Oliver had assured Harry whilst talking with him over the phone that Gerald would come to see them the next morning although he questioned their means of processing him. Wizards were registered with the ministry through their wands and therefore their wands were their ID. How would the wandless wizard fit into this system?

Harry had explained that they would simply assess his claims and his abilities and go from there. Oliver seemed dissatisfied with the answer, but didn't press any further. Harry asked him if he would be accompanying Gerald. To his surprise, the man had replied with a no and an excuse of somewhere else he had to be. It actually pleased the aurors to know Gerald would be coming alone. Without his friend's watchful eye, they might get a better idea of the weird wizard.

As Harry and Ron tidied the office, setting things in place for Gerald's arrival and testing, a knock came on their office door.

''Bugger's early, isn't he?'' Ron complained, walking toward the door and opening it.

But it wasn't Gerald Davis that was behind it. It was a man that neither auror had seen in years.

''Professor Croaker,'' Harry spoke, startled. ''Um, how can we help you?''

The tall man stepped into the room, barely smiling at the young wizards. He was getting well on with age, but remained a prominent unspeakable working within the Department of Mysteries.

''Good morning, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasely. I haven't seen you since that horrible mess you and your friends made in the prophecy room,'' the man smirked.

Harry remembered the day well. They had been trying to retrieve the prophecy of the chosen one- the one speaking of himself and Voldemort- and had been ambushed by the deatheaters. It was the day Sirious Black had died...Harry's only remaining family.

''Right, sir, we apologize for that,'' Harry offered absent-mindedly, his brain replaying the last time he had seen his godfather.

''Water under the bridge,'' Croaker smiled. ''At any rate, Minister Shackelbolt asked me here. My department is intrigued with this Gerald Davis you've discovered.''

''You mean the wandless magic?'' Ron guessed as he left the door and rested against the front of his desk.

''Precisely. No human has ever been capable of such a feat. Elves, Goblins, Veela...species like those perform varying degrees of magic without a wand's aid, but never a human.'' Croaker pulled an empty chair from the wall beside him and took a seat. He rolled into a position where he could face both aurors. ''If this is true about him, we have to keep it under wraps.''

Harry and Ron were confused. They looked from the unspeakable to each other and then back, waiting for him to explain.

''Imagine, if you will," the man picked up on their disorientation and continued, "that it became common knowledge that there was a wizard capable of casting spells wandlessly. It would create pandemonium. The danger to him and the general public would increase needlessly as everyone would want answers. Some may even see him as a threat and demand justice...by the law or by their own means. Including non-human magical creatures. If they felt that wizards were becoming even more powerful, they may feel the need to fight against further subjugation of their people. We can't risk such an uproar or even, perhaps, civil war," Croaker pointed determinedly.

"How are we supposed to keep this quiet, then? Obliviate him?" Harry asked, feeling an odd need to defend Gerald against such treatment.

"No," Croaker replied, "We need to figure this out for the good of magical understanding and the contribution it could have toward bettering our world. We can't begin to understand it without his cooperation. I have a much simpler solution." The man looked down at his robes, opening them, and pulling out a wand. It was very plain. Straight, smooth, and of a light brown color. Possibly made of oak.

"You want to give him a wand?" Ron surmised, lifting his butt from his desk and carefully taking the wand from the unspeakable.

"Yes," Croaker agreed, "for show. Gerald will be ordered to keep his wandless capabilities a secret. If he needs a reason to satisfy selfishness, it will be to keep himself safe from the non-accepting masses."

Harry nodded, "Do you think he'll cooperate with helping you understand his powers?"

Croaker tilted his head and shook it once, "You tell me. You know more about him than I do."

"Hm," Harry cleared his throat, "His personality and his agenda is hard to gauge. At least it has been so far. I feel like he would cooperate with you on the surface even if it is with Oliver Smith's pushing him to do so. But I don't know how helpful he will actually be."

Just as Croaker and Ron started to nod in agreement, another knock sounded. Croaker spun around in his chair as Ron once again opened the entrance.

Gerald Davis stood there, his white hair wild, the bangs covering one eye in the signature style Harry had gotten used to seeing. The one bright blue eye that showed was covered in dark makeup and he wore a black dress shirt, vest, and pants to match. His hands were at his sides, thumbs in pockets and his lips held no expression.

"I'm here," he said in a moderate tone.

"Come in, please," Harry gestured.

Gerald looked to his side where Ron stood still holding the door, staring at him as he stepped inside and then watching the red-head close it behind him. Ron stepped awkwardly back toward his desk as the wizard's eyes fell from him and to Harry as he began speaking once more.

"Thank you for coming. I'm sure your friend told you why we asked you in?"

Gerald didn't answer at first. Instead he took his time letting his eyes scan around the room and from person to person. It at first seemed that he was simply being rude, but after a moment, Harry was sure he was only getting his standing in a place strange to him. Everyone had already pegged him as possibly a bit paranoid. Instead of trying to hurry him along, the aurors and the unspeakable stayed put and waited. Finally, Gerald put his head slightly to the side and responded.

"Yeah, he told me what you said," he took his left hand from his side and reached it to scratch the back of his neck. "So what do you want?"

The wizard's words were antagonistic. However, the emotion behind them was soft. Paranoia or curiosity or both.

"Well, you've met Ron and I," Harry continued, "This is Saul Croaker." The unspeakable nodded his head. "We need you to perform a few spells for us so that we can-"

"Make sure I'm not lying," Gerald finished for the auror. "I get it." There was a pause as he looked intently into Harry's eyes out of the corner of his own. Suddenly, he looked away and spoke again, "What spells?"

"Let's start small," Croaker said as he rose from his seat. He passed in between Harry and Gerald and picked up a blank piece of parchment from the desk. "Set it on fire," the unspeakable commanded, holding out the sheet.

Gerald's eyes flitted from Croaker to Harry and then to the piece of paper held out in front of him a few feet away. He shrugged and lifted his right hand, quickly throwing two pointed fingers at the parchment and mumbling, 'Incendio.'

Red energy sparked at his fingertips and immediately the paper was ablaze. In rapid succession, he repeated the action instead saying, 'Aguamenti' and just like that the fire was gone, put out by a sudden spurt of water from the wizard's hand. It all happened within a moment, too quickly for the others to react.

Harry, Croaker, and Ron then tore their attention from the paper and put it back on Gerald who shrugged his shoulders at them. "Next?" he said with a smirk.

The unspeakable squinted his eyes at the man and set the wet, charred parchment back down. "Transfiguration," he used the single word as a command.

Gerald's eyes grew soft and his smirk became a small, sweet smile. He held out his right hand to Croaker, palm up. "Orchideous," he whispered softly.

The three ministry employees focused on the outstretched hand and watched as a small bouquet of daffodils sprouted from the palm. When they finished growing, Gerald twisted his wrist to clutch them by the stems. His smile hadn't faded and he flashed it at Harry and Croaker before turning slowly and offering the flowers to Ron. The red-head, startled, glanced at his allies behind the wizard and then nervously stepped forward and grabbed them.

Harry had expected the white-haired wizard to change them into a spider or something else to mess with Ron. But he didn't. He only turned back around and waited for someone to speak. His smile was gone and the smirk had returned.

"What about the Patronus Charm?" Harry mused, his eyes intent on Gerald, who flinched at this suggestion. Harry's brow furrowed when he saw this fleeting change in the wizard's demeanor. His eyes narrowing and watching Gerald even closer, he couldn't pick up anything else to explain why the name of the spell had thrown him off...however momentarily it had been.

"Sorry," Gerald sighed, his smirk gone and face once more void of emotion, "I can't cast a patronus."

"Hm," Croaker interjected, "What advanced spells can you cast?"

Gerald narrowed his eyes at the unspeakable, not missing a beat, "At least three."

And there it was. Harry had been waiting for that sly part of the man to show again. The part that obviously found it amusing to show his distaste and even his apathy towards the magical system of separating light and dark magic, condemning dark as evil and nothing more. He had figured without his social guide present, Gerald would slip up and show that side of him that Oliver had been trying desperately to hide.

"I see, but of course you're forbidden from performing them," Croaker's voice instantly became cold. He broke Gerald's gaze and turned, walking until he was standing beside Harry and facing the desk behind the auror.

Harry calmly twisted his head to the side, his eyes both on Gerald and on what Croaker was up to. He saw the unspeakable pick up a photo frame and paper-weight shaped like a stag that Ginny had gifted to him when he first began his investigative career. The man clutched the items and took a deep breath in.

Croaker then abruptly spun, chunking the two items at the suspicious wizard without any warning or hesitation.

Gerald's eyes widened as he threw both his arms into the air, each hand with pointer and middle finger aimed at the small stag and the photograph. He yelled, "STUPEFY!" and stopped both items mere inches from his hands.

The unspeakable's actions had caused Harry and Ron to jump as well and both had retrieved their wands and stood with them readied at Gerald as soon as he had reacted. The three of them stayed exactly so for several moments, unmoving. All eyes were focused on Gerald whose, in turn, darted between the two aurors.

At last, he exhaled, lowering his hands to his sides once again, letting the items thrown at him hit the ground. His breathing had picked up to a degree high enough that Harry could see his chest heaving. The auror watched the man's obvious attempts to stay relaxed. The deep breathing, his hands clenching at his sides, his rapid blinking...

Harry then lowered his own weapon with Ron following suit. He looked at Croaker again. The wizard was rubbing his chin, eyes on the man he'd attacked. Was he trying to get a rise out of Gerald? Harry didn't know how unspeakables generally conducted their business, but he was adamantly against such antagonistic tactics.

"Professor? I don't feel that was necessary," Harry reprimanded while trying to stay calm himself.

"Maybe not," the unspeakable dismissed the concern, "At any rate, you've convinced me," he spat at Gerald, who had managed to get at least some control back.

"Hmph," Gerald grumbled. "So now what?"

"Now, you take this," Croaker stepped forward, the wand from before in his hand. He handed it off to Gerald, who took it cautiously, staring at it in disgust.

"Why?"

"The Ministry of Magic is ordering you not to allow others to know of your wandless capabilities," Harry spoke quickly in an effort to diffuse the situation.

Gerald looked up at Harry, a mixture of anger and confusion spread across his face, "I can't use a wand. I've tried."

"Well, we don't really expect you to use it. Only pretend to," Harry kept his voice polite and sincere as it was obviously working to quiet the disconcerted wizard before him.

Gerald's head fell back down to the wand, "I understand... Don't worry, I have no desire to call on the attention of any more wizards or witches..." he murmured with the same odd sadness he had had in his voice when telling the story of his mother. Then he was looking at Harry again, complacency returned.