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CHAPTER II - ADAGIO

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The Great Hall was crowded and Ron realised that they were back at the Ministry, not even remembering that they had apparated. The mission had been a complete failure; unable to make any moves from the moment he'd spotted Harry, the young Auror knew it was his fault. They had missed their chance because of him. The three members of the Divco had disappeared with Smithers before Ron could think coherently enough to make a decision. Beside him, his teammates were just as shocked as he was. Desmond in particular had launched into a long monologue in which he tried to find a perfectly logical reason for seeing Harry Potter taking their witness away. Olivia, on the other hand, was absolutely furious; silent, she kept her jaw clenched and her gaze set straight ahead. If it had been up to her, she would have stunned them all on the spot, to hell with the consequences.

"What if it was an illusion? Maybe they were imposters…" Cecilia said tentatively.

Her words snapped Ron out of his stupor. He didn't even listen to his young colleague finish her sentence and, leaving his surprised teammates behind, he rushed towards the lifts. The doors were just opening and he slipped inside, jostling those in his path, then frantically pressed the golden button for level two. The journey seemed interminable and he couldn't help but move nervously where he stood, drawing curious looks from some of the employees. Finally, he arrived at his destination and as soon as he could, he jumped out of the cabin and started running towards the Divco. He pushed open the front door and made his way to the reception.

"Patricia!" he called out abruptly to the secretary who was standing behind the reception desk with a small metal box in her hands. "Have you seen Harry and his team?"

She stared at him in surprise, unused to seeing the young man raise his voice like that. "They're in their office, Ronald, why?"

"Did they go out this afternoon? On a mission, or a transfer perhaps?"

"Not that I know of. Harry spent two hours talking to me about his dog and showing me pictures of the animal. The poor boy really needs to enrich his social life if you ask me," she added with a pitying look. "You're his friend, you could do something for him, right?"

The young man didn't answer her, and seeing his troubled expression, she opened her little box and handed it to him. "A biscuit?"

He mechanically took one while mumbling a thank you and then walked quickly to Harry's office. Harry and his team were still there according to Patricia. What did that mean? Someone had taken on their appearance to deal with Smithers? But for what purpose? It didn't make sense. He had to make sure that his friend hadn't moved from his post. Once he was in front of the closed door, he took a deep breath, trying to calm his fast beating heart, then burst into the small room without warning.

There he found Harry and Rosa watching a Mexican telenovela on a small television hidden in one of the office cupboards. Briggs was in the back, his feet crossed on his desk, obviously taking a late afternoon nap. Hearing him enter, Harry turned sharply to the red-haired Auror and looked at him in surprise.

"Ron? What the-"

"Shh!" Rosa whispered, tapping him on the shoulder without taking her eyes off the small screen nor paying attention to Ron.

"I…" Ron began hesitantly. "I thought I left my wallet here this morning, but I must have made a mistake. I'll leave you to it. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

He excused himself, ignoring the suspicious look on Harry's face as he stared at him with furrowed brows, clearly not buying his bogus story, and left the office just as suddenly as he had entered. Accompanied by the sound of ringing phones behind closed doors, he walked down the long corridor to the exit, trying to calm his mind that was bustling with questions. Should he arrest his friend and his teammates? Which of the two groups were really the imposters? Or was this a subterfuge to put the blame on innocent people? The young man did not know what to do; with this confusion he felt a headache coming on.

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Ron finally reached his office where Olivia, Cecilia and Desmond were waiting for him.

"Ron, can you explain?" Liv asked without preamble. "Where did you go like that?"

"What's going on?" Cecilia asked in turn. "You can't decide to go solo, not after the disaster of this afternoon."

The young man nervously ran a hand through his hair and realized that he was still holding the biscuit offered by Patricia between his fingers. He put it down on his desk and dropped into his chair.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry," he apologised in a tired voice. "It's just that when I heard you say that, Cee, I thought your hypothesis was right. They could be imposters... Only…"

"Only what?"

"Harry, Rosa and Paul are in their office and, according to Patricia, they haven't moved all afternoon. But I don't know how to verify that it's really them without attracting suspicion. Rosa seemed really enthralled by her show, and I know she's a huge fan of telenovelas, Harry has already told me…" He paused for a moment and let out a shaky sigh. "Merlin," he continued. "It's Harry! I can't suspect him! I know him, he would never work for a criminal. He wouldn't do such a thing."

"So you really think someone could have used polynectar and impersonated them back there?"

"Ron, I understand that you refuse to believe that your best friend could be in league with a criminal," Olivia intervened. "But we should have stopped them when we had the chance. The whole plan fell apart…" She paused and rubbed her face, on which the fatigue and anger was clear as day. With a sigh of frustration, she stood up and left the office.

"If they were imposters, we could have found out if we had arrested them as planned," Cee added calmly. "The effect of the polyjuice, or whatever method they used, would have ended while they were in custody."

Ron appreciated the calm demeanour of his young colleague, who, even in a crisis situation, was able to keep her cool and often played the part of the mediator between her teammates.

"Apart from Rosa and her love of telenovelas, how can you be sure that it was the real Potters, Lopez and Briggs who stayed at the office?"

"Patricia told me that Harry stayed for two hours talking to her…"

"That doesn't prove anything, Boss," Desmond said suddenly, who had been silent until then. "A modified potion could have longer lasting effects and Vasilyev's organisation is one of the main importers of modified polyjuice into the UK. Or something could have escaped Patricia's notice, she herself may have left the division for a while…"

Ron felt lost, his headache was beginning to prevent him from thinking straight. He just wanted to go home, forget about this fiasco and not think about anything, kiss Hermione and hug Rosie. Elbows on his knees, he took his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair before crossing them behind his head. A silence fell between the three exhausted Aurors. It was broken by the sudden reappearance of Olivia. "They're gone," she said abruptly.

"Who?" Ron asked, lifting his head to look at her.

"Potter and his friends. I wanted to check for myself, but I couldn't find them. They're no longer in the Ministry, there's no trace of them."

"It's five o'clock, they've probably finished their day. They must have gone home…"

"The secretary didn't see them pass. I'm sure they're hiding something," she said. "They sensed they were exposed and ran off."

"It's Harry Potter for Merlin's sake!" Desmond exclaimed. "We can't jump to conclusions."

"We can still try to keep a close eye on them," Cecilia suggested.

The four Aurors all agreed on the next step.

"We have to inform Robards."

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Robards had his back to them, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on the snow-covered mountain landscape outside his office window.

"Are you really sure about what you saw?" he asked after a few minutes of silence, his voice betraying no emotion.

"Without a doubt," Olivia confirmed stiffly. "It was Potter, Briggs and Lopez all right."

"But there must be a logical reason why they were there," Desmond argued timidly. "Maybe it was an undercover operation…"

"There's none going on at the moment, I'd know if there was," said their superior. "What you've just told me must remain strictly confidential. Nothing leaves this office. I don't even want to think about what would happen if there was a leak." He paused. Suddenly he turned and slammed his hand down on his desk. "Harry Bloody Potter, damn it! The Hero of the Wizarding World. With Briggs and Lopez, they're the best team in the Divco. Even Director Hammond personally congratulated them only a month ago!"

Ron exchanged a surprised look with his teammates; he had rarely seen him lose his temper like that.

"We're not going to do anything at the moment, we can't rush things and we need more evidence," Robards continued. "Not to mention that if we intervene now, we'd risk losing the opportunity to find the real moles. I want more surveillance, without drawing their attention. Question their colleagues discreetly. You will report to me daily. We'll get to the bottom of this."

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On his way home that night, Ron decided not to worry Hermione unnecessarily. He apparated to the driveway that led up to the house and took advantage of the mildness of the early evening to walk around a bit and clear his head. The couple lived in an old stone farmhouse in the Wiltshire countryside, not far from Castle Combe, a charming village popular with Muggles. Many Wizards had also settled there and Ron and Hermione had managed to bond in the small magical community, enjoying the simplicity of the relationships with its members as much as the quiet surroundings.

After entering the house, he took off his shoes and hung his bag on the coat hook and headed into the living room. Hermione was there, sitting on the floor, and, with a book in one hand and a small stuffed animal in the other, she was animatedly recounting the adventures of an intrepid Wizard. Opposite her, sitting on a cushion, Rose was listening avidly to the story her mother was telling her. The mere sight made the young man forget for a moment his disastrous day. Without a sound, he leaned against the doorway, crossed his arms and watched the scene.

Rose was growing up a little more every day, sometimes too fast for her parents' taste. She was as boisterous as her father at the same age and had inherited her mother's insatiable curiosity. Hermione finally caught sight of Ron and a smile played on her lips. The girl followed her gaze with curiosity and then her face lit up when she saw her father.

"Daddy!" she cried, getting up and running towards him with her arms outstretched.

Ron grabbed her and pulled her close. She immediately began to tell him about her day, in her small, childlike voice, while he listened intently. The rest of the evening went by quickly. After a shower, Ron went to bed. Hermione was already there and he lay down beside her and held her close.

"Ron, is everything alright?" she asked in a concerned tone. "You've hardly said a word since you got home."

"Hm. It's been a difficult day, an unexpected case… Don't worry."

"Did you get through to Harry about the dinner?"

Merlin, right. The young man's shoulders tensed for a moment as he thought of his friend. He could hardly believe that his conversation with Harry had taken place just this morning.

"Yes," he answered under his breath. "He accepted the invitation. I told him I'd confirm the date later, though."

"Are you really sure you're okay? 'There's something bothering you, I can feel it. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I just want to enjoy this peaceful time with you."

His eyes closed and he pressed his head against her neck. She turned and hugged him tenderly; she knew him well enough to know that if he didn't want to talk, there was no point in questioning him further. Lulled by her quiet breathing and the nightly chirping of crickets through the half-open window, Ron drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

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Over the next few days, a routine was established. Ron and his team perfected their tailing technique and took turns watching Harry, Paul and Rosa's movements, trying not to be noticed. It was one thing to follow an ordinary citizen, but to follow seasoned Aurors was quite another. After a week, however, none of them had been able to observe any abnormal behaviour.

Rosa left her small house in the London suburbs at the same time every morning, after saying goodbye to her spouse on the doorstep. He would leave later, accompanied by their son, whom he dropped off at the nursery before heading to Diagon Alley, to the offices of the Daily Prophet, where he worked as a journalist.

Paul Briggs lived in a flat in Edinburgh city centre and travelled to the Ministry by floo. Almost every evening, he would meet a group of friends at the pub, all of them Highlanders. They would stay there for several hours and then merrily part in the night to go home.

Harry had chosen to settle in Grimmauld Place after the war. With a great deal of magic, and much to Kreacher's dismay, he had managed to renovate the old house and make it more pleasant to live in. Every day, he got up before sunrise and went out for a run, a habit Ron found hard to understand. He would take Keats, his white Swiss shepherd, out for about twenty minutes in the morning before going to work, and then again for an hour or two in the evening.

"Other than that, he doesn't seem to do much else and doesn't hang out with anyone at all," Olivia said, sharing her report. "By eleven o'clock at night, as usual, all the lights are off and there's not a single movement in the house."

"I sometimes wonder if he's not actually eighty years old," Ron commented. "I just ran into him in the Atrium, by the way. He's coming to my place for dinner later this week. I'll be able to get a closer look at him during the evening."

"I sincerely hope we're wrong," Alderson piped in, sitting at his desk. "That they have nothing to do with this case and are simply victims of identity theft."

Ron nodded silently; he could only agree with his words, but he also knew that his team had no room for error. A search had also been launched in an attempt to locate Smithers, but he had indeed disappeared without a trace. The Auror had little doubt as to what had happened to him. Vasilyev was not exactly known for his mercy. Their man undercover at the police station was unable to remember what had happened there; his memories had probably been erased. The only viable lead was the Divco team and their imposters. The question was who was who.

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Exactly two weeks after the botched mission, Harry turned up at Ron and Hermione's house, accompanied by Keats. It was a beautiful June evening and the air smelt of summer. He walked around the house and into a courtyard, the large flat stones on the ground separated by wild grass giving it a messy and mysterious but welcoming look. His friends had set the table outside, the large glass door to the back was open and music was playing from inside the building. Ron was just leaving the house when Keats rushed up to him and enthusiastically greeted him. He crouched down to pet him and heard Harry laughing. He looked up at him.

"You're here already!" he exclaimed. "You're only ten minutes late, that's unusual!"

The red-haired young man hoped that his nonchalant air was convincing. Harry, on the other hand, looked completely relaxed and grinned at him.

"I've been looking forward to seeing you. I've brought dessert, treacle tart," he added, holding out the dish he had in his hands.

"Perfect. Come on, let's put it in the fridge," Ron said, motioning for his friend to follow him inside.

They were in the kitchen when Hermione appeared and her face lit up when she saw Harry.

"Harry!" she said, hugging him enthusiastically. "It's so good to see you!"

"You too Mione! How are you? How's Rosie?"

"I'm very well! So is Rose, she's playing in the playroom. I've finally got a bit more time on my hands since we're finally done with that bloody werewolf law…"

"The one about expanding their inclusion in society, right?"

"That's right! You've no idea how much the opposition tried to sabotage our work. But we didn't let them, and the law was finally passed!"

She continued to tell him about the work until Rose, attracted by the noise, entered the living room. Harry immediately crouched to greet her.

"Rosie! How are you? It's been a long time since we've seen each other, do you remember me? I'm Harry, a friend of your mum and dad."

The girl shyly hid behind her mother's legs and then gave him a big smile. The young man had always been fond of children, and whenever he could, he visited his godson, Teddy Lupin, who lived with his grandmother, Andromeda. They were very close to each other, and it was no secret that Harry had vowed to always be there for the boy so as not to repeat his own childhood.

"Look at that!" he exclaimed admiringly. "How big you are now! Soon, you'll be as big as your daddy!"

Rose let out a burst of laughter and then suddenly stopped when she saw Keats and immediately pointed at him.

"Doggy!" she shouted, running after him into the living room as the adults looked on in amusement.

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The three friends spent the evening catching up, alternating conversations about quidditch, family, each other's work, politics…

"I'm not saying that wizarding society is all rotten," Harry said with a shake of his fork. "I'm just saying that most politicians are crooked and nothing will change as long as they're in power."

"And how would you go about changing the Wizarding World?" Hermione asked sceptically.

"I would… I don't know…" he hesitated before pausing for a few seconds. "And why should I be the one to do it in the first place? I'm ready to take the first step, but you have to admit that it's those who only observe without acting that allow these dishonest people to gain power," he added, his gaze filled with certainty.

"You have always tended to see the world in such a Manichean way. There can't be good guys and bad guys on one side, Harry. The world doesn't work that way."

"My view of the world is much less clear-cut than you think, Mione."

Ron tried to join in the conversation, but he couldn't help but watch Harry, observing every move he made in case he missed something, looking for the slightest slip-up. He felt uncomfortable and guilty for suspecting his friend. Concentrating on his task, he realised that the discussion had suddenly veered towards Harry's social life.

"I have a colleague in the Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures who is young and single. I'm sure you'd get on very well! She's a quidditch fan!"

Ron smiled amusedly; Hermione was playing matchmaker again.

"You know, this really isn't necessary…" Harry sighed with an embarrassed pout.

"You can't stay alone and isolated forever Harry!"

"I'm not alone! I have Keats!" He pointed to the dog that was asleep at his feet and the young woman looked at him reproachfully. "I've got Kreacher!"

"That doesn't count and you know it! When was the last time you had a date?"

"That's none of your business!"

As night fell, the three of them began to clear the table. Suddenly, a telephone rang; Harry was the only one with a mobile phone, "for work" he had explained. He excused himself and walked out into the garden to answer it. Ron could hear bits of discussion.

"... How many? I don't know… Maybe tomorrow…"

The conversation sounded innocent and the red-haired man heard nothing incriminating. His friend was walking back and forth while talking in the garden and the expression on his face was indecipherable in the darkness of the night.

"Where? No… You put them away… Cupboard under the sink…"

Hermione called Ron inside the house. When he came out, Harry had already hung up.

"Work?" he asked uninterestedly.

"Mh, you could say that," Harry replied vaguely, without dwelling on the subject. "I think it's time I went home, it's late already."

Harry wished the couple good night before he and Keats took off. Ron hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary in his behaviour during the evening; Harry had seemed to be the same as ever. Hermione, however, had sensed that something was going on with her companion and she pointed it out to him.

"You've been watching Harry all evening and barely talked to him," she said with a frown, standing in front of the large bathroom mirror. "I'm sure he noticed your strange behaviour too. Won't you tell me what's going on?"

"It's nothing, Mione. It's nothing to do with him, don't worry."

"It's not to do with your investigation from last time, is it? You've been acting weird for the last two weeks."

Hermione had an incomparable sense of observation and deduction, and that was why he loved her, even if tonight he would have gladly done without it.

"Listen," he said, turning to look her in the eye. "I promise I'll talk to you about it when the situation is cleared up. Right now, I can't tell you any more."

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June was drawing to a close when suddenly everything accelerated. Olivia had been informed that one of their sources wanted to meet them. Leah Grey, the wife of a bookie who specialised in betting on Abraxan races, occasionally passed on what she learned through her husband's illegal activity. In return, the Aurors' Office turned a blind eye to the couple's business.

Ron arranged to meet her that same day at a small Muggle restaurant a few blocks from Diagon Alley and he and Desmond walked there despite the heat. Dark clouds were beginning to gather over the city when they finally arrived at the agreed upon place. Inside, the young woman was waiting for them, seated with a menu in her hands. Her leopard-print witch's dress and bleached yellow hair drew curious glances from the few customers present. Accompanied by the pop music playing on the radio, the two Aurors sat down opposite her.

They exchanged a few pleasantries and then ordered; a coffee for Ron, a milkshake for Desmond, a full breakfast for Leah despite the late hour. They then asked her why they had met. While chewing gum loudly, she told them about a conversation she had overheard the day before. Her story went on and on, and Ron felt his attention waver after about ten minutes.

"... And then the other twat showed up with his chick, and Dmitri, he started to play tough, but my Julio, he wouldn't let them have it easy. I swear, all these Russkoffs, they better watch out, they're no match for the family …"

She paused only once, when the waitress placed their orders on the table. She grabbed her plate of pancakes, stuck her gum underneath and doused her food copiously with maple syrup. From what Ron had understood so far, a deal was to take place shortly, was it tomorrow night? She didn't know what kind of deal it was, but she had clearly heard Vasilyev's name. The bookie had acted as a go-between for the Russian sellers and the contacts of the buyer, an Irish businessman. The men who would be responsible for their security on behalf of Vasilyev were also present. The young man was about to ask for more information but was interrupted by the waitress returning with the bill. He reached for his wallet to pay, a photo slipped and fell to the floor. Their witness bent down to pick it up and her eyes suddenly widened.

"Wah, but you're mates with that twat ?!"

Ron didn't understand immediately. He looked at the picture, it had been taken on the day he finished his Auror training. On it, he and Harry were toasting the beginning of a new life. The silence was broken by a wet sucking sound; Desmond was finishing his milkshake, looking at them with a confused look.

""The twat"... The one who was at the bookie's last night? The one who has to provide security for a deal on behalf of Vasilyev? Is that him?" he asked quickly, pointing at Harry in the photo.

"He's older, but yeah, baby, I swear it's him," she replied, one elbow laid over the back of her chair. "Rather handsome guy for a loser, I must say."

Ron felt his heart racing. He was sweating, he felt as if the walls of the restaurant were closing in on him. The uneasy feeling he'd felt that day outside the police station gripped him again with redoubled power.

"The deal...," he began in a trembling voice. "Where? When? Tell me everything you know."

He feverishly took a notebook out of his pocket to take notes. She gave him all the details she could remember, and in return he left her a few galleons on the table.

"Baby, you spoil me too much!" she gleefully said, as he left the restaurant with Desmond.

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Once outside, Ron froze and stood still, absorbing the information he had just received. In his head, the words "deal, Harry, Vasilyev" kept repeating themselves. In the distance, the first rumbles of thunder could be heard; the heavy weather had finally turned to storm.