When Harry was a child, before he'd ever heard of Hogwarts, he got to visit the zoo. Through the glass he had seen an enormous snake and he'd related more to it than to any person in his life, as he'd imagined it wrap its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car to crush it.

Draco could never pull that off without his wand. His demeanour was similar though. Harry expected him to turn his head ever so slightly and leave him to wonder whether he'd winked at him, like the snake had done.

The surveying charm only worked one way so Draco couldn't see there were about twenty people watching him from two different directions. Perhaps even three, since Tiberius McLaggen hadn't been crowding the hallway earlier and he wasn't in the room with Harry either.

The unnerving expectation of eye contact didn't go though, and Harry hardly dared to sip his tea. He didn't want to risk dribbling it back into his cup if the butterflies became too enthusiastic.

Robards had moved the table in the interrogation room, so Draco could reach his tea and the vials without moving his arm across his own torso. Robards had then asked him whether he objected to use of a Quick-Quotes Quill (he didn't) and whether he was comfortable having the Sign of Life charm cast on him (he was not).

"Alright." Robards stated then, leaning back slightly in his chair and taking a deep breath. "I won't waste your time with the usual drivel." He added calmly. "I was in Slytherin too."

His pale greyish blue jumper reminded Harry of his first conversation with Draco at Grimmauld, when Draco had explained how his favourite colour could be used against him.
Harry became uncomfortable.
A jumper and a Hogwarts house meant nothing in another context… But Draco had been isolated in a number of ways lately, and these were clearly decisions made to help build rapport.
Harry couldn't tell whether it was working.

Whose side are you on, Auror Potter?

He nervously sipped his tea.

"We haven't spoken before," said Robards as he regarded Draco. "How is the weather?"

Someone behind Harry sighed in exaggerated exasperation.

"It's a harsh winter," Draco nodded gently as he paused with meaning. "The air cuts even when the wind lays dormant."

"A sting on every breath?" Robards asked, and the responding amusement on Draco's face had a wry edge.
Robards nodded thoughtfully. "You are familiar with double-speak." He stated.

This slippery bollocks was draining and Harry was already tired. Did they have to drag the weather into this?

Draco reached for his teacup. Without lifting it from its saucer, he turned it so its handle was aiming towards himself. It had the deliberation of a chess move, which meant it was another kind of coded bullshit.

Yesterday, before Harry had gone to Hogwarts, he had passed the room in which Andromeda, Narcissa and Ron were laughing about teacups. This made far more sense now Harry knew there was some code involved. He couldn't imagine Ron caring otherwise.

All this energy Draco wasted on communicating through crockery would be much better spent talking to a mindhealer.

"I would lift it,… " said Draco with an air of smugness before releasing the cup. "But most things have become too heavy as of late."

Why couldn't Draco just say he was sad?! Harry sighed in frustration. Then he suddenly worried about drawing attention to himself.
Nobody responded to him though, so his focus awkwardly returned to what was happening in the interrogation room. It wasn't obvious from their respective demeanour which one of them was law enforcement. If anything, Draco's smugness made it more likely that it was him.
It wouldn't surprise Harry if Slytherins regularly played Interrogation Chicken amongst themselves. The winner could be whoever makes the other feel interrogated.
Would this be how they felt empowered?

Robards leaned back, exhaled, then nodded thoughtfully. "You have been asked to come to the department today to provide a statement. You do not have to say anything unless you wish to do so, but anything you do say will be taken down," - he gestured at the Quick-Quotes Quill — "and may be given in evidence. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded with exaggerated emphasis.

"We will provide you with the opportunity to arrange a solicitor, if you please."

"No, thank you sir." Draco said calmly.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and a woman behind him whispered 'idiot'.
He agreed. Declining a lawyer was stupid. Harry had told Draco he'd pay for one, hadn't he? What reason could he have to reject the offer?

Was he that smug? Did he not care what happened to him? Or did he think he would owe Harry if he accepted?

…and after what happened between them, what would he expect Harry to want in return… ?

…

Fuck.

"No-Majes hand lawyers out for free in the States," said Quiesko. "They do that here too?"

"Yeah I think so," Harry said morosely as a Chasm of Gloom opened underneath the butterflies inside of him. He wished his tea would turn into liquor.

"Alright," Robards paused as if he was about to broach a new topic.

Draco had plans of his own: "You interrogated my Father, didn't you sir?"

Oh no.

"I did." Robards said with a calm nod. "Made our lives very difficult, that man."

Draco nodded thoughtfully.

During the lull that followed, Robards sipped his tea and Quiesko saw the need to open his mouth: "His dad killed a ton of people," He said to his MACUSA colleagues behind them. "Died in the Purge."

There were some interested hums and ah's in response.

Harry indicated Draco with a nod. "He hasn't killed anyone," He tried not to sound short. "Had every opportunity to during the war, but didn't."
He didn't realise how true that was until he said it.
Draco had been younger and dumber, and he had always been petty and self-serving enough to do things purely for personal gain. Committing murder would have been the safest choice for him during the war… Yet he hadn't.

He didn't have it in him.

Harry's instincts already told him Draco hadn't done anything to Kerry, but he was glad to have logic to back him up.

"Oh yeah, didn't you testify for him?" asked Quiesko, casually interested, as Harry tried not to bristle at every sound the guy made.

Thankfully that was when Draco decided to speak again. "The war… changed him." He said gravely, though his face remained neutral. "He was going to change." He swallowed.

Harry more than doubted that.

Draco had to doubt that too, he wasn't stupid.

Yet he'd gone on about that Hogwarts curriculum bullshit yesterday, and he'd become rude to Johnny the second the man pushed him to question it. Not to mention that Draco had struggled through his lack of air to mention that his dad had been on the school board.
Draco had to be clinging to anything his dad ever told him, and all this lasagne and tarot and whatever were his desperate attempts to redeem him.
Harry didn't agree, but he could understand it.

Draco reluctantly continued. "I had no chance to experience it… or to say goodbye."

The waver in his voice was followed by Robards' encouraging nod.

"If there is any way for me to see this interrogation… I would -…" Draco nodded as if impatient with himself, "Tha-that would be incredibly valuable to me."

Harry's heart sank.
Someone behind him uttered a heartfelt 'aw'.

Robards nodded a single time, with emphasis. "I understand." He said like it was a conclusion. "Interrogations are not generally made available to third parties, but I recognise the exceptional nature of the circumstances and I will see what can be done."

The man had applied more pressure during Harry's job performance review. All of this had to be to build rapport.

Harry wasn't sure what to think beyond that. Draco had been interrogated before and he'd been incredibly confident on the way here today. He was also explicitly providing Robards with leverage. Harry didn't know whether that was a good move, but he hoped Draco would use his rhetoric tutelage for this.

Robards had continued to calmly nod. "You specifically requested for Auror Potter to witness you give your statement today." He sipped his tea without looking away from Draco, who returned the gaze. "Why is that?" Robards put his cup down, which probably meant something.

Draco watched it carefully before he met the man's eyes again. "Yes." He nodded to himself. "Auror Potter…" He thoughtfully sighed.

Harry's nerves surged and he tried to distract himself by wondering how long it would take to learn Teacup.

Draco hesitantly continued. "He is the only law enforcement official I trust."

Harry's face flared up along with the butterflies. Last time Draco had said anything like this the two of them had been within a silencing shield. That struck him as the best approach really… It didn't sound like the kind of thing that should be said publicly.

Robards looked interested.

"He has had every opportunity to harm me… yet he has not." Draco paused to breathe.

Draco hadn't said anything out of line and Harry was glad to have won his trust, but there was an uncomfortable edge to the feeling which made no sense. There had been so much going on lately that he hadn't had much attention available for Residue, though that was what he was supposed to focus on. Was it causing his discomfort somehow?
He didn't think it likely, but with some resignation he directed his focus to the feeling regardless. If what bothered him made sense he could at least exclude residue as a cause.

His mind helpfully provided him with the memory of Ginny complimenting his bed prowess to their friends and his face flared up.
Draco calling him decent should not have the same effect. So why did it feel just as intimate?

Harry uncomfortably pushed on.
What happened in these private moments wasn't the point, he was sure of that. The important part was that the moments were private. Yet now the information was shared, displayed to people who'd had nothing to do with it, people he had not chosen to share these things with. It had been out of his hands. Part of him was on display no matter what he might have thought of that. Wasn't he allowed to have unbroadcast moments? A little bit of self in relation to someone else without an audience? Some spent time only they got to keep? Was that too much to ask?

Apparently.

Was he being unreasonable? Probably, but it didn't feel like he was. His frustration was making his skin prickle as if he was wearing damp clothes and he tightly crossed his arms whilst holding onto his mug. He hated that people were witnessing this, seeing him, and he didn't know what to do with himself. He stifled his urge to squirm.

Draco casually continued. "I daresay he has even been civil at times."

…civil?

Civil?

Civil?!

What the fuck did 'civil' mean?!
That had to mean something, they had done nothing but speak in bullshit code from the second Robards walked in so what the fuck was Draco saying? Did 'civil' mean civil, or was Draco telling Robards that Harry had done something like Tristan had?

Harry felt like he'd been glorified and then crushed and part of him felt betrayed which made him feel like an idiot. Why had he trusted Draco to begin with? And why did he care so much?
The internal flutter meanwhile drove him insane.

Robards nodded, apparently having no doubts about whatever the fuck civil meant in this conversation.

Harry didn't think he could become any more uncomfortable and a powerlessness washed over him. He wouldn't know the extent of what Draco told Robards until after this 'statement' they hadn't even properly started.
Did anyone else watching understand? Did they now hate him? Would this cost him his job? Would he be arrested?
He wished he could vanish. He felt his mug crack in his hand and he placed it on the table so he could cross his arms so tightly he constricted his chest.

"Why do you suppose that is?" Robards asked, and Draco let out an incredulous small huff.

"Was he not supposed to be, sir?" A glimpse of that spark appeared in Draco's eyes, as if he'd caught Robards saying something stupid.

Harry's stomach dropped. This confirmed it.
'Civil' meant something horrid and Robards was going to start some investigation into his misconduct right after this statement and he'd be fired, arrested and publicly lynched as Draco slowly died of whatever the fuck Residue did to him.
A steady dripping sounded from beside him but he didn't dare look away.

Robards merely gave a slow encouraging nod, his face serious.

"Isn't that obvious?" Draco's tone suggested his own words were beneath him.

Was Draco playing some kind of game? Had he wanted Harry to watch because it made him feel powerful? Or was this similar to the situation with Tristan somehow?
Was that what Draco was telling Robards? That all his men were corrupt?

Harry wanted to vomit and he held himself tightly. A sudden crack! sounded from beside him followed by the sound of wet ceramic shards.

"Potter? Your mug exploded." Quiesko said confusedly.

Harry didn't look away from Draco as he irritably gestured a vanishing charm to rid of the mess.
People whispered behind him and he wanted to crawl out of his skin.

Draco looked like he'd spent long enough catching his breath.

Harry dreaded what was to come and a nasty little part of him hoped Draco would pass out before this got any worse. His heart beat in his ears and he had to consciously stifle the need to pace.

"Potter has nothing to gain from demeaning me. He has already proven himself to the world."

Harry did not know how to take that.

"… unlike most of the Aurors who have watched me as of late." Draco finished with some reluctance.

Robards looked curious.

Draco didn't respond.

Harry nearly frothed from stress.

"Please, elaborate." Robards made a gesture of invitation.

"…sir." Draco said pointedly. "I expect what I tell you to reach them, and I do not want their next shift to be my last."

"You fear vengeance?"

Draco nodded.

Robards appeared in thought.

Harry wished he could stop time in the department so he could run home, get the cloak, and hide underneath it until he knew what the fuck to do with himself.

Robards continued. "Have you been informed about the subject matter of the statement we are asking you to provide?"

"I assumed it would be — the day I lost my arm again." Draco's voice lost its strength before the end of his sentence.

"Why is that?" Robards asked calmly.

"It is… the statement that— …" Draco breathed. "Potter…, asked me to provide the other day." He slowly shut his eyes and breathed very steadily. "I intended to provide it in writing… but…" He shook his head and looked ready to pass out.

Robards position was alert. "Draco? There are Healers outside."

Draco shook his head and managed to utter "Invigor…" before his voice petered out.
Robards swiftly moved to steady him by the shoulder as a Healer entered and cast some of the charms Harry had got rather used to seeing.

Part of Harry wanted to pace but the risk of missing something was too great, especially after Draco's specific request for him to watch this whole thing. He felt sick though and when a few of the MACUSA lot left the room to get drinks for everyone, he asked for a water.
He caught snippets of their conversations though, things such as 'freakin' white guy', 'lack of body language', and 'out of his misery'.

It didn't take long for the deep orange beat of the Sign of Life to relax into a yellow. Draco was conscious by then and had been helped to one of the Invigoration Draughts. It hadn't had time to fully kick in but Draco seemed to be coming to on his own. He had uttered a tight dismissive 'thank you' and asked for the Sign of Life to be taken down.
Robards hesitated before granting this and reluctantly dismissed the Healer, on Draco's insistence.
Draco's face instantly looked less tight.

"What happened just now?" Robards asked.

Draco scoffed.

Harry braced himself.

"Sir." Draco stated, his faintness showing mostly in his lack of facial expression. "People in uniform have proven to have…" He paused, perhaps in thought — "…'adverse effects' on my well-being."

"How so?" asked Robards.

"Have you not read the monitoring log?" Draco's tone was exaggeratedly pitying.

This had to be a Wrong Box Moment and Harry braced himself.

"Those Healers haven't healed me, Sir… They waited for the Mark to eat my arm before they stepped in," He panted, exhausted and clearly not finished. "They didn't care about what happened to me… Much like your people didn't care about — …my Father — …until his arm sloughed off." He leaned heavily on the table to his side as he took his time to regain his breath.

Harry nearly forgot to breathe, dreading where this would go.

"And then," Draco continued, still panting, "I was sent home… to be watched, by some of those — …" His eyes shut as he struggled to regain his breath.

A murmur rose up behind Harry and someone chuckled.
Harry was just glad Draco had cut himself off. Part of him wanted to step in, do something, create a diversion maybe — but what would that do? It wouldn't only make Draco look more guilty, he would implicate himself too.
He crossed his arms to restrain his bristling, blaming the flutters for how unreasonably he was thinking.

"Take your time," said Robards calmly. "If you are unwell, we can continue at a later date."

"I don't think so," someone behind Harry bit.

Harry himself was exhausted.
His day had hardly started but not knowing where he stood was taxing, and the prospect of watching this for another hour or longer made him want to curl up in a corner somewhere.

Draco shook his head, still breathing heavily.
Robards asked him whether he needed anything and after Draco's 'no', a silence descended upon the interrogation room.

"This is taking forever," a man behind Harry said, "He hasn't even mentioned Petty yet."
Harry resignedly nodded in agreement though he didn't know whether the other was even looking at him.

"Rapport, Hank." A woman said, "Besides, at least this way whatever he says won't be inadmissible due to 'Coercion' or 'Duress'."

There was an affirmative grunt in response.

It didn't take long for Draco to regain himself.
Robards waited for him to straighten his posture and nod before he said "You were telling me about the Aurors who watched you after you left hospital."

That wasn't literally true, but Draco nodded and Harry made a mental note of Robards' approach. It would probably come in handy.

"Yes… Johnny— d'Errico and Zachary Quiesko." Draco said seriously.

Harry was pretty sure he'd only used their full names because he had almost referred to Johnny as only Johnny.

Robards nodded. "Tell me about them."

Draco looked thoughtful. "There isn't much to say about Auror d'Errico." He didn't look like he was lying. "He has been decent."

Harry chanced a glance at Quiesko beside him, who looked significantly less relaxed than before.

"Auror Quiesko, however…" Draco continued. He sounded careful, that was the best word for it. Careful and perhaps a little afraid.

"What did you do Zach?" A woman behind Harry asked in a teasing tone, but Quiesko ignored her.

Draco uncomfortably continued. "He… er… He has not been as concerned about my well-being…"

"How is that?" Robards asked calmly.

Draco hesitated. "Can you guarantee that he shall not monitor me again?"

Robards adjusted his posture. "I can't make any guarantees without knowing what happened."

Draco looked thoughtful, bit his lip, took his time…

Harry sipped his water to have something to do with himself but it didn't rid him of his worries. He set the glass down and crossed his arms again.
He hadn't been comfortable for a single second since he'd entered this room, but the way Draco was building this up made him expect something worse than he could imagine.
He turned to Quiesko, who was still leaning his bottom against the same table as himself. "…what did you do?" Harry asked, unable to stomach the silence.

Quiesko stiffly shook his head. "Nothing. I didn't touch him, didn't cast on him. Nothing at all."

Harry's mind went back to before he had taken this job, to the reason he had taken this job… He had overheard Quiesko recount he'd let Madam Malkins stab Draco with a needle. Not to mention the lack of log entries during his shifts in St Mungo's… and wasn't there more?
Harry remembered Draco telling him about Quiesko saying some vile things but with everything going on, the details had fallen between the cracks in his brain.
Harry fixed his gaze on the side of Quiesko's head. "Protective monitoring is half the job you know." He said softly as he kept his rising temper in check.

"I know." Quiesko bit. "I did that, — "

"You're a bad liar." Harry stated softly with absolute certainty.
In response, a sheen of sweat appeared on the other's temple.

When Draco took a breath as if he was about to speak, Harry realised the people behind himself had already fallen silent. Though he felt eyes burn in his back, he fixed his attention on Draco's face again, not sure how to stomach the nervous butterfly mix inside of him.

"Tell me what he did." Robards stated with calm certainty.

Draco swallowed and nodded. "He condescended to me. Provoked me."

Harry heard some breaths of relief from other people in the room.

"That could be anything." Said Robards, not too harshly. "You will have to be more specific."

Draco pressed his lips together, then sat more upright still. "He let an entire crowd of people mock me."

Robards made a head gesture as if he considered it. "He 'let them', did he…? Even the best Auror can't see everything at all times, something might get through…"
It wasn't quite a question.

"They spat on me."

"That can't have been pleasant." Robards paused a beat. "It doesn't necessarily show malice from the Auror monitoring you. It shows inattentiveness, perhaps…" His nasal exhale made his moustache move and his tone and demeanour became gentler: "I've spoken to many people… Well-mannered people, raised in ways similar to yourself."

Harry snorted. He would describe Draco as many things, but 'well-mannered' wasn't one of them.

Robards leaned the slightest bit closer, giving the conversation a confidential vibe. "You've been taught to avoid specificity unless you intend to provoke, isn't that right?"

Draco guardedly nodded.

Robards clearly expected that confirmation and sat more upright. His tone shifted too, as if he got back in character. "I can't make staffing decisions based on implication and conjecture, I'm sure you understand."

Draco's posture straightened too and his tone became firmer. "Please, allow me to clarify."

They looked like they were performing some kind of play and Harry didn't know what that meant. Had they been doing that from the start? Was this another level of bullshit? Or should he take this at face value? Where was the fucking line?
The helplessness in his core roared with frustration among the flutter, which wasn't helped by the tension radiating from every corner of the room he was in.

"Auror Quiesko repeatedly, insistently commented on matters out of my — control." Draco took a 'deep' breath. "Such as the fit of my sleeves, how one ought to use cutlery, how long things take me since I — …" He slowly raised his stump to indicate it and lowered it again. The movement seemed to take the colour from his face and he took a moment to breathe.

There was a rapping on the door to Harry's left and he forced his attention to remain on what happened in front of him, in Interrogation Room ᚱ1.
This had happened dozens of times so far: Someone Important demanded he would abandon whatever he was doing so they could shake his hand and waste his time. Well: Not today.

"Quiesko." Himmelman stated authoritatively.

Surprised, Harry looked to the doorway and saw Meyers, the president of MACUSA, over Himmelman's shoulder.
Then Harry glanced to his other side, where Quiesko stiffly looked ahead as he held his arms crossed, continuously shaking his head.

Though there were about a dozen people behind them, all of them were dead silent.

"He continuously spoke about my Father." Draco continued, unaware of what was happening, tense but not noticeably faint. "He gave suggestions… for how to… utilise his remains… Described his… passing… in detail… Listed reasons it was justified… "

Robards nodded, clearly listening intently.

Himmelman remained focused on Quiesko.

Harry tried to split his attention on all of this without missing anything.

"And," Draco said as if he was about to mention the worst thing of all, "He insulted my Mother."

Harry scoffed.
He was glad Quiesko hadn't done anything worse, but that an insult took the cake for Draco was just fucking typical.

It wasn't until Robards quirked an eyebrow that Draco elaborated: "He has repeatedly insinuated that she, — survived the War through… — promiscuity."

Harry had witnessed firsthand how some of his colleagues spoke about women. It could get vile, especially with drinks involved. And he'd been there as 'one of the guys'. He could only imagine what Quiesko had said to Draco, someone he actually intended to offend.

Heat rose in Harry's chest and there was an edge to the air in his throat as his fists balled of their own accord. This was a worse insult than he'd expected and knowing one of his direct colleagues said it didn't help in the slightest.

A voice in the back of Harry's mind reminded him that Draco had never shied away from insulting his mum. Draco might not have gone as far, but he'd also been much younger.

"Quiesko." Himmelman demanded from the doorway, briskly beckoning him over.

Quiesko pushed himself away from the table, incidentally making it scoot back a little. "Everybody's thinking it, I just said it out loud," He said, under his breath but loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Yeah, we're all imagining Narcissa Malfoy sleeping her way through a legion of Death Eaters." Harry scoffed. "That's not mental."

Quiesko stopped and turned to him as if he only just realised he was there.

"What." Harry stated. "Expected a high five?"

"What the Hell Potter?" Confused anger dawned on Quiesko's face. "That family is rotten. They fought against you, remember?"

"They're people." Harry bit. "You were supposed to protect them."

"Have you lost your damn mind?" Quiesko gestured at the surveillance charm they had been looking through, "They're parasites, get away with everything! They suck up all the wealth and —-"

"And then they lost it all and you kicked them when they're down." Harry's temper rose beyond himself.

Quiesko scoffed and looked about as if for backup. "You're a Junior! You don't underst-"

"Oh, I understand, believe me." Harry took a step towards him, fists balled so tightly his nails dug in his palms. Rage oozed from his pores as a crystalline breeze stung his skin. "I've met plenty of people who enjoy making others feel powerless."

Quiesko stared at him in enraged bewilderment when Himmelman's hand on his shoulder snapped him out of it.
"Enough," said Himmelman, "Quiesko, with me."

Harry did not avert his gaze.
Though the other had turned away he still felt as if he was making eye contact, as if the world was the backdrop for an entity he couldn't fathom.
He hardly processed Atticus Meyers' curious glance in his direction as he leaned his bottom against the table once more, trying to will his pulse to calm itself as it wooshed through his ears as meaningless configurations of colour and light moved in the space ahead of him.
He flexed his hands to undo the strain of balling his fists and found a white glittery residue on them. He raised it to the light so he could see it better.

"Your glass pulverised, it's all over the room," Said a woman calmly from behind him. Then, more carefully. "You are that guy, aren't you?"

Some of Harry's buzzing tunnel vision started to lose its rigidity but he didn't know what she was talking about.

"What guy?" He asked as if he wasn't really there.

"The one who killed them all."

He was on the verge of processing what she said, of turning to her, of anything at all, when the scene in the interrogation room ahead of him snapped into meaning once more.

Draco Malfoy righted his posture, as if confident, as if fine, and asked Head Auror Robards: "Could you send Auror Potter to see me, sir?"

Nearly all Harry introspection in this character is shaped on input from TheBoxInWhichHeCats. 3 I don't know if I mentioned this but they helped me love Harry as a character, whereas before he was only the canon POV to me. 3
In the tail end of this chapter, the last Harry-ness I wrote was when he wouldn't consider Draco well-mannered. Then I wrote how Quiesko left after pushing himself away from the table… and then the only event in the chapter was Robards' and Draco's conversation coming to an end, and that was it. The end of the chapter was dull. Boring. And I didn't know what the problem was.
I didn't realise that Harry, my POV character, might as well have left the building! BUT! TBIWHC SPOTTED IT! They pointed out I had two scenes unfolding at the same time, and I should make the boring one the one with all the stakes — and omg they were right! THEY MADE THIS SO GOOD and they NAILED the Harry vs. Quiesko thing near they end :D This was their favourite chapter to help with so far :D 3 I love it so much, I hope you did too! If you read this, please give them some love for their awesome work 3