Thank you very much for reading this story and for your feedback!

A bit of action for this chapter, I hope you'll like it! If so, don't be afraid to leave a review ;)

I don't have a set schedule for updates, as I'm currently rewriting and editing the story but I'll do my best to post often enough!

For those wondering, the titles of the chapters are classical music terms and they give an indication of the pace of the story each time. I could recommend a few songs to listen to while reading for future chapters, if you'd like to.

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CHAPTER III - NOCTURNE

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Ron and Desmond hurried down the corridor towards Robards' office. Olivia and Cecilia joined them on the way and began to bombard them with questions.

"What happened there?"

"What did she want?"

"What did she say to you? Is it about Vasilyev?"

"Or Potter?"

The two men did not answer and the small group arrived at the open door of their superior's office. The latter saw them and, seeing the urgency on the red-haired Auror's face, let them in immediately and motioned for them to sit in the chairs opposite him. Ron exchanged a glance with Desmond, sensing the apprehension of his colleagues who were waiting for his explanation.

"We've just met Leah Grey, one of our regular sources," the young man announced. "She's the wife of a bookmaker who often has contacts with the underworld."

He began to recount the conversation he had had with the woman during their meeting. Once he stopped talking, there was a heavy silence in the room. Robards was the first to break it.

"Your source, can she be trusted?"

"She's never had a chance to disappoint us in the past," Olivia confirmed, who had dealt with her many times. "Her information has always been reliable."

"Tomorrow night, right?"

"That's correct," nodded Ron. "In any case, these are Vasilyev's men, and obviously quite high up in his organisation. If we manage to capture them alive, it could give us the opportunity to bring him down once and for all."

"We'll need a foolproof plan of action," Liv commented, crossing her arms. "This time there's no way they're going to get away."

"Let's summarise," Robards said, turning to their blonde-haired colleague. "Cecilia?"

The latter quickly turned the pages of the notebook on which she had written all the details reported by Ron and Desmond and then cleared her throat.

"A deal is due to take place tomorrow evening at the port of Tilbury, in the container park, Punch area, hangar number five, at eight o'clock. The nature of the goods being traded is unknown." She turned to the next page and continued. "The seller is Dmitri Luzhin, a Georgian wizard. He is one of Vasilyev's sub-lieutenants, we already have a whole file on him. We know that...," she added hesitantly. "We know that Harry Potter, and probably Paul Briggs and Rosa Lopez, will be there to secure the deal on behalf of Vasilyev."

"Do we know how many men will be there?"

"No, we don't. Maybe ten or so. Luzhin's men are almost all wizards, but there are also a few Muggles. They are all extremely dangerous."

"Right, then. We'll need at least three teams of Aurors, including one from the Divco," Robards decided before turning his gaze to Ron. "I'll leave it to you to select them. Choose the ones you trust absolutely, we can't risk alerting a mole."

"Should we tell them who we're going to arrest?" Desmond intervened, his fingers playing nervously with the button on his shirt sleeve.

The five Aurors looked at each other in turn.

"I don't think that's wise, it would only distract them from the task," Ron replied. "If we have to, we'll take care of Harry ourselves when the time comes. The mission of the other teams will be to apprehend Luzhin and his men."

Deep in his heart he hoped it wasn't his friend and that he wouldn't be there the next night.

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With the help of his teammates, Ron chose the teams that would participate in the raid. From the Auror's Office, he selected Williamson's team, a seasoned officer who he and his men knew to be reliable. The Divco team took more time to choose. They finally decided on Terrence Proudfoot's squad. There would be twelve wizards and witches in total, three teams of four each. Everyone was then gathered in the conference room to be briefed on the mission order by Robards himself. The latter concluded the meeting with a reminder.

"And no matter what you see tomorrow night, you must focus on your objective, Dmitri Luzhin and his men. This is of the utmost importance."

There followed the elaboration of their strategy, which lasted well into the night. Once they were satisfied with their plans, the tired Aurors allowed themselves to go home and enjoy a few hours of sleep.

However, when Ron arrived home, he did not go to bed. Despite his tiredness, he seriously doubted that he would be able to sleep. After nervously pacing the semi-darkened living room to try and calm the feeling of anxiety he was experiencing, he sat down on the sofa and clutched his head in his hands. Hermione, who had woken up when she heard him come in, slowly approached him and, without a word, took a seat beside him. She waited a few moments before laying her head on his shoulder.

"Talk to me, Ron," she whispered softly. "Tell me what's going on."

"Have you ever dreaded the answer to a question you asked yourself?" the young man replied, his voice barely higher than a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"Tomorrow night... Tomorrow night we're going on a very important mission, but I'm afraid, Mione." He paused and swallowed, then continued. "I'm afraid of what we're going to see, what's going to happen. I'm afraid of finding out the truth that I'm so desperate to know. If we are right, nothing after this will ever be the same again…"

His words didn't make much sense to the young woman who held him close to her while slowly running her hand through his red hair. She could only offer him her attentive listening and comforting gestures in these moments of doubt. The next morning, as he prepared to leave for the Ministry, Ron gave Hermione a long hug in the kitchen.

"Don't wait up for me tonight," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

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The day went by incredibly slowly and, paradoxically, Ron felt as if he was running out of time. Their squad had taken over the conference room and were finishing their plan in total secrecy. During the morning, the young man asked about Harry's activities; the Divco team had gone into the field and were not due back until later in the afternoon. It was better that way, he didn't want to have to bump into them in the corridor. As the hours ticked, the more apprehension knotted his stomach. He could feel a similar tension in his partners. This time, he had to admit that the pre-mission adrenaline didn't give him the same pleasure as usual.

Soon, it was six o'clock. Gradually, the offices emptied, workers and visitors went home and the corridors of the Ministry became quiet. Only Robards and the Aurors involved in the raid remained. At eleven o'clock, they began to prepare in silence. They helped each other to adjust the dragon skin protectors over their dark uniforms. Then, they applied their stealth, disillusionment and protection spells, and tested their contact spells so that they could communicate if necessary. Once they were all ready, their silent steps led them to the Atrium.

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Together, the Aurors disapparated to reappear in the port of Tilbury. Piles of blue, red and green containers stretched as far as the eye could see. Ron could make out the shadows of the huge ships moored further out on the Thames, the scent of it wafting through the night air. Above his head, the cries of gulls pierced the cloudy sky. Stealthily, and in perfect synchronization, the members of the different teams surrounded the huge hangar they had already located and studied in advance.

The waiting began. The rain began to fall, a sudden and intense downpour. The Aurors did not even have time to cast their waterproofing spells; just as quickly as it had come, the deluge stopped. The smell of wet asphalt filled the air, the pitter patter of water drops added to the noises of the harbour and the distant sounds of the surrounding city. Suddenly, the distinctive sound of a Wizard apparating echoed through the night, followed by several others in succession. An Auror signalled movement, and the first vehicle pulled up and entered the hangar, just ahead of a second that was coming from the opposite direction.

All the players were now in position.

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The Aurors discreetly cast an anti-apparating barrier and approached the hangar. Three guards had positioned themselves outside, they were silently stunned and caught before they could even reach the ground. Part of the squadron entered the building, taking care to hide behind the large containers stored inside. From his position, Ron had a clear view of the scene that was unfolding.

A burly, bald, bearded man, Luzhin, stood in front of two huge chests. In the first, the Auror could make out Muggle firearms. Inside the second were small red vials. The young man knew exactly what they were. Molotov Vials; they could be thrown at a target and, as they shattered, they caused an explosion of varying intensity depending on the concentration of the potion. This was a favourite weapon of wizarding terrorist groups. Two men and a woman stood beside Luzhin.

Opposite him, inspecting a machine gun in his hands, was an older man with greying hair, probably the Irish buyer. Behind him were four guards, plus a fifth man who was leaning against the black SUV parked at the back of the shed. All appeared heavily armed. A little further out, positioned at different corners of the room, Ron spotted Harry, Rosa and Paul. His pulse quickened and sweat beaded on his forehead. All three were dressed the same; cargo trousers, t-shirt and high-top shoes, all in black. They watched the scene impassively and seemed to be on the lookout, their eyes scanning furtively around them.

Ron closed his eyes, inhaled and then exhaled deeply. He suppressed his emotions deep inside and concentrated. The Aurors were standing by. Those who recognised their Divco colleagues gave Ron questioning looks, and he nodded as if to say "Stay focused."

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However, before he could even give the signal for the assault, Ron saw Rosa furtively waving at Harry. He barely had time to realise what was happening when the atmosphere in the room suddenly changed.

"Cops!" one of the Irishman's guards shouted.

Indescribable chaos ensued. The Muggle guards hurriedly drew their weapons and began firing indiscriminately. The Aurors burst into the hangar. While protecting themselves from the stray bullets, they immediately returned fire and many jets of light began to fly, illuminating the room with colour. Ron suddenly found himself facing one of Luzhin's guards. He raised his wand just as a red spell shot towards the young man.

"Protego!" Olivia cried, springing up beside him.

The shield rose around them and effectively blocked the spell. With a grateful smile, Ron thanked her.

"Did you spot Potter?" his colleague asked as she maintained the protective spell.

"He was in the north corner before the assault started," he replied. "But I lost sight of him in the chaos. I'll try to get closer."

"Be careful, okay?"

"You too."

With a final nod, the two team members parted ways. Ron hurried off to find shelter to observe what was going on in relative safety. Luzhin had managed to reach his Land Rover with one of his guards at the wheel. The vehicle sped off into the middle of the battle and nearly ran over several Aurors. The spells cast to try to stop it ricocheted off the body of the vehicle. The buyer was on the ground, along with two of his men, and all were motionless. Shouts rang out from all directions. A spell cast by one of the criminals suddenly caused one of the containers to explode at the top of a pile. Flaming debris landed in the middle of the battlefield. The smell of burning invaded the air and mixed with the scent of blood already present, until it almost completely masked it.

Through the smoke, Ron thought he saw Harry's figure. He rushed out of his hiding spot and jumped over a toppled crate. He landed easily and looked around. Everywhere, the battle was raging, more violent than ever. The young man turned his head, just in time to see Rosa Lopez casting a spell in Desmond's direction. The latter, busy protecting himself from the shards of metal that were falling around him, did not see her approach.

"DESMOND!" Ron shouted desperately as he rushed towards him.

Too late. The spell hit the young recruit in the chest and propelled him against a wall. His body fell back and laid inert on the ground. Only four of Luzhin's wizards guards remained on the battlefield, along with Harry, Rosa and Paul. They were all fighting the Aurors fiercely, casting spell after spell, running, jumping and dodging, inexhaustible and determined. Ron managed to stun one of his opponents. As he caught his breath, a spell grazed his ear. He turned to retaliate just as a shout rang out.

"GET COVER!"

A Molotov vial crashed and shattered only a few feet away from him. The deafening explosion threw him violently to the ground and his head hit the concrete.

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Ron opened his eyes with difficulty. A stabbing pain shot through his skull as soon as he tried to lift his head. Around him the battle continued, but the sounds seemed to be muted, as if he were underwater. His vision was blurred and he felt as if time was slowing down. Something wet was running down his neck. Slowly he turned around and put a hand against the ground. He managed to get to his knees and had to fight the dizzy feeling that came with the movement. The ringing in his ears gradually faded, his vision came back into focus and he raised his head.

Then he saw him, the one he was desperately trying to find in the chaos. A little further ahead, Harry was fighting an Auror. The young man moved with ease and fluidity; watching him fight was an experience in itself. Opposite him, the young woman was struggling to protect herself from his powerful attacks. A spell finally sent her to the ground, and before she could get up, Harry kicked her in the face, throwing her head violently to one side.

The scene paralysed Ron and he felt his blood run cold through his veins. He had seen Harry fight before, many times, but never so viciously. Never against his own teammates. His friend turned around. His black hair was plastered to his forehead with the sweat of exertion and blood smeared across his face. His face was completely closed, his jaw clenched and his green eyes, usually full of life, now cold, already directed at his next target.

With a sudden movement, Ron stood up, ignoring the pain his actions caused. At the same time, Harry turned his head towards him. Their eyes met. A brief flash of surprise crossed Harry's features and then disappeared. Time stopped. For a moment there was just them - friends, brothers, adversaries - breathing hard, fingers clutching their wands, each holding the other's gaze.

"Harry!"

Paul Briggs' voice suddenly rang out and broke the moment. In his hand he held a spoon. A portkey, Ron realized.

"No!" one of the nearby Aurors shouted. "Don't let them get away!"

Rosa ran to Paul's side and put her hand on the spoon. Both of them were staring at Harry, an alarmed expression on their faces. Ron turned his attention back to his best friend. He saw him raise his wand and point it at him, but the black-haired man hesitated for a second, the conflict clear in his eyes. It was only a split second, but it was enough for Olivia to spring to his side and tackle him to the ground with a ferocious scream. At the same time, the portkey activated and Paul and Rosa disappeared.

Ron remained frozen in place, unable to move. He watched helplessly as Olivia and one of their colleagues held Harry down and handcuffed him. The latter offered no resistance and let them do it as they unceremoniously lifted him up. The red-haired Auror then took the time to examine their prisoner's face. From a cut on his eyebrow, a steady stream of blood flowed. During the confrontation he had lost his glasses and his inexpressive green eyes resolutely avoided meeting Ron's.

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Around them, the battle was ending. Most of the criminals laid on the ground and only Luzhin and two of his men had managed to escape, including Paul Briggs and Rosa Lopez. The rest had either been successfully apprehended or killed in battle. Ron let his gaze wander around the hangar. Burning debris littered the floor, the remaining vehicle laid on its side and a section of the building's wall had been annihilated. Then, he saw Cecilia, crouching beside a body and his heart missed a beat. Desmond. He rushed towards them and the young woman raised her head as she heard him arrive, blonde locks escaping from her long braid with the movement.

"How is he?" he asked abruptly. "Is he awake? Do you know what spell hit him?"

"He was simply stunned," his colleague reassured him. "He probably hit his head when he fell, he'll have a bad headache when he wakes up."

With a flick of her wand, she cast a rennervate at the unconscious young man. Moments later, Desmond scrunched his nose and a pained expression appeared on his face. His right hand rose automatically and touched the back of his skull.

"Ow," he moaned, slowly opening his eyelids and then looking at his teammates, confused. "Is it over? What did I miss?"

Ron and Cecilia helped him to sit up and held his arms. They took the opportunity to check that he was not more seriously injured. When they were satisfied that he was doing quite well, they let him be led out by another Auror. Gradually, the hangar emptied. Escorted by Olivia and Terrence Proudfoot, Harry walked past them and Ron followed them with his eyes until they had left his sight. A feeling of deep emptiness came over him suddenly. He covered his eyes with one hand and raised his head to the sky, then let a sob escape his lips. Cecilia, still at his side, gently pressed his shoulder and he put his hand over hers. The two Aurors stayed like that for a few minutes, then Ron pulled himself together. In silence, they went out in the dark night and disapparated.