Chapter 2: Draco
Nothing I Would Not Do
"There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature." — Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
Earlier that day—
Monday, March 19, 2007
Malfoy Manor
The surface of the potion was steel gray and simmering. Vapors rose like raindrops in reverse, shooting up in globules before dissipating into the air a meter above the copper cauldron. Draco could feel the sweat run down the back of his neck as he crushed a measure of bicorn horn in the stone mortar and pestle.
When the powder was fine enough, Draco set aside the pestle, wiped his hands on the front of his apron, and began sprinkling the substance evenly across the surface of the potion. The powder floated, undulating along with the simmer of the liquid. Draco set down the empty mortar and pulled out his wand. He waved it in an even stroke above the cauldron, and suddenly the vapors halted. The globules that had yet to burst fell back into the cauldron. When they hit the liquid, the powdered bicorn horn sunk into the potion's depths.
Draco picked up a copper rod and stirred the potion slowly, three times clockwise and three times counterclockwise. He removed the rod at the precise end of the final stir and let out the breath he had been holding in.
He stoked the flame underneath the cauldron, stepped back, and stared. This was it. He must have gotten it right this time. After over two years of failed batches, accidental explosions, and one case of toxic vapors, finally, this batch would be right. Draco held his wand low and tapped it nervously against his thigh.
It felt like an hour, but the clock on the far wall of the potions lab told Draco it had only been two minutes. He let his mind wander.
Twenty-nine: the number of Potions Masters he had contacted over the last eight years to seek an apprenticeship. Coincidentally, it was also the number of rejections he had received in reply. Even an Outstanding N.E.W.T. score and a full exoneration from the Ministry of Magic could not eradicate the black mark on the Malfoy name in a world living after the fall of the Dark Lord.
At first, it had felt like a gift that the Ministry removed legal stewardships of all Malfoy properties from Lucius and Narcissa and bestowed them to Draco. Then, when the quiet resentment and anger emanated from Lucius like a poison fog, it felt like a curse. By the time the Ministry had taken their reparations and stripped Malfoy Manor bare, it felt like a cruel joke.
In the end, no amount of philanthropic efforts his mother spearheaded could ease the stares. No amount of time his father lived in obscurity could erase the memories. Eventually, after the probations ended, Lucius and Narcissa abandoned Britain for their property in France, and Draco did not go with them.
He lived in the cellar.
To be specific, he lived in one of the cellars. Not the one in which his classmates had been imprisoned, starved, and tortured—that had been sealed and barricaded off many years ago. Draco lived on the opposite side of the Manor in a suite extending from his potions lab. He hardly ever went to other parts of the building, not when almost a decade later the memories, good and bad, still haunted him.
But this potion, if it succeeded, could change everything. Even the Potions Masters' Guild would have to listen. A citation in the journal, at least—perhaps even a provisional Mastery certificate, if they would ever allow him to take the exams.
The fire underneath the cauldron sparked. A glance at the clock showed nine minutes had passed. Draco stepped forward and leaned over the vessel. Suddenly, the steel gray sheen of the liquid began to clear. One by one the particles dissipated until the potion appeared as clear as water.
"Yes!" Draco cried. The powdered bicorn horn had reacted with the stewed fluxweed juices to purify the sheen of the potion, just as he had theorized. Hopefully, this meant that the after-effects would be cleansed as well.
"Muffy!" Draco called out.
A pop sounded, and a small house elf wearing a pink satin babydoll dress appeared.
"Yes, Master Draco?" Muffy asked enthusiastically.
"Don't call me Master, please, Muffy," said Draco tiredly for the fiftieth time that month.
Muffy blushed, looking down at her stocking-clad feet. "Sorry. What does … Draco… need?" His name came out slightly strangled but with much improvement over the choked whispers of years ago, when Draco had demanded Muffy abandon his title.
"Bring me the large mirror from Mother's quarters, please," Draco requested.
Muffy nodded eagerly. "Yes, sir," and disappeared. A few seconds later she reappeared, this time with a full-length gilt-edged mirror hovering behind her. She placed the mirror in the corner of the lab and turned to face Draco.
"Thank you, Muffy, you may go now." Draco nodded. The elf wrung her tiny hands into the clean hem of her garment. Draco noticed her anxious hesitation and quirked an eyebrow. "What do you need, Muffy?" He asked.
"Will … Draco… be using one of his potions?" Muffy questioned, her dark eyes wide.
"Yes," Draco said slowly.
"Will he be falling on the floor?" Muffy's eyes welled up with unshed tears as she gazed at him.
Draco softened his expression. "No, Muffy, everything will be fine. Not like that time last year. Just … come here and check on me in ten minutes."
"Muffy will be back." The elf shifted her weight on her feet a few times before looking up at Draco with a narrow-eyed, stern expression. " Dracowill be careful," she scolded. And then she disappeared with a pop.
Draco shook his head in exasperation. Muffy was the only elf Draco allowed to remain at the Manor with him when his parents left, and over the last three years, she had taken to mothering him in his own mother's absence. Some days she was the only other living being with whom he interacted. She knew quite a bit about magical solutions and tinctures used for cleaning and had given Draco some ideas over the years for his experiments.
Draco decanted one measure of his potion into a glass vial and brought it with him to stand in front of the mirror. Holding the vessel in his left hand, he took his wand in his right and began the process he had undertaken for so many batches before.
He cast several glamours on his face. First, he charmed his platinum blonde hair into a dark shade of brown. Then, he turned his grey eyes to blue. Finally, he transfigured the paleness of his skin to have a golden tan.
He put his wand back into the pocket of his trousers. Taking a deep breath, he raised the vial of potion upward, and—
A wailing sounded from his living quarters. Draco jumped up in shock, almost spilling the potion on the floor.
"Sweet Salazar! Wha—"
Draco gingerly set the vial down on the top of his work table and meandered his way through the tables and shelves around his lab across to the door to his sitting room. He was only halfway there when he could hear a voice call out.
"Draco! Draaa-cooo! Draco Lucius Malfoy get out of bed and come here immediately you lazy hermit."
Draco rolled his eyes and opened the heavy wooden door. The walls of his sitting room were lined completely with bookshelves that were all packed to the brim. The stone floor was covered with ornate green rugs, and the furniture was warm brown leather. In the hearth of the red-brick fireplace was the head of Theodore Nott.
"Shut up, Theo, I'll have you know that Ihave been up all morning and youhave just interrupted an extremely precarious testing procedure." As Draco spoke, he walked over to the fireplace and sat in an armchair before the fire.
"What the fuck," Theo said. "Why do you look like Harry Potter?"
Draco blanched. He pulled out his wand and cast several quick, nonverbal finites as Theo snickered loudly.
"Oh do shut up," Draco retorted. He walked over to the sole picture frame on one of his bookshelves, checking that the color of his hair was back to normal in the dim reflection. The picture was of him and his mother, smiling, during one of his early years at Hogwarts.
"You know what I'm working on," Draco said as he returned to the fire. "What do you want?"
"How absolutely hospitable of you," Theo sniffed haughtily. "Years of friendship brutally rebuffed as my body sits precariously between two worlds. How tragically poetic."
Draco sighed tiredly. "Would you like to come through?"
"Much better," Theo replied happily. "Be right in!"
Theo's head flickered out of sight, and Draco leaned back in his armchair wearily. A moment later, the flames flashed green and his closest friend stepped into the room.
"Aren't you a sight?" Theo declared as he plopped himself in the armchair directly across from Draco. "I can't be sure, but I am optimistic my news will cheer you up."
"Please do go on, then," Draco drawled. "And then leave post-haste. As I mentioned, I was in the middle of something."
"What—no tea? No biscuits? Your solitary bachelorhood has robbed you of the impeccable manners dear Narcissa worked so hard to instill in you. For shame," Theo lamented with extremely over-dramatic arm movements.
"You," Draco said, "are the worst."
"Thank you," Theo replied. "And I was quite serious about some tea, I am positively parched."
Draco groaned, "Fine." But before he could call Muffy, a distraught cry sounded through the open door to his potions lab.
"Oh! Master Draco is gone! Vanished! Oh, what will Muffy do? What will Muffy tell the poor mistress?" This was followed by a high-pitched wail.
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Muffy!" He called.
With a pop, Muffy appeared between Draco and Theo. She was sprawled on the carpet and large droplets of tears seeped out of her tennis ball-sized eyes. She continued to cry incessantly.
"Muffy!" Draco asserted.
With a choked gasp, Muffy looked up at Draco from the floor and clambered to her feet.
"Master is here," she uttered, astonished. "Master is alive!" Her eyes began to shed tears anew.
"It's alright, Muffy, and again it is Draco, not Master or Master Draco," Draco said indulgently, reaching down to pat his house elf lightly on the head. "Would you please bring some tea, Muffy?"
Muffy did not reply, but rather let out a small cry and popped away. A moment later a bone china tea set and biscuits appeared on the low table between Draco and Theo.
"Does that happen a lot?" Theo asked casually as he put two sugars in his tea.
"Fairly," Draco said as he sipped the steaming liquid.
"You need to get out of this mausoleum more often," Theo pierced Draco with one of his signature looks: a sarcastic tilt of his mouth and a somberness within his dark eyes.
"What is your Earth-shaking news, Theodore?" Draco insisted with a light roll of his eyes.
Theo took a large gulp of tea, set his cup down, and clapped his hands.
"How would you like to accompany me to the Ministry of Magic this afternoon?" He spoke brightly as if that wasn't one of the most ridiculous questions Draco had ever heard.
"I would like that about as much as I would like to fling my body into the den of a manticore," Draco replied in a matching falsely bright tone.
Theo sighed. "I've been called in for questioning regarding some unknown magical items that I allegedly provided to less-than-reputable figures in Knockturn," he recited. "You are many things. Namely, my best friend—though my options these last years are remarkably slim—"
Draco scoffed.
"—but also, you are the only licensed magical law representative with whom I am acquainted—"
"I did that as a darewhen we were drunk in the middle of the day—"
"—and today I find myself in need of legal representation—"
"—can't possiblyexpect me to use that license—"
"—and I know you would not so cruelly abandon me in my time of need—"
"—that's rich coming from you, the very person who left me alone—"
"—I knewyou would bring that up—"
"—during an illegal card game just last week with extremely dubious company—"
"—you were fineand as you well know, I was drenched in giggle-water of all things, spasming all over the White Wyvern—"
"—pretty sure those blokes were attempting to traffic Wampus cubs—"
"Draco," Theo insisted, and the blonde wizard stopped. "I have not been selling anything in Knockturn. It's a bit difficult for Death Eater spawn to get legal help at the last minute, even with our notoriously deep pockets."
They stared at one another in silence for a long moment.
Draco moaned. "Alright, alright!" He growled and pointed at his friend's lanky face, "But you owe me for this."
"You," Theo said, "are a saint. And I want you to remember this moment of compassion and solidarity should anything go wrong today."
Draco glared. "Tell me about your summons."
"I don't know more than what I've already told you, I'm afraid," Theo said. "The summons was from that Hufflepuff ponce Smith, who I suppose is an Auror now."
"I hate you," Draco declared at the thought of interacting with a pompous Hufflepuff. "And are you sure you are innocent?"
It was Theo's turn to glare. "I dabble in magical research that may or may not involve unique objects." He sniffed. "But I would never deign to relinquish any such objects to the likes of the Knockturn crowd."
Draco nodded in agreement. "Well," he said, "I'd better change."
"Indeed," Theo agreed, nose wrinkling. "Shower while you're at it. I don't want my representation to reek of potion fumes."
"Careful," Draco warned. "I can still change my mind."
"I think," Theo said, "that you're as excited to ruffle some Hufflepuff feathers as I am." He smirked.
Draco knew the ins and outs of magical law by accident. The months he spent on house arrest before his Wizengamot trial were filled with stress and boredom, and he read about the law to determine the worst of what the government would do to him. The answer ended up being not much, thanks to the self-righteous testimony of Harry Potter, of all people. But Draco had been prepared for fifteen years to life in Azkaban for attempted murder and the use of Unforgivable curses.
The Ministry was as odious as Draco remembered. The last time he had appeared in its halls he was more than a little tipsy—and it was to file for his magical law license after drunkenly passing a laughable policy examination on enchanted parchment. Draco didn't remember much from that particular excursion, except that the beleaguered file clerk on duty that day did not treat him with the open hostility that most did these days. Overall, it was one of the more successful public appearances since he had left Hogwarts, made all the better by a drunken, rambling Theo and equally intoxicated Blaise Zabini.
The wizard manning the check-in desk when Draco approached with Theo and his summons was another story. He recognized them both after only a few moments, but the brunt of his hateful stares was, of course, directed at Draco. Theo avoided a Ministry trial when the Dark Lord fell, and on top of that, he was graced with a distinguished but nondescript appearance. Draco used to feel pride in his unmistakable hair, but more often than not these days he resented it.
"We have an appointment with Zacharias Smith at the Auror Office," Theo said, placing his papers on the desk.
The wizard didn't say a word to the pair, only scoffed and scanned their wands before handing over their visitors' badges begrudgingly.
"We are off to an auspicious start," Theo muttered to Draco when they entered a crowded lift. People were staring, but at the very least no one evacuated at their sight.
"Auspicious?" Draco asked dubiously.
"No one has hexed you," Theo noted. Draco huffed and tilted his chin upward, deliberately avoiding looking around him.
When they reached Level Two, Draco followed Theo out sullenly, ignoring the murmurs that sounded around them. They walked down the corridor and approached the front desk at the Auror Office, manned by a diminutive witch with mousy brown hair who beheld them with alarm.
"Hello Miss…Harris," Theo said, squinting at the gold name tag on her lapel. "I am here to see Auror Smith at his request," he announced, sliding his summons across the wooden desk toward the witch, "with a legal representative." He inclined his head toward Draco, who stood to his left.
"Er…" the witch began, looking down at the summons with trepidation. "Please wait here." And then she scurried off like a squirrel.
Draco appraised their surroundings. The area feeding off from the corridor was a wide circle lined with a series of heavy wooden doors that led to offices. Most doors were closed, but several were open, and wizards and witches milled in and out. The center of the space was filled with low cubicles and desks covered with paperwork. The typical ministry memos flew about independently, but overall the office appeared quiet.
The mousy witch, Harris, returned from one of the offices, eyes wide with unspoken concern.
"Please follow me," she said, setting off down the corridor.
"Wonderful," Theo clapped his hands and set off after the witch. Draco followed.
The witch brought them to a door marked Interrogation Room Three. She tapped the knob with her wand and held it open for them. "Please wait in here and Auror Smith will be with you shortly."
"Thank you," Theo told her with suspicious joviality. Draco said nothing.
Inside, they sat on two metal chairs on one side of a metal table. The room had a slate floor and walls with a window directly across from the door showing an assuredly false view of a green meadow. Draco knew from extensive experience before his trial that people would gaze through the other side of that window. He glared. The witch let the door close behind them, and Theo and Draco were alone.
"Why were we brought directly to an interrogation room?" Draco asked under his breath. "This is not typical unless you're under arrest."
"I'm sure we're getting special treatment. I suppose I should be flattered that they think so highly of me," Theo replied dryly. "Just remember, don't lose your temper."
"Me?" Draco uttered in astonishment. "I should be telling you that."
Theo scoffed in disbelief. "Sure."
"As at least one filing cabinet in these hallowed halls will attest, I am a professional," Draco sniffed. "I would never debase myself in such a way."
"We'll see."
At that moment, the door swung open and the meaty blonde figure of Zacharias Smith sauntered in, tailed by a weedy teenager in trainee robes. Smith approached the table without a word and dropped a file of papers on the top. The teenager sat nervously in a chair in the far corner.
"Trainee Galway will be observing," Smith said without introduction. He paused, and Draco could see the inner turmoil underneath his skin before he spoke next. " Thank you," he choked, "for coming in today."
Smith discretely glanced at the false mirror, which Draco noticed. Someone wason the other side, then.
Draco sat tall and spoke first with perhaps a bit too much bravado. "It is our pleasure, Auror Smith. How can my clientand I help you today?"
Theo smirked. Smith glared and then sat down.
"Well, Mr. Nott—"
"Now, now," Theo interjected despite the severe look Draco turned upon him. "Are we not on a first-name basis? We have all known each other for," he paused to flit his forefinger in the air as if doing some mental math, "what—is that sixteen years? My, my," he continued, "seems as though we should be more familiar, Zacharias."
Smith's neck started turning red. "That's Auror Smithto you—"
"How disappointing," Theo tutted. "Well, I suppose it must be LordNott then if we're being official."
Draco gaped in incredulity for a moment before scrambling to save the situation. Had Smith not been so astonished, Draco knew there would be shouting in mere moments. "Yes, well, semantics aside, why don't you let us know the details of the situation and how we might be able to help."
Draco pierced Theo with a hard glare as if to say: Why are you making this more difficult for me, you utter ponce, I'm only here because you asked.
From Theo, a smirk implying: I'm having fun, how about you?
Draco's eyes narrowed, exuding: Watch yourself. I'll bedelighted if they arrest you.
Theo, haughtily: Fine, go on then.
As this nonverbal barrage unfolded over a few seconds, Smith had worked himself into a rage.
"Listen here, you Slytherin scum," he spat. "You were spotted on no less than two occasions," he opened his file and slammed a magical photograph on the table, "entering a shop on Knockturn Alley that this department now knows to have been a front for the illegal trafficking of unlicensed enchanted objects."
Draco sat forward and peered at the photograph. It was dark, and an argument could be made that the figure opening the door to Raging Karl's Cloth and Ragswas someone other than Theodore Nott. Draco having known Theo for his entire life, however, knew it was him. Smith knew it, too, from the menacing stare he threw across the table. Draco turned to look at Theo and was surprised to find his friend's eyebrows knit together in confusion.
"Setting the matter of dubious identity aside, it is not illegal to patronize a clothing store," Draco said evenly. A glance at the photograph confirmed that the clothing store was quite a generous phrase for that particular establishment. He continued, "Can you tell us more about this alleged front? Is there evidence that my client was involved in any illegal activity?"
Smith let out a breath through flared nostrils before replying. "An anonymous informant has suggested that Lord Nottfrequently sold certain illegal objects."
"That's ridiculous. What objects?" Theo asked. His tone was guarded.
Smith pulled out another photograph. It showed a smooth black stone of unknown scale—sloppy evidence documentation, Draco noted—covered in carved runes. The crevices of the runes glowed with light.
"We have reports of at least three of these types of stones that have had unpredictable reactions to spellwork," he said. "In one case the stone reacted just to the presence of wizards."
"What kinds of reactions?" Draco asked. He was mostly curious, and he forgot for a moment to check with Theo. Looking over, he noticed that Theo held an expression of complete indifference. To most people that wouldn't mean anything, but Draco knew that he only took on that non-expression when he was extremely deep in thought. His eyes were glued to the photograph.
"This particular stone incapacitated an entire room of investigators," Smith sneered.
"Incapacitated?" Draco questioned.
"Knocked out, like a stunner," Smith grunted. He snapped his head toward Theo. "What kind of magic is this?"
Theo startled. "I haven't seen an objectstun someone before."
"We know you made this," Smith said, his voice raising in volume. "What dark magic did you use?"
"Hey!" Draco scowled. "Unless you have something else to show us, this has all been baseless accusations, hearsay, and circumstantial evidence."
Theo's cheeks were tinged with red. "Yeah, Smith. Sorry you can't close a case to save your pathetic career, but I'm afraid this will be a dead end for you."
Smith slammed his hands on the table, " Bullshit!" He stood up. "WHAT DARK MAGIC DID YOU USE?"
Draco rather thought the situation had escalated much too quickly, and Smith had a bit more of an anger problem than previously anticipated.
Theo stood up. Perhaps Smith wasn't the only one.
"I have NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS."
"IT'S A SIMPLE QUESTION."
"THE ONLY THING SIMPLE IN HERE IS YOU, YOU THICK-HEADED BOOR."
"I'LL SAY IT SLOWLY. WHAT—DARK—MAGIC—DID—YOU—USE?"
"For the last time,I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT—YOU—ARE—TALKING—ABOUT!"
Smith growled in a way that reminded Draco of a Mountain Troll. Draco, meanwhile, was thinking quickly about how to de-escalate, but he had his anger to deal with as well. This entire state of affairs was completely off-color. The only thing that would make it worse would be—
The door opened.
" Okay,looks like we are off to a great start."
Of course. Of course, it was Potter.
"Bloody typical," Draco muttered. He stood up and turned on Theo, whispering frantically, "Our professional arrangement is heretofore resolved.I did not sign up for this ."
"Forget it, Harry," Smith sneered across the table. "I think we're going to need to requisition some Veritaserum."
"Zach," Potter said forcefully. "That's enough." He sighed in exasperation, eyes trained on the ceiling. "I don't have time for this."
Draco scoffed.
Potter looked at him thoughtfully. "Malfoy."
"Potter," Draco replied.
Potter turned to look at Theo. "Nott," he nodded.
"Potter," Theo said, crossing his arms.
With a weary sigh, Potter turned to a conspicuously silent Smith and spoke seriously. "Zach, wait here with Galway."
Draco had completely forgotten about the diminutive trainee seated in the corner. He glanced over and noted that the boy had his mouth completely open and his eyes were flitting quickly around at each of the other people in the room like a newborn mooncalf.
Potter continued, "Nott, Malfoy, why don't we go to my office? Please," he gestured toward the open door.
Draco stood unmoving. Theo elbowed him and muttered under his breath, "Come on."
They moved into the corridor, and Potter closed the door behind them.
"Sorry about that," Potter said flatly. "Follow me."
He walked swiftly down the corridor back to the circular pit of cubicles. It turned out the office closest to the welcome desk was their destination. A nameplate reading Senior Auror Harry Potteradorned the door.
Potter turned the knob and walked right in, calling, "Have a seat," over his shoulder.
The Auror walked into his extremely messy office and sat behind a desk that Draco assumed was wooden, but he could not confirm due to the mass of crumpled papers. The walls were covered with framed pictures, newspaper clippings, and several certificates and medals.
Draco and Theo looked at one another for a moment before taking their seats in matching padded red straight-backed chairs. Draco closed the door behind them. When he was settled, he looked over at Theo to his left. His friend looked casual, almost bored, but his dark eyes were alive beneath the loose fringe of his brown hair, and they bore into Potter's as the Auror scrutinized him back.
"Been a while, Potter," Theo said. "Vanquish any Dark Lords lately?"
"Not much, no," Potter retorted. "I would ask if you've bullied any Hufflepuffs lately, but I just witnessed the answer."
The corner of Theo's mouth quirked upward. "Today has been quite diverting."
Draco was not amused. "What is the deal, Potter? Is Theodore a suspect in a crime? I'll have you know under Clause 12A of the Statute for Criminal Investigations, a suspect must be placed under arrest with the presentation of actual evidence of a crime," he raised a finger pointedly, "or otherwise can agree to participation with an investigation, which we have done," a pause for emphasis, "under reasonable expectation of nonaggressivequestioning."
"Nice to see you, too, Malfoy," Potter responded, frowning. "I didn't know you were proficient in Ministry criminal statutes."
Draco sniffed haughtily, "I am proficient in many things, Potter."
Theo grinned. "Only most of those things are sexual." Draco rolled his eyes. Theo added, "He's technicallylicensed in magical law."
Potter furrowed his brows. "I thought you do potions—"
"I do many things, Potter," Draco interrupted and scowled. He avoided looking at Theo. Leave it to Potter to betray his biggest secret after so many years. Thankfully, Potter continued to speak.
"Delightful." Potter pinched the bridge of his nose. "Again, sorry. Zach has had late-night stakeouts the last two days. He's a bit on edge."
It was Theo's turn to scoff. "An understatement if I ever heard one."
"You are not under arrest if that wasn't clear," Potter said. He pressed on, "The object Zach showed you has caused a stir. The room full of investigators he mentioned included Zach himself, so he is quite…interested in figuring out who made it." He scrutinized them over the surface of his desk. "Nott, your name was mentioned in passing by someone we questioned three days ago. They said you are around Knockturn often, usually dealing with objects, but nothing tying you to that particular stone."
"That's bollocks. Am I to be presumed guilty then?" Theo questioned testily. "It's not a crime to be in Knockturn Alley, last I checked. In fact, I think the real crime in that area would be the rampant cleansing of magical diversity. If anything, gentrificationis the true criminal—"
"Yes, Theodore, we can discuss the liberalization of magic at another time," Draco interrupted, knowing the beginning of an over-dramatic monologue when he heard it.
"Was the object familiar to you?" Potter asked, unfazed.
"Not particularly," Theo replied, crossing his arms. "I've seen many rocks in my lifetime."
"I thought it was unusual to use Marcomannic runes on a mineral-based material," Draco mused.
Potter perked up. "Why is that?"
"Well, it's a young alphabet and remarkably unstable when combined with magically conductive objects," Draco said. He sat up straighter, noticing Theo's eyes were wide. "Not that I know anything about that, Potter." He added his well-practiced sneer to the end of the sentence.
Potter was silent in thought for a moment before speaking. "The object is not overtly dark magic, but it is unstable." He paused again. "It's been hard to get any information on the three stones we have confiscated. If you two happen to come across any more information, I would appreciate it if you'd send an owl." He looked at Theo and added, "As patrons invested in the future of Knockturn Alley, of course."
Draco balked. Was Potter asking them for help? Theo looked equally gobsmacked.
Potter noticed their reactions. "Listen, there are many here at the DMLE who wouldpresume you guilty just by your names and one blurry photograph," he said seriously. "But as I said in the interrogation room, I don't have timefor old grudges taking over an investigation. You two served out your probations, your trial," he nodded to Draco who glared back, "and this isn't Hogwarts anymore."
"How positively scrupulous of you, Potter," Theo spat. "Shall we harmonize our alma mater? I'll take the baritone."
Draco looked at his friend in alarm. The tone of his voice was menacing, revealing Theo's anger. It was rare to see any true emotion from behind his friend's aristocratic mask.
Potter's hands clenched on top of his desk. "Just because I don't suspect you based on the information we have now doesn't mean more evidence will not come up. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt," he turned his head to each of them pointedly before going on, "You would both do well to remember that."
Potter and Theo stared at one another, brows furrowed in annoyance.
Draco nodded and spoke. "Message received, Potter. Is he free to go?"
A chime sounded from somewhere in the room. Draco looked around but could not find a source. The sound broke the tense atmosphere, and Potter straightened his posture.
"Yes you're both free to leave once you sign a parchment certifying that you willingly participated in questioning today," Potter said. He looked around his desk for a moment and sighed. "Let me just grab that from Zach in the interrogation room."
Potter stood up and walked to the door, opening it. "Wait here. I'm leaving the door open."
"Whatever," Theo said sullenly. Potter scowled and left the room.
Once he was gone, Draco turned sharply to Theo and hissed, "What the bloody hellis going on, Theodore?"
"Not here," Theo ground out through gritted teeth.
"This," Draco said, gesturing between them, "was the worst idea you have ever had, and I utterly abhor you."
"You'll live," Theo responded.
"I am never coming here again," Draco declared. "Can I un-file a license in magical law?"
"I wouldn't do that just yet. We both might get arrested at any moment. Did you see Smith? He has it out for us. 'Slytherin scum'—as if he's fifteen in the Great Hall again." Theo shook his head in exasperation.
"You riled him up!" Draco barked. Noticing the volume of his voice, he continued in a half-whisper. "You said you wanted to ruffle some Hufflepuff feathers, not openly taunt an Auror in the Ministry of Magic itself."
"Yes, well, I guess I was the one to lose their temper today," Theo allowed. "I'll remember that the next time you lose yours."
Draco huffed and crossed his arms.
Theo turned toward him. "How about I pop out one of my father's most prized Elfish wines and bring it to yours?"
Draco grumbled, "It better be a good vintage." He pointed at Theo's face, "And don't think you're getting out of telling me what you know about this."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Theo replied with his hands up in surrender.
"I think Blaise was planning on stopping by tonight, too," Draco noted. "We can all commiserate."
"What is Blaise commiserating?" Theo asked, turning in his chair with pointed interest.
"You know," Draco began. He waved a hand in the air. "The trials of all-expenses-paid diplomatic trips around the Continent. Honestly, I can't keep track of that man."
Theo hummed thoughtfully. "Neither can I."
The room fell into silence for a long moment. Draco couldn't remember the last time he saw Theo and Blaise in the same room.
"Have you seen Blaise recently?" Draco asked. "I swear he only replies to one of every five owls I send him. But he is supposed to be home today."
Theo shrugged. "He will probably forget to come anyway." A quirked eyebrow. "And finally we can have a proper date night, you and me."
"Never say that phrase to me again," Draco retorted. "I've asked you at least thrice—"
"Shh," Theo hissed. He jerked upward and turned in his chair toward the door. Draco turned, following his line of sight, and was startled when a figure clad all in black rushed into Potter's office and shut the door. The person turned around and froze, but their head was bent downward inside their hood.
"Typical of the Auror Office to set a Dementor on us without cause." Theo met Draco's eyes in amusement and carried on, "Do you have much experience with the Patronus Charm, Draco? I'm afraid I never quite got the hang of it."
"I'm afraid neither have I, Theodore," Draco replied with a smirk. "But I don't think we're in danger. Potter's too goodfor such an underhanded strategy."
The figure suddenly jerked their head upward, and the hood fell. A bright sparkling light emanated from the person's—Was it a person?—face, and Draco stood up suddenly, twisting toward the door, squinting at a bright light.
"What the—" he began, but then his eyes adjusted and Draco could not believe his eyes. " Granger?"
Up next: Hermione confronts the Slytherins.