Harry's invisibility cloak is a strange thing. Death can not see through it, but Mad-Eye's magical eye can. I don't know if I'm going to be going the way of the Deathly Hollows in my story. At this point I would have to say no but that is always subject to change.

I never indicated Harry was an expert in any of the martial arts he is learning; just that he is learning them and teaching what he himself had learned unto the others. At this point in my story he has spent about five months between two summers, and then eight months of training under the Ministry, so a little over a year worth of it. Having practiced judo and kick boxing at the same time for several years in middle school and high school, I know the potential difficulties he faces learning multiple combat sports at the same time.

Also, Reservoir Dogs was a much more successful movie in the United Kingdom than it was in the United States for years after its release. Given that this story is taking place in 1996-1997, it is more probable that a citizen of the United Kingdom would know the movie over a citizen of the United States.

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING CHAPTER HAS A SCENE TOWARD THE END OF THE CHAPTER THAT CONTAINS RAPE. NOTHING IS WRITTEN TOO GRAPHIC, BUT I FELT IT WAS SOMETHING THE READER SHOULD BE MADE AWARE OF.

Chapter 17 A Very Concerned Citizen

Harry pointed his wand over the desk, a wave of magic pouring out of his wand and slowly blanketing the piece of furniture. As the magic crept closer to the floor, the bottom drawer started glowing blue. Harry focused his wand on the drawer, twisting it this way and that, making complicated patterns, glowing bright with magic, in the air that trailed after his wand. After a few moments, with twirling patterns of all colors hanging in the air around the tip of his wand, Harry tapped the drawer. The blue glow that surrounded the drawer seemed to suck up the patterns one after the other, until they all disappeared and the blue glow vanished with a slight pop.

Reaching down, Harry pulled the drawer open and peered inside. There was a handful of folders, obviously containing some type of information meant to be kept hidden from all those who looked. He double checked there was no secondary enchantments over the folders before pulling them out. One by one he went through them, but didn't find the information he was looking for.

There were reports on illegal money laundering, under the table business deals with the Dragon Mafia, and a secret fund set up to support a mistress. Yet he wasn't looking for any of that. What he was looking for was information pertaining to Death Eater activity.

To be fair, when he broke into the home of Justin Trudeau, French noblemen and honored member of Le Counseil de la Magie, he hadn't known exactly what to look for. Did Death Eaters keep their robes and mask in the closet next to their every day robes? Was there a minutes of meeting written down on a piece of parchment and handed out to each Death Eater after get togethers so they'd know all of the topics discussed each time they met? Or was the only thing confirming it the Dark Mark and participation in raids and attacks?

He made copies of the folders, and placed them in the drawer, keeping the originals for himself. Just because it was not the information he was looking for, did not mean it wasn't information he could use. He pressed his wand against the drawer again, and concentrating, pulled it way. All the twirling patterns of magic that had earlier disappeared, were pulled out and the drawer glowed blue again. The withdrawn magic hung upon the tip of his wand, grouped together, before he gave the piece of holly a shake, the energies dissolving quickly from sight.

He began his search anew, and finding nothing more in the study, moved on to another room. The issue with these big pureblood lords was that their houses were huge. He had been at it for over an hour, and had just started upon the second floor. Luckily, the Trudeaus were out at some fancy social gathering and the house elves had been drugged using butterbeer with a simple sleeping draught mixed in. The house-elves were only too happy to drink the "gift" their master had left for them before he had left. He hoped none of them grew addicted to the drink like Winky had. He didn't need any house elves developing crippling alcoholism because of him. Hermione would kill him if she found out.

Still, there was no desire on his part to spend more time than necessary searching throughout the house, as there was no telling when the home owners would be back. Plus, he had work the next morning.

Harry hoped his other home visits didn't take this long. In all his gathering of information, he had found four people who fell under all three of the criterias he used for one to be a suspect, where as most others fell under one or two; they were all former or current suspected Death Eaters, they all were known for their anti-muggleborn stances in the government, and all were on the Dragon Mafia payroll.

As he moved from room to room, meticulously searching over every inch of space, he found his hope growing smaller and smaller. At last, after almost two and a half hours of searching, he had discovered no indication that either Mister or Missus Trudeau were Death Eaters.

It was of course, only his first foray into finding the Death Eater connection within the French Ministry of Magic. It would have been sheer luck if he had hit on his first attempt. There was still three more men who fell under his trifecta that he needed to investigate, plus a decent amount of others who fell under two, or one of his criteria for being a suspect.

Besides he was not leaving totally empty handed. He wondered if Missus Trudeau knew of this mistress?

Dear Mister Delacour,

I have recently found myself in the possession of some documents for one Mr. Justin Trudeau and have become quite alarmed at the implications they seem to hold. To think that one of our most upstanding citizens like Lord Trudeau could be involved in such things, well the very thought of it leaves me speechless.

I send these to you knowing that in your position as Head of the Department of Wizarding Law Enforcement you will have a better idea of what to do with them than I. While I valued all he has done as a voting member of our government, no one is above the law. Not even those like Mr. Trudeau.

Sincerely,

A Very Concerned Citizen

Jean Delacour looked down from the letter to the folders that sat on his desk. It had been the fifth time he had read the letter, and each time he didn't know whether to sigh or laugh. He had always dreamed of going after families like the Trudeaus and the Malfoys, but doing so was a political nightmare due to the wealth and connections of the families. Raids conducted on their homes based off of previous tips had turned up nothing, and had led to much embarrassment on the behalf of the department.

Yet here in front of him was some of the proof he had always wanted. He had brought in the best forensic analyst the department had, as well as several other professions, to verify the documents and get him some kind of information as to the letter or its sender. The documents, which listed dozens of illegal business ventures between Mr. Trudeau and the Dragon Mafia, as well as ways used to explain the extra income by way of Trudeau's quidditch supply stores, were steeped in Trudeau's magic and covered in his fingerprints. Not to mention the handwriting analysis coming back with a match for Trudeau. It wasn't enough to get a warrant for an arrest, not with the connections a man like Justin Trudeau had, but it would be enough to get a warrant to take a closer look at the books of the quidditch supply stores, amongst other things.

As to the letter itself, there was nothing. There was no hint of any magic on the parchment or envelope. Nor could they find any finger prints that might be on the recently handled parchment. Whoever had wrote it had gone through great lengths to make sure nothing was left behind that could give them away. Not like that added onto his suspicions of the person who sent it, as they were already quite high. Obviously, someone who obtained such sensitive documents didn't acquire them legally; indicating to Jean at least a breaking and entering charge on the persons rap sheet, without ever having to meet them.

"Nothing?" Jean's undersecretary, Noelle, asked as she stepped into the room.

Jean looked up and shook his head. "Whoever sent the letter covered their tracks. We can't get a hint of anything. And the handwriting was purposely written in a strange fashion so it wouldn't match anyone."

"I have a pair of Chevaliers trying to trace the flight path of the owl that brought the letter."

Jean nodded his head. While he knew it would more than likely turn up nothing, it was still something that needed to be done. Who was this mysterious letter writer?

"You're holding your wand wrong," Harry gently chastised.

He positioned Elise's fingers so they weren't in a death grip on the piece of mahogany she clutched in her grip.

"You want to hold it firmly but not like its the last thing you'll ever hold in your life. Spells come with various movements to them and it is a lot easier to perform them, and carry the movement of one spell into another, when your wand isn't in a death grip."

The battle between the ICW Coalition and the Death Eaters happening in Greece was still ongoing. However, every day the Death Eaters gained ground and it was only a matter of weeks before Greece fell. None of the remaining countries in the Balkans had the manpower to withstand Voldemort for long, and all would quickly fall.

It appeared only a matter of time until the rest of Europe started to come under attack. Some of them were already experiencing riots and violence against muggles from pro-Voldemort purebloods and half-bloods. It was crazy to think how many of them were out there. Germany was trying to get the other major countries to form another coalition in order to stand against the Death Eaters before they could move out of the Balkans. While there was some positive responses from France, Italy and Spain, others like Poland were hesitant. And that wasn't even factoring in the generally negative responses from the non-European countries like the United States and China.

There was rumors amongst its employees that the French Ministry would be holding voluntary classes to teach people how to properly duel. Elise didn't want to wait, so Harry had offered to help her, still under the act of her fellow French Ministry employee Alexandre. That is why they found themselves in one of the Ministry's dueling rooms, usually reserved for Law Enforcement but open to the other employees when not in use.

"Okay, so I don't know how you are with spellcasting. So to get a gauge of what I'm working with, I'd like you to just run through this list of spells."

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. He handed it to Elise, who unfolded it and read the spells. They were basic offensive and defensive spells taught while in school; stunner, stinging hex, disarming charm, basic shield charm, etc.

"These are spells for school children," Elise said, a frown making its way upon her face.

Harry nodded his head. "Correct. But you'd be surprised how many adults can't correctly cast them after graduation. Like I said, it's just to get an idea of what I'm working with."

Although showing reluctance, Elise did as she was told. Harry watched her, correcting motions and pronunciation when needing correcting. However, he was pleased to see that besides a few minor mistakes, Elise knew her spells and was fine with her spellcasting.

"Excellent. Those spells, while basic, are the foundation of any fighters repertoire. You can't move on to the advanced stuff until you know the basics. Now for me, one of the most important parts of fighting is movement. I find that many witches and wizards rely too much on their magic to defend themselves. A spell can't hit you if you are not in the spot it was aimed at. I want you to keep that in mind.

"You could end up facing people who are more powerful than you, or know more spells than you. You can't match your magic against theirs because they have the advantage. However, their overpowered curse, or obscure spell you've never heard of, can't cause you any harm if you move out of harms way."

She looked skeptical. Harry resisted the urge to sigh. If she knew him as Harry Potter, runner-up in the European Junior Dueling Championship, as well as the wizarding icon the Boy-Who-Lived, she would accept what he said. Since, to her, he was just Alexandre Labell, member of the French Ministry maintenance crew, she was skeptical about what he said.

"You doubt me," Harry stated.

"It's not that I doubt you," Elise started, looking unsure. "It's just that I was expecting to learn more powerful spells."

"While knowing a lot of spells is beneficial, it isn't the end all be all. I will teach you more spells, but that will come after you learn how to fight."

She still didn't look convinced.

Harry held up his hand. "I'll tell you what. Try to hit me with a stinging hex and I'll try to avoid your spells without the use of magic."

Harry took a couple of steps back and spread his arms out wide. Elise raised her wand but didn't cast any spells.

"Even an overpowered stringing hex won't cause any serious damage. Trust me," Harry said.

There was a moment hesitation before she cast the first hex. Harry easily sidestepped it. She launched another, which he also sidestepped. A handful more were launched, and he dodged them all without much effort. Several more attempts were made to hit him, with each miss causing more frustration to appear on Elise's face.

"I give up!" she all but shouted, almost throwing her wand down.

Harry grinned at her. "With no magic I was able to avoid all of your spells just by simply staying in motion." He paused for a moment. "What could have helped your chances of hitting me would have been not to shoot every spell where I was, and instead either attempt to guess my next move or to just litter the area around me with spells. If you shoot three spells directly at me and I step to the left, all three will miss. If you shoot one at me, one slightly to the left and one slightly to the right, and I step to the side, I step right into the path of another spell."

It was at this moment that David came into the room. The Enforcer, the only of Elise's friends he did not like, blinked in surprise at the sight of them. It appeared he had come in to work by himself on his dueling, and had take the room to be empty, since it was most of the times he had used it.

From what Harry had been told, David liked Elise but she did not return his feelings. They had tried dating, it didn't work, and there attempt to remain friends led to David's jealousy toward anyone Elise showed interest in. That happened to be Harry, who had shaken his head upon realizing that know matter how old you were, there always seemed to be some kind of drama going on in your life.

"What are you two doing here?" David asked, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Alexandre was teaching me to duel," Elise explained, as she stepped closer to Harry.

"Alexandre is teaching you to duel? You remember I'm a Ministry Enforcer right?"

David's voice was incredulous. No doubt he found it odd that it was a Ministry maintenance wizard who was teaching her how to fight, not the Enforcer. To be fair, if Harry was in his shoes, he'd find it incredulous as well.

"To be fair to Elise, I offered," Harry commented, a wry grin on his face.

"And what does a maintenance wizard know of dueling?" David demanded.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Quite a bit actually."

David drew his wand and stepped forward. He looked Harry in the eyes, a scowl on his face.

"Prove it."

"David!" Elise cried, stepping forward. "What are you doing?"

"He says he knows how to duel, I want him to prove it," David stated, not taking his eyes off Harry.

"Sure," Harry replied with another shrug of his shoulders.

"Alexandre, do not rise to his bait."

Harry put a reassuring hand on Elise's shoulder. "It's ok. He'll actually help demonstrate what I was just showing you. So actually, he's helping me out here."

If anything that caused David's scowl to deepen. He indicated Harry toward one end of the room, while he turned and stomped toward the other. As Harry walked, he thought about what he was going to do. He couldn't rely on transfiguration or his previous dueling styles, as making sure there was no similarities to Harry Potter was one of his main jobs.

"Spell limits?" Harry asked, as he turned on the spot to face his opponent.

"Nothing illegal," David replied.

Harry frowned. That still left a lot of borderline, potentially deadly spells on the table. "What about-"

Harry was cut off as David brought his wand down, a piercer flying forward. Harry stepped to the side to avoid it, and had to quickly duck as two more followed. Those spells would definitely cause some damage if they hit.

He weaved his way through the spellfire, trying to enforce the idea of constant movement in a duel was your best bet on defense. As he moved, he occasionally shot back his own spells but kept it to a minimum. David was under the belief that he was a much better duelist then Harry, and was cocky enough where his inability to finish the duel as more time passed, would lead to him getting more and more frustrated. After all the whole point of this duel, at least for David, was to make Harry look bad in the eyes of Elise. As an Enforcer, David was a very good fighter, and Harry suspected if you took the emotional aspect out of the duel, David would beat him. He was, after all, seven years older than Harry actually was, and was the equivalent of a United Kingdom Hit-Wizard.

Harry was forced to quickly shield some spells he knew he wouldn't be able to dodge in time. He could feel David pouring more and more power into his spells. Harry shook his head. Usually, the more power you poured into a spell, the harder it was to maintain accuracy. The French wizard was starting to get frustrated, just like Harry had hoped.

He dodged a few more spells before acting. Gathering up his power, he parried one of David's spells back at him. As David threw up a shield to block his own spell, Harry switched to offense. He sent a barrage of basic hexes and jinxes. As David poured more power into his shield to defend against the attack, Harry launched the shield destroyer he had learned for the dueling tournament.

The wave of blue magic crashed into the defensive magic, making it shatter. David found himself having to throw himself to the side in order to avoid the next grouping of spells. Harry pressed his advantage, stepping closer and closer to his opponent. He always prided himself on his quick spellcasting, and it helped him keep David from gaining back the momentum The few spells David managed to get off, Harry was easily able to sidestep.

Eventually, a banisher caught David in the chest and sent him flying backward. Before he could recover, Harry hit him with a stunner. Harry breathed out heavily from his nose. It certainly wasn't the toughest duel of his life, but it had strained him.

He turned to Elise, who was staring at him in surprise. He holstered his wand and walked over to her.

"You beat him," she said, slightly shocked.

"I partook in the junior dueling competitions the last few years," Harry answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "In David's defense, since he's unable to defend himself right now, he could have beat me if he didn't let his frustration get the best of him."

She nodded her head, glancing at the collapsed form of David. He was still in the heap he had fallen in after the banisher had sent him flying. Harry indicated the open space him and David had just been dueling on.

"My biggest advantage was I stayed moving. It allowed me to both dodge his spells and cast spells of my own at the same time to put him on the defensive. I want you to remember that. Now, I think we're done for today."

"Already?" she asked.

Harry turned to her with a grin. "I can't imagine David will be to happy with me when I wake him up. Might not be best to stay around once he's fully coherent."

"I'd like to question Ministry employees."

Jean Delacour looked up from the folder he was reading with a raised eyebrow. He had asked his undersecretary to look fully into the letter that had arrived with the information indicating Monsieur Trudeau, and had then passed her the second one that had arrived with information on Monsieur Janviér. This letter was similar to the first in that it was attached to parchment implicating illegal money laundering and underhand business interactions with the Dragon Mafia. It was a similar letter in that it was attached to a bunch of parchment implicating a highly thought of pureblood Lord with anti-muggleborn leanings in dealings with the Dragon Mafia.

"Ministry employees?" Jean asked, keeping his eyebrow raised. "You think a Ministry employee is the one sending us these letters?"

"We've done some digging, and spoke with our informants. The Dragon Mafia has been under attack for the last three months. Many stores have been hit and members have gone missing, including Alain de Grace."

"Alain de Grace has gone missing?" Jean asked, wishing he had previous reports in front of him. None of his men had reported that information to him. He wished he had taken the time to read the reports carefully, it might have been mentioned in a report somewhere. They could have worked with that information.

"Almost two months ago."

"So the obvious connection is that whoever is sending us these letters, this Very Concerned Citizen, is either the same person, or at least a member of the group, that has been attacking the Dragon Mafia here in Paris."

"That's the connection we made as well."

Jean nodded his head, carefully looking over the folder; making sure he didn't miss any important information this time around.

"I'm still not sure your want of questioning Ministry employees."

"You remember the break in six weeks ago? In the Ministry employee records room?" Noelle asked.

"Of course. The investigation is still on going."

"It is. We interviewed every visitor who signed in and hadn't left before the break in had taken place. No one could get into the Ministry, even with an invisibility cloak, undetected so we know it had to be someone who signed in. But none of the names and magical signatures recorded were fakes. They all led to real people, who had all visited the Ministry for their various purposes. None of whom had memories altered or falsified, as verified by our Mind Healers."

Jean, as head of the department, knew all that already.

"So you think it was a Ministry employee who broke in," Jean stated, knowing where the line of thought was leading.

"We have no other suspects as of right now."

"I can understand that, but what does that have to do with the investigation into the Very Concerned Citizen?"

Noelle shrugged her shoulders. "The break in happened soon after the attacks on the Dragon Mafia started taking place. We originally suspected whoever broke in was a Death Eater, or Death Eater sympathizer, looking to identify all muggle-born Ministry workers. But what if they weren't a Death Eater? What if they were the same person or group working against the Dragon Mafia?"

"But why?" Jean asked, a puzzled look making its way onto his face. "What use would the records of Ministry employees have when dealing with the Dragon Mafia?"

"That's a connection we won't fully know until we catch whoever did it. My guess? Both of the letters we received have indicated purebloods in the Ministry. Maybe the break in wasn't to identify muggle-borns, but rather purebloods. Some kind of anti-pureblood agenda. Since the majority of the Dragon Mafia leadership is pureblood it's the best connection I can make. At this time, we already ruled out non-Ministry suspects, so the investigation on the break in was leading to this anyway."

"Very well." Jean stood up from his desk, and walked around to the side Noelle sat at. She also rose from her chair, and allowed herself to be led toward the door of the office. "Starting tomorrow, you can begin your interviews with Ministry employees. Any particular Department you want to start with?"

"I want to start with the new employees before moving to individual departments," Noelle answered, nodding her head in farewell as she stepped out the office door.

As Harry watched the owl fly off, the third letter and folder combination being sent to Jean Delacour, he couldn't help but feel like James Bond had lied to him. During the summer, while living with Ron and Neville, they had purchased a bunch of movies to watch; to introduce the two purebloods to a part of muggle culture and because Harry had seen only a few growing up. The handful of James Bond films they had viewed had fascinated all three of them. A debonair British guy who kicked ass and got all the girls? What wasn't there to love about that?

However, Harry was learning that being a spy wasn't all beautiful women, explosions and saving the world. Instead it was mostly a lot of observing, snooping around and gathering information. Stuff that was, to be frank, sleep inducing boring in comparison.

Still, he was making results against the Dragon Mafia; results the French Ministry hadn't been able to make. Probably because they had to follow the law, whereas Harry did not. He could break into homes, kidnap members, and illegally interrogate those he kidnapped. Then he could send the information he found to the Ministry to do whatever they could the legal way, because his information gave them enough probable cause to obtain warrants. Warrants would turn up evidence, which would lead to arrest and arrest would cut off major cash flow to the Dragon Mafia.

"I deserve a drink," Harry muttered to himself.

It was thirty minutes later that he found himself in a muggle pub, polishing off his second Irish stout. He looked up to flag down the bartender when he felt it, a presence brushing up against his mental defenses. Not a legilimens attack, something softer; something more sensual. He blinked once, twice, before shaking his head to try to clear the feeling.

His head automatically turned and he found himself, like every other guy in the pub, staring at the stunning blonde that had just walked through the front door Harry felt himself blinking again. A veela in a muggle pub?

He turned back toward the bartender and, noticing the glazed look on the man's face, focused his attention on the empty glass in front of him. He doubted he would be able to get another drink, not with the veela allure playing havoc with the male muggles in the room. He slid his empty glass forward and stood from his bar stool.

Harry felt the presence push stronger and stronger against his mental defenses until, turning, he found himself face to face with the veela and her allure all but pounding on his occlumency shields.

"You're leaving?" The words came from soft lips he found himself staring at a second longer than necessary.

"Uh yeah, just came for a couple of pints," Harry responded, starting to feel dizzy.

The veela placed her hand on his arm, rooting him to the spot he stood. "Stay for a few more. Please?"

She pouted at him and before he could respond, was waving the bartender over. She leaned forward and said something in a low voice to the bartender. A few moments later and Harry found a shot of some strong whiskey and another stout placed in front of him by a glaring bartender.

Harry looked at the veela who was holding her own shot, though it was definitely not the same liquor that sat in his shot glass. She held hers up and looked at him expectantly. Harry slowly grabbed his shot and held it up in front of him. She clinked her shot glass against his before tossing hers back, Harry following her example.

As the liquor made its way down his throat, Harry almost gagged at how strong it was. He grabbed the stout in front of him and drank half of it in a few mouthfuls to wash out the taste of the liquor he just had.

"Was it too strong?" the veela asked, her hand finding its way back to his arm.

"Not at all," Harry lied.

"Would you care for another?" she asked.

Harry waved his hand. "No, I'm fine for right now."

The alcohol was starting to get to his head. Two stouts in thirty minutes was already pushing him to that level right below drunk, commonly referred to as buzzed. That shot was a lot higher proof than your normal run of the mill whiskey, and was tipping him into the drunk level.

The allure kept pressing against his mental shields, which were beginning to falter with the alcohol taking effect. What were the chances a veela would walk into this muggle pub anyway?

Harry panted, his fingers digging into the flesh of the veela's waist. He could barely think straight and it wasn't just the alcohol that was making him say that. Not only was his body awash in carnal pleasure but his mind was overwhelmed by the sheer force of the veela's allure. This was by far the most enjoyable moment of his life. His mind, his body, and it felt like even his soul, was on a level of pleasure he had never been on before.

He was close, so close to finishing; to blowing his load inside this goddess of a being that rode him, bereft of condoms and any other form of contraceptive. Not that, in this moment, any of that mattered. He felt it rising, the force of her charm clouding his mind with lust. Making the only thing that mattered finishing and claiming this veela as his own.

On instinct he was not aware his body would still have in such a moment, his hand flew from her waist to knock away her arm that was flying toward his neck. The blade that had been aimed for his throat was instead buried into the mattress, the edge of it grazing the top of his shoulder and leaving a shallow cut which welled with blood.

He growled as her allure pressed even harder against his mind. He tried to fight against it but it was too strong, he couldn't think straight. His animalistic nature, something that had become more prominent in him after becoming an animagus, had no human mind holding it back anymore. As his one hand grabbed her wrist that held the knife, that was seconds ago almost buried in his neck, the other moved up and grabbed her throat; the space between thumb and pointer pressing against her windpipe. His fingers squeezed, and as he looked up at the veela, he could see her eyes widen, her free hand moving up to claw at his grip on her throat. With a snarl, Harry flipped them, so now he was on top and she below him. His fingers tightened even further, her face slowly starting to turn blue as he began to pound away in her, her allure fading quickly.

With a grunt, he came inside her. Sluggishly his mind started coming through and his grip on her neck loosened. With deep, panicky breaths, her first breaths in over a minute, she weakly struggled against him; trying to push him off of her. Harry shook his head briefly for a moment, greater thought rushing back to him for the first time in an hour.

The hand grasping her throat released it's grip and flicked at the room door. The door, which had been in the process of being thrown open by a wand-wielding man, was closed with force; the solid wood slamming into the man's face. As the man let out a curse, Harry rolled off the bed and took the veela with him. She landed on top of him, both of them pressed against each other, naked and tangled in the sheets that trapped their bodies together.

Harry pulled her closer against him as the bedroom door was blown to pieces, wooden splinters of various sizes flying into the room. He took a quick glance at her spare hand and saw the knife was not in her grasp anymore. The wand-wielding wizard seemed like the bigger threat to him so, he released the grip he still held on her wrist and summoned his wand to him.

As spell fire shot at the bed they took cover behind, Harry's wand landed into his palm. His fingers curled around the familiar instrument and immediately his hand went into action. He turned the bed into something more solid and banished it toward his attacker. The sheets around him were cut into ribbons, and he shoved the veela off.

He jumped to his feet, a circular shield of defensive energy snapping into place in front of him, deflecting the curse aimed at his chest. His attacker had used brute force to defend against Harry's attack, the bed laying in pieces on the floor.

Still naked, Harry side stepped another curse and went on the offensive. A handful of hexes and jinxes left his wand and flew toward his opponent. He banished pieces of the destroyed bed toward the man as well for good measure. He kept the pressure up, forcing the man to back pedal quickly as shield after shield popped into existence to defend against the onslaught.

Turning, Harry blocked the ball of fire that was seconds from hitting the small of his back. The veela had turned into her avian form. She crouched on the floor, her sharp beak leaving no traces of the beauty her human form had. Her fingers had turned into vicious looking talons, large wings protruded from her shoulder blades. To Harry she looked much like he imagined a succubus might look in their true form as her tits swayed with her movements.

Caught between two opponents was not the best place to be. It was obvious they were assassins sent to kill him. He wondered if they knew who he was, who he really was, or if they were sent after him for one of the many things he had done while in France; breaking into homes in order to provide evidence to jail several powerful members of society, capture and imprison multiple Dragon Mafia members in another country, and shut down several money laundering schemes.

Twirling away from a handful of spells, Harry was forced to dive quickly to his side. He didn't realize how fast veela could move, especially in such tight quarters with those wings sticking out of their backs. The veela came again, her claws slashing at his naked flesh. As he dodged the attack, he grabbed one of the flailing arms and using the veela's momentum against her, spun and threw her into the wall. Before she could get up, he animated the strips of destroyed sheet and they flew across the room to bind the veela's hands and feet. Harry fired off a quick transfiguration, changing the bedsheets that tied the veela up into metal chains. Last thing he needed was for the veela to break free and really put him at a disadvantage.

He turned just in time to catch a cutting curse in his side. The spell sent him staggering as the magic sliced through his skin and muscle before burying in his ribs. Harry gasped in pain, his free hand flying to his side to grasp at his wound. He hastily threw up one of the stronger shields he knew.

As the wizard tried to break through the shield, Harry used the seconds he had to try to deal with the cut in his side. He wasn't able to stop the bleeding entirely but did manage to slow the blood flow down. Then a Killing Curse shattered his shield into nothing, and he was forced to dodge.

Deflecting a spell, Harry banished the dresser at his attacker. The man blew the dresser into splinters that showered the room, forcing both of them to shield themselves. There was a moments pause as they both observed each other, breathing heavily. The man's nose was swollen and bleeding from where Harry had slammed the door into it. Harry still had his left arm wrapped protectively around his midsection, and could feel his energy ebbing away.

The man threw a spell at Harry, who was already summoning the nightstand to intercept. As the nightstand cracked under the pressure of the spell, the man made a move toward the veela. Harry sent the ruined nightstand flying at the man, who quickly dove out of the way and away from the veela. The man was under fire from spells as soon as he came up from his roll, defending himself as much as possible.

A disarming charm Harry hadn't expected to hit, caught the man in his chest and sent his wand flying into the corner of the room. Harry was already aiming his wand and casting spells, anticipating the man making a move for his wand. However, the man instead sprinted forward and tackled the unsuspecting Harry to the floor.

Harry felt the air leave his lungs, as his side seared with pain and his wand tumbled from his grasp. The man pressed his elbow down on Harry's still bleeding wound, causing him to black out for a few seconds. He came through just in time to feel the man's weight settle on his legs and the hands slip around his neck and start squeezing tight. He briefly clawed at the hand around his neck, before delivering some half-hearted punches to the man's face, which did nothing to release the grip on his neck.

He reached out desperately with his hand, attempting to grab his wand that lay somewhere off to his right. He felt a piece of wood in his grip, and looked out the corner of his eye to see not his wand, but a large piece of the destroyed dresser. As dots began to appear in his vision, and the world slowly started to fade to black, he swung the piece of wood he held in his hand at the man's head.

The grip was released as the weight fell off his legs. Lifting his head, Harry saw that he had caught the man in the side of his neck, blood gushing from the wound. Based on the amount of blood, it looked like he had hit the carotid artery. It was at this point that the veela, who had remained relatively quiet throughout his battle with the man, started to let loose a scream that could rival a banshee.

Wincing at the sound, Harry clambered to his feet and hit her with a wandless silencer. He took a step forward, only for the world to start spinning. He looked down at his side, which was coated in his own blood. He went to take another step but fell, landing on his hands and knees. Crawling, he found where his shirt had been discarded earlier and, after much fumbling, tied the piece of clothe tightly around his mid-section.

Then everything went black.