferret scuttled aside. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Dingleberry-sniffing salad tosser."

"Potter, it's only a Jarvey." Malfoy sounded torn between amusement and exasperation. "Ignore it and it'll go away. You don't get mad at an owl for hooting, do you?"

He nodded slowly. "I do, actually, but I see your—"

"Chronic wand-polisher," the Jarvey said, it's glinting eyes focused on Harry. "Kiss my hairy arse."

Tony guffawed. "Can we adopt it?"

"Right, I don't care what it is," Harry snapped, striding toward the infernal beastie. "No one speaks to me that way and gets away with it!"

With a whisk of its bushy tail, the Jarvey scampered into the trees, squeaking imprecations that were lost amid Malfoy's yells to stop and Tony's uproarious laughter. Harry lunged after it, awkwardly swatting branches out of his way and cursing his sling. Catching up, he kicked at the critter, but it scurried underneath a knotted root, and he nearly lost his balance when his foot rebounded off it.

Emerging on the other side, the Jarvey turned its whiskered muzzle. "Googly-eyed twat."

He growled. "Why you little..."

"Wait up!" Neville cried, bumping into his back.

Heedless, Harry leapt over the root and resumed the chase. When the Jarvey darted into untrodden brush, he barreled through, no longer bothering to shield himself from the twigs whipping his face. His wand materialized in his palm as he waited for a clear shot.

He was losing his wind, but the Jarvey remained tauntingly close, egging him on whenever it had a chance. Noticing the shrubs grow sparser, he gave a final push and soon emerged in a clearing. He jabbed his wand at the furry little shit with a triumphant cry.

The Jarvey zigzagged across the leaf-strewn ground as Harry's hexes kicked up gouts of dirt, landing ever closer. Just as he was about to nail it, someone yanked him by the collar, and his curse instead clipped a tree.

"Enough already!" Neville yelled, his face red.

Twisting out of his grip, Harry scanned the clearing. There was no movement save for the gentle sway of the leaves. "Come on! I almost had the little bugger!"

"Merlin's beard, but you're an idiot," Malfoy panted, emerging from the thicket behind with Tony and Cedric in tow. Staring somewhere ahead, he stiffened. "Quick, hold Potter back."

"Why?" Tony asked.

Malfoy didn't face him as he spoke. "Because the Jarvey's up there, and I'm not about to chase him again."

Harry whirled in the direction Malfoy was looking at even as several hands grabbed his robes. The beastie was perched high up in a tree and staring down at them, its muzzle curled in a sneer.

"Now you're buggered, wankers," it said before hopping away along the branches like an overgrown squirrel.

Harry struggled for appearances' sake before relaxing. "I'll get it next time."

Snorting, Cedric slapped his back. "Knock yourself out, so long as you don't involve me."

"Seconded," Malfoy said.

Tony chuckled. "Dunno, watching Harry make an ass out of himself never gets old. Your face looks like it met the business end of a broomstick, by the way."

"You heard the bloody thing! I wasn't about to let it talk shit to me." Harry scowled in the direction it had run off. "What do you suppose it meant there at the end?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "It's just a dumb animal, and you're even dumber for letting it rile you up. Can we please get back on track?" He glanced at Neville. "We can get back on track, right?"

"Shouldn't a problem," Neville said, eyeing the moss on the tree trunks. "Harry didn't cover much ground."

"Only because I'm injured," he said on principle.

"You were moving fairly quickly despite that," Neville allowed.

Tony snorted. "Don't humor him."

Getting his bearings, Neville set off, confidently weaving through the trees. Silence fell as they saved their breath. The welts on Harry's face stung, but he wasn't about to risk a left-handed healing charm, and his pride wouldn't let him ask for help. Wiping the sweat off his brow with his sleeve, he struggled to keep up.

For better or worse, Neville's pace quickly dropped off, and he began swiveling his head and frowning. After a quarter-hour of hardly any progress, he abruptly stopped and faced them.

"I don't understand... We should've arrived at a stream by now."

"I thought you were supposed to be an expert woodsman, Longbottom," Malfoy drawled. "Are you saying we're lost?"

"Perhaps," Neville said diplomatically. "I'm just not sure how. I gathered fluxweed around here two years ago. The forest can't have changed that much."

Cedric sighed tiredly. "Now what?"

Neville took out his wand and cast the Four-Point Spell. "Let's backtrack a little," he said, peering at the impromptu compass. "Then we'll head east again."

Tension filled the air. Everyone kept glancing at their guide as they walked. Neville ignored any semblance of a trail, going in one direction, doing an about-face, then turning again, the furrows in his brow deepening.

Harry's foot snagged on something, and the forest floor rushed up to meet his face. He thrust his hand out to catch himself, but his sole arm buckled on impact, and he face-planted into soggy moss.

"Bollocks!" Rising to his knees, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Malfoy smirked. "Watch where you're going next time."

Harry habitually tried, and failed, to flip him the bird with his right hand while Cedric and Tony came up to lift him by his armpits. Tony scoured the mud off his front with a muttered Tergeo. He nodded gratefully before scowling at the upraised root that had tripped him.

"What the..." Walking up to it, he gave it a good kick. "I swear this wasn't there a second ago!"

Neville stared at him. "You're bound to find tree roots in a forest, Harry. Don't start again, it's not funny anymore."

Great, Neville bloody Longbottom thought he could chastise him. "It must've tripped me on purpose! That's it, I'm burning this fucker down." He drew his wand.

Neville groaned and turned to address Tony. "I'm beginning to see what you meant."

"Incen—whoa!" A low-hanging branch swung as if propelled by the wind, knocking the wand out of his hand. He squatted down to pick it up. "You guys see that?"

"See what, Potter?" Malfoy asked. "Stop fooling around."

"No, wait, something's off." Cedric had drawn his wand too and was inching backward. "That elm just got closer to us."

"Nonsense, trees don't—argh!"

They turned at the scream to find a tree crawl toward Malfoy, its roots creaking as they scrabbled across the ground. And it wasn't just the one: the gaps between the surrounding trunks shrunk rapidly, the canopies joining to blot out the sun. For a moment, Harry wasn't certain his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.

"I'm sure you four can handle... whatever this is," Malfoy said, his eyes wide. "Owl me if you survive." He turned on the spot, only to slip and fall; thick roots broke out of the soil and snaked around his wrists, holding him down.

"Heh, kinky," Harry said, sidling away from a poplar that appeared intent on giving him a hug.

Malfoy struggled furiously, but his efforts were in vain. "Hurry up and free me, nitwit!"

"Diffindo!" A pinkish jet plowed into a patch of moss an inch from Malfoy's neck. "Sorry, left hand."

The color drained from Malfoy's face. "Y-you don't have to help, Potter! Goldstein, Diggory? Oh, hell—Longbottom?" His voice grew desperate as more roots coiled around his limbs.

"A little busy," Tony snapped as he transfigured a particularly agile sapling into a coatrack.

Neville bent down and tugged at the roots with a grunt. "Why does it sound like I'm your last resort?"

"Because you set your examiner on fire during Defense practical!" With Neville's help, Malfoy ripped his wand arm free and aimed at his other wrist, but his triumph was cut short when roots twined around his torso and pulled him to the ground.

Abandoning his attempts to help Malfoy, Neville straightened and pointed his wand at the encroaching trees. The four formed a circle with their backs to their downed comrade, their spells whittling down branches and scorching bark. Fire did keep the forest at bay, but the wet wood smoke was making it impossible to breathe, and every smoldering tree retreated to be replaced by two others, pressing inexorably closer.

"Fiendfyre," Harry said, feeling his wand thrum. "It's the only way."

"Can you cast it? Incendio!" A cone of fire burst from Cedric's wand, arresting the trees' advance until he broke into a coughing fit and worked a Bubble-Head Charm.

"You bet." Harry's Cutters made short work of some needled branches, scattering woodchips and filling the air with the smell of sap. "But controlling it with my..."

Malfoy's scream came from below. "Just do it!"

Lips curling into a feral grin, Harry brandished his wand, but another's hand knocked it out of his grasp. As he stared in stunned disbelief, green vines sprang from the moss and snatched it.

He whirled to his left. "What the flying fuck, Neville?"

"You were about to burn us to a crisp! Aren't Ravenclaws supposed to have a brain?"

He gripped Neville's lapels with his sole functional hand. "Aren't Gryffindors supposed to have some fucking balls?"

Neville opened his mouth before his eyes widened. Glancing over his shoulder, Harry gasped at the huge tangle of roots surging their way. He stumbled back against Malfoy, eliciting a muffled yell, and the roots struck, binding him before he could fall. His struggles were for naught, and he was quickly wrapped up to his neck. Judging by the screams coming from the right and left of him, the others found themselves in much the same position.

The forest stilled, their yells and curses ringing in the abrupt silence. Then the rustling came again, but only from one direction. Harry craned his neck, the roots grazing his skin. The trees that way creaked and swayed as they parted, forming a gallery. Through the gap between their canopies, the rays of the afternoon sun fell onto a female figure. His breath caught in his throat.

"Neville," he whispered, not taking his gaze away from the vision, "thanks for stopping me."

The woman stood tall and curvaceous, unburdened by clothes and proud in her posture. Her skin was honey-toned, and her waist-length hair vibrant green and interwoven with blossoms. The points of her ears peeked out from her tangled locks. As she stalked toward them, spellbinding in her beauty, flowers sprouted wherever her bare feet touched the ground.

"Boorish humans! How dare you disturb the peace of the forest?" Her voice rang in Harry's skull as if reinforced by a charm. "How dare you desecrate it with your foul magic?"

Green energy crackled over her hair and gleamed in the irises of her canted eyes. Harry trembled, ducking his head in shame and terror, but as his descending gaze skimmed over her curves, something niggled at the back of his mind. Paralyzing fear wasn't a normal reaction when faced with a sight like this, was it? With a shuddering exhalation, he focused on his Occlumency.

"You will perish for your transgressions," she continued, not nearly as terrifying. Her eyes no longer glowed, and her hair appeared almost ordinary save for its color. Harry confirmed that the carpet matched the drapes and grinned widely, causing her gaze to stray his way. "Unless you swear—bwuh?" Surprise flashed over her face, and she coughed noisily.

"Want some water?" he asked conversationally. As Tony twisted to give him an incredulous stare, he attempted a shrug. "Just trying to be polite."

Raising a palm, she cleared her throat. "I was merely surprised," she said in a slightly hoarse, but pleasant voice. She peered in Harry's direction. "I can hardly believe my eyes. To think I would meet the great—"

Harry flashed his best smile and inclined his head. "Harry Potter, at your service."

"—Neville of the Longbottoms!" Dashing past Harry without so much as a second glance, she bowed to Neville. "I am so sorry for ensnaring you, O wise druid. May I address you as Sir Neville? I am not very familiar with human customs..."

"That's fine," Neville said dazedly.

The roots around them loosened and began wriggling back into the ground. Harry stooped to retrieve his wand and wiped it on his cloak.

The woman wrung her hands. "I hope you can forgive my rudeness—I never thought someone of your stature would grace me with his presence. It is thanks to you blessing the forest that it is flourishing like it hasn't in a century."

"I only performed some traditional rites..." Blinking, Neville looked her over. "Blimey, you're a dryad, aren't you?"

"But of course! D-do I look strange? I assumed my appearance was typical for my kind, but I only have my sister to compare myself to." She blushed and fidgeted under Neville's astonished gaze. "Look at me, I forgot to brush my hair... and I hurried here before taking a dip in the spring, you must think me a fright..."

"Not at all! You're very, um, beautiful." Neville ducked his head sheepishly before his eyes widened and he jerked it back up.

A smile bloomed on the dryad's face, and she bounced in place, which had a very interesting effect on her breasts. "Thank you, Sir Neville. Would you like to come inside? M-my tree, I mean! Oh Hamadryas, I'm babbling..."

Neville's eyes bugged out. "See inside a genuine dryad's tree? I'd love to!"

"Follow me, then!" Giggling happily, she took his hand with both of hers and dragged him toward an ancient oak. The lesser trees crept away to form a clearing around it.

"Now that's a majestic specimen," Neville said, admiring the oak. "Wide canopy, healthy foliage, strong roots..."

The dryad's blush deepened. "You're such a sweet-talker. Come, please!" With a swish of green hair, she dived into the bark, pulling Neville inside.

Harry and Tony exchanged stupefied glances. All was silent save for the soughing of the wind. With the trees back to their normal immobile selves, only the scorches on their trunks and the whiff of smoke in the air reminded of the desperate battle that had taken place minutes before.

"Bet he stamens her pistil," Harry said.

Tony snickered. "Nice."

"Don't you know anything?" Malfoy said darkly. "These creatures will suck you dry—"

"Double nice."

"Literally suck you dry and use your corpse as fertilizer," Malfoy finished.

"You sure these aren't tales they tell boys to scare them off wandering into forests?" Harry asked.

"Everyone knows that's what dryads do!" Malfoy looked away. "Having said that... there's been no contact with them for centuries, so it is hearsay."

"Hopefully that's all it is, but what if he never comes out?" Cedric knocked on the oak. "Should we try cutting it open?"

Tony shook his head. "That could hurt them both. And be rather rude, at that."

"I suddenly find Hogwarts education sorely lacking," Harry said, contemplating the tree. "If there was a course on sexy wood nymphs, I'd definitely have paid more attention in class. Anyway, unless you gents have any bright ideas, I guess all we can do is wait."

Malfoy nodded. "Longbottom better have the presence of mind to ask that creature if she saw us bumbling about last night before she sinks her claws into him."

Tony and Cedric plunked down on a fallen log, while Harry slouched against a tree nearby. Malfoy roamed the clearing, giving the oak a wide berth as he inspected the ground with a critical eye. Settling on a drier spot, he conjured a blanket and plopped onto it with a groan.

Tony snorted. "You're acting like you ran a marathon."

"Plodding through a forest does not suit a proper wizard," Malfoy retorted. "More importantly, Potter..."

"Yeah?"

"Were you serious about Fiendfyre? Didn't think you had it in you."

He grinned. "Your lackey Crabbe taught me for a fiver back in our seventh year. Don't look at me that way, Ced, I had it under control."

Malfoy grimaced. "That bloody pyromaniac could never be bothered to learn a spell unless it set things aflame."

"You're aware it's nearly impossible to suppress once released, right?" Cedric said. "You could've killed us all."

"Psh, that's just what they tell kids to keep them from learning the really cool spells. It only took me four tries and an acre of grassland." Harry tilted his head thoughtfully. "Although, to be fair, I never cast it with my left hand."

"Thank god Neville stopped you," Tony said. "Reckon we owe him life debts?"

As Harry grumbled under his breath about their lack of faith, the discussion turned to life debts. He took an enchanted canteen out of his malletspace and drank his fill, purposely not sharing, but his petty revenge failed when the others just conjured themselves water without asking him to.

After a minute of listening to the debate around him, he felt nature's call and ducked behind the largest tree in the vicinity—which happened to be the oak—to relieve himself. Whistling, he returned only to be met with stony stares.

He raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"Is that how you solve all your problems?" Cedric asked exasperatedly.

"What are you on about? I just had to take a leak."

"Didn't it occur to you that antagonizing a dryad where she is at her most powerful might be a bad idea? You better hope she didn't notice, or..." Malfoy trailed off as the oak's branches trembled, and springing up from the blanket, he strategically placed himself behind Tony and Cedric.

The dryad stepped out, wrapped in an ethereal green mantle that appeared to be more magic than fabric. Her hair was tousled and her cheeks glowed. She turned and beamed as Neville emerged holding her hand and grinning like a loon.

"I'm alright, guys." Neville adjusted his disheveled robes without success, their buttons done up in the wrong holes. "Sylvia's very, ah, hospitable."

"Sylvia?" Cedric mouthed.

"I see you're wearing a... something now." Harry hoped he hadn't sounded too disappointed.

She fingered the delicate fabric. "Neville said humans might find my—my beauty distracting." She gave the man in question an amorous glance. "He also told me of your predicament."

Tony perked up. "Do you know if we came here yesterday?"

Her expression became grave. "I do not. What I do know is that there was an outburst of magic the likes I've never felt, and something utterly foul entered the forest."

A hush fell over the men at the sudden solemnity of her tone. Sylvia approached them in turn, leaning close to peer into their eyes. Tony and Cedric were practically passed over, but she gazed at Malfoy for quite some time, and at Harry for even longer. Her piercing green eyes were impossible to look away from. It wasn't Legilimency, yet it felt as though his very soul was being scrutinized.

"Remnants of a foul taint cling to you," she declared, causing Harry to sniff his sleeve, "yet what your involvement is, I cannot say. Seek its origins and learn what transpired; I don't dare venture there myself." She indicated the direction with her hand. "Cross a brook and leave an oaken grove to your right. Go with confidence, I shan't lead you astray as before."

He glanced at the others, who looked just as bewildered as he felt, before taking it upon himself to answer. "Thank you. Coming, Neville?"

Neville's gaze alternated between him and Sylvia. "I, er..."

She was at Neville's side in an instant. "You will stay for a while longer, won't you, Neville?" Pouting, she pressed her breasts against his arm.

Neville tugged at his collar, blushing. "If you insist. Sorry, guys, this is an, uh, unique educational opportunity—" His words were cut off when Sylvia yanked him into her tree once more.

"Lucky bastard." Harry stared glumly at the oak. If only he'd managed to ask the dryad to introduce him to that sister of hers before she disappeared.

As if in response to his wish, Sylvia's upper body emerged through the bark, and she beckoned him over. He approached, inhaling the scent of the blossoms in her hair and smiling broadly.

"Take this seed." She passed him a fat acorn. "It is imbued with the power of the forest itself. Give it moisture, and it will grow as swiftly as an Occamy out of its cave, devouring everything around for nourishment."

He blinked. "Thanks?"

"I grant you this boon because you are a friend of Neville's," she said in lieu of explanation. "Now, farewell. I mustn't keep him waiting." With a giggle that echoed in the clearing, she shrank back into her tree.

Harry turned the acorn over, shuddered at the morbid image that came to mind—this was closer to what Malfoy had prattled about—and stowed it in his malletspace.


"This is the weirdest day of my life," Cedric said as they took turns jumping over a burbling brook. "I've reached my quota. Whatever we find in the end will be boring and mundane."

Harry looked at him with pity. "Not even close for me. Also, don't jinx it."

Their progress was less assured without a guide, but the dryad's directions proved accurate so far. After they crossed the brook and skirted an oak grove, the ground started getting drier and hillier. Deciduous trees gradually relinquished their place to conifers, and the smell of sun-warmed sap filled the air.

Exhausted from battling the rugged terrain, they started up the highest hill thus far, puffing (Malfoy) and cursing (Harry) with every labored step. Tony and Cedric climbed to the top first and halted in their tracks. Once Harry caught up and peeked over the crest, he did likewise.

The hill sloped down steeply until it met the border of a vast, shallow crater. Its blackened bowl was devoid of trees—devoid of any greenery—marring the otherwise unspoiled woods like a grotesque scab. Some of the cracks in the scorched ground were still emitting smoke.

Catching up at last, Malfoy did a double take. "What in blazes happened here?"

Harry tore his eyes away from the crater. "Beats me. This ring any bells for you?"

Tony's brows knit. "Not at all, but it's definitely suspicious. Let's take a closer look."

Cedric swallowed. "I have a bad feeling about this. Wands out, do you reckon?"

Harry resisted the urge to make a crude joke. "Good call."

Straining their eyes and ears, they descended toward the crater. Their breaths were loud in the eerie silence that Harry realized only now had been accompanying them for a while. No birdsong, no humming of insects. The scar where his arm was reattached itched, but rather than scratch it, he tightened his grip on his wand. While he still couldn't remember anything, something about this place gave him the creeps.

Skidding down the crumbling slope of the crater, they proceeded warily across the blackened earth. The bowl was almost perfectly circular, with slight grooves extending from its middle toward the edges.

Malfoy sniffed. "Do you smell that?"

"Wasn't me," Harry murmured, wrinkling his nose at the stench of rotten eggs.

"It's brimstone, you nincompoop. Have you paid any attention in Potions?"

"Alright, smartass, so what does that tell us?" He snorted when Malfoy pursed his lips and looked away.

"I don't suppose you decided to practice your Fiendfyre last night?" Cedric asked, his face pale.

Harry scuffed the black ashes with his shoe, then stomped the hardened slag underneath. Something crunched. Squatting down, he dug through the ashes with his wand.

"Looks like chunks of glassed sand. Never seen Fiendfyre do that."

Tony's head whipped toward the hill opposite the one they had come from. "Did you just hear something?"

Everyone fell silent, tracing the trees across the crater with their wands. Harry couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. He closed his eyes, tuning out the acrid smell in his nostrils and the stinging of sweat in his scratches.

His breath evened out, then hitched as the stench of sulfur intensified tenfold. The shock of realizing it wasn't his nose he was sensing it with caused his focus to waver, and before he could lose it entirely, he cast his awareness outward. The noxious magic steeping the crater made him gag, but not before he sensed the presences burning bright at its edge.

His eyes flew open to scan the boundary of the trees. A pebble rolled down the ashy slope; the air above it shimmered ever so slightly.

"Disillusionment Charm," he whispered. "Not sure how many..."

Malfoy lifted his wand. "Homenum—"

A gravelly voice echoed over the crater. "Cease your spellcasting and lay down your wands!"

Harry flinched, looking around for the source. A short ways ahead, a large balding man appeared out of thin air holding a wand to his throat. More people in red robes shimmered into view in a semicircle at the crater's border and marched inward with wands extended. Harry was midway through the motion for a shield when he did a double take; those were Auror uniforms.

"Drop your wands! This is your last warning!" the baldie shouted.

Harry hesitated a second too long, and a Disarming Charm coming from his blind spot made the choice for him. Swearing, he watched his wand sail off toward someone's grubby hand.

"It's Gawain Robards himself," Malfoy hissed, having tossed his wand to the ground almost immediately. "Why is he here?"

"Who?" Harry asked blankly.

"The Head Auror, you dolt," Tony said out of the corner of his mouth.

"Keep your hands where we can see them," Robards ordered, approaching. His underlings surrounded them, and two tense wizards ran their wands over their bodies while the others kept them in their sights. Too stunned to protest, Harry held up his left hand and allowed himself to be searched.

"Mr. Robards, it's me, Malfoy," Draco said urgently. "What's going on?"

If the Head Auror appeared taken aback when his stern gaze swept over Malfoy, it was nothing compared to the way he goggled once he recognized Harry.

"Galloping gargoyles, not Harry Potter?" As whispers broke out among the Aurors, Robards harrumphed and assumed a stony mask. "As of this moment, you four are under arrest for practicing demonology."