Harry had kind of hoped that after Hogwarts he'd never have to see Draco Malfoy again. But then he'd never expected Malfoy to go into law. When a wizard was as rich as Malfoy had been employment just didn't seem necessary. But Malfoy had gone off and taken courses and now, despite "officially" being a good wizard absolved of his crimes during the war, he worked for the nastiest and meanest wizards in England; making sure they spent as little time as possible in jail. Fortunately Harry's office had few occasions to deal with him. Most Dark Art cases were open and shut.

But Finnegus Moore had been arrested after he attacked Aurors and while in collusion with what was clearly a very dark wizard. So there Harry and Ron sat, in a tiny room across from two men who had no right to dress as nicely as they did. Despite a night in jail Moore looked clean and well rested. His expensive suit and robes were all pressed with not a wrinkle in sight. Malfoy's garments weren't as overtly evil looking. He'd apparently given up dressing in only black and silver and was wearing a dark grey suit with red pinstripes. His blond hair was short, a contrast to his father's very well known long tresses, but he'd apparently stopped shaving at some point (unheard of for a Malfoy man) and had a neatly trimmed beard that was just a few shades darker then his hair.

He smiled warmly at Ron and Harry, trying to use the charm that had kept his entire family out of prison after the War. "Ron, Harry. It's been a while."

"Wish it could have been longer," mumbled Ron.

"I whole heartedly agree Weasley, but alas, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement decided to use their Aurors as some sort of—I can only assume a hit squad—and needlessly attacked my client."

Harry had to be patient, because when it came to Malfoys Ron wouldn't be, and they needed the interview (Malfoy refused to have it referred to as an interrogation) to last more then the time it would take for Ron to punch Draco in his very blond beard.

"Finnegus Moore assaulted four Aurors in the course of their duties."

"After I was attacked first!" Moore shouted.

Malfoy placed a hand on his client's wrist. "Mr. Moore is correct. You fired at him first."

"No," Ron said through a jaw so clenched it was a marvel he could even breathe, "your client was in the company of a dark wizard who attacked four Aurors. Rather then surrender his wand and make it clear he was not involved… or you know, duck, your client attempted to curse me."

"I did no such thing!"

"You tried to turn my head into a pumpkin!"

"Put it in a pumpkin! Very different."

Harry was horrified to realize he just shared a look of annoyance with Draco Malfoy. Malfoy seemed equally irritated and they both reach out to calm the men sitting next to them.

"Your client attacked Aurors," Harry said, "But we don't want to press charges."

Ron looked at him in surprise and Draco raised two perfectly groomed eyebrows. "Then I can only assume you want something," Malfoy said once the shock had warn off. "Because you incarcerated my client last night and you've got us sitting in this awful little room at the moment."

Harry nodded, "We just want to know who you were talking to."

Draco leaned over to confer with his client but Moore leaned in towards Harry and Ron, "I won't tell you."

Both Aurors stared back unflinching. Malfoy gave them an apologetic smile and tugged on Moore's sleeve. "We should discuss this."

"Nothing to discuss. Not saying a word."

"Really it's in your interest to make a deal."

"Why? You'll get me off." Ron chuckled and Moore sneered. "Perv," he muttered.

If he hadn't been in the room he was positive Ron and Moore would have just spent the next two hours calling each other names like a bunch of six year olds. Harry said confidently, "No he won't."

Finnegus Moore looked from the Auror who sat there with a smug expression on his face, to his lawyer who watched him carefully, "what's he talking about?"

"You weren't arrested by a Department lackey. You were arrested by a squad of Aurors personally led by the head Auror. A man who defeated Voldemort and consequently has quite a bit of goodwill from the Wizengamot."

Moore glanced over at Draco as if for confirmation. He shrugged and Ron grinned a bit too widely to be polite.

"You don't understand. I can't tell you."

"He's got you under a spell then?" Ron asked. He looked at Harry, "Isn't it always the way?"

Moore shook his head, "I don't know who he is."

Ron was intrigued, apparently to the point that he'd forgotten to be annoyed that Malfoy was in his presence. He leaned across the table. "I know quite a bit about you Finnegus. Clever for a man who makes his living in the most illegal manners possible. What would possess you to take a meeting with a man without even knowing his name."

Moore was looking a bit nervous. His pale skin was a little glossy with oil and sweat and his eyes looked too watery. "This guy had friends. You understand? He was," he paused in search of just the right word, "connected. Could connect me. I got a line on a chance to meet him and I took it. Business is getting rougher all the time and it would have been good business."

"Only it wasn't."

"I don't know how you lot knew about it, but he was on to you the minute he walked in the pub. Accused me of setting him up. But I didn't."

"Any idea who did?"

He shook his head, "I wish I knew. Because he's out and about and ready to kill me and I'm stuck in this dank little room."

Ron nodded, "And he probably thinks you're an informant. Telling us everything you know."

Malfoy looked from his client to Ron who was still smiling, enjoying the way Moore squirmed. "Looks like we're done, wouldn't you agree?"

Ron and Harry shared a look and Harry nodded, "Mr. Moore is free to go."

#

Outside the "interview" room Malfoy spoke with Moore a few moments before sending the man back home. He then turned to Harry and Ron who waited patiently next to a table with a self-replenishing tea pot. Ron had poured a rather large cup and proceeded to add enough milk and sugar to ruin any of the beneficial properties of the drink.

Malfoy approached them with a thoughtful expression on his shrewd little face.

"You'll both have to understand that I must be tremendously vague with what I'm saying?"

Harry nodded and Ron loudly sipped his tea.

"I don't know details but I've heard things from clients. Things that suggest an organization that's previously avoided England has found its way here."

That much Harry and Ron had suspected. Their "informant" via owl had been extraordinarily vague but the men weren't stupid.

"This organization is very," Malfoy sighed in an effort to stall as he looked for the right words, "connected."

"That's what Moore said," Ron noted, "You were there. Remember Malfoy?"

"They're dangerous Weasley. Maybe no one as powerful as Voldemort was, but they're organized, passionate and absurdly rational. That's an awful combination for law abiding citizens such as myself."

Harry asked quietly, "Why are you telling us this."

Draco looked at him chewing over his words, conscious of the fact that their conversation was hardly confidential. "I've got a son and a wife. I love them dearly." Ron snorted. "And these men are dangerous." He laughed a little, amused at his own thoughts, "You knowI don't think I'd even represent them if given the chance."

Ron set his cup down next to the tea pot and crossed his arms appraising the shorter man, "Putting yourself at a risk aren't you Malfoy? Badmouthing some big dark arts group?"

Malfoy stuck Ron with a cool gaze. "During the war? My wife was a Slytherin but she in that last battle she didn't join them. She knew her place was with the rest of Hogwarts. She's amazing and noble," he smiled. Even now a smile on Draco Malfoy's face was a disconcerting thing to see. It reminded Harry of school. Of Albus Dumbledore being struck dead. Draco continued, "How can I be married to an amazing and noble woman if I'm not willing to be as amazing and noble. I'm telling you this for her."

Ron was too shocked by such an honest and agreeable admission from Malfoy to properly respond, so Harry thanked him for his time and escorted him out of the Department. When he returned Ron was still standing there chewing his lower lip and staring into space.

Harry waved a hand in front of his friend's face. "You all right?"

"The way I see it the world's got to be coming to an end."

"Because Malfoy seemed honest?"

"Because Malfoy wanted to do something good without a wand pointed at his head." Harry smiled but it clearly wasn't as affable as Ron would have liked. "What's up?"

The smile disappeared completely. "Malfoy said something before he left."

"Seeing as you look like you'd rather eat one of my socks then tell me I have to assume it's bad."

"He gave me a name. Someone we should talk to."

A dark look flit across Ron's face as apprehension took hold. "Who?"

Harry didn't want to say. He knew he had to. Knew it the moment Malfoy uttered the name. The Weasleys were like any wizarding family from the war. They'd lost more then one loved one to the curse of a Death Eater. But the Weasleys were Harry's family. Their losses, like his own, weren't just statistics for the history books. And Fred's death especially so. George didn't joke as easily as he once did. Percy wasn't as condescending and Harry had woken up more then once in the night to the sound of Ginny's tears.

But he had to tell Ron. Had to scratch at a wound that would never heal. Had to poke and prod. He was grateful, at least, for Draco Malfoy. The barrister had elected to tell Harry the name outside of Ron's earshot. He might still have been a bastard but at least he'd shown a little grace.

"Augustus Rookwood."

Ron had a nasty temper and had had one as long as Harry'd known him. So he'd expected a bit of anger at it all. And for a second it looked like Ron would go on a tear cursing Rookwood, the Ministry and perhaps God himself. But grief is a funny thing. And as quick as Ron was to anger in an instance he was just as quickly moved to melancholy. His face fell a little as the implications of the name went through his mind.

Finally, "Harry mate, I don't think I'm up to that interview today," he said softly.

Harry didn't point out that it was barely ten and the case was their top priority.

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry cringed, the shrill note of the speaker's voice more irritating then being referred to as mister. He turned to find Bonnie Salander running down the hallway towards him quite red in the face. She was a tiny thing. Barely five feet tall, and young. Harry didn't remember ever being that young. Barely out of Hogwarts she'd blown through coursework in the general Department and quickly applied for a position as Auror. Harry and her supervisor in general had agreed to give it a year. Now still not twenty the little blond headed girl was his youngest Auror, and working very hard to be his most passionate. She was a font of information that had Ron calling her Baby Hermione behind her back. The other Aurors, not having the privilege of knowing Hermione called her Baby Auror. And she let them.

"Mr. Potter! I need—" She stopped and stared at Ron then turned back to Harry, "I need to speak with you alone."

Ron was still mulling over the news about Rookwood, so Harry gave her the confused look instead. "What's the trouble Salander?"

"If we could…" She motioned to a point far away from Ron. He seemed to notice she was standing there and waved them both off.

"It's all right. I've got some work to do in the bullpen anyways."

Ron clapped Harry on the back and left, but not before making faces behind the oblivious baby's back. When he was out of earshot Harry asked, "All right Salander. What's so critical you had to come screeching through the halls of the Department."

"I saw something sir. Something you—" and she was very emphatic about this next part, "need to know about."