Harry Potter: Precious (ch 3)
Title: Precious
Author: Reyn
Rating: M
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Warnings: master/slave, EWE, dark elves
Word Count: ~3700
X-Posted: AO3 , FF.net
Summary: Harry knew he was the "Savior of the Wizarding World". He just wasn't aware that title was known across every magical realm in Great Britain. Combine that with Draco Malfoy's renowned expertise in magical beings, and, much to their mutual displeasure, they find themselves teaming up for a risky diplomatic mission deep underground in Dark Elf territory.
To further complicate matters, Malfoy must pose as Harry's slave if they hope to stand even the slightest chance of success and get out of this in one piece.
Chapter 3
Harry’s first knock on the door went unanswered, so he tried again. When silence met that one as well, he turned to look back at Robards’ secretary, who simply put up his hands in dismissal and returned his attention back to the alarm clock that was lying in pieces all over his desk. With a sigh, Harry knocked yet again.
“Head Robards?”
He decided to give Ron’s preferred method of entry a shot, which was simply trying the door handle. It opened with ease, and Harry stepped in, only to immediately duck at the shout of “Stupefy!”
The bolt of red light grazed Harry’s elbow, causing his funny bone to erupt in pain while the rest of his arm went slightly numb.
“Ow! Head Robards?” He spotted a shoe poking out from the side of the large desk and crawled over on his knees, massaging his elbow. He found the Head Auror curled awkwardly into the space underneath. “Head Robards, what are you doing?”
Robards regarded Harry with wide, panicked eyes. “Nothing,” he admitted, remaining as he was for a moment longer before smoothly unfurling himself out from his hiding place. “What are you doing breaking into my office, Potter? That door was locked.”
“Actually, sir, it wasn’t,” Harry corrected, following his boss’ example and standing as well. “I wanted to ask-”
“It wasn’t?” Robards seemed startled by the news. “Where the hell was my secretary?”
“O’ Malley’s at his desk, working on your time management, I think.” Harry went to take a seat and make himself comfortable. It looked like it was going to take a few minutes to get around to the reason of his visit.
“He didn’t try to stop you? Or tell you to go away?”
Harry’s eyebrows went up. “Was he supposed to?”
“What good is that useless-?” Robards pulled his chair forward and sat down behind his desk. “Tell him he’s fired when you leave.”
“Yes, sir.” His funny bone had stopped screaming at him, so Harry began to focus on opening and closing his fist, hoping to bring some feeling back into his arm. “Sir, I have a question for you.”
Shoving aside one of the many mountainous piles of paperwork that overtook his desk, Robards continued to elbow the thing even after he could make clear eye contact, stopping only after it fell to the floor and scattered files and parchment everywhere.
“What?” he asked with a look of immense satisfaction on his face.
“This may come off as a fairly stupid question, but it occurred to me that it was never discussed in training or any time after. Where exactly do we get our research?”
The question had Robards frowning. “What? Explain.”
Harry shifted in his seat. “Well, it’s just that, we have the archives for past cases, and all the new stuff comes in with the basic research already attached. I was just wondering if the Ministry maybe has a - a library or something for when more digging is needed.”
Robards stared hard at Harry for a long moment before leaning back, his chair giving a long, drawn out squeak in protest. “This is about that elf deployment holiday you and Weasley agreed to.”
“I’d hardly call it a holiday, sir, b-”
Robards’ skeptical grunt was loud enough to convince Harry to stop while he was ahead.
“Potter, do you want to know why I agreed to release you both to the Magical Creature Department?” Robards continued on before Harry could answer the rhetorical question. “Because unless a new dark witch or wizard comes into power within the next week or so, your next rotation puts you on security detail for the Ministry. And quite frankly, the two of you tend to cause about half of the problems you’re supposed to be preventing when we trap you in the building for work.”
Harry hardly thought the accusation was fair, regardless of how true it was. If they were stationed in the atrium, it tended to cause a massive backup in traffic around the Floo networks as visitors and workers alike made it a habit to stop and stare - and sometimes go as far as to ask for pictures or autographs. Then there was that incident with the witch who took Ron on as a personal bodyguard and tried to have her coworker arrested in a bit of office drama. And there was that other witch who had cast the heating charms up so high in an attempt to entice Harry into stripping when he was on duty up on level three. And Harry could hardly be blamed for the influx of mail charmed to follow him around whenever Valentine’s Day approached!
“So really, I’d rather put up with the rest of the department moaning about you two getting a vacation disguised as an assignment rather than dealing with interdepartmental complaints and requests.”
Harry frowned. “Sir, it’s really not - what exactly did they tell you when they requested us for the mission?”
“That the high elves were asking for you two by name to help with a territory dispute.” Robards’ eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me they lied and you’re not dealing with elves over a territory dispute?”
Harry opened his mouth and hesitated. Was it a territory dispute? They hadn’t been very clear on that point, being far too busy focusing on how dangerous the drow were.
But…maybe everyone was making the dark elves out to be a bigger deal than they really were? He wouldn’t be surprised, seeing as how when people were passionate about something, they tended to make those issues larger than life. And considering how blasé Robards’ seemed to be about it…
“No, sir. It is just that. They just - it didn’t really sound much like a vacation when they gave the details is all.”
Robards chuckled and leaned forward in his chair. “You greenhorns. Always expecting every mission to be wrought with danger.” He shook his head. “Usually, if we need information that crosses over into another department, we just send them a missive and they’ll send their research our way. If you’re looking for more knowledge on elf life, just ask them to put you in touch with whoever their resident expert is.”
Harry felt his hope sink down to his toes. “Right. That would be how our system works.” Despite the unwanted answer, he wasn’t quite ready to give up. “But surely the Ministry has a library I’ve never heard about? At least someplace where it keeps all of its bureaucratically-related information available to everyone?”
“No.” Robards’ amusement was gone. “You want the information from a book, you go to a bookstore, Potter. You want cutting edge research to ensure things go smooth on your mission, you owl whichever expert the Magical Creature Department puts you in touch with.”
“Great,” Harry muttered, pushing himself to his feet. “Thank you for your help, Head Robards.”
“What? That’s it?” Robards cast a forlorn glance at his mounds of paperwork. “You only had the one question?”
“Unfortunately,” Harry sighed out. He motioned to the mess on the floor. “I’ll let you get back to your work.”
He ignored the muttered cursing as he turned to leave, making it a point to shut the door behind him.
“Head Robards said you’re fired,” he remembered to tell O’Malley as he passed the desk, ignoring his much louder curses as well.
Harry wasn’t too worried about it. O’Malley was typically fired at least twice a month, only to be immediately rehired when Robards stepped out to find no one else could be bothered to deliver him coffee or ensure he ate his meals on time.
O’Malley also made some of the best eggy pasties Harry ever had the pleasure of tasting. They were well known in helping to keep the auror department going bright and early after pulling an all-nighter.
Harry was certainly going to miss those. He doubted the dark elves had anything even close to eggy pasties.
“So what’d the H.A. say?” Ron asked as soon as Harry stopped short upon entering their joint office.
“Erm…” Rather than answer, Harry’s eyes darted around the room, unsure of how to feel about all their furniture being gone and everything else, including Ron, left floating midair. “Where’s…?”
“Been brushing up on my Disillusionment Charm.” Ron looked around proudly. “I figure if I can cast it this strong on immovable objects, I’ll be able to make living things perfectly invisible in no time!”
Harry took a cautious step into the room. And then another. “That’s fantastic. How am I supposed to find my chair?”
“With senses that have been honed after an entire lifetime of defeating evil.” Ron joked while reaching for his wand. “What did Robards have to say?”
“To contact Malfoy,” Harry sighed, heading towards the chair that was slowly reappearing. “Well, to contact whichever expert Magical Creatures points me in the direction of,” he amended at his partner’s wide-eyed look of surprise.
Rapidly putting two and two together, Ron’s face scrunched in sympathy. “Sucks, mate. Think if you tried writing to him anonymously he’d cough up the info you need?”
Harry shook his head. “Not in time for Tuesday’s meeting.” He was starting to regret waiting a day to get started on his research. It was now Thursday, and since the Ministry shut down cold on the weekends, it left him with a day and a half to try to use whatever official channels he could to find his information.
Problem was he hadn’t expected his official channels to be so limited in options.
“You could always try asking Hermione.” Ron’s face lit up in a dreamy smile. “She knows everything. Or you could do as she does and pick up a book. Maybe read it as opposed to throwing it at glass objects in a fit of rage.”
“That was one ti-”
“Twice.”
“Fine. Tw-”
“Three times, actually, now that I think about it.” Ron responded to Harry’s glare with a cheeky grin. “And that’s only counting the times I know of.”
“The problem is,” Harry spoke through gritted teeth, “There isn’t a library here at the Ministry for me to do any research.”
Ron shrugged. “A bookstore then. And if they don’t have anything, you could always have them special order it.”
“Yeah, but I doubt it would get here in time.” Regardless, Harry moved to stand back up, ready to follow the suggestion. “Do me a favor and owl Hermione? I have a feeling I’m still going to need her help even if I get lucky enough to find anything useful.”
Rather than affirm the request, Ron winced and apologized as Harry slammed his hip into the edge of his still-invisible desk.
+
Flourish and Blotts turned out to be a bust. The only information they had to offer on dark elves were a few chapters of lore located in the myths and legends section. Harry had skimmed through them, only to be reminded of the supposed brutality and danger he would be walking into in a few weeks’ time.
He tried a few other bookstores he knew of, including one in Knockturn Alley the MLE was constantly busting for selling cursed products. None of them came through, and the one on Knockturn Alley even had the gall to throw him out when he admitted he wasn’t exactly there on official business.
Harry got his revenge by turning right back around and launching a full-scale investigation simply because he could, something his reputation allowed for him get away with every now and then. This led to the breakthrough of a rather tough case the aurors had been struggling with for months, as well as the permanent shutdown of said Knockturn Alley bookstore.
The Ministry was quite proud, despite the newspaper headlines reading ‘BOY WHO LIVED TWICE SHUTS DOWN BOOKSTORE FOR NOT CARRYING PREFERRED TITLE’.
Hermione found the article to be entertaining enough to quote bits and pieces over brunch on Saturday, which ended up being the first spot of free time Harry had since he had let his ire take over on Thursday afternoon.
“Hermione, why must you insist on torturing me this way?”
“Because when Ron finally shuffled through the door at two this morning, his first and only words to me in thirty-six hours were a mumbled, ‘Just read the paper in a few hours. It’ll be in there, yeah?’ before passing out face first in our bed.” Hermione frowned at The Daily Prophet. “Although the title is extremely misleading and had me worried you had caused some sort of incident that the Ministry was stuck trying to smooth over.”
Harry’s fork clattered loudly against his plate as he abruptly set it down.
“It was just a silly initial thought!” Hermione exclaimed defensively at the look of offended disbelief she was being subjected to. “Honestly, if I had known you were going to be this grumpy, I would have sent you straight back to your flat for another six hours of sleep the second you showed up at the door.”
Harry shook his head. “Can’t afford to waste the day,” he said while shoveling another forkful of eggs into his mouth.
He missed eggs. O’Malley hadn’t been around to offer up his eggy pasties to those who had been working on the case as they hit the eighteen hour mark. Rookie Schofield had cried, which led to Robbards making a rather inspiring speech about how they were some of the best wizards and witches out there, and were better than homemade eggy pasties.
The speech ended with, “Damn it, I’ll go owl him now.” It was very motivational.
“Why not?”
Harry snapped back to the present and found he had no clue what they were supposed to be talking about. “What?”
“Why can’t you afford to waste a day?” Hermione clarified, far too used to the spaced out state of mind her two best friends tended to drift in after pulling all-nighters at work.
“Oh!” Harry pushed aside his meal so that he could rest his elbows on the table. “I need your help.”
Hermione leaned back warily. “With what?” She had long since learned not to trust those words after the boys had worked anything more than a double shift.
“I need you to tell me everything you know about dark elves. And please tell me you do know something because they don’t seem to exist in books.”
Eyes darting to the newspaper headline beside her, Hermione bit her lip in thought even as she shook her head. “They’re generally treated as a myth, but I’m assuming that’s not the case?”
Harry nodded. “As personally confirmed by a couple of high elves earlier this week.”
“How does this even fall under your jurisdiction?”
“Special assignment.” Harry pulled off his glasses to rub at his still-tired eyes. “Ron’s coming, too.”
“When-?”
“Dunno yet. Not until after Tuesday, at least.”
Hermione sighed and cradled her tea in her hands. “Well, from what little I’ve read on them, they seem to be the black sheep of the elf family. You aren’t expected to deal with them in person, are you?”
Harry let out a laugh. “I’ve been guaranteed by the field expert that we’ll be doing things in the most diplomatic means possible, if that will reassure you any.”
“Harry, if the stories about them are true-”
“Then I’m doomed if I offend them in any way or form.” Harry dropped his hands to the table. “I’m aware about that bit, thanks.”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you much else,” Hermione apologized. “In all my research, they’ve only ever been mentioned in passing, and usually it’s just about some poor sap’s distant relative who made the mistake of dealing with them in the first place.”
Harry frowned, and then silently pulled his plate back before him to continue eating.
“I mean, if I could remember which of my books mentions them, maybe we’ll be able to piece together a common trait in what makes them tick to ensure that you keep your nose and other…various appendages.”
“That’s good. That’s a great idea!” Harry managed around a mouthful of food. “You could find the stories, and I could make a list, and together we can come up with enough information for an essay that’s at least a good twelve inches, yeah?”
Hermione shook her head. “Sorry to break your sudden optimism, but your essay would probably be closer to six inches, and that’s a number we would only manage to achieve if we comb through my entire library.”
Harry’s jaw dropped. “But my deadline is Tuesday!”
“They’re extremely rare, elusive creatures! The fact that you’re expected to even meet one is enough to make headlining news should any reporters find out!” Hermione exclaimed. “And for once the article would be more focused on the other party, rather than just you. Have you tried asking around? The field expert, surely, would be more knowledgeable than me.”
“That’s an option we’re trying to avoid,” Harry said stubbornly.
“Oookay, what about the high elves?”
“Gone.”
“A house elf? Kreacher? He might-”
“Tried that.”
“And?” Hermione prompted when Harry failed to elaborate.
Harry frowned down at his food before meeting her eyes. “And he screamed, threw the pot he had been holding in the air so that he could clutch at his chest, and fell to the ground in shock. When I tried to see if I had accidentally killed him, he started cursing me for even daring to mention the drow in his presence and informed me that not even the noble Blacks would be so cruel.”
Shortly after, Kreacher had served Harry a dinner of blackened, unrecognizable charcoal clumps, and shuffled off, muttering about suffering from trauma at the words of such a cruel master. Harry had decided it best not to ask again.
“That’s assuming the Blacks knew anything abou-” Hermione stopped herself mid-eye roll. “Wait. That’s a possibility. What about asking someone from one of the older wizarding families? They might have an out of print book buried in their family library, or know a bit more about the folklore surrounding dark elves passed down through bedtime stories at least.”
Harry’s mind immediately went to the Malfoy family line and those he remembered as Death Eaters from years before, and frowned. “Herm, we don’t like those families.”
Immediately catching onto his train of thought, Hermione scoffed. “Not all ancient lines are dark!”
Harry stubbornly remained skeptical. “No, the rest are just barmy.”
“I don’t know, you turned out pretty okay.” Hermione hid her cheeky grin behind her mug.
The returning smile was only half-hearted. “Yeah, but I don’t exactly have a family library at my disposal.”
Hermione blew out an exasperated sigh and began tapping her ring and middle fingers against the porcelain of her cup.
Eyes drawn by the movement, Harry stared morosely at the engagement ring Hermione never took off. Ron was convinced she was going to lose it in her sleep or have it washed down the drain, or even snatched off her finger by a greedy goblin in some sort of drive-by mugging. The complaints and teasing were at complete odds with the look of fierce pride and happiness that shone through Ron’s eyes every time he noticed the ring.
It was a simple piece; three small diamonds embedded into an etched silver band. Ron had been a bit agitated when he made the decision to buy it, complaining how because his family was so large, major heirlooms (such as really nice engagement rings) never got a chance to make it down to him, regardless of how far back his family…went.
Oh.
“I should go see Ginny.”
Surprise slackened Hermione’s face almost comically. “What? Why?”
Harry shrugged, taking one last bite of toast before carrying his plate over to the sink. “Ron can’t really give me answers about his family tree seeing as how he’s sleeping. Plus I haven’t seen her in a while.”
Hermione stood up, moving to block his exit. “No. Harry, you always do this, and it’s a bad idea.”
Harry stared cluelessly at his friend. “Always do what? Go to Ginny for information on cases?” He scoffed and shook his head. “If anything, we always argue about which quidditch players would make our ultimate dream team.”
“No! You-” Hermione clenched her jaw, looking both hopeless and frustrated. “I can’t believe how completely blind you are. You know she’s dating Silas.”
“Still?” Harry’s face went a bit blank. “Well, good for her. She deserves something serious.”
“Harry…”
“Look, it’ll be fine. I’m just going over to get facts on the Weasleys. It’ll be completely professional.” He pulled his robe off the chair it was draped over. “I doubt I’ll find much, though. If Ron had a family library, he surely would have mentioned it to you beforehand in an attempt to win you over.”
A reluctant grin slowly stretched across Hermione’s features. “Like he would ever need to resort to such a desperate means to woo me.”
Harry laughed as he slipped on his robe. “Clearly he needs to step up his game. I’ll see you, yeah?”
Hermione nodded, fixing Harry with a fierce stare. “I’m owling you tonight. If I don’t have a reply from you first thing tomorrow morning…”
“Herm, come on. We’re all adults now!” Harry squeezed by her and made his way to the front door. “Just because there have been some…slips in the past, doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen while Ginny’s committed to Silas the Curse Breaker.”
Hermione’s frown was reprimanding, but rather than argue, she just rolled her eyes and gave Harry a shove out the door.
“Dinner on Tuesday,” she announced. “Something tells me you’ll need it.”
“How do you know me so well?” Harry teased.
“I’m serious about that owl!”
Deciding now was a good time as ever to stop with the banter, Harry turned and headed toward the building’s stairs. Honestly, just because his job had prevented him from finding anyone to settle down with, didn’t mean Ginny’s emotions were on the line every time they met up. She moved on, he…mostly moved on, they were both in a good place.
Really.
TBC...
Author: Reyn
Rating: M
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Warnings: master/slave, EWE, dark elves
Word Count: ~3700
X-Posted: AO3 , FF.net
Summary: Harry knew he was the "Savior of the Wizarding World". He just wasn't aware that title was known across every magical realm in Great Britain. Combine that with Draco Malfoy's renowned expertise in magical beings, and, much to their mutual displeasure, they find themselves teaming up for a risky diplomatic mission deep underground in Dark Elf territory.
To further complicate matters, Malfoy must pose as Harry's slave if they hope to stand even the slightest chance of success and get out of this in one piece.
Chapter 3
Harry’s first knock on the door went unanswered, so he tried again. When silence met that one as well, he turned to look back at Robards’ secretary, who simply put up his hands in dismissal and returned his attention back to the alarm clock that was lying in pieces all over his desk. With a sigh, Harry knocked yet again.
“Head Robards?”
He decided to give Ron’s preferred method of entry a shot, which was simply trying the door handle. It opened with ease, and Harry stepped in, only to immediately duck at the shout of “Stupefy!”
The bolt of red light grazed Harry’s elbow, causing his funny bone to erupt in pain while the rest of his arm went slightly numb.
“Ow! Head Robards?” He spotted a shoe poking out from the side of the large desk and crawled over on his knees, massaging his elbow. He found the Head Auror curled awkwardly into the space underneath. “Head Robards, what are you doing?”
Robards regarded Harry with wide, panicked eyes. “Nothing,” he admitted, remaining as he was for a moment longer before smoothly unfurling himself out from his hiding place. “What are you doing breaking into my office, Potter? That door was locked.”
“Actually, sir, it wasn’t,” Harry corrected, following his boss’ example and standing as well. “I wanted to ask-”
“It wasn’t?” Robards seemed startled by the news. “Where the hell was my secretary?”
“O’ Malley’s at his desk, working on your time management, I think.” Harry went to take a seat and make himself comfortable. It looked like it was going to take a few minutes to get around to the reason of his visit.
“He didn’t try to stop you? Or tell you to go away?”
Harry’s eyebrows went up. “Was he supposed to?”
“What good is that useless-?” Robards pulled his chair forward and sat down behind his desk. “Tell him he’s fired when you leave.”
“Yes, sir.” His funny bone had stopped screaming at him, so Harry began to focus on opening and closing his fist, hoping to bring some feeling back into his arm. “Sir, I have a question for you.”
Shoving aside one of the many mountainous piles of paperwork that overtook his desk, Robards continued to elbow the thing even after he could make clear eye contact, stopping only after it fell to the floor and scattered files and parchment everywhere.
“What?” he asked with a look of immense satisfaction on his face.
“This may come off as a fairly stupid question, but it occurred to me that it was never discussed in training or any time after. Where exactly do we get our research?”
The question had Robards frowning. “What? Explain.”
Harry shifted in his seat. “Well, it’s just that, we have the archives for past cases, and all the new stuff comes in with the basic research already attached. I was just wondering if the Ministry maybe has a - a library or something for when more digging is needed.”
Robards stared hard at Harry for a long moment before leaning back, his chair giving a long, drawn out squeak in protest. “This is about that elf deployment holiday you and Weasley agreed to.”
“I’d hardly call it a holiday, sir, b-”
Robards’ skeptical grunt was loud enough to convince Harry to stop while he was ahead.
“Potter, do you want to know why I agreed to release you both to the Magical Creature Department?” Robards continued on before Harry could answer the rhetorical question. “Because unless a new dark witch or wizard comes into power within the next week or so, your next rotation puts you on security detail for the Ministry. And quite frankly, the two of you tend to cause about half of the problems you’re supposed to be preventing when we trap you in the building for work.”
Harry hardly thought the accusation was fair, regardless of how true it was. If they were stationed in the atrium, it tended to cause a massive backup in traffic around the Floo networks as visitors and workers alike made it a habit to stop and stare - and sometimes go as far as to ask for pictures or autographs. Then there was that incident with the witch who took Ron on as a personal bodyguard and tried to have her coworker arrested in a bit of office drama. And there was that other witch who had cast the heating charms up so high in an attempt to entice Harry into stripping when he was on duty up on level three. And Harry could hardly be blamed for the influx of mail charmed to follow him around whenever Valentine’s Day approached!
“So really, I’d rather put up with the rest of the department moaning about you two getting a vacation disguised as an assignment rather than dealing with interdepartmental complaints and requests.”
Harry frowned. “Sir, it’s really not - what exactly did they tell you when they requested us for the mission?”
“That the high elves were asking for you two by name to help with a territory dispute.” Robards’ eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me they lied and you’re not dealing with elves over a territory dispute?”
Harry opened his mouth and hesitated. Was it a territory dispute? They hadn’t been very clear on that point, being far too busy focusing on how dangerous the drow were.
But…maybe everyone was making the dark elves out to be a bigger deal than they really were? He wouldn’t be surprised, seeing as how when people were passionate about something, they tended to make those issues larger than life. And considering how blasé Robards’ seemed to be about it…
“No, sir. It is just that. They just - it didn’t really sound much like a vacation when they gave the details is all.”
Robards chuckled and leaned forward in his chair. “You greenhorns. Always expecting every mission to be wrought with danger.” He shook his head. “Usually, if we need information that crosses over into another department, we just send them a missive and they’ll send their research our way. If you’re looking for more knowledge on elf life, just ask them to put you in touch with whoever their resident expert is.”
Harry felt his hope sink down to his toes. “Right. That would be how our system works.” Despite the unwanted answer, he wasn’t quite ready to give up. “But surely the Ministry has a library I’ve never heard about? At least someplace where it keeps all of its bureaucratically-related information available to everyone?”
“No.” Robards’ amusement was gone. “You want the information from a book, you go to a bookstore, Potter. You want cutting edge research to ensure things go smooth on your mission, you owl whichever expert the Magical Creature Department puts you in touch with.”
“Great,” Harry muttered, pushing himself to his feet. “Thank you for your help, Head Robards.”
“What? That’s it?” Robards cast a forlorn glance at his mounds of paperwork. “You only had the one question?”
“Unfortunately,” Harry sighed out. He motioned to the mess on the floor. “I’ll let you get back to your work.”
He ignored the muttered cursing as he turned to leave, making it a point to shut the door behind him.
“Head Robards said you’re fired,” he remembered to tell O’Malley as he passed the desk, ignoring his much louder curses as well.
Harry wasn’t too worried about it. O’Malley was typically fired at least twice a month, only to be immediately rehired when Robards stepped out to find no one else could be bothered to deliver him coffee or ensure he ate his meals on time.
O’Malley also made some of the best eggy pasties Harry ever had the pleasure of tasting. They were well known in helping to keep the auror department going bright and early after pulling an all-nighter.
Harry was certainly going to miss those. He doubted the dark elves had anything even close to eggy pasties.
“So what’d the H.A. say?” Ron asked as soon as Harry stopped short upon entering their joint office.
“Erm…” Rather than answer, Harry’s eyes darted around the room, unsure of how to feel about all their furniture being gone and everything else, including Ron, left floating midair. “Where’s…?”
“Been brushing up on my Disillusionment Charm.” Ron looked around proudly. “I figure if I can cast it this strong on immovable objects, I’ll be able to make living things perfectly invisible in no time!”
Harry took a cautious step into the room. And then another. “That’s fantastic. How am I supposed to find my chair?”
“With senses that have been honed after an entire lifetime of defeating evil.” Ron joked while reaching for his wand. “What did Robards have to say?”
“To contact Malfoy,” Harry sighed, heading towards the chair that was slowly reappearing. “Well, to contact whichever expert Magical Creatures points me in the direction of,” he amended at his partner’s wide-eyed look of surprise.
Rapidly putting two and two together, Ron’s face scrunched in sympathy. “Sucks, mate. Think if you tried writing to him anonymously he’d cough up the info you need?”
Harry shook his head. “Not in time for Tuesday’s meeting.” He was starting to regret waiting a day to get started on his research. It was now Thursday, and since the Ministry shut down cold on the weekends, it left him with a day and a half to try to use whatever official channels he could to find his information.
Problem was he hadn’t expected his official channels to be so limited in options.
“You could always try asking Hermione.” Ron’s face lit up in a dreamy smile. “She knows everything. Or you could do as she does and pick up a book. Maybe read it as opposed to throwing it at glass objects in a fit of rage.”
“That was one ti-”
“Twice.”
“Fine. Tw-”
“Three times, actually, now that I think about it.” Ron responded to Harry’s glare with a cheeky grin. “And that’s only counting the times I know of.”
“The problem is,” Harry spoke through gritted teeth, “There isn’t a library here at the Ministry for me to do any research.”
Ron shrugged. “A bookstore then. And if they don’t have anything, you could always have them special order it.”
“Yeah, but I doubt it would get here in time.” Regardless, Harry moved to stand back up, ready to follow the suggestion. “Do me a favor and owl Hermione? I have a feeling I’m still going to need her help even if I get lucky enough to find anything useful.”
Rather than affirm the request, Ron winced and apologized as Harry slammed his hip into the edge of his still-invisible desk.
+
Flourish and Blotts turned out to be a bust. The only information they had to offer on dark elves were a few chapters of lore located in the myths and legends section. Harry had skimmed through them, only to be reminded of the supposed brutality and danger he would be walking into in a few weeks’ time.
He tried a few other bookstores he knew of, including one in Knockturn Alley the MLE was constantly busting for selling cursed products. None of them came through, and the one on Knockturn Alley even had the gall to throw him out when he admitted he wasn’t exactly there on official business.
Harry got his revenge by turning right back around and launching a full-scale investigation simply because he could, something his reputation allowed for him get away with every now and then. This led to the breakthrough of a rather tough case the aurors had been struggling with for months, as well as the permanent shutdown of said Knockturn Alley bookstore.
The Ministry was quite proud, despite the newspaper headlines reading ‘BOY WHO LIVED TWICE SHUTS DOWN BOOKSTORE FOR NOT CARRYING PREFERRED TITLE’.
Hermione found the article to be entertaining enough to quote bits and pieces over brunch on Saturday, which ended up being the first spot of free time Harry had since he had let his ire take over on Thursday afternoon.
“Hermione, why must you insist on torturing me this way?”
“Because when Ron finally shuffled through the door at two this morning, his first and only words to me in thirty-six hours were a mumbled, ‘Just read the paper in a few hours. It’ll be in there, yeah?’ before passing out face first in our bed.” Hermione frowned at The Daily Prophet. “Although the title is extremely misleading and had me worried you had caused some sort of incident that the Ministry was stuck trying to smooth over.”
Harry’s fork clattered loudly against his plate as he abruptly set it down.
“It was just a silly initial thought!” Hermione exclaimed defensively at the look of offended disbelief she was being subjected to. “Honestly, if I had known you were going to be this grumpy, I would have sent you straight back to your flat for another six hours of sleep the second you showed up at the door.”
Harry shook his head. “Can’t afford to waste the day,” he said while shoveling another forkful of eggs into his mouth.
He missed eggs. O’Malley hadn’t been around to offer up his eggy pasties to those who had been working on the case as they hit the eighteen hour mark. Rookie Schofield had cried, which led to Robbards making a rather inspiring speech about how they were some of the best wizards and witches out there, and were better than homemade eggy pasties.
The speech ended with, “Damn it, I’ll go owl him now.” It was very motivational.
“Why not?”
Harry snapped back to the present and found he had no clue what they were supposed to be talking about. “What?”
“Why can’t you afford to waste a day?” Hermione clarified, far too used to the spaced out state of mind her two best friends tended to drift in after pulling all-nighters at work.
“Oh!” Harry pushed aside his meal so that he could rest his elbows on the table. “I need your help.”
Hermione leaned back warily. “With what?” She had long since learned not to trust those words after the boys had worked anything more than a double shift.
“I need you to tell me everything you know about dark elves. And please tell me you do know something because they don’t seem to exist in books.”
Eyes darting to the newspaper headline beside her, Hermione bit her lip in thought even as she shook her head. “They’re generally treated as a myth, but I’m assuming that’s not the case?”
Harry nodded. “As personally confirmed by a couple of high elves earlier this week.”
“How does this even fall under your jurisdiction?”
“Special assignment.” Harry pulled off his glasses to rub at his still-tired eyes. “Ron’s coming, too.”
“When-?”
“Dunno yet. Not until after Tuesday, at least.”
Hermione sighed and cradled her tea in her hands. “Well, from what little I’ve read on them, they seem to be the black sheep of the elf family. You aren’t expected to deal with them in person, are you?”
Harry let out a laugh. “I’ve been guaranteed by the field expert that we’ll be doing things in the most diplomatic means possible, if that will reassure you any.”
“Harry, if the stories about them are true-”
“Then I’m doomed if I offend them in any way or form.” Harry dropped his hands to the table. “I’m aware about that bit, thanks.”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you much else,” Hermione apologized. “In all my research, they’ve only ever been mentioned in passing, and usually it’s just about some poor sap’s distant relative who made the mistake of dealing with them in the first place.”
Harry frowned, and then silently pulled his plate back before him to continue eating.
“I mean, if I could remember which of my books mentions them, maybe we’ll be able to piece together a common trait in what makes them tick to ensure that you keep your nose and other…various appendages.”
“That’s good. That’s a great idea!” Harry managed around a mouthful of food. “You could find the stories, and I could make a list, and together we can come up with enough information for an essay that’s at least a good twelve inches, yeah?”
Hermione shook her head. “Sorry to break your sudden optimism, but your essay would probably be closer to six inches, and that’s a number we would only manage to achieve if we comb through my entire library.”
Harry’s jaw dropped. “But my deadline is Tuesday!”
“They’re extremely rare, elusive creatures! The fact that you’re expected to even meet one is enough to make headlining news should any reporters find out!” Hermione exclaimed. “And for once the article would be more focused on the other party, rather than just you. Have you tried asking around? The field expert, surely, would be more knowledgeable than me.”
“That’s an option we’re trying to avoid,” Harry said stubbornly.
“Oookay, what about the high elves?”
“Gone.”
“A house elf? Kreacher? He might-”
“Tried that.”
“And?” Hermione prompted when Harry failed to elaborate.
Harry frowned down at his food before meeting her eyes. “And he screamed, threw the pot he had been holding in the air so that he could clutch at his chest, and fell to the ground in shock. When I tried to see if I had accidentally killed him, he started cursing me for even daring to mention the drow in his presence and informed me that not even the noble Blacks would be so cruel.”
Shortly after, Kreacher had served Harry a dinner of blackened, unrecognizable charcoal clumps, and shuffled off, muttering about suffering from trauma at the words of such a cruel master. Harry had decided it best not to ask again.
“That’s assuming the Blacks knew anything abou-” Hermione stopped herself mid-eye roll. “Wait. That’s a possibility. What about asking someone from one of the older wizarding families? They might have an out of print book buried in their family library, or know a bit more about the folklore surrounding dark elves passed down through bedtime stories at least.”
Harry’s mind immediately went to the Malfoy family line and those he remembered as Death Eaters from years before, and frowned. “Herm, we don’t like those families.”
Immediately catching onto his train of thought, Hermione scoffed. “Not all ancient lines are dark!”
Harry stubbornly remained skeptical. “No, the rest are just barmy.”
“I don’t know, you turned out pretty okay.” Hermione hid her cheeky grin behind her mug.
The returning smile was only half-hearted. “Yeah, but I don’t exactly have a family library at my disposal.”
Hermione blew out an exasperated sigh and began tapping her ring and middle fingers against the porcelain of her cup.
Eyes drawn by the movement, Harry stared morosely at the engagement ring Hermione never took off. Ron was convinced she was going to lose it in her sleep or have it washed down the drain, or even snatched off her finger by a greedy goblin in some sort of drive-by mugging. The complaints and teasing were at complete odds with the look of fierce pride and happiness that shone through Ron’s eyes every time he noticed the ring.
It was a simple piece; three small diamonds embedded into an etched silver band. Ron had been a bit agitated when he made the decision to buy it, complaining how because his family was so large, major heirlooms (such as really nice engagement rings) never got a chance to make it down to him, regardless of how far back his family…went.
Oh.
“I should go see Ginny.”
Surprise slackened Hermione’s face almost comically. “What? Why?”
Harry shrugged, taking one last bite of toast before carrying his plate over to the sink. “Ron can’t really give me answers about his family tree seeing as how he’s sleeping. Plus I haven’t seen her in a while.”
Hermione stood up, moving to block his exit. “No. Harry, you always do this, and it’s a bad idea.”
Harry stared cluelessly at his friend. “Always do what? Go to Ginny for information on cases?” He scoffed and shook his head. “If anything, we always argue about which quidditch players would make our ultimate dream team.”
“No! You-” Hermione clenched her jaw, looking both hopeless and frustrated. “I can’t believe how completely blind you are. You know she’s dating Silas.”
“Still?” Harry’s face went a bit blank. “Well, good for her. She deserves something serious.”
“Harry…”
“Look, it’ll be fine. I’m just going over to get facts on the Weasleys. It’ll be completely professional.” He pulled his robe off the chair it was draped over. “I doubt I’ll find much, though. If Ron had a family library, he surely would have mentioned it to you beforehand in an attempt to win you over.”
A reluctant grin slowly stretched across Hermione’s features. “Like he would ever need to resort to such a desperate means to woo me.”
Harry laughed as he slipped on his robe. “Clearly he needs to step up his game. I’ll see you, yeah?”
Hermione nodded, fixing Harry with a fierce stare. “I’m owling you tonight. If I don’t have a reply from you first thing tomorrow morning…”
“Herm, come on. We’re all adults now!” Harry squeezed by her and made his way to the front door. “Just because there have been some…slips in the past, doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen while Ginny’s committed to Silas the Curse Breaker.”
Hermione’s frown was reprimanding, but rather than argue, she just rolled her eyes and gave Harry a shove out the door.
“Dinner on Tuesday,” she announced. “Something tells me you’ll need it.”
“How do you know me so well?” Harry teased.
“I’m serious about that owl!”
Deciding now was a good time as ever to stop with the banter, Harry turned and headed toward the building’s stairs. Honestly, just because his job had prevented him from finding anyone to settle down with, didn’t mean Ginny’s emotions were on the line every time they met up. She moved on, he…mostly moved on, they were both in a good place.
Really.
TBC...