"Holy shit," McLaggen says as they pass through the doorway that leads to the Cooler. "This is incredible." Pansy shrugs.
"We have to keep the Reliquary safe," she says.
"Until you sent him galavanting off to Europe."
"Quite." She walks down the stairs and sits down at the table in the middle of the room. McLaggen follows at a slower pace and sits down at the seat next to her. "So what were these things you wanted to show me?" she asks. McLaggen nods once and reaches into his bag. He pulls out a sheaf of papers and puts it down. Pansy hesitates for a moment and then reaches out to spread them across the table.
"This is a map," McLaggen says, pulling one piece of paper over in front of them. "On it I have noted where Potter's new house is and also where I think there have been suspicious deaths. I am treating some of these as suspicious simply due to their location, because it seems to be too much of a coincidence for them all to have been within this five street area." Pansy stares at the map. McLaggen has made marks along the streets in question, some of which are in different colors.
"What do the colors mean?" she asks.
"The red marks are mysterious deaths. The purple marks are mysterious deaths where the house has then been sold to a member of the wizarding community." He points to Harry's house and Pansy sees that it is indeed purple. "The blue marks are for houses that are on the market, at a below market price, but haven't been bought by anyone in the Muggle community despite the fact that any and all available properties seem to be snapped up as soon as they go on the market. It makes me think the agents are holding the properties until a particular buyer comes along."
"Have you talked to any agents about this?" Pansy asks. McLaggen shakes his head.
"Haven't had the time. I can't jolly well use work hours for this investigation."
"Then what are we doing now?" Pansy asks.
"It's my day off." Pansy turns to look at him, eyebrows raised. "What?" he asks, suddenly defensive.
"Nothing," she says quickly. "I'm surprised at your dedication."
"We took an oath to protect people, Parkinson. I intend to do that."
"This just seems above and beyond, and I hadn't expected that from you. I'm glad to be proven wrong." He pouts at her for a moment longer, his arms crossed against his chest. She sighs. "Did you want to try talking with these real estate agents today?" she asks. "I'm sure I can beg the rest of the day off at the bookstore."
"Really?" McLaggen asks. "You would be ok doing that?"
"The bookstore isn't my real job. This is."
"Of course." He nods once. "Before we go, I want to go through the rest of this." He gestures to the papers spread across the table. Pansy puts the map to the side and pulls over another paper and discovers it is a full file. She flips through the pages and her eyes flick across the words there. It is the report from the night Harry and Draco were taken in for questioning. Unbidden, the words from Draco's interview jump out at her.
McLaggen: Oh that's cute. Do you love him?
Malfoy: Not that it's any of your business, but yes, I do.
Not for the first time, she wonders at the decision to send the pair of them into the field on an isolated mission. The timing seems... strange. Particularly as she looks more closely at the papers and an idea starts to form in her head. She pulls the map that Cormac showed her closer to her and stares at it.
McLaggen starts to say something, but she shushes him with a wave of her hand. She thinks she might be on to something. The distribution of the houses. It's not random. It can't be. The houses are so close together. And they're so close to Diagon Alley… But they need to confirm with the real estate agents whether or not they're holding properties for a certain buyer.
"Ok," she says finally. "I am going to go to my 'boss'," and here she uses air quotes. "And tell him that I'm under the weather. Then we're going to every single real estate agent on this map."
"I have actually put them helpfully on a list," McLaggen says. He searches through the pile of papers and pulls one out.
"Even better," Pansy says. "I'll be right back." She stands up abruptly and hurries out of the Cooler. She is a little concerned about leaving McLaggen in there alone, but how much damage could he really do?
She walks as fast as she can down Diagon Alley without turning heads and then walks straight back into Big Dick's office once she reaches Flourish and Blotts. He is partway through eating a ploughman's lunch and she walks in just as he is lifting a piece of cheese to his mouth. He puts it down sadly.
"What can I do for you, Miss Parkinson?" he asks. Pansy puts on a sad face.
"I'm so sorry, Richard," she says. She calls him Richard not out of respect, but because she knows that he hates the nickname that the rest of the employees have bestowed on him and she wants to butter him up. "I'm just not feeling well today."
"Oh? How unfortunate," Big Dick says.
"I think I need to take the rest of the day off." She clutches her midriff. "You know," she whispers conspiratorially. "Lady problems." Big Dick immediately goes red and starts to nod vigorously.
"Yes, yes," he says. "Do go home. And, uh, rest up." He looks awkwardly to the side, not wanting to look directly at her any more. Pansy mentally sighs. Men and menses. It works every time.
"Thank you," she says and leaves without another word. She doesn't see Greg on her walk back though to store, and for this she is glad. She doesn't have the time to explain anything to him. Not that she feels like she should anyway. This is Hit Wizard business and he's a civilian.
She finds McLaggen where she left him. He is halfway through a giant ice cream cone. She stands on the top of the stairs and stares at him, tapping her foot in irritation.
"What?" he asks. "You said we could have ice cream."
…
It does end up taking all of the rest of the afternoon, Pansy and McLaggen manage to make around to every real estate agent on the list. But what they learn doesn't make much sense. Pansy was hoping there would be some connection between the various agents but none of them had been dealing with the same people. They haven't even been dealing with the same mortgage brokers or banks.
But Pansy is not deterred. She has been taking copious notes all day and she spreads them all out on the table once they get back to the Cooler. McLaggen is still with her and when she tries to tell him to go home, he shakes his head.
"There is nothing more important than this right now," he insists.
"So you still can't get a date?" Pansy teases. He looks so sad that she almost feels bad. Until she remembers their legillimancy session and how he could not stop sexualizing her.
"We're going to have to look up all of these banks," Pansy says, looking down her list. McLaggen nods.
"Should we use the internet?" he asks.
"The what?"
"The internet. You know, the muggle invention that connects computers to each other?"
"Of course," Pansy blusters. "I'll let you take lead on that for now. In the meantime, I'm going to start putting together an evidence board."
"Who has access to this room?" McLaggen asks.
"Draco, Harry and I," Pansy says. "Obviously. And then I believe Dempsey and Granger. Why?"
"Just wondering about the security. I've wanted to do an evidence board myself, but I don't feel there is a secure enough area in the Ministry. I worry that someone from the Simurgh Society might walk in and see it."
"Our security is very tight," Pansy says. "It has to be. This is where the Reliquary trains."
"When are they coming back by the way?" McLaggen asks. Pansy sighs and tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. She twists her mouth to the side.
"I'm not sure," she says. "It's an open ended assignment."
"Interesting."
"What do you mean 'interesting'?" she asks.
"Don't you think that it's odd that the Reliquary - the one magical super computer who might be able to parse all of this information and detect a pattern - is out of the country for an indeterminate length of time, just as these murders seem to be escalating?"
"I don't know if I would say escalating," Pansy says slowly.
"Circe," McLaggen says. "Let's put up this evidence board and you'll see what I mean."
…
"What did my father say?" Massi whispers to Draco as Harry changes into his pajamas in the bathroom.
"He said he needs to confer with the family," Draco says. Massi nods.
"That is good," he says. "That is not a no." He smiles and reaches a hand out to cup Draco's face. Draco tilts his head to rest it in Massi's palm. "It means I will get to see more you you." He shuffles closer to Draco on the bed and then leans in and kisses him quickly on the lips before pulling away shyly.
"What did you and Harry get up to while I was gone?" Draco asks. Massi shrugs.
"We drank."
"What Massi is not telling you," Harry says, emerging from the bathroom. "Is that he made me drink grappa." Draco's eyes flick from Harry back to Massi who looks pleased with himself.
"How was it?" Draco asks.
"I'll just go with 'it's not my favorite'," Harry says.
"How very British of you."
…
Later that evening, once Massi is passed out in a post coital daze, Harry pulls out his wand and performs a quick, silent Stupefy because he needs to talk to Draco without worrying that Massi is going to wake up. He beckons Draco over to him, and Draco clambers out of the bed and then walks around the other side where Harry is. He sits down next to Harry who immediately pulls him into a hug.
"I've missed this," Draco says softly. "I know it's only been a few days, but I've missed being near to you. Alone that is. Are we sure he's not going to wake up?"
"He's unconscious," Harry says, jerking his head to indicate Massi and holding up his wand. Draco nods.
"Good. Then I can do this." He reaches up and puts his hand on Harry's cheek before leaning in and gently kissing him. It is a lingering kiss and Draco tries to pour into it all of his feelings for Harry that he's had to keep suppressed while they've been staying with the Battaglias. Harry squeezes him close before pulling away.
"We have things we need to talk about," he says. Draco nods. He chews on his lip. "Tomorrow is the dinner with the Luczkowski family. Do you have any more details on the Battaglia's plan for them?"
"No," Draco says. "Unfortunately not. But Massi said something about making your death look like an accident. I don't know if that means they plan to poison you? Or if there's going to be an ambush and you'll be accidentally killed in the crossfire?"
"I love how you're talking so casually about my death," Harry says, smirking as Draco looks horrified.
"I'm not expecting them to actually kill you," Draco says, eyes wide. Harry chuckles into his ear and then kisses his cheek.
"I know. I'm just teasing."
"My best guess is that there's going to be an ambush," Draco says. "Massi mentioned something about bringing my wand to dinner." Harry nods.
"That tracks with Massi needing to pick up the Hand of Glory."
"Did you end up having one?" Draco asks.
"Yes. There was one at the very bottom of my extendable coat pocket. It had a note from Hermione on it that said it was for emergencies only. As if I needed reminding."
"Well, I would say you not dying counts as an emergency." Draco leans in and kisses Harry again then presses their foreheads together. "You'd better not die," he whispers.
"I'll do my best." Draco frowns but nods. Then he snuggles down in the bed next to Harry and they talk tactics until they both fall asleep.
…
Wednesday dawns dark and cold as it is the midst of winter. But either way, Harry, Draco and Massi sleep late. Massi, technically, is still unconscious, but that is not the point. The point is that Harry and Draco actually get a good night's rest for the first time that week. They finally stir around ten in the morning when a beam of light makes its way through a gap in the curtains and hits Harry in the face.
He blinks slowly awake and for a moment he doesn't think about the fact that he and Draco are in danger in a wizarding mafioso's house. Instead he thinks about the fact that Draco is still asleep in his arms. And about how much he cares about him. He wonders if it is too early for him to say that he loves him. They have only been actually dating for just over a month. Is it too early for him to feel the way he does?
But it has always been this way with them. He has always had a more intense relationship with Draco than with anyone else, be it their rivalry in school or their now budding relationship. Yes, there's the complication of Massi and their strange three-way (but is it really?) relationship, but hopefully by the end of the day, the Massi problem will be a thing of the past.
They just have to get through the day.
And then the reality of the situation crashes back over Harry. He's been aware of how much danger they have been in the entire time they have been at the Battaglia house, but he has been trying to downplay it so as not to alarm Draco. But there is a not so small chance that they will not get out of this unscathed.
All Harry wants is to keep Draco safe. He's not sure what he will do if anything happens to Draco. And so the knot of terror that has been a constant in Harry's stomach for the past few days reties itself and the bliss of having just woken up with Draco in his arms fades.
He takes a deep breath and tamps down the fear. He has a plan. He's pretty sure it's a good plan.
They can get through this, he tells himself.
They have to get through this.
He breathes in deeply again and holds the air in his lungs for three seconds before letting it out again. He wills his heart rate to slow back to a normal rate as he continues to take another pair of deep breaths. He concentrates on his breathing for a few minutes, until he feels some of the panic start to subside, and then he gently kisses Draco awake.
His heart melts as Draco blinks slowly at him before a small smile crosses the blond's face.
"Morning," Harry whispers. He reaches out and cups Draco's cheek in his palm.
"Hi," Draco says.
"Are you ready for today?" Harry asks. Draco blinks blearily at him for a moment before his eyes snap open, bright with sudden attention.
"I think so," he says.
"Do you remember everything we talked about last night?"
"Do I remember the plan? Of course I do," Draco says. "Do you think it's going to work?"
"I think it's the best shot we have," Harry says. Draco's mouth is a grim slash across his face. He stares at Harry for a long moment and then nods once. Then he buries his head in Harry's chest and Harry is not sure - and he doesn't ask - but he thinks he can feel a wetness that might be tears.
…
Pansy stares at the completed evidence board and her jaw drops open. She can't help it. Laid out this way, it's incredibly obvious that something is afoot.
It is now the next day. McLaggen had gone home around one in the morning and Pansy had fallen asleep on the sofa in the corner about half an hour later. She had woken, dazed and confused as to where she was until she had seen the half complete board. She'd apparated straight home, showered and changed, and had been in Dempsey's office by the time the General had gotten into work.
"I need McLaggen on the Reliquary team," she had said once Dempsey had ushered her in.
"You do?" Dempsey had looked surprised over the reading glasses that Pansy felt she wore more out of affectation than of need.
"Yes." On this, Pansy had been firm.
"Are you sure that's wise? You two have history."
"Yes. We have put the past behind us, and he's one of the best Hit Wizards we have."
"Why now? Malfoy and Potter are still out in the field."
"That's why I think now is the perfect time," Pansy had argued. "I'll have time to bring him up to speed before Potter and Malfoy return."
"If you're sure," the General had said and Pansy had nodded. And that had been that.
Now it's mid afternoon and she and McLaggen are back at the Cooler, staring at their completed evidence board.
"Wow," she says. She puts a hand up to her forehead, pushing back the wisps of hair that have fallen in front of her eyes.
"If we'd had the Reliquary here," McLaggen says. "I don't think it would have taken this long."
"Do you think," Pansy starts to say, but then she stops herself. Surely, that would be too far fetched.
"Do I think what?" McLaggen asks but Pansy shakes her head. "Go on, it's a conspiracy. There are no strange questions."
"That's true, but this seems too far fetched even for this."
"Tell me anyway," McLaggen says. Pansy sighs. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other.
"Do you think someone planned for the Reliquary to be out of the country right now?" McLaggen raises his eyebrows.
"I don't know." He takes a deep breath. "If they did, that might imply that they know who it is."
"Fuck. That's seriously high level clearance." Pansy walks over to the sofa in the corner and sits down heavily on it. McLaggen waits a beat and then follows her. He sits on one of the chairs, a respectable distance away. She looks at him.
"They might not know who," McLaggen says after a moment. "Were you there when they got the assignment?" Pansy shakes her head.
"No, but Granger filled me in. There was chatter about an object in Zermatt that was planning to be stolen. No information on what the object was, but rumor had it, the Battaglia family were going to be behind the robbery."
"Shit," McLaggen breathes. "The Battaglias?"
"I know."
"And they sent them in alone?"
"Granger wanted them to be very low profile." McLaggen brings his hand up to his mouth and chews on his thumbnail for a moment.
"So it could have been a legitimate ask," he says finally.
"Yes."
"But it's so vague and open ended that it could have been just to get Draco out of the country."
"Also yes." McLaggen slumps back in his chair.
"Fuck."
"Indeed," Pansy says. She stares at him. "What do we do now?"
"I don't know." McLaggen sounds tired. "I was hoping you might have some sort of idea."
"I feel like I'm in over my head."
"You feel like you're in over your head? You're the highest ranking Ministry member on our task force."
"Who else is on this task force?" Pansy asks. In all the time they've spent together in the past two days, the subject has yet to come up. But if the Simurgh Society has someone in their midst with the power to send the Reliquary away for an indeterminate amount of time, she hopes the group trying to stop them might have some similar brass. Though Cormac's words have her thinking otherwise. She braces herself.
"Right now," McLaggen says slowly. "Mortimer Banks. Uh, and Algernon Braithwaite." She's heard of Algernon in passing. He is another Unspeakable. She waits for McLaggen to list the other members and when he doesn't add any more after a moment she looks at him in shock. It is worse than she might have thought.
"Seriously? It's the three of you?"
"There were four of us," McLaggen says, his eyes flashing in irritation. "But then Oliver Wood killed himself." Pansy can't help it. She flinches. She hasn't had any Wood nightmares recently, but the memories are still sharp in her mind.
"I don't know why he did that," Pansy says. "I think about it all the time. Particularly now that I know he wasn't acting alone. Didn't he trust you to help him?"
"There are three of us, Parkinson," McLaggen says. "And none of us would have had the influence or authority to get him out of trouble. There are, presumably, some very powerful people in the Society. Who knows what they would have done to him to get information from him."
"But-" Pansy starts to say, but McLaggen cuts her off.
"-He did what he felt he needed to do to keep the Reliquary safe and out of the Society's clutches."
"But we don't even know they were after it," Pansy protests. "From what you've told me, you don't really know anything."
"We know more than I've let on," McLaggen says. Pansy slumps back on the couch cushions and crosses her arms. "What?" McLaggen throws his hands up in the air. "I'm still figuring out if we can trust you."
"Circe, Cormac. Do you want my help or not? May I remind you, I just brought you onto the most high profile task force in the DMLEHS."
"Yes, and I'm grateful for that but-"
"-Look, do you want me to be a part of the Coalition Undermining Nefarious Traitors? If so, I'll join. But if I do join, we are changing the name because we are not twelve."
"Ok, it's a deal," McLaggen says. "Will you swear an Unbreakable vow?"
"Do you really need me to?" Pansy asks, sitting forward and resting her elbows on her knees.
"It does help with the whole trust thing."
"Fine. But I'm setting the terms."
…
The preparations for the dinner party feel like the preparation for any dinner party that Draco's parents had thrown. There's a flurry of activity in the dining room, with house elves dusting, sweeping, laying tables, arranging flowers, and laying out place cards. Massi's mother, whom Draco has only met in passing, walks from table to table and yells at any passing person in rapid Italian. She is so much like his mother in that way, it is uncanny.
In order to stay out of the way, Massi takes Harry and Draco to lunch. He has not let Harry and Draco alone for a moment since waking up and Draco is glad that they had talked for a while before waking him. Not that Draco feels confident in their plan per se, but it is fresh in his mind at the very least.
As they walk back from lunch, Massi takes Draco's hand. Draco finds it strange that Massi touches him all the time. It is nice to have the attention, sure, but Massi seems to go out of his way to be physically affectionate with Draco, especially when Harry is watching. Draco assumes it is to make Harry jealous, and he is glad that Harry is keeping his emotions in check. He has clearly learned a lot since Hogwarts.
Massi chats about inane nothings while they get changed for dinner. It is a formal function, so Draco is wearing the tuxedo he wore to the opening night of La Scala. He worries for a moment as he puts it on that the pensieve phials are still in his pocket, but Harry has had the foresight to move them.
"This will be fun," Massi says, straightening Draco's bowtie. "It will be a very exciting evening." Draco blinks for a moment, overcome with a feeling of deja vu, until he realizes this is a mirror of Harry convincing him everything would be fine before the opening night of La Scala. And yet, here they are.
He tries to stay positive. They have a plan. They do. And if it all goes well, or rather doesn't all go tits up, they will have helped bring down one of the most notorious crime families in the European wizarding community. He concentrates on that light at the end of the tunnel as he fixes a smile to his face.
It doesn't help that he knows that the way that they will get out of this is by arresting or killing Massi and all of his family. He has grown oddly attached to Massi in the few days they have been at the Battaglia house. More than once he has himself thinking fondly about fucking Massi in the Battaglia Wunderkammer, of how his body had shuddered around Draco as he came, of the planes of his back, the curves of his ass. But then he shakes himself mentally and reminds himself that Massi is the enemy.
"I'm looking forward to it," he tells Massi. He keeps his gaze on Massi's face, resisting the urge to flick his eyes in Harry's direction.
"Perfetto," Massi says. He lets go of Draco's bowtie, satisfied at last that it looks right. Draco turns to Harry and holds out his hand. Harry smiles and takes it.
"Shall we?" he asks, ignoring Massi.
"Let's."
"Yes," Massi says quickly. "Let's go." He grabs Draco's other hand and tugs them out the door. Draco squeezes Harry's hand lightly and feels Harry squeeze his back in return. It helps to dissipate some the feeling of dread that has settled over Draco. But as they follow Massi down the stairs, Draco can't help but think the worst. He wants nothing more than to let go of Massi's hand and to push Harry into the nearest wall and kiss him senseless, just in case it's the last time he can do that. But he can't.
And so they follow Massi down the stairs and out into the party.
…
During the cocktail hour before dinner, Harry and Draco stick close together. They mingle with the guests and make polite small talk, all the while sipping on non-alcoholic beverages, disguised as gin and tonics. They pretend to get as tipsy as Massi who flits around the room but always seems to find his way back to them. He hangs on Draco's arm and laughs. He straightens Draco's bowtie. He insists on sitting next to Draco at dinner and sneaks his hand into Draco's lap during the antipasto course.
Draco is so on edge that the smallest brush of Massi's hand over his lap gets him half hard. Draco has heard of fear boners before, but even in the year of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named living in their house, he had never experienced one. He wonders what has changed.
Massi catches his eye and flicks his gaze towards one of the doors out of the dining room, a sly smile on his face. Draco shakes his head. There is no way that he is leaving Harry alone right now. Massi looks put out, but he shrugs as if to say it's Draco's loss. Draco wonders if this had been his plan to get Draco out of harm's way and if Draco has just ruined it. He's not sure if he should be touched or if he's reading too much into things.
Then Signore Battaglia stands and Massi snaps his attention to his father. Signore Battaglia raises his glass in a toast. Everyone scrabbles for a moment to pick up their own glassware before then raising it to mirror him. He opens his mouth to speak. And the room goes black.
It's happening. The ambush.
And it's happening so fast that Draco doesn't have the time to think about anything that's going on. All he does is react. He ducks under the table and crawls towards where Harry was sitting. A moment later he feels Harry, or at least he who presumes is Harry - he can't see after all, crawl up next to him and throw a cloth over him.
"Give me your wand," Harry growls. It is definitely Harry. Which means that the cloth Draco is under is the invisibility cloak. Draco reaches into his wand pocket, pulls out his wand and thrusts it into Harry's hand.
"Here."
"Thanks." They crawl forward in the pitch black until Harry puts a hand out to stop Draco. Draco sits and pulls his knees up to his chest, making himself as small as possible. He feels Harry stand and then a moment later crouch back down. "I love you," Harry says into his ear.
"What?"
"In case something happens. I want you to know. I love you."
"I-" Harry kisses him roughly and then stands. "I love you too," Draco says to Harry's knees but he's not sure Harry hears him.
He thinks he hears Massi yell his name in a terrified voice, but he can't be sure. There is a lot of screaming.
There are flashes of light everywhere, most of them green, some of them red. Draco looks up to see Harry dual wielding their wands, shooting off spell after spell in such quick succession that it's an almost unending flash of red. Of course, Harry can see where his spells are landing, but to Draco, it looks like they just disappear into the darkness.
Draco concentrates on his breathing because it is all he can do. He feels so naked without his wand, but he knows that he wouldn't be nearly as effective as Harry in this situation. At least no one can see him. And, of course, no one can see Harry.
Slowly the room quietens. The flashes of light decrease in number until it is only red flashes that Draco can see. He is stiff from sitting in such a tight ball, but he dares not move until Harry tells him it's safe. The room begins to lighten as the Instant Darkness powder wears off. Draco looks up and sees a grim expression on Harry's face. He is still firing stunning spells around the room even though Draco can't hear any other movement.
Draco looks out into the room. It looks like a massacre. There are bodies strewn everywhere. Some people are on the floor, others are still in their seats. No one is moving. And still Harry fires stunning spells. He seems to be firing them off methodically now, hitting every person in the room and Draco finally understands that Harry is making sure that everyone is actually unconscious (or dead, his mind helpfully supplies).
Finally Harry stops. He sinks down on his knees next to Draco. His face is pale and he looks like he's just run five miles. He is panting hard but when Draco reaches out to rest a steadying hand on his chest, he gives Draco a wan smile.
"That was incredible," Draco says. Harry sinks fully to the floor, splaying his legs out to the side as he eases onto his butt.
"Thank you," he says.
"Are you okay?" Draco asks. Harry takes a deep, steadying breath and then nods. "You're not hurt at all?"
"No," Harry says. "With the cloak and all the confusion, no one knew where I was."
"You were so fast," Draco says. "I didn't know wizards could cast that fast." Harry shrugs.
"I've had a lot of practice." Draco shuffles over next to Harry and Harry leans his head on Draco's shoulder. Draco wraps an arm around him and they sit like that, still under the cloak, for the better part of a minute.
"What now?" Draco says.
"Now," Harry says, lifting his head up. "We call the police."
A/N: I periodically re-read what I've written to make sure I haven't forgotten anything, and I realized I had forgotten that Shacklebolt was not my Minister for Magic. I have gone back and corrected this.
