Ron needed some sort of breath mint. Harry didn't want to say anything as it was in his nature to be polite in matters of hygiene, but being stuck under an invisibility cloak with Ron Weasley was taking it's toll on him.

Ron had his face pressed against the cloak. Logically his breath should have pushed through the fabric and moved on to offend some helpless passerby. Sadly, nothing was logical where a Deathly Hallow was concerned. Instead his breath seemed to move along the fabric and straight into Harry's nose.

It smelled like onions, and butter, and the sour smell of a mouth that always ruined good smells like onions and butter. Harry desperately hoped that Ron's fragrant meal didn't move through his system too fast. Ron's breath and Weasley gas could be the whole operation's undoing.

"I don't think this guy's ever gonna show mate."

"Ginny's got Lily tonight so I've got plenty of time."

"Yeah and I've got a gorgeous wife who's so pregnant she's using a cane right now just sitting at home waiting for me." Ron reached over and grabbed Harry's forearm for attention. "Mate, her boobs are enormous."

"If you want to go home then by all means go home."

"Don't be that way. I don't need long suffering Harry Potter passively aggressively keeping me away from my wife."

"I'm doing nothing of the sort."

"You totally are. It's past two in the morning and there's still no sign of this bloke. Let's call it a night and you can go look for some fetching witch in a pub."

"Ron we're on a stakeout. We don't just get to call it off because we're bored. I've got three other Aurors out there watching this place. I won't have it look like I'm wasting their time."

"Sir, yes sir." Ron even did a little salute with it.

Harry glanced through the flimsy fabric and watched the other Aurors. They were all looking decidedly unlike themselves having all taken a bit of Polyjuice and mixing it with the hair of some poor Muggles from the streets of London. Two of them looked to be getting quite inebriated at a sad looking table in the seedy little pub. The third was wrapped up like a homeless bloke and wedged into a crevice between two buildings.

A lithe looking fellow swaddled in a dark cloak walked past the homeless auror. The man's face was hidden by the voluminous hood of his cloak.

"Look at this guy," Ron muttered, "Dresses like a Malfoy."

Harry had to admit it looked that way. It was all very…dramatic. The flashes of silver from the chain of his cloak and the buckle of his belt, the expensive dark leather gloves and boots detailed with the kind of craftsmanship that only the really wealthy would afford. And that cloak, moving all billowy like a cloud around him as he walked. All he needed was a cane and a house elf to be Draco's distant cousin.

"Ten galleons he's our guy."

"No chance I'm taking that bet."

Sure enough Mr. Dramatic stopped in front of the poor excuse for a pub. He paused. Harry watch the back of the man's head as he turned to look around him, taking in the homeless man and the drunks. He looked back towards the building he and Ron were pressed against. He felt a little movement along his thigh and realized Ron was fingering the handle of his wand. Harry reached out and grabbed his friend's wrist.

The dark man seemed to be satisfied and walked into the pub.

"For a second I thought he was looking right at us," Ron whispered.

Harry didn't want to admit it, but he'd felt the same way. "Come on," he said. Cloak still firmly wrapped around them they followed the man into the pub. The two aurors at the table were getting louder now. Drunkenly singing a drinking song about a well-endowed witch who worked as a milkmaid.

The dark man had moved straight past the barman to take up a heated conversation with another well dressed man. This one was sans cloak, but looked practically as evil. His dark hair was bulled back into a pony tail and his mutton chops were so thick and long they were nearly a beard. His eyes were narrow under a heavy brow and a long nose. But there was one thing keeping him from looking too evil. Sweat beaded at the edge of his widow's peak and his eyes watched the cloak man with…fear? He nodded repeatedly as the other man spoke to him in urgent tones.

Harry and Ron, friends since they were ten, didn't need to even look at one another as they moved forward wrapped in the cloak. They were like minded in an instant and walked with assured and quiet steps. Not a sound from their shoes, not even a flutter from the fabric that so easily hid them from view.

The dark man seemed to have stopped talking and grew very still. Harry and Ron both froze.

Slowly the man turned. It was as though he was staring right through Harry, his eyes bright in the shadow of the cloak, his face hidden from view. An obfuscation charm of some sort. As hard as Harry stared at the man no features beyond the glitter of his eyes were revealed. He couldn't even tell the color of the man's eyes.

The dark man's gloved hand went to the counter and his other fell into the folds of his coat. Ron reached for his own wand ready to draw in an instant.

But then the bar top sprang to life, from greyed unpolished wood to writhing plank. It twisted and pulled against it's moorings. Beer sloshed about its top as wood screamed and pulled from screws.

The Aurors in the corner abruptly stopped their singing and stood, wands out and pointed at the man. His friend stepped back the fear now completely naked on his pale face.

The bar top finally lurched free from the counter and swung wildly in front of the man. Neither Harry or Ron had a chance to duck before they were struck hard by the plank of wood. Both men grunted in surprised as they fell to the floor. Two pairs of boots, caked in the dirt of the street suddenly appeared on the ground. Their cover blown neither man hesitated. The Invisibility Cloak fell away as they stood. Stupefys spewed forth from their wands in the direction of the dark man. Two more sailed past their ears from the Aurors in the corner.

The dark man didn't even flinch just waved his hand and carelessly tossed the spells aside.

His entire body shuddered in place-flickering in and out of existence as he tried to flee. Harry grinned. The Auror on the street had been quick with his anti-Apparating charm. The alleged criminals were stuck.

But none of the men really expected the cloaked man to suddenly charge Harry. Another oomph as he was once more knocked into the floor. The Aurors in the corner cast more spells but the bar top intercepted them as if out to protect the dark man. Ron tried a spell of his own but the dark man's friend had his wand out now and was casting spells of his own. Ron quickly dodged a nasty looking curse and fought back.

The dark man grabbed Harry by the front of his robe and slammed his forcefully into the dirty floor. It wasn't hard enough to hurt exactly, but it was startling enough. Before he could reach out to grabble with the man he was up, his cloak moving just beyond Harry's fingertips.

"Stop him!" he shouted at the Aurors, but the dark man was running now and with a wave of his hand both Aurors were knocked back. Harry scrambled to his feet and gave chase.

#

Back out in the alley the fifth Auror had hidden himself, too busy casting the anti-Apparating charm to properly take part in the fight. Harry was on his own chasing after a man who seemed very at ease with wandless magic.

Only the man wasn't on the street. They were empty, the hour too late for even Knockturn Alley's regulars. The man couldn't have apparated. His Auror was quite good at stopping that sort of thing.

Then a tile slipped from from the roof overhead and gave the dark man away. Harry looked up in time to see the dark man scrambling between chimneys. Harry chased on foot, careful to keep the dark man in his sights. It would have been easier on a broom, but Harry didn't have the time to call one from the Ministry to him.

When the man finally veered out of Harry's sight he cast a quick levitating charm that brought him up onto the roof. The man was now a good three roofs away and moving quickly, spryly leaping from building to building like some sort of superhero, his cloak fluttering behind him in the breeze. Harry picked up speed, his long legs eating up the distance between he and the shorter man. He tried casting a few haphazard curses and charms but the other man just as haphazardly waved his arm and scattered them across the rooftops.

Harry would need something stronger then a stupefy to stop this fellow. "Reducto!" Harry shouted. The spell exploded out of his wand, racing through the night to shatter the tile roof between the dark man's feet. He immediately stopped his hands shooting up into the air in surrender.

Harry paused and tried very hard not to pant like he really wanted to. He could see the other man's form, still despite the chase. If he wasn't out of breath Harry certainly couldn't be.

"Now turn around," he said in his best Auror tone. The man slowly turned, hands still raised. "Throw you wand on the ground and drop the hood."

The man stood still. The air, cold and quick moving on the roof, moved the man's cloak about pulling it away from his body and revealing the lithe form beneath.

"Now."

The man stared back. Then, carefully, he lifted a foot and took a step back.

"Another step and I'll curse you to next Tuesday."

The way the hood of the cloak shifted the man must have tilted his head to the side. Slim shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. Then the man apparated into the night air with not even a pop.

Harry's promised curse flew harmless into a chimney where it sizzled a moment before fading.

Harry didn't move, his wand still out and pointed at nothing, his stance still ready for a duel. He was too mad, irate at himself and the damned over-dresser who'd escaped him.

Heavy steps on the roof behind him caused Harry to turn. It was Ron, as red faced and out of breath as Harry felt. "Where'd he go?"

"Moved beyond the charm."

"We lost him?"

"Could have apparated to France for all we know. What about his friend?"

Ron grinned and pocketed the wand he still had out, "So stupefied his grandchildren will be sleeping. They're taking him back to the ministry now. Figure we can have a good and proper interrogation after we get some sleep."

"Any idea who he is?"

"Oh yeah. Finnegus Moore."

That was a surprise. Moore ran his own little outfit of illicit and illegal magic supplies. He'd always been very careful to avoid the Ministry and his operation was small, small enough and quiet enough that the Ministry tended to turn a blind eye to what he imported and exported.

"What got him out of his little hidey hole?"

"A dark wizard with the ability to bring a bar to life. A bar which is now firewood by the way."

"Looking forward to picking his brain."

Ron's smile dimmed, "Except no sooner was he unconscious then an owl swooped in to inform us that we could not question him without a lawyer present."

"Any bottom feeder we know?"

"Draco Malfoy."

"Yeah. I'll definitely need a good night's rest before that interrogation."

Ron clapped him on the back, "Stiff drink then a good night's rest."