"Harry, get your gear, the Aurors called." Harry was in the 'Magical Weather' office (or so the nameplate on the door said. It was actually the Department of Mysteries, Oversight Office), reading some of the recent findings from the DoM research division. He still enjoyed learning about new magics, though he didn't have much time for it anymore. But at least when he was in the office he had a ready source for the latest news on all the innovative new magics on hand (even if the reports were not the most accessible, as they assumed that you had been steeped in the same research as the writer until it was coming out your eyeballs).

"What's the situation?" Harry grabbed his sampling kit.

"Leave that," His boss waved at the kit, "you'll be assisting with Magical Disasters. We have a bloke who somehow made his house carnivorous."

Harry quirked any eyebrow, "I'm not exactly trained for that."

"Nobody else is either. So far the Aurors have managed to contain it to a large farm field".

"The house?"

"Aye," Jacobs held out a portkey without any additional explanation.

"Shit," Harry ran to the Auror's portkey room and activated it.

Harry landed in Birling, or so the Unspeakable in charge told him, but all he saw was generic rolling fields and hedge rows.

And a small Tudor house chasing a pair of Aurors who were fleeing in terror across the rolling fields.

"What do you need me to do?"

"We have a mage circle set up that should freeze it back into shape," the Unspeakable pointed to the glowing pattern burned into the grass between five ward stones, "But we need you to lure the house onto it."

'And they couldn't get an Auror to do this?' "Right." Harry ran towards the house, but the building ignored him, instead digging (?) through the wall that one of the Aurors had conjured to hide behind.

"Hey!" Harry sent a blasting curse at the kitchen window. It bounced off.

"The houses is warded," the Auror called out as he used a blasting hex of his own to deflect the front door before it could bite his head off.

"Of course it is." Harry quickly tried to think of any esoteric spells that he knew of that might be of use, but he was drawing a blank – this was a unique situation.

"Get it to come this way!" The head of the Unspeakable team called out again, using a sonorous charm, in case Harry had forgotten why he was out here in the middle of nowhere with a ravening house.

Harry sighed before scooping up a handful of dirt and transfiguring it into a swarm of termites. He then banished them (gently) towards the house, where they landed on what must, on the inside, be the living room. And nothing happened. Harry stood and watched. 'Come on, work, dammit!' Still nothing. Meanwhile, the Auror was getting desperate as the house broke through part of the wall. He rolled off to one side to avoid getting bitten. Harry rubbed his chin in thought, racking his brain for any new magic he might have read about that would help in this situation.

"A little help here!" Yelled the Auror. Harry held up a hand to show that he had heard him as he continued to ponder what to do.

Suddenly, the house paused and scratched at its living room with a hind paw, like a dog. Then it pivoted and glared at Harry before pouncing towards him.

"Run! This way!" yelled the Unspeakable.

'What do think I'm doing, you useless prick!' Harry ran as fast as he could, diving past the ward trap just in time.

As he rolled back to his feet, the house was just a house. Harry sighed, "Just another day in the office."

After lunch, Harry was back in the Department of Mysteries, getting ready to do his actual job. Which meant filling out a requisition form (in triplicate, but with different color inks each time) to pick up a high end translation charm from the research group. 'I wish we had a character like Q, from James Bond.' Unfortunately for Harry, all of the researchers were serious and prosaic. Sometimes too much so.

*UHD*

The following day, Harry woke up late. After going through his usual exercise regiment, he sent a Patronus to Ginny telling her that he would be out of the country for work for the week and to send a note by floo to Number 4 Privet Drive if she discovered anything. He had installed a dead-drop Floo at the house where he grew up. Nobody could come through (not least because the Dursleys had blocked up the fireplace back when they bought the house), but you could leave things there.

He then took an international portkey back to Italy.

Harry walked down the street, a 'point me' spell leading him towards the address that was on the job offer that he had found in Helen O'Conner's purse. The spell led him into the depths of wizarding Lecce, where the streets were lined with old family compounds. These were buildings that doubled both as family mansions and places of business, with most dating back 400 years or more.

These weren't the classic Italian country villas, instead being built more like the fortified domiciles of the Florentine plutocrats.

The building he found himself in front of was one of those sort – a four story block of a building in a sea of other four story buildings, but with a tower on one corner rising an additional two stories above everybody else.

"Hello?" He called out through his translation spell as he knocked on the door. "May I speak with Michelozzo?"

A house elf dressed in what at first glance appeared to be a toga but was actually a towel popped into being, "I am sorry, sir. There is nobody by that name here. You may have the wrong address."

"What is your name?" Harry asked genially.

"Pauzzo, sir." The elf bobbed his head nervously.

"Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Pauzzo. I am with a job placement agency, and I was informed that an elderly gentleman who was looking for a mediwitch assistant lived here. I may have gotten the name wrong. But if he is interested, I can get him a couple of resumes by the end of business today."

"I an really sorry, sir, but I don't think we have anybody like that here." The elf was clearly not used to being talked to so politely, and was slightly confused as to how to respond. He usually either let people in immediately, or turned them away. Never did they actually talk to him! He did his best to emulate how he had seen his master behave.

"Hm – what is your family business? Even if you don't need a mediwitch, I have plenty of other resume's in my back pocket. I can get you people to fill any vacant position you may have." Harry exuded confidence, and a certainty that he could fix any problems that Pauzzo might have.

"We are an import / export company and have don't need any help – we have plenty of very fine people working here. Why, we even have people coming to work here from all over!"

"Oh, really? Just Italians? Because I can get people from other parts of the world as well."

"Oh, no," Pauzzo replied proudly, "as a matter of fact, we had several gentlemen from the Caribbean here last week, helping out with Potions."

Harry sighed disappointedly, "It sounds like you have a very successful family that you are working for Pauzzo. Thank you taking the time to speak to me." Pauzzo swelled in pride from the compliment, gaining an extra two inches. "Yes, my family is very industrious. And they provide many dirty cauldrons for me to clean!"

Harry waved cheerfully and strode away, apparating moments later to the Italian Aurors office.

*UHD*

An hour later, Harry was back at the same spot, watching from across the street as a team of Aurors raided the building. He was standing next to the Auror in charge, who was directing the operation as his Aurors led a stream of rough looking men – many clearly foreign - out of the building.

"How did you know that the Cosa Magica was running a drug lab here?" The prisoners had all been working on concocting illegal potions.

Harry just leaned in. "I'm good at my job. Very. Good."

The Italian Auror smiles sourly. He didn't like having this Englishman telling him how to do his job. Especially since he had been paid to turn a blind eye to this street and the affluent businesses here. But this had gone over his head to the ICW, and the Italian Ministry had told him that he had to carry out the raid.

"But I don't need any credit," Harry continued, "put me down as an anonymous source. As long as my people back home know I was involved, that's enough"

The Aurors in charge nodded, somewhat mollified. Everybody needed a couple of good collars to their name in order to get promoted. He started considering the best way to spin this bust to his supervisor, to gain credit without risking retribution from the Cosa Magica. He didn't notice as Harry slipped away.

*UHD*

"Do you bring word of Harry Potter?" Lord Voldemort demanded. That was the only acceptable reason for a lowly worm like this to intrude into this parlor, now his ersatz throne room.

"I am sorry, my lord," The nervous looking young man bowed low as he entered the opulently furnished room, with a pair of robed Death Eaters standing to one side, waiting for their lord to express his needs, "but a messenger just arrived - the Cosa Magica warehouse in Lecce was raided by the Aurors."

The figure in front of him wore a robe with the hood pulled up even indoors, so you could only catch glimpses of his face, which was a skeletal Death-like figure. His bony hands didn't help the image. Voldemort looked up from the letter that he was writing, "How is that possible. I thought you had arranged for the Aurors to look the other way." He tried to reign in his frustration – he could not afford to antagonize his allies – but it was difficult. He felt the need to hurt somebody as a way of making his displeasure known. Since his return, it had been hard to maintain the charm and charisma that he used to have in his 'first' life.

The messenger bobbed his head, "We did, but they are simply corrupt, they are not actually loyal to the cause. Somebody must have paid them more to do their job. Or applied pressure."

Voldemort hissed in displeasure. "We need money! Wars are not fought on pocket change!"

The man shrugged, "That is true."

"Crucio!" Voldemort held the spell for several seconds as the man screamed.

"I don't need bootlickers. I want answers, not platitudes!"

"Yes, sir. I will go find some answers for you, sir" He pulled himself back to his feet and staggered out of the room.

Voldemort sighed. He had needed that – he felt better now.

*UHD*

As the Italian Aurors were finishing up with the arrests, Harry slipped inside. There were too many detection spells being cast for him to risk a disillusionment spell, and even his cloak was likely to not be of much help with the number of Aurors physically searching the premises, but he transfigured his robe into an Auror trench coat and blended in. "Did you find the office?" He asked one of the Aurors with a clipboard, - he had the medallion of a senior Auror, and was likely in charge.

"Up the steps, on the second floor," came the reply. She didn't even look up.

Harry strode up and into the office. Surprisingly (or maybe not so surprisingly, given the rumors about corruption in the Italian Auror force), the office was untouched. Harry quickly cast an aversion charm and started flipping through ledgers. He didn't know how long he had before somebody discovered him, but the ironic thing was that the office – the place that the Aurors should want to investigate the most - was the one place in the mansion that an aversion charm might actually work, as none of the Aurors wanted to come in.

One filing cabinet had reams of shipping invoices. He was riffling through those when an address caught his eye – it was in Albania. He slowed down and made a closer inspection – there were multiple deliveries, from different businesses in Albania, all in the past few months.

And one of the shipments had come in under the name of Alexander LeStrange.

Harry took the entire folder for the past month and shrank it, stuffing it into his pocket. He had just closed the cabinet when the office door opened, "Hey, what are you doing here? This is a crime scene!" A sharp eyed Auror realized that he didn't recognize Harry. Another Auror behind him paused on his way past.

"I am a liaison from the British Aurors office," began Harry.

"Liaisons aren't allowed into a crime scene without an escort." The Italian Auror glanced at the half-closed cabinet, "What did you take?" He demanded. The Auror behind him dropped the sack of silverware he had been carrying and reached for his wand.

Harry cast a wandless banisher, knocking the sharp eyed Auror back into the one drawing his wand before rushing past them and down the stairs. He darted past startled Aurors. "Stop him!"

As he reached the front door, somebody had gotten their wand out and cast a stunner, which he parried. He then ducked to the side to let another spell fly past him as he cast a bombarda at the asphalt in front of a pair of Aurors standing guard, knocking them off of their feet. As soon as he reached the other side of the street and he could feel the edge of the wards, he apparated away.

Harry appeared on a beach up to his ankles in water and he immediately apparated again, so fast that any beach goers that saw him would think that the robed figure had just been a trick of their eyes. This time he appeared on a busy street in magical Rome. He dried his shoes with a charm as he power walked some distance before turning into a store and out through an employee entrance, apparating again, now to an alley in muggle Rome.

'Let them trace that!' The beach would delay them as they would have to oblivate anybody who saw them (Because unlike Harry, they wouldn't be able to apparate again immediately, as they would have to trace his apparition).

Harry transfigured his robe into a worn muggle sports coat like Remus used to wear, with patches on the elbows, and strolled out of the alley over to an hotel, whistling 'fifty ways to leave' something or other (he wasn't good with lyrics). 'Never skimp on preparations.'

*UHD*

Harry paced as he considered what his next step was. The business records he had stolen showed a connection between the Lecce smuggling operation that had drugged Helen (and possibly others) and and LeStrange in Albania. But if the Italian Aurors were as corrupt as Harry suspected, there was a good chance that that the Albanians had already been warned and there would be nothing left at that location any more except an empty warehouse & some traps. But there was a connection to LeStrange. Was it just for the loa drug, or was there some deeper meaning to it? And what was the purpose of drugging the muggle-born? 'I need more information' And the only lead he had was Alex. 'Daphne will love that.'

Problem was, he was much better at avoiding him than in seeking him out. 'Wait – Lammas night'. Typically, rich pureblood families didn't bother coming to Ministry functions, but Lammas Night used to be the traditional start of the harvest, back when England was an agrarian society. Nowadays, it was the start of something connected to that, but far more important: The start of the ministry's tax writing season. It was amazing who crawled out from under their rock to petition the Minister to exclude their pet project from the tax bill.

'Maybe I'll even get a chance to arrest the bastard,' Harry smiled.

*UHD*

Harry spent the next two weeks back in England. He took it easy, working a couple of forensic jobs, once to identify who had cast what spell in an insurance dispute, and another time on a robbery. And he visited some of his Hogwarts friends (and not-friends).

"Good morning, Draco will see you in the south siting room," Crabbe bowed stiffly as he showed Harry into the Malfoy's over-ostentatious residence. He was now working as a majordomo for the Malfoys. Though rumor had it he was still Draco's errand boy in his off hours.

"Well, technically, it's almost lunch time," Harry smiled as he followed the silent Crabbe through the maze that was Malfoy Manor. 'It's good that he found a job that matches his skill set'.

"Harry Dursley, sir," Crabbe bowed again and left. Draco was lazing in a recliner, a silver housecoat over his pajamas and a glass of sherry in one hand.

"How is business, Draco?" Harry took a seat opposite the Malfoy heir.

"It's been great ever since I joined the company! We have a new partner is Sweden, who exports high quality furniture, and we have these two guys out of America that make wine. Did you know that they made wine there? It's in someplace called California. Obviously it's not as good as a quality French wine, but they sell it so cheap that we can make a tidy profit."

Harry smiled, "so you're working hard." Actually, Harry expected that the only work that Draco did was at night. 'I wonder if I'll see one of his floozies wandering in? No – Crabbe must show them the door at dawn.'

"Tell me about it. It's non stop! Father insists that I visit all our clients in person. And we have to prepare the mansion for the Ministry ball!"

Harry nodded, 'It doesn't matter how much work you're assigned. If you delegate it all, it doesn't count'. But what he said was, "I imagine that will be expensive."

"Yes, but it will be worth it. The Minister remembers who his friends are." Draco smiled and took another sip. "Would you care to stay for lunch?"

"I would love to."

They continued to chat about nothing of consequence. They weren't really friends, but none of Draco's 'friends' were interested in listening to him talk, so he enjoyed Harry's infrequent visits.

When it was time for Harry to leave, Crabbe again showed him to the door. "Thank you for your visiting" Crabbe bowed again.

"And thank you, Victor," Harry smiled, before pronouncing carefully "The sun turns widdershins".

Crabbe's face went slack as he stood attentively.

Harry smiled, 'That is one Hogwarts project that has paid dividends over the years.'

*UHD*

Harry was spending a rare day in the office, hanging out in the in the Time room as he chatted with one of the researchers there. He was nodding along as he wracked his brain, trying to understand what Cormac was saying when Jacobs came by.

"Stop bothering Cormac. Don't you have your own work to do?"

"I just finished up the report & it should be on your desk. I can't say for sure, as that's the Auror's job, but the spells that damaged the house came from the owner's wand, so it looks like insurance fraud." But nevertheless Harry stood up and followed Jacobs back to the 'Magical Weather' office.

"You're still going lone wolf." Jacobs growled without preamble. "Have you considered seconding Cormac? He's pretty good with a wand and he has clearance already." Harry was an ass, but he was one of his people, and he didn't want him getting killed. "At this rate, you could end up getting somebody killed."

Harry thought back back to Helen, the mediwitch that he had saved in Albania, and how she almost died. 'If I had had back up, I could have gotten some sleep while they watched her. Then I wouldn't have botched the potions...'

"I'll think about it, sir."

Jacobs opened the door into the office, 'so that's a no'. "That's all I can ask."

*UHD*

Come Lammas Night, Harry knocked on Ginny's door. Her place was a hole-in-the-wall studio up in Nottingham. Without magic it would be a three hour commute to London, but with the floo it was just a matter of seconds - though floo powder was getting expensive, as more wizards and witches tried to find someplace to live that wouldn't cost an arm and a leg (you could always apparate, but that wasn't always a wise choice after a long day at work. The risk of splinching went up the more tired you were).

This time, Ginny opened the door more calmly, dressed in an elegant Edwardian ball gown, of the sort that had been in fashion in the muggle world a hundred years ago.

"You look good," Harry paused before adding with a smirk, "Though I liked your look last time too."

"What, half asleep, clutching my wand from across the room?"

"You didn't have a half-asleep vibe. You looked pretty intimidating." Harry paused before adding, "Make sure you have your wand, and that you can transfigure the dress into something that you can move in."

"Harry?" Ginny asked with an arched eyebrow, "I'm going to a ball. Where are you going?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, ruining his attempt at controlling his hair (other than his usual cursed hair, he was also dressed for the ball). "I just have a hunch that something might come up, and I might need help."

Ginny opened her mouth to ask before closing it. Harry was a talented duelist, but he wasn't an Auror. "What, you're expecting somebody to get rowdy with you?"

"Well, when I arrive with such a beautiful woman on my arm, who could blame them?"

Ginny rolled her eyes but couldn't completely stop a small smile escaping. "Come on. We're already fashionably late."

The pair took the floo to the Malfoy estate. For the duration of the party, the Malfoys had lowered the wards over the 'guest wing', so guests could floo in or out without needing to be passed through by a member of the household.

This time they were met by a man that Harry didn't recognize – a temporary hire for the occasion.

By the time they arrived at the main ballroom, it was already half full, with the musicians playing in the background as people chatted and mingled.

Ginny scanned the room. She had bought her dress at a consignment store – it had been one of the few she could afford on her salary - and she was worried that it might be too frumpy. She had never kept up with fashion, and neither had her friends. And she couldn't exactly ask her mother: Besides not wanting to sit through another hour long lecture on marriage, Molly was the poster child for middle-aged frump.

Ginny spotted Lucinda, from accounting. They weren't close, but they would take lunch together sometimes. 'That dress must have cost her a month's pay!' It almost sparkled, and there were sections along the sides of her legs that faded into transparency from certain angles. Ginny wasn't certain that it was tasteful, but it was certainly eye catching, and Lucinda was unhappily single.

"Do you want me to get you something to drink?" Harry asked, when he noticed that Ginny seemed to want to talk to the slightly pretty girl in the garish dress.

"Yes, please."

As Harry made his way to the bar, he listened in to the conversations around him. There was a lot of talk about muggle born, and the various protests that had been taking place recently – though the purebloods called them 'riots'.

He also kept a weather eye out for the LeStranges, but they didn't appear to be here yet, 'I hope Alex doesn't decide to skip it.' He was technically a citizen of England, though his main home was in France. 'What if he's changed his citizenship… no that would have caused a scandal. Daphne would have told me about it.'

Harry snagged a pair of drinks, as usual removing the alcohol from his before heading back towards Ginny. "Harry, this is Lucinda, she's a friend from work," Ginny introduce Harry when he returned.

"Oh, haven't I seen you around the ministry before?" Lucinda leaned in too close, causing Harry to step closer to Ginny.

"Yes, I work in the Department of Mysteries."

"Ooh, an Unspeakable!" She tittered. She clearly had already had a few drinks, and she hadn't spelled hers.

"No, I just do some small things in the department, like forensics." Harry replied. Ginny took a sip of her drink as she watched the interaction. She would have felt protective of Harry if Lucinda wasn't doing such an awful job at flirting. And she liked the fact that it made Harry keep close to her.

As they chatted, Harry finally spotted Alexander LeStrange make his way into the ballroom, Daphne on his arm like an ornament. Both were dressed in the latest Parisian fashions.

As they headed towards Theodore Nott and the cluster of businessmen around him, Daphne's eyes caught Harry's, and a scowl formed on her face before she schooled her features back into their usual placid nothingness.

After Harry and Ginny had extricated themselves from Lucina, Ginny sighed in relief. "I swear, she's usually better than that. She just had too much to drink. Speaking of, I'm going to go 'powder my nose', as my mother says."

The moment Ginny disappeared into the crowd, a hand pressed on Harry's chest, pushing him behind one of the columns at the edge of the room.

Daphne dropped her disillusionment, "What are you doing here?" She demanded.

"It's a Ministry party. And I am an employee."

"You never come to these. In all the years that you have been working at the DoM, I've never seen you at one. So what's changed?" Daphne wasn't certain she could handle the stress of Alex being in the same room as Harry. It wasn't that she was worried of becoming a widow (which was a reasonable concern given Harry's understandable hatred of Alex). They were simply two very separate parts of her life. Alex was part of her her responsible, dutiful side. He represented everything that was expected of her. Everything that she hated. And Harry was the one bright spot in her life, the one thing that made it all tolerable, and she couldn't bear to think of him getting involved in Alex's world. Or trying to, and getting hurt.

Harry shrugged. He considers lying, but he made a point of never lying unless he absolutely had to, especially not to Daphne. "I need to talk to Alex. He's involved with something more than his usual light dug smuggling. It's something political."

"What?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't need to talk to him."

"Don't do anything to him, the scandal would destroy me!" That wasn't the truth. In reality this pureblood life, where she was controlled by outside forces, whether her father or Alex or strict societal expectations, was the only one she knew, and she was terrified of the freedom of the unknown. But lying to herself was something she had been doing since she was very young, and she was very good at it. Daphne gave a furious look at Harry before leaning in to press a passionate kiss on Harry's lips and swirling off in a cloud of skirts.

Harry was just straightening his dress robe when Ginny walked up, "What are you doing, hiding back here?" Going to the bathroom in this dress was a nightmare – there were too many petticoats and layers that she didn't know the names of. And she didn't dare transfigure it, for fear that it wouldn't go come back looking right after she was done. And she really was hoping to return it to the consignment store after tonight.

'I hope she didn't see that,' Harry forced a smile, "Just waiting for you. Hey, isn't that the distaff LeStrange?" Harry pointed to where Alex was chatting with Draco and a pair of his cronies (not Crabbe and Goyle - they didn't qualify as 'cronies' anymore).

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "You should keep your distance from that one. He's bad news." There were all sorts of rumors swirling around the department about Alex LeStrange. None of them quite solid enough to be actionable, but the first time he slipped up, they would put him away in Azkaban. But for now, she had to keep her distance, so as not be accused of hounding him when his case inevitably ended up in court.

"Harry?" Ginny looked over to see her escort heading straight for LeStrange. She had a momentary internal struggle, 'I'm not approaching LeStrange, I am following my idiot date!'

Ginny wasn't the only one watching Harry's approach with horror. Daphne was listening to Pansy natter on about Merlin-knows-what when she noticed. She quickly raised her glass to her face to hide her expression.

But just as Harry got close, Goyle made his way through the crowd and handed Alex a note before leaning in to whisper an explanation. LeStrange looked at the note and nodded. He immediately turned and headed for the guest wing – the part of the mansion with the open floo.

Harry followed, making sure that he's not obvious about it. "Harry, what's going on?" Ginny demanded. As they exited the ballroom.

"Do you trust me?" Harry whispered as he watched Alex walk into one of the private rooms

Ginny's heart begins to bear faster. "Yes."

Harry stepped into the room after Alex, only to see the flames flaring green as the floo was activated. Alex was nowhere to be seen. Harry immediately threw his own powder into the fire, making it turn blue instead and freezing it in place. Or not quite freezing, but the flames now flickered at a glacial pace.

"I am investigating a conspiracy, and I think LeStrange just floo-ed to their headquarters. I can follow him, but I need to go now, before the flames change too much. But." He paused and bit his lip, "I need back up"

"I thought you were a forensic technician…" Ginny's mind quickly added up Harry's skill with a wand, his silent apparition, and his regular mysterious absences, "Right, never mind. You can come up with some convincing lie later. How do we keep from being seen?"

"You'll have to stay very close to me," Harry put one arm around Ginny's waist and held her tight as he draped his invisibility cloak over them both with the other. It just barely covered the two of them, "Now together!" He threw another powder into the fire and they step through.

*UHD*

"You never told my you had an invisibility cloak like this." The two of them were standing side by side in what looked like the lobby of a government building. It was fairly empty at this time of the night, but there were still a handful of people working late, necessitating that they move carefully. Ginny was trying hard to ignore Harry's arm holding her tight against his side.

Harry was puzzled: 'Why is LeStrange in a government building? The note that Crabbe handed him just said 'come quick. We have a problem'.' The fact that he had responded so quickly meant that Alex was involved in something dangerous. And knowing Alex, it was probably equally bad for the rest of England. 'But what is he up to? He can't be smuggling drugs out of an official Ministry building.'

Harry cast a point-me spell using a cuff link that he had taken from Alex's dresser the other day and slowly followed the trace towards LeStrange.

"That crest.. I think we're in the Albanian Ministry. Or at least one of their official buildings," Ginny finally whispered, having gone over the various national crests in her head. She had last seen them in school, but the Albanian one had stuck with her, as it had the stupid little dunce cap on the top, like the Sorting Hat but without a brim.

"Yeah, I know. He must be involved in something more than his usual drug smuggling. Something dangerous."

They finally come to an office with a fancy door in the back corner of the building. Everything else in this part of the building was bland storage rooms full of filing cabinets and unused art. As they approached, the door was still partly open and they could hear Alex say, "You called, my lord?" Harry caught a glimpse of a heavily robed figure just before the door closed.

"What now?"

Harry considered, before replying with a sigh. "We leave – there's nothing we can do here."

Harry looked down as Ginny put her arm around his waist. "It's hard to walk so close together – I feel like I am about to trip with every step." Ginny explained.

And they didn't dare take the cloak off – Ginny wasn't certain if regular disillusionment would suffice: Albania was not a rich country, but they were paranoid, so they may well have invested in top rate wards.

It took them a good half hour to creep their way out of the Ministry building, but other than the need to constantly walk in lockstep, it was fairly easy.

As soon as they were out of sight of the building, Harry whisked the cloak off of the two of them and breathed a sigh of relief. "I guess I didn't need back up. Sorry for ruining your evening."

"Don't be - that was the most exciting date I've had in a long time." Ginny shrugged "I just want to understand what all this means? LeStrange has been on our radar for some time, but this is new. Is he working with the Albanian Ministry?" Ginny asked. It wasn't exactly illegal, but it added to the list of suspicious activities that LeStrange was involved in. "If only we could catch him crossing the line… We could put him behind bars."

"I don't know who he was meeting with, but that wasn't any Albanian government employee that I ever heard of. He spoke perfect English, and Alex referred to him as 'my lord'".

Ginny started, "I hadn't caught that – if he is calling a foreigner 'my lord,' that counts as treason!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You think we could make that stick? Let's head home. I'll buy you some ice cream to make up for tonight."

"Stop feeling guilty, you idiot. Like I said earlier, I trust you. You are one of the good guys, and I'm always willing to help out, even if it turns out to be nothing."

"Thanks, but I'm just a lowly forensic technician."

"Harry, unless you're planing to obliviate me, you can stop pretending. I don't know what exactly you do, and I don't want to know. I'm just saying that if you ever need help again, just call me, ok? I can call in sick to work."

Harry gave a small nod. He wasn't certain what to say at first. He was used to the idea that friends were people you traded favors with. This unilateral offer, without any expectations blew his mind. 'What is that all about?' But Ginny was right - this time it had been nothing, but next time… who knew? "Thanks, I'll take you up on that." Having Ginny along could save somebody's life. Maybe his own. 'Maybe it's a Weasley thing – they are weirdly selfless'. "You still like Cherry Peanut Dribble?"

They sat on a bench under a streetlight in Diagon Alley in their fancy clothes and ate an Fortescue ice cream in silence.

*UHD*

'Well, that was a bust.' Harry was flying above Scotland. After escorting Ginny back to her apartment, he had slipped into a dark mood as he kept reliving the failed mission. He found he did his best thinking when he was on a broom, and he hoped the fresh air would clear his head. He had hoped to panic Alex into leading him to some clues when he had the imperio'ed Crabbe delivere the note, but all that he had accomplished was putting them (whoever 'them' were) on alert that he was onto them.

'I need to actually get recruited into whatever this conspiracy is.' He momentarily considered asking Daphne to invite him the next time Alex had one of his get togethers with some of his backers, but that would be a bad idea on so many levels… 'Daphne didn't mention Ginny at the party. But she must have seen her.' Harry felt like ice water was dumped into his intestines, 'It's going to be bad, the next time I see her.'

Harry sighed. Everything involving his love life was a disaster. "Actually, I don't want to be up here all by myself right now," he announced to nobody.

Harry landed and apparated back to Diagon Ally, shrinking his broom as he walked up to Ron's apartment. He hadn't been here since he had helped him move in, almost a year ago, but somebody would have mentioned if he had moved.

Ron opened the door after Harry had been knocking for several minutes, "Merlin, Harry, do you know what time it is? I was just about to go to bed!"

"Sorry, If it's a bad time, I can come back."

"Nah, come in. I'll grab a couple of beers – the German kind, not the fake ones they serve at Hogwarts."

As Harry plopped down on Ron's ratty couch, the red head handed him the beer, "So, what's eating at you?" Ron wasn't the most observant of guys, but he could tell that Harry wasn't his usual composed, overly self-possessed self.

"I don't know. Actually I do. I love my job, working on my own, but sometimes I feel like nobody notices what I do… scratch that – I know that nobody notices what I do, that's actually a good thing. But I feel like nobody cares." And the fact that he had probably just screwed up big time made it worse. Jacobs would just tell him to write a report about it.

"Mate, you need a girlfriend, is what." Ron wasn't an expert, but he had dated three witches seriously, which was three more than Harry had, as far as he knew. And he knew that job number one of a good girlfriend / boyfriend was to support their partner (though he had only learned that after tanking his first two relationships).

"I.." Harry clamped his jaw shut – he had just been about to tell Ron about Daphne! Merlin, he was really losing it. "Yeah, maybe I should find a nice, uncomplicated girl." And break up with Daphne before the stress (or Daphne) killed him. Harry took a draw on his bottle. It had been ages since he had anything with actual alcohol in it. "Not that I know any."

Ron took a slow sip of his beer. Harry had set him up with Hermione, back in Hogwarts, so he could do the same for him. "Harry, have you spoken to Hermione lately? I haven't really kept in touch with her, but she was pretty crazy about you back in Hogwarts, and I know she's still single." Hermione had always insisted that he never paid any attention to what other people around him were feeling, but he was pretty certain that he had been able to figure at least this much out. Mind you, it was after they had all graduated, but it had sort of clicked into place, and it explained SO much!

Harry scoffed. "Why does everybody keep saying that? We were just friends!" He downed the rest of his beer in one go. "And how do you know she's still single?" Hermione hadn't mentioned staying in touch with Ron – their breakup had been quite some time ago.

"I.." Ron blushed and looked down at the beer bottle in his hands, "Back when we were dating, we got matching magical tattoos with our names on it. It was supposed to show how the other was feeling. It never worked right, but the guy we bought it from reassured us that if were 'intimate' with anybody else, the others person's tattoos would fade away." Ron shrugged and pulled up his sleeve, to show a very faint heart with Hemione's name in it. "And I've dated a couple of witches since then."

"I bet that was embarrassing" Harry gestured to the tattoo.

Ron rolled his eyes "Tell me about it. I was such a stupid kid."

"Tell me about it," Harry parroted back.

"Hey! At least I wasn't as bad a Bill!" Ron's oldest brother had had a disastrous relationship with Fleur, who not only was much younger than him but also from a very different background – her father was a wealthy former member of the French government, and her mother was his trophy wife: She had been way out of his league.

Harry nodded. The twins had dragooned him into going to the Burrow last time Bill was in town, to provide moral support. "Yeah, last I saw him, he was still wearing that silly leather jacket like some 1950's tough guy…" A thought popped into Harry's head. "Hey, thanks for the beer and the sanity check. I feel better."

As Harry waved and headed for the door, Ron called after him, "I'm serious about Hermione – if you need me to, I can probably get her address form somebody."

*UHD*

Harry apparated back home, where he went to the small desk that was pushed off to one side and opened a locked drawer, taking out an envelope containing a half dozen hairs. Harry smiled. Sirius was off living on some Caribbean island where the Blacks owned a long-forgotten estate, and only came back to England for Christmas, but several years ago he had gifted Harry several hairs for use in a polyjuice potion. And with a little modification that Harry had learned from one of his Unspeakable colleagues…. Harry's smile got wider. 'Alex would never believe Harry Dursley would be interested in his schemes, but Sirius Black jr?'

Harry spent the next hour penning a letter of introduction, leaning on everything that he knew of Alexander LeStrange to pique his interest. He went to sleep late and woke up late, still in the clothes he had gone flying in. A quick shower and he was off to #12 Grimmauld Place place. As far as the world knew, it was still owned by Sirius Black. Which it was, except Harry had the keys. Inside it remained a half-rotten dump, which is why Harry was paying astronomical rent for a flat the size of a shoebox.

Once inside, he summoned a post owl with a gesture of his wand and sat down to wait. Here in the center of London it should only take a couple of minutes for it to arrive. 'This place really reeks.' It smelled of damp rot and mildew. Harry was just considering using a bubble-head charm when an owl landed and stuck out its foot. Harry quickly slipped the letter into its holster and sent it off to the LeStrange estate. 'Now, if Alex traces the owl, he will see it came from the Black's home'. As soon as the owl had left, Harry pulled the door shut and left as well. 'Sirius needs to clean that dump up.' Not that Harry was volunteering to help – his cleaning days were behind him, ever since he had moved out of his step-families' home.

'Next stop, Q Division to get a polyjuice potion.' Well, it was actually the DoM research group. Q Division was Harry's private joke. Which he never actually shared with anybody, 'Maybe Ron is right. I need somebody I can talk about work with. But does it have to be a girlfriend? The Weasleys are abnormally trustworthy – maybe I can go for beers with one of them?'

*UHD*

Two weeks later, Sirius Black Jr. apparated to the outer gates of the Malfoy Estate. Harry had learned that with a slight modification, he could add a hair both from himself and some other person, resulting in a polyjuice potion that blended features from the two individuals. Harry did a final inspection of his appearance with a reflection charm – the magic mirror showed what looked like a 20-something year old Sirius Black, except with the signature Potter air. 'That won't do.' Harry dribbled a vial of sleek-easy potion onto his head. 'That's better.' His hair had settled into the typical Black curls, which looked more like an expensive wig than real hair.

With a final satisfied look at the reflection, Harry strode up to the gates, which swung open, allowing him to approach Malfoy manor (and it was a long approach - the Malfoy's had a hundred yards worth of immaculately manicured lawn leading up to the front door). This time Vincent Crabbe wasn't on duty - instead it was a sad looking house elf.

"Please come this ways, Mr. LeStrange says that you are expected."

Harry followed the creature, wondering what had happened to Crabbe. 'Well, whatever it was, he had it coming.' In his last year at Hogwarts, Crabbe had become notorious for hazing the First years, until Harry had put a stop to it. Harry looked around as the elf led him to a small study this time around. 'I'm getting to know Malfoy Manor better than my own home.'

When he entered the room, he didn't recognize everybody there, but those he knew were a who's who of the pureblood elitists. Most of those there were men, with just a handful of hard faced women, such as Alecto Carrow. As soon as he stepped in, an older man he didn't recognize intercepted him. "Hello, I am Corban Yaxley, and who might you be?"

Harry gripped the proffered hand tightly – none of that effete dead fish handshake that Draco and his coterie engaged in. "Sirius Black."

Yaxley started, but didn't let go of Harry's hand. "I would have expected you to be older…"

"You're thinking of my father, Sirius Black Sr."

"And how is your dad?" Yaxley asked. Relaxing incrementally.

"Hiding. His stint in Azkaban has unmanned him." Only three people knew that Pettigrew and Sirius had switched who had been the Secret Keeper for the Potters all those years ago. And Pettigrew and Voldemort were both dead. So as far the world at large was concerned, Sirius Black had been a follower of Voldemort, and would have fit in just fine with this crowd.

"Well, I'm glad that you're made from sterner stuff. Let me introduce you to the others." As Yaxley showed him in, he added, "where did you grow up? I would have heard of a Black scion."

"I was raised by my mother, Lena, and we lived under her last name. We went back to Hungary after my father was arrested. But now," Harry shrugged, "My father isn't using his name, so I see no reason not to reclaim it."

Yaxley nodded, half listening as he approached a cluster of people, waiting for a break in the conversation to introduce 'Sirius Black jr.'

Two hours later, Harry was getting tired from maintaining the deception. He had been taking care to sneak sip from his flask of polyjuice, but he was nevertheless covered in sweat. What he had overheard was not very enlightening - most of the conversations were either one-upmanship over who had the longest lineage or belly aching about the Ministry and their bias against purebloods. Oh, and diatribes against all muggle-born. Harry had chatted with everybody present, including Alex LeStrange and Lucius Malfoy, but he still was no closer to understanding what this gathering was about. 'Maybe it's just social - a support group for super-rich assholes?' That would be disappointing, but at least he would have an 'in' with this group, which could prove useful in the future.

Harry was just mentally cataloging what he could salvage from this evening's 'entertainment' when Lucius tapped a glass with his fork, "May I have your attention please. I know we are all busy people, so I would like to thank you for making the time to come to my humble soiree. Now, I would like to turn the floor over to my dear friend Alexander LeStrange."

'This is more promising,' Harry ran a hand through his hair as he listened.

*UHD*

Daphne stood watching the spectacle from the door leading to the kitchen, curious what it was all about. As Alex's wife, she was expected to help Narcissa with orchestrating the food and beverages for the event, though of course Alex had instructed her that she was to remain unseen, so as not to embarrass him.

He also hadn't bothered to inform her what the gathering was about. As Alex started to speak, she glanced across the group listening to him when her eye caught on a familiar head of unkempt hair. Her heart jumped and ice poured through her intestines. 'What is Harry doing here?' She had done everything she could to keep Harry from falling into Alex's machination. He was the one thing in her life untainted by.. everything else. He was too simple and direct. Daphne had no idea how he had managed to survive 7 years in Slytherin. If Alex got his claws into him, he would stand no chance.

Daphne stood and watched, heart in her mouth. Not that you could tell from looking at her – she looked like the same ice queen as usual. The crowd shifted and she got a better look at the man with the hair. She breathed out in relief – it wasn't Harry! But there was something about him…

*UHD*

"Great things are coming, and soon. We need to be ready to take our rightful place in society when they happen!" Alex finished up.

As the applause died away, Harry made his way over to Alex and shook his hand. "That was marvelous. What can I do to help?" Harry asked, projecting a burning intensity like he had seen the Carrows do.

Alex paused to consider. He did not know this young man, but there was a place in his organization for passionate young men who nobody knew, and nobody would miss. Alex reached into his pocket and handed Harry a galleon. "Here. This is a portkey. It can only be activated next tomorrow at 8pm. Do so, and I will have work for you."

After receiving other well wishes, Alex retreated to the drinks table, where he was surprised to see his wife.

"I don't trust that man," She hissed, nodding towards the disguised Harry.

"Why are you out here? I told you not to come out when business is being discussed." Alex replied with disdain. It wasn't like he had married Daphne for her brains.

Daphne scowled, debating if she should say anything further, but then nodded, acting the role of the properly cowed wife before retreating back to the kitchen.


As always, comments are appreciated.