Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K.R.

AN: This story is part of the Halloween Collection of the Haphne discord server. You can find the other stories here.

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We're pretty open to other shippers, so you are welcomed, no matter which pairing you prefer.

This story is from a multiple pov. I will change the pov by chapter, so this means sometimes very short chapters. Don't tell me you've not been warned. ;) I'll try to post a couple of chapters at a time if they are too short.

Many thanks to Federer Rex for beta-ing this chapter.


Despite that Ron and he did not leave the club's bar until well after midnight, Harry still arrived at his desk in Auror headquarters before eight the next morning, even though it was a Sunday. It wasn't unusual for him to go above and beyond his job description. He was the youngest Head Auror in history, a huge compliment to his skills, but that also made him open to attacks from his adversaries at the ministry and the Wizengamot over his conduct should he stray or err even slightly. He'd resigned himself to being the first in and last one out for the foreseeable future, and that also meant working on weekends. At least he didn't have to do night shifts anymore as long as there was no major operation.

He put his cloak in the wardrobe of his office closet, closed the door, and sat down at his desk. The head of the night shift had already left his report on the blotter. Nothing major, just the usual for a Saturday night.

A patrol had finally got hold of Mundungus Fletcher behind a seedy pub in Liverpool. They'd been looking for him for quite some time; the department had been investigating a case of forged rare potions ingredients for the last year, and an informant had provided compelling evidence that Mundungus was one of the distributors. He'd always been horrible at covering his tracks. Harry chuckled to himself, he had only issued the arrest order three days previously. He plucked a quill from the gold plated holder and scribbled down a memo for the Auror who manned the department's reception today to bring him Mundungus' file.

While the memo fluttered out of his office, he read the last few entries of the report. There were the usual Saturday-night-brawls in Knockturn Alley, and there had been another incident with the ghosts of The Green-Eyed Cat in Ghosfort which involved the Obliviators.

He shook his head. Ghosfort had a reputation among Muggles for being the most haunted village of the British Isles. That drew the Muggles to the place in flocks, especially around Halloween. While there was a considerable number of ghosts in the village, it wasn't by far the highest number he had ever seen congregating at one place outside of Hogwarts. The Tower of London, for example, also had an impressive collection. However, the ghosts of Ghosfort had a mischievous streak and liked to tease Muggles. They became somewhat friskier each year around Halloween, which was coming up next Tuesday. His predecessor had made a point to show up at the pub each year shortly before Halloween and deliver a lecture to them. Maybe he should keep that tradition. He'd also heard at the club that the restaurant connected to the pub had an exceptional new chef, so he'd at least get some benefits out of that particular duty.

This time, his chuckle was rueful. He'd developed a taste for excellent food ever since he lived at the club. He really should try out that restaurant, even though he usually preferred Muggle restaurants when he wasn't dining at the club, to keep his profile low.

There was a knock at the door, and one of the Junior Aurors came in, carrying Mundungus' file and a steaming mug of tea. He thanked the man with a smile and set to work.

Two hours later, he'd finished reading the new entries in Mundungus' file, dealt with another request for more details about the use of the department's funds from the management department which he had put off until the quiet hours of Sunday, and now poured over the other files about the case of the forged potions ingredients to plan a new operation, an idea he'd got while reading Mundungus' file, when the Junior Auror came into the room once again. He looked nervous, most likely because he knew that he didn't like interruptions of his Sunday morning catch-up time unless there was an emergency.

Harry looked up from his notes, quill in his hand, and a slight frown on his face. "Yes, Abercrombie?" It had been a busy morning so far, it wouldn't hurt to let the Junior Auror know that he wasn't happy about the interruption.

"Mrs Malfoy is waiting outside. She doesn't have an appointment. Do you want to see her, Head Auror?"

He frowned and put the quill down. What did Narcissa want this early on a Sunday morning? He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was just past ten, he would have thought she would have been still at breakfast.

"Did you tell her to make an appointment for another day?" he asked in the hopes to get out of seeing her, although he already knew that this was futile. While he and Narcissa had become well acquainted over the years since the end of the war, thanks to them frequently running into each other at Andromeda's house, they weren't in the habit of paying each other social calls. When she came to the department on a Sunday morning to talk to him, there was trouble brewing.

"Yes, sir. She didn't want that. She said that it's urgent and that she was going to wait until you were free to talk to her."

The Junior Auror's words confirmed his thoughts, and Harry barely suppressed a grimace.

Great, the last thing he wanted was being dragged into anything that concerned the Malfoys. They had laid low ever since the war, there was no indication they were still involved with the old Death Eater network. Which didn't mean that they weren't involved with other criminal activities. The war had taken a toll on the Malfoy fortune. Lucius and Draco had managed to stay out of Azkaban, thanks to their incompetence and his witness, but they still had to pay a huge fine each and to compensate those they had hurt.

There couldn't be much left of their fortune, yet they still lived as they did before the war. The sources of their income were one of the hottest discussed topics within the Auror Department. There were a lot of rumours, and they all had suspicions. One of these days he'd put together a team to investigate them. However, seven years after the Battle of Hogwarts, there were still bigger fish to fry. He had to bide his time until he could throw the Malfoys into the frying pan.

Harry sighed. He owed it to Andromeda and to his acquaintance with Narcissa to talk to her. Most likely Narcissa had counted on that, she knew how to play the social game.

"Show her in," he said to Abercrombie with a small grimace to convey he didn't blame him for the interruption. "I don't want her to become a permanent decoration of the Auror Department."

"Yes, Head Auror," Abercrombie said with a small chuckle and went out of the room.

Harry closed the files on his desk, banished them in a cabinet, and straightened his tie. What by Merlin's blue balls had happened that Narcissa came into the ministry to see him? While she had cultivated their acquaintance with his silent consent, she had never shown a sign to take advantage of that.

The door opened again, and Abercrombie ushered Narcissa into his office.

Harry got up from his chair. "Narcissa, how do you do? What brings you to the Auror office this early on a Sunday morning?" He gave a not so subtle glance at the clock on the wall. "Take a seat, please."

"Good morning, Harry." She held out her hand to him, then sat down in the visitor's chair in front of his desk. "I am sorry to disturb you, but this is urgent, and you are in the best position to help me."

While she sat down and arranged the folds of her stylish robes, he sized her up with a covert glance.

As always, she was dressed to the nines, with expertly done makeup and not a hair out of place. Yet, she was paler than usual under her makeup, there was a faint crease of worry between her eyebrows, and while her mouth smiled at him, her eyes were dark and concerned.

He had learned to appreciate the armour of impeccable dress and manners and to look behind the appearance. Something was seriously amiss for Narcissa to be in such turmoil.

"What happened?"

"Draco is missing." She blurted the words, another clue that she was troubled if he had needed one.

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair. He should have known it was about the ferret.

Narcissa was a snob and a supremacist until today, although she'd learned to hide that because the tides had changed against her. Her only redeeming feature was her deep love for her son. She'd sacrifice everything for him, even risk her life, as she had shown in the Black Forest.

He appreciated that. Still, Narcissa's worries were no reason to go against Auror protocol.

"Since when?"

"He didn't come down for the Sunday family breakfast this morning, so I went up to his room to make sure he wasn't sick."

Harry's brows shot up at that. Wasn't Malfoy married? You'd think his wife would already take care of him in case of a sudden illness. Although Narcissa's words indicated that Malfoy and his wife didn't share a bedroom.

"He wasn't in his room, his bed was untouched."

"When did you see him for the last time?"

"Yesterday morning, around ten. He was about to go out."

Harry spread out his arms in a helpless gesture. "Narcissa, Draco is an adult. He's allowed to stay out for a night. He won't thank me if I stuck my nose into his business. As long as there isn't an imminent danger for his health or his life, my hands are tied."

"He didn't turn up for our family breakfast. It isn't like Draco to stay away from family time without letting us know beforehand."

"Maybe he is too busy and it just slipped his mind." Harry shrugged. "I'm sorry, Narcissa, but that is not enough to warrant an investigation of the Auror Department."

"You don't understand." Narcissa's fingers clawed in the folds of her skirt, and there was a desperate undertone in her voice. "There has been a threat to Draco's life."

Harry almost shrugged for a second time. That wasn't news, either. Half of Britain's population had clamoured for Malfoy's life during his trial, and there had been a nationwide cry of outrage when he got off with only a hefty fine, a short period of house arrest, and community service afterwards. Like everything with the magical public, that had died down quickly when something new came up that occupied their minds. Nowadays, people couldn't care less about what Draco Malfoy was doing. Unless—

"Was this threat from one of the missing Death Eaters?"

He turned to look at the most wanted wall, several of which had red crosses across their pictures.

Narcissa shifted in her seat and followed his gaze. Something other than reluctance reflected in her eyes that he caught in his peripheral vision.

Most Death Eaters were either dead or behind the bars of Azkaban these days, thanks to Lucius singing like a bird about his former pals in a successful attempt to keep himself out of Azkaban, although his magic was bound and he was put under house arrest and not allowed to leave the grounds of Malfoy Manor. It hadn't endeared him to his former chums, there had been more than one threat to his life, and even an attempt to kill him. Unsuccessful, alas. However, a few Death Eaters were still on the run, among them Rockwood and Avery. They wouldn't shy away from killing Draco to get back at Lucius.

Narcissa shook her head. "No, nothing like that." She took a deep breath. "It's a family matter, I'm afraid." She paused and averted her eyes.

"You'll need to be more specific, Narcissa. I can't call for an investigation as long as you don't give me details that point at Draco being in imminent danger."

She took a deep breath and nodded. "I see your point, although it's embarrassing to talk about it. The Malfoys don't like to air their dirty laundry in the open."

"I'm required to maintain a certain professional discretion." Harry gave her a terse smile. "What is it, Narcissa?"

"You know that Draco married right after the battle?" She still didn't look at him.

"I do. Astoria Greengrass, right? It caused a lot of talk, nobody saw that coming, we always thought he'd marry Pansy one day."

A small sound escaped her throat. It almost sounded like a sob. "It should have been Pansy, Draco would have been much happier with her. However, my poor son made a big mistake and had to marry Astoria instead."

Harry leaned back in his chair. So, Malfoy had made another blunder and had to face the consequences? Served the git right for being a greasy pompous arse. Yet, it wouldn't do to let Narcissa realise that his sympathy for Malfoy's predicament was non-existing. It was better to assume the stance of a sympathetic listener and let Narcissa continue her tale. He hummed agreement, hopefully, she'd take that as sympathy.

Narcissa flashed him an upward glance and a smile. "I knew you'd understand. After all, you've also suffered from an unhappy marriage."

Harry tensed and he pressed his lips together. He wasn't going to trade stories about his failed marriage with Narcissa. Besides, he'd been on cloud nine during the first months of his marriage, the hard fall had come later, while it sounded as if Malfoy had never wanted to marry Astoria.

Her attention diverted to a fold of her skirt that she smoothed over again and again, Narcissa didn't notice his irritation. There was a faint blush in her cheeks.

This talk had to cost her a lot. He made another noncommittal noise to keep her talking.

"You don't know how it was at Hogwarts those last weeks before the battle. I don't know, either, Draco doesn't talk much about it, but he told me enough that I could fill in the blanks. He and Pansy drifted apart that year. With the ongoings in our house, Draco kept away from her so as not to put her into danger."

Harry hummed again in understanding, while his thoughts raced. Now, did Malfoy? Or had Pansy withdrawn from him in the knowledge that Voldemort had forced himself on the Malfoys as a permanent house guest, and that their lives were in danger because Lucius and Draco both had failed to meet his expectations?

"Draco was desperate and vulnerable. Astoria took advantage of that and made a move on him. She'd lusted after him for years, Pansy told me of it later. Imagine that, she is two years younger than Draco! Of course, she is terribly precocious. Pansy said. She said—Astoria seduced Draco." Two crimson spots burned on Narcissa's cheeks.

Harry put his fingertips together in a triangle in front of his face to hide his grin. The prudery of the Pureblood circles never failed to amuse him. Sexual intercourse out of marriage or at least a betrothal was still unthinkable to most of them. Thankfully, Ginny had never been like that—

His grin faded. It would have been better for both of them if they hadn't danced to the tune of their hormones and the drunken, yet guilt-ridden feeling of survival.

Narcissa took another deep breath, probably to fortify herself for the next sordid part of her tale. It wasn't necessary, he knew Scorpius' birthday and he could count from nine backwards.

"Draco should have known better than to fall for that. She was too dumb to take any protection, or maybe she left them on purpose to get what she wanted. Scorpius is the result of that night. I brought up my son well. Draco is a gentleman through and through and knew his duty towards the wretched girl. However—" She stopped and bit her lips.

"She isn't as thankful to him for saving her reputation as she should be?" he asked.

A derisive snort escaped Narcissa's throat. "Not in the slightest. By the way she acts, you should think that she is the injured part and that Draco destroyed her life the day he married her, instead of saving her from the repercussions of her lack of judgement. I doubt my son has had one happy day in his life ever since he had to marry that girl."

And what was it about the young Mrs Malfoy? Somehow, he couldn't believe in the seduction part, it didn't fit with the quiet Ravenclaw he vaguely remembered. Neither did he believe that her life was a bed of roses. Yet, he swallowed the question that would put Narcissa in heavy defence of her young and said instead, "I understand. Draco's marriage is unhappy. I am sorry, Narcissa, that still isn't enough to warrant an investigation in his alleged disappearance."

The corners of his mouth twitched. Disappearance, Merlin's arse! Malfoy wasn't the first Pureblood wizard who found himself someone cuddlier than his unwilling wife and didn't return at night, nor would he be the last. He probably found it hard to leave his willing paramour and forgot everything about the breakfast with his family. Damn, he almost envied the bastard, it had been way too long, not since he'd left Ginny—

"You don't understand!"

Narcissa's indignant voice yanked him out of his thoughts. She sat up very straight, the two spots on her cheeks had become darker, and she glared at him.

"It's not just an unhappy marriage, Harry! That woman never misses an opportunity to pick a fight. She never bothers if the whole household is listening in to her tirades, either. Yesterday, she was once again riled up about a perceived injustice Draco did to her. She marched into the study and yelled at him. As always, Astoria didn't bother to close the door behind herself. I was in the adjoining parlour and could hear each word she said. She threatened to kill Draco, and she attacked him. I could hear the sounds of a tussle. I rushed towards the study, but she was already gone when I came into the room. Draco was injured."

"What did she do to him?"

"From the way Draco held himself, I concluded that she must have kicked him in his nether regions," Narcissa said primly.

Harry snorted. He brought up his fist and coughed, in a belated attempt to mask his unprofessional hilarity. Way to go, young Mrs Malfoy! Not for one moment did he buy Narcissa's story of Draco being the only injured part in her sordid tale of yet another marriage forced by old-fashioned Pureblood notions because a baby was on the way. While Draco had been rather subdued during the months of the Death Eater trials, he'd bounced back to being his conceited, spoiled self as soon as the danger of him ending in Azkaban was over. No, the young woman had his sympathies. Yet, it wouldn't do to let Narcissa know.

"As painful as that might have been to Draco, it hardly put him into lethal danger."

"You have not yet heard everything, Harry." Narcissa shot him a dirty look, probably because she was annoyed that he had laughed about Draco's predicament. "She shouted at him afterwards. I heard with my own ears how she threatened him. One of these days, I'm going to kill you, Draco! Those were her words. She stormed out of the room after that, towards the classroom and took Scorpius out of his lesson, then they both left the house. Draco was distressed about that, naturally. She pulls the child out of it's routine whenever she is mad at Draco and sets Scorpius against his father. Draco decided to visit her sister's house and take Scorpius home. That is the last time I talked to him. He didn't return home after he left for that task."

Once again, Harry stapled his fingers in front of his face to hide his expression and leaned back to ponder Narcissa's words. The guidelines of the Auror Department were simple in cases like this: an investigation into the disappearance of an adult was only warranted if there was plausible evidence of them being in imminent danger of losing their life or suffering severe damage to their health. Was this the case with Draco?

He and his wife had fought. According to Narcissa, his wife had attacked him and threatened to kill him. Those were pretty severe accusations. On the other hand, while Narcissa hadn't said it straight away, her story at least hinted at temperamental fights being a common thing in Draco's marriage. How much stock could you put on words said in rage and on a physical attack that was most likely provoked by something Malfoy had said or done? Narcissa hadn't mentioned anything that could put her son in a bad light, but he knew how the git worked and would bet his appointment as Head Auror that Malfoy had goaded his wife until she couldn't take it anymore and lashed out.

He had only Narcissa's word to go on, and that was the problem. How much truth was in her tale?

Some, but not enough, his gut told him. He couldn't put his finger on it—yet—but something in her story didn't ring true. It was too glib, for lack of a better word. He couldn't fight the feeling that she was setting him up to investigate her unwanted daughter-in-law to further a scheme of her own. For example, why had she come to him, instead of talking to Draco's wife first?

He came to a decision and lowered his hands. "I'm sorry, Narcissa, but—"

Her eyes flashed in sudden anger, and her posture became even more rigid. "You are not going to fob me off like this, Harry. I'm telling you, something happened to Draco!"

The anxiety in her voice was genuine, as far as he could tell. In her way, Narcissa was a mother-hen as bad as Molly Weasley. Just like Molly Weasley—and his own mother—she was prepared to do anything to save her young. His mother had died to save him, Molly Weasley had killed Bellatrix Lestrange as the deranged witch almost killed Ginny, and Narcissa had lied to Voldemort's face about him being dead in the Forbidden Forest.

Her angry eyes bored into his. You owe me, they said.

His magic reacted.

Damn her!

They had never acknowledged the life debt he owed her aloud. Narcissa had never demanded anything from him. Yet, his magic compelled him to go out of his way to oblige her.

He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I am still not convinced that Draco is in immediate danger, Narcissa, but I can see how distressed you are. While I don't have enough evidence to order an official investigation, I promise to look into it myself, unofficially, of course."

Great, there went the rest of his quiet Sunday!

"That is all I ask for." She relaxed, all smiles and graciousness.

Harry reached for a quill and a sheet of parchment. "I'd best start with talking to Draco's wife. Where can I find her?"

Narcissa's nose wrinkled slightly as if she had caught a bad smell. "Her family owns a pub, The Green-Eyed Cat in Ghosford. Unless Astoria did seek shelter with"—she gave a delicate cough—"a male protector."

"Who?" Harry asked with a sharp glance at her.

"I wouldn't know." Narcissa shook her head. "I only heard rumours. Astoria is too smart to let herself get caught."

Good on her. Harry scribbled the information on the parchment with a strange sense of deja-vu. Funny, that the name of a magical pub he'd never visited would come up twice this morning within a short time. Or were the incident with the ghosts of the pub and Malfoy's disappearance related? It seemed far-fetched, but it wouldn't hurt to look into that.

"I'll visit the pub and talk to her."

The derisive wrinkle on Narcissa's nose deepened, and she sniffed. "If you are there, you might as well talk to her precious sister, too. There isn't anything she wouldn't do for Astoria, murder included."

Thanks to long years of Auror work, he kept a blank face. Narcissa was not only out for Draco's wife but also for his sister-in-law? What was behind that? Had she got the better of the Malfoys? If yes, she was a woman he'd like to meet.

"Daphne Greengrass, isn't it?" he asked instead, maintaining a professional stance at least on the outside.

"Yes."

Narcissa nodded, and he scribbled the name down. He had only a faint recollection of Daphne Greengrass. She had belonged to the mass of quiet students at school who didn't stand out and—more importantly—never went out of their way to harass him, neither as admirers nor as wannabe-Death Eaters. All he remembered was an unremarkable girl with an extremely short pixie cut who had waited in line with Hermione for one of their OWL practicals; he had forgotten which one.

He raised his head from the paper. "Anyone else I should talk to?"

Narcissa pursed her lips and shook her head. "Why would you want to do that? Draco was headed to The Green-Eyed Cat when I last saw him and didn't return from there. I'm sure that the sisters are the key to his disappearance."

She was laying it on too thick. Why by Merlin's saggy underpants was Narcissa determined to point at the Greengrass sisters? What was her agenda?

"That might well be. However, do you know for certain that he never left the premises?"

Something like uneasiness appeared on her face, and she shook her head.

"I thought as much. So, it is possible he went somewhere else after talking to his wife. How does he usually spend his day? Who are his business partners? Who are his friends? I might have to talk to them, too."

She shifted in her seat, clearly, she didn't like that. "Draco is a very busy man. The management of the estate is on his shoulders, so he doesn't have much time to socialise with friends. Besides, I would appreciate it if you don't talk to any business acquaintances. It might cause panic among them and spoil future deals."

He nodded in acknowledgement of her concerns. "This is an informal investigation, Narcissa. Call it a favour. I wouldn't talk to anyone in Draco's outer circle until I'm convinced that he disappeared."

And didn't 'forget' to leave the bedroom of a bird he picked up in a bar where he had been drowning his sorrows and numbing the pain and embarrassment of being kicked in the balls by his wife. Of course, that was a suspicion he couldn't voice in Narcissa's presence, but it was worth looking into it.

"Where does Draco spend his free time? Is there a place where he hangs out?"

He already knew that Malfoy spent most of his nights at the club. Did Narcissa know about that?

"Draco is still a young man. With his marriage as unhappy as it is, he doesn't want to spend much time with his wife. He goes out almost every evening after Scorpius is in bed to see his friends at the club. Surely you must have seen him there."

So, Narcissa didn't know about the card room? Or did she talk around the issue not to soil her son's reputation?

"I work long nights and go straight to my rooms most days," he said. "Draco and I don't run in the same circles at the club, either."

She let that pass with a nod, obviously mollified by his answer. "Well, then you know who you'll have to ask at the club, don't you?" She gathered the folds of her long skirt in one hand and motioned to get up, a clear sign that she had imparted all the information she was willing to. "I'm most thankful for your willingness to help me, Harry."

He took the hint, got to his feet, and escorted her out of his office towards the department's Floo connection. When he returned to his office, he didn't go back to the files he'd worked on this morning but mulled over his conversation with Narcissa.

Her concern for Draco's wellbeing was real, and him not turning up this morning and not even sending a note of apology had shaken her. Yet, the way she had pointed again and again at her daughter-in-law and her sister didn't sit well with him. She had ignored all other options he'd pointed out to her—

Harry leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling as if the answer to Malfoy's disappearance was written down there. Which it, unfortunately, wasn't.

Narcissa was trying to frame her unwanted daughter-in-law for Draco's disappearance. Why? Knew Narcissa more than she let on? Was this a complicated scheme of the Malfoys to send Astoria Malfoy to Azkaban for an attack on her husband? He wouldn't put it past the Malfoys. But why such a complicated scheme? There had to be easier ways to get rid of Astoria Malfoy.

A simple divorce, for example, like Ginny and he had had. He'd even bet that nobody in the wizarding world would care a jot about that. Maybe there would be some gossip in Pureblood circles, but that would die down soon. It won't be anything close to what Ginny and he had had to go through—

So, why didn't they get a divorce, for Merlin's sake?

Somehow he knew that the answer to that question would be the answer to Malfoy's disappearance.

t.b.c