Well, here's the next chapter! I don't really have much to say. This is still during the two week period before the events in the prologue. I hope you guys enjoy!

Although all three members of the Golden Trio worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, only Ron and Harry worked in the Auror Office. Once the elevator stopped on their floor, the three stepped out and soon separated. Ron went off to his cubicle, but Harry decided to follow Hermione to hers. After all, the meeting place would be in his office and he didn't have much to pack anyway. He was also curious to see what his best friend would be packing.

He knew she was fully capable of preparing for a mission by herself―she was the one who packed all that they needed before they went off to find the horcruxes; but there was nothing wrong in lending a hand, right? As the two entered her office, which was unsurprisingly neat and organized, Harry spotted a big round ball of orange fur on the top of her desk.

"Hermione? Is that Crookshanks?" He asked as he pointed at the cat. He hadn't seen the reliable pet ever since they left the Burrow to hunt for the horcruxes. He thought that Crookshanks had just left and went along his business. Hermione placed her beaded bag next to her pet before she turned to look at Harry.

"Yes. Why do you sound so surprised?" she countered as she picked up her dear cat and nuzzled her cheek to his fur.

"It's just…I haven't seen him since. I thought he went off somewhere. Did you find him?"

"As a matter of fact, no I did not. A week ago, when I got back to my flat after work, I saw him sleeping soundly on the couch. It seems like he knew where to find me!" She scratched behind his ear as he purred in delight. "Clever little cat, aren't you? I'm debating on whether or not to take him." Harry raised a brow. "Oh don't give me that look Harry! Crookshanks is half-Kneazle."

Harry remained silent. Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "You've forgotten what was written in 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' haven't you?"

"Er, maybe?" Harry scratched the back of his head. Learning about beasts was an interesting topic in school, and Hagrid had done brilliantly for the most part, but there were just some beasts that didn't quite catch his attention.

"Kneazles are independent and intelligent cat-like creatures. They're known for their uncanny ability to detect suspicious characters. They can also be relied upon to guide their owners home. I thought that by taking him, he'd be able to guide us back, should we get lost," she recited perfectly.

Harry nodded in understanding and said, "He knew about Pettigrew and helped Sirius into the castle." Hermione beamed with pride. He sighed in defeat, "Well, since you put it that way…I suppose he could follow. Problem is, how're you going to bring him along?"

"I've thought about that," Hermione's face fell slightly as she placed Crookshanks back onto the desk. "I've considered shrinking or transfiguring him, but I couldn't possibly do that." She stroked his fur. "I suppose I'll ask Ginny to watch over him. She loves cats, and Crookshanks is also quite fond of her." The half-kneazle purred in approval.

"Some other time then?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded and turned to her massive bookshelf. The bookshelf could've been an office-sized edition of the Hogwarts Library. Its height was from floor to ceiling and to get the right books, Hermione had to use a ladder to thoroughly look through her collection.

"Kingsley said that the area would be near a wizarding village, so…ah! Here it is," she said as she traced her finger over the many spines. She stopped on a thick green book and pulled it out. "This book has all the wizarding villages found in England, so we should be able to narrow down our search with this. It also has a bit of information and history on each place."

"Well, throw it here." Harry shrugged and held out his hands while steadying himself. Hermione however, looked hesitant.

"Are you sure you'll catch it?"

"Hermione, I was the Gryffindor Seeker. I'm confident I can catch it," Harry winked teasingly. Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know how much your books mean to you. If it gets damaged, I promise I'll get you a new one, the latest edition even. Besides, knowing you, you still need to look for other books. Just throw them here so you won't have your arms full."

"You do know that a snitch is about the size of a walnut, and not a five pound book, right?" Hermione reminded him as she tossed her book.

Harry managed to catch the book successfully. "Anymore books to bring?" He asked as he placed the book onto her desk and turned to look back at her.

"Just one more. I've already packed my other books. Let's see, it would help if we brought the book on wandlore…there!" She said as she spotted the right one. It was fairly thick, but not as thick as the first. It was a deep blue with silver gilt vines on its spine. "I can handle this one, Harry."

After ensuring that all the necessary equipment was packed into the small beaded bag, and contacting Ginny to pick up Crookshanks, the two made their way back to Harry's office. Hermione told him that he needn't have had to help her pack, but she thanked him all the same. Harry assured her that it was no problem and that he was just glad to help. It was nice to see Crookshanks as well. As the two entered Harry's office, they were met with the sight of Draco Malfoy sitting leisurely on Harry's chair, with his legs propped up on the desk.

"Took you long enough," Draco drawled as he looked at the two. He caught Harry's glare, an expression that showed the hero's disdain at having the ferret's feet on his desk. Draco merely shrugged and placed his feet back onto the floor while reclining comfortably into the chair. Harry's glare did not falter.

"It's good that you're punctual, but exactly why are you acting so comfortably in my office?"

"You said to meet you in your office in thirty minutes. It's been twenty since we last met. No one was in here anyway. If I was to wait on you three for the next ten minutes I might as well make myself comfortable."

Sensing the rising tension between the two former rivals, Hermione decided to change the subject. "So do you have everything you need, Malfoy?"

"Yes, Granger." He patted the left side of his chest. "I packed everything into a small pouch." Indeed, with closer inspection, there was a rather small lump on his black blazer; no doubt made from the pouch in his inner breast pocket. Hermione looked interested.

"Extension charm?"

Draco nodded. Harry, not wanting to waste any more time glaring at the other male present in the room, decided to resume his own packing.

He walked over to a cabinet on the right side of the office and retrieved a rucksack filled with spare clothes. Missions that required a few days or weeks time were not uncommon within the Auror Office, so Harry ensured to always have a set of spare clothes within the confines of his office. After all, those missions usually called for immediate departure. Opening the other cabinet door, he took a sleeping bag and a few bottles of magical health supplements, courtesy of St. Mungo's, and stuffed them into the rucksack. He turned to Hermione, who smiled knowingly, and stretched out her arms that held her beaded bag open. Harry went to her and placed his belongings inside.

Ron came in a few seconds later with his own bag. He turned to Hermione and casually stuffed his belongings into the beaded bag. Meanwhile, Draco looked at the scene with mild interest. "Isn't it common courtesy for the gentleman to hold the baggage?"

"As if you would know anything about common courtesy," Ron muttered under his breath. He turned serious almost instantly. "Right, Kingsley said that the area our target is in is near a wizarding village north of here."

Hermione had already taken out her book and started skimming through it. "I've narrowed down our search to four areas: Appleby, Barnton, Ilkley, and Upper Flagley. Where should we check first?"

"Well, whoever we're looking for should obviously be associated with a wandmaker. Even with Memory Charms, it's too risky to be making wands with Muggles all around the neighborhood. Upper Flagley's out of the question." Draco decided.

"Why don't we check Appleby?" suggested Harry.

"That's the hometown of the Appleby Arrows! You don't actually support them, do you mate?" Ron asked in an accusing manner; the seriousness about the mission thrown out the window. "Just because the Chudley Cannons lost to them in 1998 doesn't mean they're all that great. Besides, the Cannons have been making a great comeback!"

Draco snorted. "I agree that the Arrows aren't that great, but seventh place in the league is better than eleventh. The Cannon's Seeker was pretty pathetic. It probably made things easier for the Arrows―not that it was needed."

"Oh sod off Malfoy. You agree with me, right Harry?"

"Well," Harry scratched the back of his head. "Gudgeon did perform rather pathetically."

Hermione snapped her book shut. "What is wrong with the three of you? We're supposed to be going on a mission that could once again pose a threat to the magical world, as well as possibly jeopardize a child's life! And all you three can discuss is Quidditch, of all things? Just pick a village so we can be on our way!"

"Ilkley, then," the three men chorused as they stiffened.

"Good," Hermione huffed as she placed her book back inside her beaded bag. "They have an inn there, and it's already mid-afternoon. I'll contact them and book a reservation. We can get there using the Floo network." She stood to leave and once the door was closed, the three men looked to one another.

"D'you think she saw the part about Ilkley Moor?" Harry wondered.

"You mean the part about the Quidditch Stadium? Hope not," Draco frowned.

"Either way, best not to mention it to her at all. Well, shall we go?" Ron asked as he stepped closer to the door and held it open. Draco got up from his comfortable position on Harry's leather chair and strode out into the hall. Making sure everything in his office was in order, Harry followed suit, nodding to Ron along the way. Ron closed the door with a small click and Harry pointed his wand towards the knob.

"Colloportus," Harry murmured. For extra measure, he cast another spell on the door to ensure no one can enter his office but him―even with magic.

"Paranoid Skeeter's going to sneak into your office?" Ron chuckled.

"Shut up."

The four 21-year olds made it to the fireplace. Right before they were going to step into the bright green flames, Ron turned to Hermione and piped up, "You still got me and Harry's brooms in your bag, Mione?"

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the redhead. "Yes, why?"

"Well, I thought it'd be a good idea to circle the area tomorrow. You know, get a bird's eye view? That way it'd be easier to find the kid we're looking for." Ron shrugged. After being friends with Ron for so long, Harry knew that there was a hidden motive to the ginger's words. It was then that he realized that by flying around, they'd be able to look for the child as well as be able to catch glimpses of the Quidditch matches going on, if they were close enough to the stadium. Who said you couldn't enjoy yourself while working? Ron's plan would be able to hit two birds with one stone.

"Smart move, Ron!" Harry thought as he glanced to his left and saw Malfoy with raised eyebrows. Obviously he was thinking the same thing. Hermione looked slightly impressed with the idea, but her eyes remained skeptic.

"I suppose. Yes, that seems to be a good idea Ron." She turned to Malfoy. "Do you have your broom as well, Malfoy?"

Draco scoffed. "I always bring it with me. You never know when it may come in handy." Hermione left it at that and stepped into the fire. Next went Harry, and then Draco, then lastly Ron. Once through, they stood in a lounge filled with a soft, orange glow. The room was nothing too fancy, but it was comfortable and homely. The manager was a short, plump, middle-aged witch. She rushed to their side, a bright smile on her face.

"Oh! You must be Hermione Granger…and these must be your companions." She craned her neck to look behind Hermione. "My oh my, what handsome young men. So, which one's your boyfriend?" the elderly witch said in a hushed tone and winked at her. Hermione blushed a soft red.

"W-What? Oh, n-no. I'm sorry, but neither one of them is my boyfriend. Well, the redhead was, but that was a few years back. We're more like siblings now. Er, I'm single, actually," Hermione rambled. She offered the plump woman a smile, but it was obviously an awkward one.

"Really? I could've sworn that one of them was, what with the way he was looking at you." The old witch had a soft look in her eyes. Hermione whipped her head quickly to look at the three men behind her. All three were looking around the lounge, apparently not having heard a thing the women were talking about. The manager tugged on Hermione's sleeve and gestured for her to bend down to her level. Hermione obliged and the woman whispered giddily into her ear.

"Well, if you were to choose, I'd suggest you go for the blonde. He may seem so uptight at first glance, but just imagine the passion being locked up!" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Hermione jerked back, shocked at the woman's boldness. She could feel her cheeks getting warmer by the second. "The bespectacled one seems like a nice choice, as well. When I was your age, we girls quite fancied that type: messy hair, striking eyes, and that selfless and all-around-good-guy air." She sighed dreamily, "Looking at you dearie, I'm sure you're bound to be off the market in no time."

Hermione cleared her throat. "Thank you, uh," Hermione glanced at the manager's nametag, "Mrs. Wickett for your lovely advice. May I have the keys to our rooms?" Mrs. Wickett waved her hand in a dismissive manner.

"Please, call me Miranda," She said with a smile. As she dug into her apron's pocket, she looked at Hermione in an almost apologetic manner. "I'm sorry, but it seems that we only have three rooms left. It's up to you and your companions to decide the sleeping arrangements." And with that, she placed the three keys in Hermione's open palm and left to attend to her other customers. Hermione made her way towards the lounge chairs where her teammates sat.

"Blimey Herms, what happened to your face?" Ron asked in a worried yet amused tone. Hermione's eyebrows shot up. She grabbed her face and realized that she was still blushing.

She coughed quickly and said in a stern voice, "It's nothing." Her blush soon receded. Harry looked at the hand that wasn't covering her face and noticed only three keys.

"Mione, why are you holding only three keys?" Harry asked. Draco leaned forward, a perplexed look on his face as he too got a clear view of the contents in her free hand.

"Well, Mrs. Wickett said that there were only three rooms left. It looks like two of us will have to share." Hermione said as she looked away from them.

Malfoy groaned. "Well then, I call the bed Granger. Between the three of you, you seem like the more appropriate choice."

"Oi! Who said that you were gonna share a room with Mione?" Ron shouted as he stood up. Hermione tried to shush him; he was making too much of a scene. Mrs. Wickett glanced in their direction and tried to stifle a girlish giggle.

"Obviously, I can't share a room with you or Potthead. Unlike you, Weaselbee, I'm not a homosexual." Draco smirked in satisfaction as Ron's ears started to turn a violent shade of crimson. "Besides, if I had a room to myself, which wouldn't be any trouble, I'd be more at risk for one of you to sneak in and do who knows what to me!"

"That's enough!" Harry ordered. He rubbed his temples. "No one and nothing would even try to rape you, Malfoy. They'd run for the hills once they got a good look at you." Malfoy glared while the other two snickered in the background. "Seeing as Hermione's a girl, she should get a room to herself." Hermione shot him a grateful look and placed the other two keys on the table.

"To make things fair, the three of us can play 'rock, paper, scissors' to decide who gets a room and who shares. Winner gets the room."

"The hell is 'rock, paper, scissors'?" Draco demanded.

"It's a simple muggle game that uses three different hand signs. If you make a fist, it means rock. An open hand means paper and well, I'm sure you know how scissors look like. You have to choose one out of the three hand signs and show it simultaneously with your opponents. The rules are simple: rock beats scissors, paper beats rock, and scissors beats paper. Hermione and I will show you two how." Harry faced Hermione and the two proceeded with the game.

They chorused together while shaking their fists, "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!" Hermione won, having beaten Harry's paper with scissors.

"Huh, seems simple enough." Ron nodded.

"This is stupid. Muggles don't know how to have much fun, do they? Why can't we just duel like the wizards we are?"

"Because something would inevitably break if we did. 'Rock, paper, scissors' is anyone's game. It's all about luck." Harry countered.

"If it's any consolation, it's also known as a form of psychological and observational game. You may be able to predict your opponent's hand sign based on his movement or pose. Also, a tense person would usually use rock, or use paper when relaxed or confident that he or she wouldn't lose."

"Look, can we just start the game already?" Ron interrupted. Draco, Ron, and Harry held out their fists and started their game. All three chose different hand signs.

"HA! Scissors beats paper, Potter."

"Not so fast, ferret. My rock beats scissors."

"No one won! Each of our hand signs cancels the other. We need to do another round." The second round commenced and ended with Ron as the victor. He grinned while showing off his 'scissors'.

"You were a second late Weasel."

"No I wasn't. You're just delusional because I won."

"Fine. You used a Confundus charm on us."

"WHAT! Harry, tell Malfoy he's being delusional and a sore loser."

Harry glared in response. "…Best two out of three."

"You're both off your knockers, right Mione?" As Ron turned to face their female best friend, all three were surprised to see that she was nowhere in sight. A second later, they heard a door close shut. The three men looked at one another once more. Ron flicked his wand at the key and caught it before Harry or Draco could reach for it. He hightailed right out of the lobby and called back from over his shoulder, "See you two at dinner!"

The former rivals groaned in unison. Harry grabbed the key and left with Draco to 'their' room. They climbed up the stairs and along the corridor, side by side, shoving each other throughout the walk.

"As I said with Granger, I call the bed Potter."

"How about we both sleep on a bed, seeing as we both have no intention of sleeping on the floor?" Harry suggested as he pulled out his wand. Draco, however, looked appalled.

"Perhaps I was wrong Potter. Weaselbee isn't the homosexual after all."

"I meant we should magically split the bed! It's a queen-sized bed anyway. We'll just put it back together when we leave."

"You mean you will put it back together when we leave. After all, it was your idea." Draco shrugged. Harry glared daggers at the Malfoy heir for the umpteenth time that day. Seeing as it was late and glaring would only increase his exhaustion, he flicked his wand so the two beds would split equally. However, there was a slight problem: the beds fused back together as soon as they split. Harry flicked his wand again, only to have the same result occur. Draco pushed him aside and pulled out his wand.

"Your wrist movement is off. Let me do it." Draco swished his wand, but his actions resulted in the same way as Harry's. Both he and Harry combined their efforts in trying to split the bed, but with each effort the bed got increasingly harder to split until it would not budge at all. "The bloody hell is wrong with this bed?"

During the whole ordeal, Harry had been gripping the key, leaving an imprint on the palm of his left hand. As his grip loosened to release the tension, his eyes widened in horror as he stared down at the key. "Oh shit."

"What?"

"According to this keychain, this is a room for couples." Harry said as he threw the key towards Draco. He made his way to the bedside table and picked up a pamphlet and started to skim it. "Seeing as the room is for couples, the bed is charmed so that it won't be separated or split."

"Why is that?" Draco asked as he reached for a pamphlet on the other table.

"Well, this is also a sort of therapeutic room, where 'petty spats will soon amend, so lovers' quarrel shall meet its end'." Harry looked at the pamphlet as though it were a death sentence. His skin tone was starting to develop a greenish hue.

"So if a couple were to sleep in here, bicker and decide to separate the bed since there's no couch and no one would want to sleep on the floor, the bed fixes itself so as to force the angry couple to sleep next to each other?" Malfoy said through clenched teeth. Harry nodded grimly. Two seconds had passed when the two men bolted straight for the door. As they pushed and shoved each other once more in trying to twist the knob, a force swept them off their feet and managed to make them land on the bed, laying flat on their backs side by side.

"And this is where I hate magic." Harry growled.

"Just shut up, Potter."

I was planning on adding a bit more, but I suppose this is long enough. I noticed that for the last two chapters, Harry has been the one that gets the last word, er, dialogue. So, I decided to let Malfoy end this chapter. Suggestions (if any) will be put into consideration.