AN: I'm not gonna lie, I wrote this in a rush on my phone while on break at work, so let me know if there's any typos, mistakes, or things that don't make sense.

-..-

Ginny leaned against the counter of Virago and watched as Hermione nearly paced a hole into the floor of the shop. She had been muttering to herself and chewing on one of her fingernails for nearly a half hour, and Ginny was getting dizzy simply from watching her. Luna was standing beside her humming a song and off in her own world, as usual. No help at all.

When Hermione turned and started her four millionth loop, Ginny asked, "Should we ask her what's wrong?"

Luna looked between the two of them and said, "Not yet. She needs to sort out her thoughts before she can talk to us about it. Once all that's in order, she'll come to us."

Luna was right, of course. She was always right, but that didn't abate Ginny's curiosity. Hermione never got like this anymore, not since they had graduated and left things like OWLs and NEWTs behind them. The only time Ginny had seen her even half this stressed was over things like government patents and such things for her shop, but Ginny thought all that was settled ages ago.

"Do you think it has to do with work?" Ginny tapped her fingers on the counter impatiently and said, "I mean with the shop. She doesn't have some new law to deal with, does she?"

Luna continued humming and ignored her question.

"What about her parents?" Ginny glanced to Luna, her fingers tapping a bit quicker on the counter. "She hasn't mentioned them in ages."

Luna began braiding a section of her hair, her humming now combined with off-key whistling.

Ginny rolled her eyes and then let a sly smile creep onto her lips. "Maybe it's about a certain Slytherin we know?"

"I don't think Blaise has anything to do with this," Luna finally chimed in. "He has his own problems with witches to sort out."

"No, Luna, not Zabini."

Luna finished braiding her hair, rested her head on Ginny's shoulder, and said in a sing-song voice, "Let her sort it out."

Gently resting her head against Luna's, Ginny sighed.

The pair sat in silence and watched Hermione pace the floor, brows furrowed and thumbnail stuck securely between her teeth. Thankfully, they didn't have to wait too long for Hermine to stop pacing and turn quickly to face the two witches. Ginny and Luna both stood up straight, eager to hear what was bugging the witch so much. She had a determined look on her face that was all too familiar to her friends, but it was the undercurrent of panic that commanded their attention.

"I think Harry and Draco are in trouble."

Ginny frowned. "What could the pair of them have possibly gotten into?"

Hermione pursed her lips. It really wasn't her place to tell them what she knew, even if it was mere breadcrumbs of information. Draco's vulnerability in speaking with her about his father, even if it was overshadowed with an apology, meant a great deal to her. She didn't want to betray his trust so quickly.

"If it has to do with an investigation," Luna said to Ginny, "we probably aren't allowed to know the details."

"I barely know anything." Hermione smiled gratefully at Luna. "I'm not privy to the details of the investigation, but I do know it has something to do with the Death Eaters they haven't tracked down yet."

Ginny's expression darkened, and a fierce scowl took over her face. "What're those bastards up to now?"

"Language," Luna scolded her quietly, but Ginny ignored her.

"If they're gallivanting across the countryside chasing after Death Eaters, and I wasn't invited," Ginny muttered darkly, "I'm going to curse Harry into next week."

Luna cocked her head to the side and asked, "Is Harry the gallivanting type? He seems to uncoordinated for such behavior."

"It's just a gut feeling." Hermione frowned, and that poor thumbnail found its way back between her teeth. "Maybe it's nothing."

"When has your gut feeling ever been nothing?" Ginny considered her words carefully, wanting to comfort her friend but not cause unnecessary concern. She added, though the words came out a bit slowly, "Is this concern because you haven't heard from them, or… or is it fear because you've been left in the dark?"

Hermione came over to that counter they were standing behind and leaned against it, her fingers absently tracing a few cracks in the glass. "I just…" She trailed off with a frustrated sigh.

"You should always trust your gut, Hermione," Luna said reassuringly. "It's gotten you through too much for you to ignore it."

Ginny pursed her lips but remained silent. Luna had made a valid point, and she didn't want Hermione to second guess herself.

Hermione nodded and then sighed again, this time sounding completely exhausted. Ginny finally noticed the dark circles under her friend's eyes, and her concern grew even more. "I just feel like something is wrong," Hermione said quietly. "It's the same feeling I got before the basilisk or the dementors or the chess set. I don't think their trip is going well, and I'm worried for them."

Ginny grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. When Hermione looked up at her, she smiled and said, "Then let's go get those boys."

—..—

Draco struggled blindly against his attackers, arms bound behind his back and hood pulled over his face. He felt his chest constrict and his breathing become unsteady the longer he struggled. Lungs burning from his heaving breaths, Draco was about to start yelling for help when the bag was unceremoniously ripped from his head. Blinking quickly against the sudden lighting, Draco attempted to take in his surroundings.

Harry knelt next to him, arms tied behind his back and glasses hanging from one of his ears. The Head Auror looked completely helpless, and Draco would have laughed if he'd had any idea what the hell was going on. He squinted his eyes as they adjusted to the darkness — it was still night, so they hadn't been unconscious for too long which was a relief — and realized they were in an alley between two looming buildings. A dirty alley based on the puddle of muck his knee was currently resting in. Making a mental note to burn his trousers later, he looked ahead and finally noticed the pair of men in front of him.

They were both massive walls of muscle. Standing easily over six feet tall and wearing all black, they were carbon copies of what henchmen should look like. Knowing followers when he saw them, Draco tried to straighten his posture as much as he could and asked, "Are you going to let us sit here all day or tell us who your boss is?"

Neither man moved or answered. It was almost intimidating, except they reminded Draco of Crabbe and Goyle during their Hogwarts years: hulking and brainless.

"Honestly, fellas, this isn't exactly comfortable." Harry shrugged his shoulders and attempted to reposition his glasses so he could see properly. "Can we hurry this up? I've got appointments to keep."

One of the men grunted, "Boss will be back soon."

"Oh, ya hear that, Potter?" Draco asked with fake fear filling his voice. "Their boss will be here to see us. I'm shaking in my mud puddle," he sneered.

Draco's sarcasm was cut off by the sound of footsteps echoing down the alley behind them. Keeping an eye on the goons in front of him, he tried to gauge the size of the man approaching. The heavy footsteps thunk-ed down the pavement towards them, but the weight of the loud steps was caused only by the over-sized, bright yellow boots that stopped a few feet in front of Draco.

The boy in front of them couldn't have been older than twelve. He wore a pink ball cap turned backwards over his shockingly white hair and a black t-shirt that said "You inspire my inner serial killer." Skinny jeans were tucked into offensively bright yellow boots that were clearly several sizes too big for him. The two henchmen on either side of him only drew more attention to how small he was. He smacked his chewing gum and glared his golden eyes at them both with more ferocity than Draco felt they deserved.

"So," the boy said sharply, "you two arse clowns think you can come strollin' into my neighborhood without askin' for permission?" His Irish accent thicker than any Draco had heard. He popped his gum and accepted what Harry could tell was a baseball bat from one of the men next to it. Propping it up on his shoulder, he pointed at Draco. "Speak, blondie, I don't have all day."

"Did no one teach you how to properly speak to your elders?" Draco asked derisively. "Who do you think you are?"

"I'm the boss." The boy popped his chewing gum for emphasis and sneered in a way that was eerily similar to a younger Draco Malfoy. It made Harry cringe and let out a nervous laugh.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Aren't you a little young to be in charge of anything?"

"I'm older 'n you, ye pox."

Harry coughed to hide his laugh. If he hadn't been tied up, he would have enjoyed the fact that a mere child was giving Draco such a hard time. It was like watching him argue with his younger self.

Draco threw Harry a scathing glare. "That still doesn't answer my question," he growled. He was getting damn tired of being talked down to by children today. "Who the bloody hell are you, and why are you holding us here?"

The kid looked anything but intimidated. In truth, he looked bored and a bit offended. "Ye hear that, boys? They don't know who I am?" He looked at the two mountains and laughed. "What a disappointment." He handed off the baseball bat and held out his arms, a showman beginning a circus. "I am Boss Man, boys. The King o' Mischief. The Ruler o' Wales. I," he drawled while striking a dramatic pose, "am Ireland."

Mouth hanging open in shock, Draco choked back his laughter. "Right." He looked to Harry as if to ask if he could believe what they were seeing. Harry was looking at the kid like he'd grown a second head. Looking back at their captors, Draco said, his voice full of condescension, "Well, those are all mouthfuls. Do you have an actual name? Or did mummy not give you one?"

A wide, toothy grin lit up the kid's face. "My name is Caoimhghin Seamus Douherty Aodhagán McGeoghegan. The third. The 'g' is silent."

Draco nearly heard Harry's jaw hit the pavement. Harry whispered, "What 'g'?" At the same time Draco barked, "No it's not."

"It sure is," he nearly crowed triumphantly. "But my friends call me Cevin. With a 'C' of course."

Draco sighed and tried to contain his frustration. This entire situation was so completely out of hand, and he did not have enough energy to entertain a child that had clearly escaped a wing at St. Mungo's. "Alright then, Cevin."

"We aren't friends."

Draco gritted his teeth and ground out, "What do you want with us?"

"Would you look at that? I got ahead of myself. You see, Duncan here," his words were punctuated by a deep thump as he smacked one of the henchman's chest with the back of his hand. "Duncan bet Ryan that you two would cry in the first few minutes o' being abducted. Turns out he was wrong." The second man who Draco assumed was Ryan held out his hand silently and accepted what looked to be a white rabbit tail from Duncan. "And now, Duncan is sad." Duncan held about as much emotion in his face as a brick wall. "So, to make things right, Duncan's going to throw hands with one o' you until he feels better, sound good?"

Draco didn't know what 'throwing hands' was, but he knew he probably wouldn't like it. He needed to get them out of this situation before someone did something they'd regret. Like punching a child.

"Listen!" Harry finally shouted. "We don't want any trouble. We were only in Ireland for a short time to find a girl named Aoibheann. We found her, so we were just leaving. If you let us go, it's back to London for us, and you'll never see us again."

The boy froze, his face becoming completely unreadable. His eyes slowly slid from Harry to Draco then back again. His voice came out hard and icy as he demanded, "What could you possibly want with Aoibheann?"

Harry, not wanting to reveal details of a DMLE case to yet another child, evasively answered, "We just had to ask her some questions."

Cevin tipped his head at the two giants next to him, a frown distorting his features. "What questions?"

Harry and Draco exchanged glances. Evie had hardly seemed like a threat to their case, but this kid was clearly unpredictable. And they didn't exactly know what they were dealing with in the first place. It was probably wise not to tell him anything else. Merlin knew the kind of shit they'd be in with Kingsley after they explained what had happened. They didn't need two security breaches in one day, both under the age of fifteen no less.

"It wasn't anything important." Harry said hesitantly.

The boy tsked quietly and shook his head at them. "Wrong answer."

Draco let out a shout as a black hood was pulled over his head. He braced himself for a blow that never came.

"Cevin," a newcomer shouted from further down the alley. The feminine voice sounded vaguely familiar. "What are you doing?"

"Aw, hell. You have the worst timing, I swear t'mother. What're you doing here?"

"Cleaning up your mess, apparently. What were you thinking?" Her voice came closer, and Draco realized she sounded like Aoibheann. He felt a small speck of hope that the girl might be able to help them.

"They said they had been looking for you," the boy snapped. "That's suspicious!"

Draco could hear her scoff. Hoping she could at least keep their kidnapper busy for a little longer, he began wiggling his wrists to try and get loose enough to reach his wand.

"It isn't suspicious, you dolt! One of your wisps got loose!"

"One o' mine," Cevin shrieked. Draco could tell by his tone that the mere suggestion was offensive to him. "No chance!"

"Yes, one of yours. It was over in England of all places. Why on earth would you send it there?"

"I didn't -"

"Excuse me," Harry said loudly to interrupt them, his voice slightly muffled by his own hood. "Can we please get untied. This is a conversation I would like to be a part of, if you don't mind."

Draco could hear the boy grumbling to himself in a language he didn't recognize. He flinched when he felt hands on his arms, but held still as he felt them begin to untie him. It was about bloody time — his fingers were starting to go numb. The hood was pulled off his head, and Draco stood to his feet while rubbing his sore wrists. Before him stood Cevin and Evie, both with their arms crossed over their chests and glaring fiercely at each other. The similarity was striking. Both children sported white blond hair, bright gold eyes, and matching fierce expressions.

"You had no right, Cevin." Evie wagged a finger in his face despite their distinct height difference. "You can't just go kidnapping people without their permission."

Harry adjusted his glasses properly onto his nose and gave Draco a distressed look. He was the head of the Auror Department, and they had just been kidnapped. By two children. If this story got back to England the Daily Prophet would have a field day. Draco shrugged hopelessly and considered the repercussions of apparating over such a large distance.

Cevin scoffed loudly. "I can do whatever I please, Evie. Besides, they were probably the ones what stole my wisp in the first place."

"They did not," she shouted back. "They were the ones that brought it back!"

Cevin gave them a withering look, as if they were to blame for his current situation. "Seems suspicious."

Evie threw her hands up in exasperation. "Everything seems suspicious to you."

"It's true," Draco interjected. Hopefully he could end the argument and manage to get Harry and himself out of there. "We found the wisp and brought it to Aoibheann. That's why we were looking for her."

Evie gave Cevin a very smug look. "Told you so."

"Fine," he grumbled with a noticeably disappointed look on his face. "They can go. I don't want them here anyway."

Harry sighed with relief. "Thank you. If you'll just take us back to our rooms we'll be on our way."

Cevin's gold eyes lit up with a mischievous glow. "Sorry, no can do, boys. My sister and I have a very important meeting to get to with a very important council that you can't be a part of. Very exclusive and important."

"Cevin," Evie protested while he grabbed her hand.

"Good luck," he crowed as the siblings and henchmen vanished in a soft yellow light.

Draco rubbed his fingers against his temples to try and alleviate his growing headache. "Bloody hell."

Harry was staring at the spot Cevin and the others had just been in, his face stuck in an expression of disbelief. He waved a hand vaguely towards the fading gold light and said, "I don't even… What in Godric's name just happened?"

"I have no idea," Draco said. He looked up and down the alley for any indication of where they might be, but all he could see was dirty cobblestone and bare walls. No street signs, no shops, nothing. "We need to figure out where the fuck we are so we can get home."

"All our luggage is back at the inn," Harry pointed out. "We need to get there first."

Draco scowled. "Any good ideas?"

Harry shrugged and began walking towards the mouth of alley. Draco sighed and followed after him.