Hello and welcome back, we're up to chapter eleven now with two possibly three chapters left. I know that the last chapter kicked up a few questions, and there won't be many answers in this one yet I'm afraid. Stick with me, we're nearly there.

Thank you to those lovely people who continue to support this story... I will try to get the final two chapters posted next weekend, but I'm struggling a bit with the denouement so bear with me if I'm a bit late. Especial thanks to those who take the trouble to post reviews - positive and/or constructive comments are always welcome. Posting to tell me the story is rubbish and you're not going to read any more is not constructive however and will be deleted immediately.

WARNING - THINGS GET CONSIDERABLY DARKER FROM THIS POINT FORWARD - POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING FOR THE END OF THE CHAPTER. CAUTION IS ADVISED.

In which our two heroes are feeling a little fragile, and poor Natasha is having a very rough day...

Merrick x

Unconscious had been much better thought Tash blearily. She and Harry had been back in their room on the Isle of Avalon... perhaps if she closed her eyes she could get back there, if only she could get the people nearby to shut up...

"I still think we should have just killed her"

"And that's why you're not paid to think and I am. Potter is the only one that can find what we're looking for, and to keep him on track we need leverage. That girl is leverage."

"That girl as you call her is one of the most dangerous women in the world. Natasha Romanoff aka Natalia Romanova aka the Black Widow, one of the Avengers, Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Ring any bells with you? Don't let those big blue eyes deceive you. Give her an inch and she'll kill us all without a second thought."

"I admit it would have been better if we could have taken Granger, but she wasn't an option. Snatching her from the heart of the magical world would have shown our hand. At the moment there are suspicions of my existence. If I were to have taken Granger it would confirm everything that they fear is true…"

As long as she lay very still the pain was bearable, but even the slightest movement sent arrows of agony through her face and skull. Concussion definitely – maybe a couple of hairline fractures, but nothing that wouldn't heal. No, it was the concussion that was a bitch, waves of pain and nausea hitting her with every turn of her head.

She was lying on her side, arms tightly shackled behind her back to what felt like a ring at the base of a stone wall, looking down she realised her her feet were similarly secured to the floor by modern looking metal cuffs. Her current position meant that the edge of the cuffs dug painfully into her ankles. The floor was damp, and the chill was slowly but surely creeping through her clothing, making her shiver. Natasha ruthlessly disassociated herself from the pain, to focus on the voices. One male, older, New Jersey accent – Donnelly. She cursed under her breath, she had hoped that he had been one of the heavies she had killed in the garden. The other younger, undoubtedly female and definitely in charge, from her words, was possibly Araposa. Now what? Where was Harry? Was he already dead? Natasha was stunned at the pain that that thought caused her, something she didn't want to consider too much at that moment. No, they were talking about Harry finding the book and the staff, of using her as leverage.

Ergo he was still alive. And from the sound of it, free.

If Harry was alive and out there somewhere, there was still a chance. All she had to do was bide her time and await her moment. But in the meantime – she needed to get out of these damn shackles…

ooo0ooo

Harry put Natasha's mobile back onto his bedside table and stared at it thoughtfully, unaware that Hermione was awake and watching him.

"Harry? How are you feeling?"

Harry started at the sound of her voice, then winced at the pain produced by the sudden movement. "Do you remember George's stag night. The one where we nearly got arrested?"

Hermione pulled a face. "Vividly. You all decided that it would be a really good idea to come and see me on the way home – at four in the morning… I had company… and that arse Ron Weasley managed to ahh… be very ill on my doormat."

"Well you remember how awful we all felt when you turned up for a revenge visit at eight in the morning"

Hermione chuckled evilly. "Oh yes. It's one of my very favourite memories."

"Well this is worse. Much, much worse than that."

Her smile slipped and she winced sympathetically. "Oh dear. It seems someone must have hit you very hard indeed. According to the muggle hospital you ended up in it was going to take ages for you to recover normally. Don't try and sit up, I'll call a healer, ask for a pain potion for you."

Their voices must have awoken Draco with a start if the neck cracking jerk with which he sat up was any indication. "Ah! Harry. Welcome back. Talk about causing chaos… We had to arrange a full scale extraction – save you from medieval muggle torture."

Harry squinted, wondering whether he was still dreaming. "Medieval…. what?"

Hermione laughed. "Draco was horrified to find that you might have to have surgery on your skull. The fundamentals of non-magical medicine are a bit basic for Draco's delicate stomach".

With a forbidding scowl at Hermione Draco headed for the door. "I have to floo call Kingsley, Merlin forbid I find him in his pyjamas. Don't ask him anything important until I come back Hermione"

He slipped out, closing the door a little loudly for Harry's sore head. Hermione's eye was caught by the sleek phone on the bedside table and frowned remembering Harry's conversation.

"Who were you talking to just now? That isn't your phone"

"No"

"So who were you talking to?"

He smiled weakly. "I don't think you'd believe me if I told you"

"Harry?"

He may have faced Dementors, Basilisks, Dark Lords, Death Eaters and Dragons… but when it came to Hermione Granger, Harry was a complete wimp. Wincing at her glare he caved immediately.

"Iron Man"

Her glare darkened. "Very funny Harry"

"No… seriously. Iron Man – Tony Stark. The inventor or mad scientist or whatever you want to call him"

Hermione sniffed disapprovingly. "How about arrogant egotistical megalomaniac if only half of what I read is true"

"Oh dear. You're not a fan?"

She shook her head disapprovingly. "No, he really isn't my type. I prefer someone with more… substance." Her eyes took on a slightly glazed look… "Now if you'd said Steve Rogers…."

"Captain America - really? You're a cheerleader huh... I never pegged you as the jock type"

Hermione huffed irritably. "Not Captain America Harry. Steve Rogers. The little guy who had nothing going for him, who was given it all but never lost his soul" She sighed. "Although the blue eyes and gorgeous blonde hair doesn't hurt …"

Harry grinned, in spite of the steam hammer pounding on the back of his skull. "Who is this fangirl and what has she done with Hermione Granger – I never knew you had a thing for blondes…"

It was just really bad luck that Draco should choose exactly that moment to walk back into the room… His eyebrows shot up, catching the tail end of Harry's words… Hermione blushed rosily, examining Harry's backpack as though she'd never seen anything so fascinating... Draco cleared his throat, equally interested in a crack in the ceiling. Harry watched the uncomfortable pair and smiled knowingly. Well, they would have to work it out between them. Right now he had to foil the bad guys and save his girl…the girl, he corrected himself. Somehow he couldn't imagine Tash as a damsel in distress. Wherever she was, he hoped she was giving them hell. He looked ruefully down at his muggle hospital gown, with its open back – whatever he was going to be doing it needed to be soon, before all hell broke loose, and he was definitely going to need his clothes.

Seeing Kingsley speaking to the Healer in the lobby outside Harry saw his moment. "Can you brief the boss please Hermione. I just need a few minutes. To be honest I'd rather not speak to Kingsley with my behind flapping in the wind."

Still a little flustered, Hermione shot Harry a grateful look before hurrying to the door. With a smile that was verging on fond, Draco closed the door behind her, closing the curtain over the observation panel to give Harry privacy.

Turning back, Draco looked at Harry in disapproval. "Harry, I appreciate that you're fixed". His fingers sketched quotes around the word... "but that doesn't mean you're better. You need a couple of days at least until you're fit to be back on light duty"

But Harry was halfway out of his bed, reaching for jeans, wincing as the pressure in his head increased as he bent to pick them out of his bag. "I have to go Draco. Merlin knows I could use some backup, but with or without you, I have to go."

Harry lurched as he stood up too quickly, his vision spinning sickeningly. Draco darted forward, catching his shoulders, waiting for him to steady. "You see, you're as weak as a kitten. Look, just brief me, and I'll get the squad onto it – just the old hands if you'd rather."

Harry still had his eyes closed tightly - from the strain in his face, Draco suspected he was still in considerable pain. "I can't Draco... I can't... they have her. There was only four of them, we knew there was a chance of an ambush, and they still caught us on the hop. It should never have happened."

"Wizards?"

"No. Three muggles, one wizard. I choked Draco. For the first time since… I don't know. I choked. She was happily kicking the shit out of two guys twice her size and I just… seized. All I could do was watch her instead of pulling my finger out of my…. Now they have her and it's down to me."

The light dawned. "Ah... I see." Thin strong hands pushed Harry back onto the side of the bed, the mattress dipping as Draco sat down beside him.

"Who do they have Harry...? What is all this about."

Tired green eyes met his as Harry finally looked up. "I'll tell you everything I promise. But we can't just sit here talking all night. Kingsley and Hermione will be back in a minute and we'll be screwed. Look I could really use your help, but it's up to you. Are you with me on this or not?"

There was no question. Rising Draco handed him his bag. "Where are we going?"

"First stop, home, I need to use my computer." Harry looked up at Draco, weariness and pain etched clear across his face. "Would you mind giving me a lift. If you don't want to come any further with me I'll quite understand, but I don't think I'm quite ready to apparate myself yet – at least, not if I want to end up all in one piece"

Surprise flickered across Draco's face. In all the years he had known this man who was now his colleague, boss and friend, he, Draco, had never, ever known Harry to willingly acknowledge weakness so easily. Holding out his hand he grinned knowingly. "I am assuming that you would rather keep Kingsley, and further official complications out of this… you're asking me to go – what's that muggle expression – off the grid, with you?"

Harry smiled back, taking Draco's hand. "Something like that. Thank you Draco…"

Outside the room, Hermione broke off mid-sentence, looking at Kingsley in consternation, as a sharp crack heralded their departure.

ooo0ooo

The moment that they arrived in Harry's library, every light in the house started flashing.

Assuming an attack, Draco was instantly on the alert, but Harry simply smiled ruefully, and silenced his wards with a wave of his wand and a muttered charm.

"What the fuck was that about"

Draco rarely used muggle curses, and never failed to make Harry smile when he did. There was something about such crude language being delivered in Draco's languid drawl that never failed to amuse him – no matter how serious the situation. First things first, Harry headed for the kitchen in search of coffee, Draco following, wand still in hand.

"Relax Draco. The wards picked up the tracking spell that they put on me while I was unconscious. It's fine."

"You knew about the spell, and did nothing to remove it?"

Harry flicked the button on the kettle, rummaging for tea in the back of his cupboard. "Of course not. They have to be able to keep track of me. Eventually they will want to exchange the book and the staff for Natasha. How will they be able to do that if they can't find me." He gave a small triumphant cry as he finally located a box of Earl Grey tea at the back of the cupboard, sniffing tentatively. "Earl Grey Draco?"

Draco eyed the box, did a swift mental calculation as to its likely age and shook his head. "Under the circumstances, I think coffee may be in order… even if it is instant…." As the kettle hissed in the corner, he perched on one of Harry's kitchen chairs.

"So come on then Harry… spill. What the hell is going on? Who is this woman, and what is all this about?"

As Harry made their coffee he told him about the message from Kinsley, about SHIELD, HYDRA and Caron's message. By the time the coffee was on the table Draco was hooked. "So this woman you're working with is…?"

"Natasha"

"So do I know this Natasha?"

Harry laughed harshly and shook his head, wincing as he did so. "No Draco, you don't know her. She's an American muggle agent that I've been working with"

"You've been working with a muggle! This is Kingsley's mission?" He eyed the dejected slump of Harry's shoulders narrowly. "Harry... is there something I ought to know?"

Harry shrugged, with a wry chuckle. "Do you have a muggle phone Draco?"

"You know I do"

"Google her. Natasha Romanoff – two F's"

Draco looked down at the images from the Battle of New York, at the beautiful redhead in the skintight black catsuit, armed to the teeth and kicking seven shades out of some seriously unpleasant looking aliens... "That is Natasha? You lucky bastard Potter, you always did have a weakness where redheads are concerned. So you and she are..."

"Leave it Draco... just... I have to get her back. She's tough as they come and twice as lethal as anyone I've ever met before, but the one that took her apparated her. This is not her world Draco, she doesn't know it, doesn't understand it. It would be like dropping you into muggle New York when you were seventeen. She's clever and resourceful and she's as tough as all hell, but she's a fish out of water."

"And you… care for her…?"

Harry's face closed. "That's not the issue Draco"

Draco nodded. "No it isn't. But I need to know what I'm dealing with. Is this a case to you, or is this you running off, saving the world and rescuing the damsel in distress."

Even in his weakened state, Harry had to laugh. "I tell you what Malfoy… when we find her I'll tell her what you just said – then you'll be the damsel in distress, and if you're really lucky I may even come and save you from her…" He rose stiffly from the chair, giving himself a moment to steady. "Come on. I need some muggle technology."

ooo0ooo

A few minutes later, Harry took a swig of coffee, sweeter than he would normally drink it, but gods knew he needed the energy; and waited for his computer to boot up, while Draco studied the papers that Annabelle Lee had given them. When he had finished, he looked up, grey eyes wide.

"So the staff and the book that you mentioned really…?"

"…. belonged to Merlin, yes. We found the reference in Branwen's library. Caron – or Alun as he was then, was Merlin's servant and companion since he was a boy."

Draco's face was a study in shock and amazement. "Branwen's library! We… Are you telling me that you took a muggle to The Isle? With permission?"

Harry looked up from his laptop with a huff of irritation. "No Draco. Tasha and I broke into the Isle and picked the lock on Branwen's front door. Of course with permission."

"At what price?"

Harry had been logging into his computer as they talked, but now he stopped. "What do you mean?"

"At what price?"

Harry's face remained blank. Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh come on Harry, don't be naive. The Isle of Avalon is the most important treasury of magical knowledge and history in all of Britain, hell, probably the world. You think that they will allow a muggle to visit, and no doubt rummage through the Isle's treasures without any guarantees of secrecy. Who obtained your consent for you anyway?"

"Kingsley. Now you come to mention it, he did say something about owing the Statute Office a favour…"

Draco snorted into his coffee…. "If that's all it is, I'm a house elf…" He crouched beside Harry's chair, his face suddenly serious. "Promise me something Harry. Please. … If… when, we get Natasha back, don't let her out of your sight…."

Something cold and unpleasant twisted in the bottom of Harry's stomach. "Draco – what are you suggesting?"

"Honestly… I don't know. I just can't see them letting her just jet back to New York… knowing what she knows. Just don't let her out of your sight. OK."

Harry nodded, cursing his stupidity. How had he missed that, missed the shifty look in Kingsley's eyes that morning in his kitchen.

What had Kingsley agreed that was so serious that he wouldn't tell him, Harry, in spite of all they'd been through?

Shaking himself, Harry dragged his attention back to the maps on his computer. The first problem was to find Tash and stop HYDRA. He would deal with Kingsley, and whatever else awaited them then, and not before. Seeing the change in his focus, Draco studied the map on the screen.

"So where are we going?"

"I'm kicking myself that I didn't realise this sooner. Caron's text refers to a sacred isle, watched over by the guardian spirits of the dead. Merlin – the man, as opposed to the Gandalf-like figure we now think of, was the last of the mages raised in the old Druidic faith. Before he was even born, the Romans had massacred most of the Druids, and destroyed the sacred oak groves on what was one of their most sacred places. The place known to the Welsh as Ynys Mon, the island of Anglesey.

Eyes never leaving the screen, Draco nodded slowly. "That makes sense. I've never been to Anglesey, but it's a fair size. Any chance we could narrow it down a little?"

Harry nodded, flicking through a number of images of the Anglesey coastline. "I have been once, it's lovely, and well worth the trip. But it was while I was on the The Isle that I got a clue. I had a dream in which I spoke to a man, I never saw his face, but I believe that it may have been Caron himself – unless Merlin had come through for a chat of course. He spoke to me about making a choice. Then my Mum came through, and she showed me an image, of a towering cliff, a tall narrow fissure – a cave, and a platform cut by the tide. I thought then that it looked vaguely familiar." He gestured toward one of the pictures on his screen. This is what I saw. It's on Holyhead, not far from the South Stack lighthouse I think. The problem is I don't know for sure. There could be half a dozen different features like this"

Draco frowned, pondering practicalities. "I don't think I can apparate us there to be honest Harry. I have no idea as to the lie of the land, and could just as easily drop us into the Irish Sea."

Harry shook his head. "I agree, and beside, we need to check around the whole of Holyhead – that's the furthest tip of the island. What we could really do with is a helicopter."

"Excellent idea Harry. And when you manage to pull one out of that magical rucksack of yours, don't forget to conjure up a pilot. Unless you've been hiding a muggle pilot's licence on your person of course…"

Harry fished Natasha's Starkphone out of his bag with a flourish. "Leave that with me Draco. Make yourself comfortable for a minute. I just need to make a call."

Wandering back into the kitchen, he called the number that Stark had used earlier. But the familiar voice that answered was not the mad inventor.

"Stark residence. How may I direct your call?"

"Hello Jarvis. This is Harry Potter again. May I speak to Mr Stark please?"

There was a pause, presumably while Stark's indefatigable AI verified that he was who he said he was, then the line clicked faintly.

"Harry Potter. I didn't expect to hear from you this quickly. What can I do for you?"

"You remember earlier, when you agreed to let me handle this, on the understanding that if I needed anything I'd call"

There was a dry chuckle. "Harry, I may have had a couple, but my memory is just fine. I remember. How can I help?"

"I need a helicopter and pilot"

There was a moment's silence. "A helicopter. I don't suppose a Starkjet will do? I happen to keep one on standby at City Airport."

"Alluring though the idea of luxuriating on one of your private jets is, I'm afraid I need something a little more practical. I need to be able to inspect Welsh cliff faces."

"Ah yes. Helicopter it is then. Leave it with Jarvis and me. We'll make arrangements and text you details." The voice on the end of the line softened perceptibly. "And Harry…"

"Yes"

"While we sort this out, for the love of God get some sleep. I'm fairly certain that it's way past your bedtime and you sound like hell. You're no good to Tash half dead. Jarvis tracked your phone to some kind of top secret unlisted medical facility in London earlier, so I'm fairly certain that Tash isn't the only one to have a rough day."

The customary denial was on the tip of Harry's tongue, when common sense kicked in. "You're right. I suppose I could sleep while I wait to hear from you"

"Pepper'll never believe it - me being the sensible one for a change. Give 'em hell Harry. And bring our girl back."

"I will. Goodbye… and thank you"

Hanging up, Harry returned to the library, looking pleased, checking his watch. "It's 1.30am now. Dawn is in approximately five hours. Even with magic we'd be crazy to try to find what we're looking for in the dark. Transport is being arranged, details pending. In the meantime there's time to catch a few hours' sleep" He nodded his head towards the stairs. "You can use the guestroom on the second floor. First door on the right. Is that OK?"

"Sure." Draco rose to his feet. "Not my usual room?"

There was no answer. Harry's face was closed and tight with a strain that had nothing to do with broken bones and concussion.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

"That's Tash's room. Some of her stuff is still in there."

Draco and Harry were both affectionate and open with the women in their lives, but not with each other. If they had that kind of relationship, Draco thought, there had never been a moment where Harry was more in need of a hug than this. Instead, he put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "We'll sort this out Harry. Get her back"

Harry's face softened just a little, but his expression was no brighter. "What then Draco. I'll carry on here as though nothing's happened; while she's goes back to her life on the other side of the Atlantic. Chasing the scum of the universe around until one of us ends up dying alone on the wrong side of a bullet - or a curse." He laughed cynically. "You and I both know how much the world loves a dead hero… they're so much easier to live with."

Draco shook his head. "This is not good my friend. I'm the hard-nosed cynic in this relationship, not you. You're all sunshine and rainbows, and seeing the good in everyone remember. Come on. I can't promise it'll all be all right in the morning, but whatever happens will be a bit easier to deal with on a few hours of sleep."

Harry sighed, knowing Draco was right. "Thanks Draco. I'll give you a shout before we need to leave."

With Draco hard on his heels, Harry dragged himself wearily upstairs to his room. Not even bothering to put the light on, he took off his boots and climbed onto his bed still fully clothed, trying very hard not to think about the faint traces of Tash's perfume that still clung to his pillows. Trying to get comfortable he rolled over onto the other pillow, muttering under his breath when he felt paper under his cheek. Curious, he cast a quick lumos,to investigate.

The paper was standard muggle printer paper, not the sort of thing a wizard would normally use, but the note was undoubtedly written by quill. Harry frowned for a moment, trying to work out whether or not there might be something vaguely familiar about the handwriting.

Harry Potter, we have the muggle. You have twenty four hours to find that which we seek and win her life and her freedom. Take Malfoy with you if you must, but no-one else.

We are watching you.

A

There was no other signature – there was no need. Harry traced the letter with his finger.

"Araposa. Finally we meet"

Then, resolutely clearing his head, he set a tempus charm to wake him and closed his eyes.

ooo0ooo

Half propped against the wall now, Natasha had fallen into a light doze. She was cold and hungry, but she'd had worse in the past. Her thirst was the hardest thing to ignore... right now she would happily give six months of her life for a bottle of water. She was distracted from her discomfort by the sound of footsteps outside the door putting every sense on the alert. Through half closed eyes she watched the door open carefully, her heart sinking as Donnelly slide inside. Always large, he towered threateningly over her prone position.

"Hello pretty... fancy some company..."

Seated in her study above, poring over a map of North Wales, the sound of fist on flesh and bone brought Araposa's head up sharply. She listened for a moment, a cool smile on her face. Beyond the sound of Donnelly relieving some of his frustrations, there was no sound from the cellar below.

Returning to her maps, she shrugged. Donnelly was well aware of the importance of keeping their prisoner alive... uncomfortable but alive.

The woman was tough though, she had to admit...

When Donnelly re-emerged nearly an hour later, Natasha still hadn't made a sound...