An Auror in Dog's Clothing
The big reveal has been posted at hd_inspired. Thanks so much to tracy_loo_who and sexts for my gift, It's the Wrong Time and I Got No Excuse.
Here is my contribution to the fest:
Title: A Sheep An Auror in Wolf's Dog's Clothing
Author: sesheta_66
Betas: alaana_fair and softly_sweetly
Pairing: Harry Potter / Draco Malfoy
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: ~ 11,000 words
DH epilogue compliant?: EWE.
Summary: At a dead-end in an illegal potions case, when the Aurors finally have a lead, the only way they can act on it is by using a rather unconventional undercover technique. When Auror Potter discovers someone else undercover, he has a choice to make. Trust the person and team up or go it alone. Originally written as a gift for ravenpan for the hd_inspired Animagus fest.
Disclaimer: Characters and setting all belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No infringement is intended, and no money is being earned.
"Kingsley wants to meet with us in his office," Ron called through Harry's door almost the instant he'd arrived at work.
"What for?" he asked, irritated at being called away from his case. It had been frustrating him for a good few months now, ever since all the leads went cold. Wizards were manufacturing illegal potions, and they had managed to infiltrate London's Muggle drug network as well. Just when they thought they'd had the perfect lead, they discovered the lengths to which the organization would go to prevent anyone from talking. A modified form of the Fidelius Charm was used, so that no one could disclose anything about the operation; if they did, they died on the spot.
The one arrest they'd managed to make ended up putting their entire investigation behind by months, because now the operation had tightened up security, and hadn't let the one lead return. He'd been cut off entirely, and so had the Aurors.
Running his hand through his hair and huffing in annoyance, Harry got up and followed Ron into Kingsley's office.
"We have a lead in the potions case," Kingsley announced as soon as Harry and Ron took their seats. "Someone slipped up and contacted our would-be informant."
"I thought they'd shut down all communication," Harry said.
"Well, they weren't exactly communicating," Kingsley replied. "They sent a hit wizard to finish him off."
"Shit," Ron mumbled beside Harry.
"Indeed. We had been monitoring his flat, so we were signalled when someone arrived. But before we even knew what was happening, he was dead. The only consolation is that the Tracking Charm was activated," Kingsley continued. "Thanks to the recent modifications, this version is virtually undetectable."
"And the hit wizard led you ...?" Harry asked.
"Long story short, he led us to someone who led us to someone who led us to a sheep farm in the Scottish Highlands."
"So, what?" Ron asked. "Are we investigating sub-par wool exports now?"
Harry sniggered before Kingsley cleared his throat. "No, Weasley," he said derisively, "we believe the farm is a cover for the potions lab."
"Oh." Ron was suitably abashed.
"Right. Potter, you're still the lead Auror of record on this, but I'm hoping to use your skills in another area for a few weeks." He gave Harry a hopeful look before continuing. "I'm pulling in a few other teams to help with the investigative end of it. Weasley, if Harry agrees, you'll take over while he is otherwise indisposed, and continue to oversee the team running the information as we receive it."
"I know I haven't screwed up, so there must be some other reason you're pulling me off the case," Harry said.
"You don't have to do this, Harry, but --"
"Whatever it is, just let me know." Harry trusted Kingsley, and he respected him, both as an Auror and as a boss.
"I don't think we'll be able to get close enough to get the evidence we need," Kingsley began. "The wards on this place rival any I've seen. By the time we would be able to get through them, the potions would most assuredly be destroyed. And after that arrest, well ...." He left the rest unspoken.
"They're on alert, and they'll be watching for something," Ron finished.
"Exactly."
"So what are you proposing?" Harry asked.
"You're an Animagus." It wasn't a question.
"Yes. Unregistered, as you know."
Ron huffed at Harry's side. It had been a sore spot with him during Auror training. They were all expected to attempt the transformations, but Harry had been the only one in their class to succeed. Well, as far as he knew anyway. No one else had seen Harry succeed, except Ron, as they had worked in teams of two. Kingsley had never shared the information with anyone else. It was in Harry's file, but no one had access to that information except Kingsley and the Minister himself. And Harry doubted even the Minister knew. Plausible deniability.
Harry's stomach twisted as he put the pieces together. "Exactly what are you suggesting?" Harry asked, needing to hear the words.
"Your Animagus form is a dog, correct?"
While pleased that he wasn't something like a ferret, Harry's rather shaggy form had been a source of amusement for Ron, though Harry suspected the taunting was motivated by his jealousy.
"Yes. It's ... a Catalan."
"Which is perfect for the task. It seems that there are a few of that breed used on the farm, so you could blend in," Kingsley explained.
Ron snorted. Harry glared at him.
"You don't have to do this," Kingsley repeated. But really, what choice did they have? It wasn't as though they had any other means of breaking this illegal potions ring.
"It's okay. After all, what's the point in being an Animagus if I don't use the skill?"
Kingsley grinned, looking relieved.
Ron went with Kingsley to the conference room to meet with the rest of the team, while Harry prepared to go undercover. He would wait up near the farm, in an area where they regularly took the sheep to graze. When the farm hands appeared with the flock, Harry would take the place of one of the dogs, while the Ministry kept the farm dog safe. The Auror that would be accompanying Harry and switching the dogs would have no idea that it was actually Harry. Only Kingsley and Ron knew what was happening.
He spent the day reviewing the file the intelligence group had compiled on the farm since discovering its location. It turned out that it was a legitimate, well-established sheep farm that had been operating for generations. From what they could uncover, the current owners had come into some money, and had taken a year-long trip around the world, leaving the day-to-day running of the business to the farm hands, overseen by some foreigner. This stranger was brought in because he supposedly specialized in this sort of thing. The owners hadn't been seen or heard from since, if you didn't count the occasional post card that was received from one place or another.
The Ministry suspected that the owners had been placed under the Imperius Curse and forced to announce their "trip" and the person who would be in charge during their absence. After that, who knew? They suspected that the owners were dead, and that the postcards were merely a cover to prevent any investigation. They had no family, so it was only the farm hands and friends that needed to be fooled.
The farm was still operating as a legitimate business, but the Ministry believed that there was a laboratory on site, and that it was the manufacturing and distribution centre for the potions. Its location was secluded enough not to risk anyone accidentally stumbling upon it, and large enough to enable its operation without raising the concerns of the workers.
The magical protection on the place belied the true nature of things. The perimeter had mild detection wards, which Harry could pass in his Animagus form. The sheep and dogs apparently crossed the barriers frequently when grazing. It was the main building that had the most protection. The magic emanating from the structure was strong, but the investigation hadn't uncovered the source, magnitude or even the specific location. If Harry could get in, he could, quite literally, sniff around for more information.
~*~*~
Harry spent the next day handing over the other active files on his desk, with status reports and briefings to the various Senior Aurors who were taking over his caseload, and the evening was spent at the local pub with Ron.
"You sure about this, mate?" Ron had asked over a pint.
"Not much choice."
"Kingsley gave you a choice. You don't have to do it."
"What would you do, Ron? You know that we'll never get the evidence we need without someone on the inside, and after that debacle, we're not likely to ever get anyone near the place. It's our only chance."
"I know, but why does it always have to be you?"
Harry had to laugh. "Really, Ron, would you rather spend the next few weeks herding sheep as a dog?"
"Well … no, not really."
"Not really?"
"Right. Definitely not. But seriously, why is it always you?"
"In this case, I just happen to be the one who fits the bill, don't I?"
"Just like you happened to fly by McGonagall's office in first year, and you happened to be a Parselmouth in second year, and you happened to be Sirius's godson in third year, and you happened to get chosen by the Goblet of Fire in fourth year, and you happened to get attacked by Dementors in fifth year, and you happened to figure out what was going on with Malfoy in sixth, and --"
"Are you quite done?" Harry snapped. "First year, yeah that was a fluke that it was McGonagall's office. But everything else was because of Voldemort. It was because of him that I knew Parseltongue, because of him Sirius was in prison, because of him my name got drawn, because the Ministry refused to acknowledge his return that Umbridge sent the Dementors after me. And sixth year? I didn't happen to discover anything. I suspected Malfoy and followed him - relentlessly, I might add - against your and Hermione's wishes."
"Sorry, mate," Ron said. "I'm just frustrated with this case, it's been a long few weeks, and I'm tired. I know it's not your fault this stuff happens to you."
"Well, sixth year was."
"Yeah. Git."
"What?" Harry glared at Ron.
"Malfoy, I mean. Stupid git."
"Well, he did have good reason."
"Not that again, Harry. He nearly took you to Voldemort."
"Ron, we've been through this. You didn't see what I did. You don't know what it was like for him, and I only got a glimpse of it. I can only imagine how horrible it was. Besides, is there anything you wouldn't do to save your family?"
"I wouldn't kill someone."
"You wouldn't?"
"Well … I'd like to think I wouldn’t."
"Right, and Malfoy never killed anyone either. So let it go." Harry's tone left no room for further debate.
"No problem. At least I haven't had to look at his face for ages. How long has it been?"
"Years. What do you figure he's been up to?" Harry asked, feeling suddenly curious and pleased to be discussing something besides the case. He would be immersed in it soon enough.
"Who cares?" Ron replied. "Just so long as he stays away from me."
Harry frowned at his friend. He wasn't sure why, but he really wouldn't mind finding out what his former school rival had been doing since the war. It was with Malfoy still on his mind that he drifted off to sleep that night.
~*~*~
Infiltrating the farm was relatively easy. He had transformed at the Ministry, and was brought Side-Along by an Auror to the agreed-upon spot about a mile away from the edge of the wards. They waited in a small strip of trees until the flock was brought to graze, and a soft bark from Harry drew one of the dogs away from his task. The switch was made, Harry was in place and he was all set.
Naturally, the rest of the mission was not as easy. The dogs were expected to keep watch on the flock at all times, so any attempt at veering away was met with annoyance from the farm hands. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, Harry relented and acted the part. Not the most patient wizard in the world, by the time they'd returned to the farm at dusk, Harry was desperate to start nosing around. But it was not to be.
The dogs were not left to their own devices at night, as Harry had hoped, but rather were fed, watered, and housed in a barn. Surprisingly, the food hadn't bothered him as he'd expected. He realised that it wasn't just his appearance that had changed. This gave him a small sense of comfort as he remembered Sirius surviving on rats when he'd first escaped from Azkaban.
By the time they were shuffled into the barn, darkness had fallen. Once settled, Harry was shocked to hear voices. No, that wasn't right. There weren't any voices as such, more like thoughts floating around with growling as a backdrop. Was he actually hearing the other dogs?
He had a flashback to a time when Sirius had said that Crookshanks could tell that he wasn't really a dog. Why would it be so impossible to imagine that the dogs would communicate with each other on some level?
Harry curled up on the floor of the barn away from the rest of them, so he could listen. It was rather surreal actually. The words were jumbled, and they all seemed to be talking, or thinking at once. Well, really, what had he been expecting? Some Dr. Dolittle style talking with the animals? That they'd just direct him to the evidence and he'd be away?
He didn't want to try slipping away in the dark this first night, before he'd had a chance to figure out the layout of the place. He hadn't seen much besides the grazing area and the barn before night had fallen, and it wouldn’t do to get caught roaming around before he'd even hatched a plan.
By the time he drifted off, his head was spinning and had begun to ache from all the voices. He sure hoped he'd be out of this place soon.
~*~*~
The second day dawned brightly, and Harry was able to roam the farm a little bit before they went back out to pasture with the sheep. It was much like the first day, and Harry was exhausted by the time they made it to the barn at night. But he had seen enough of the place that he thought he could slip out and take a look at the main house, maybe even figure a way in.
He had brought his Invisibility Cloak with him, but didn't want to risk wandering around in his human form until he managed to figure out where security was at its height. Who knew what wards were placed on the main house? He suspected his cloak wouldn’t do much good against them.
He managed to slip out of the barn undetected, and made it around to the front of the house before, "Grrrrr." Harry had come face-to-face with a growling, haughty-looking guard dog.
"Shhh!" Harry said. "Be quiet."
"What?" he heard the other dog reply. What the hell? That wasn’t anything like the buzzing incoherent gibberish he'd heard from the other dogs in the barn.
"Er … shhh?" Harry ventured. The other dog looked shocked, lifting its head and looking down his nose at Harry.
"Mutt."
"I'm not a mutt," Harry said, quite insulted. He may be shaggy and playful, but he was not a mutt.
The other dog's eyes narrowed, as if he were considering Harry. Then he growled again and stood his ground. Harry moved forward, and the growl became more menacing.
"Come on, let me by," Harry tried, not sure if the dog understood him or not. He suspected that perhaps it was a little like Parseltongue. He spoke English in his mind, but the other language just … happened.
"No," he thought he heard beneath a deeper growl.
"Fine, then," Harry huffed and made his way back to the barn.
As he sat listening to the noise the last few awake dogs were making, he wondered how on earth he could understand that guard dog when it wasn't even the same breed. It was with that puzzling thought, and the desperate need for a plan to get past said dog, that he finally fell asleep.
~*~*~
The next night, Harry came across the white guard dog again. And again the dog growled at him, and stood his ground, preventing Harry from passing. Again it was as though they were having a regular conversation in English.
"How come I can understand you, but not the other dogs?" Harry asked.
"I am a purebred Canaan," the guard dog replied. "Obviously I have greater communication skills than the average canine." Something about the way he'd spoken - or thought - seemed eerily familiar. That and the way he stiffened his back and stuck his nose up even higher in the air.
"The more interesting question," the guard dog continued, "is why can I understand you?"
Harry couldn't answer that. He didn't have a clue.
"And you're still not getting in."
~*~*~
Once again, Harry returned to the barn.
The next night was the same, with Harry approaching, the guard dog stopping him, a few exchanged words, and Harry returning to the barn.
The following night, Harry waited until later before venturing out. He stayed back when he saw the dog in place at the door. He watched for about an hour before giving it up as a bad job.
The night after that, Harry waited until nearly half the night was through, and he was barely able to stay awake, before venturing out. As he approached the house, all he could think of was telling Ron that he was dog tired - he groaned inwardly at his own sad attempt at humour, though he expected Ron would have howled with laughter. Harry winced, knowing his mind was messing with him.
Finally, he thought as he approached the house and saw no white dog standing guard. He slowly stuck his snout through the doggy door, half expecting it to be scratched, but there was no sign of him. He climbed through and into the house. Right. Now what?
He was inside the kitchen, which looked fairly standard for a country home, with a large wooden table, wooden cupboards and a pantry. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and Harry couldn’t sense any wards in the immediate area. He nudged open the swinging door gently and made his way out into the hallway.
To the right was a large sitting room with comfortably worn furniture and a big fireplace. On the left were a series of closed doors. Harry snooped around the sitting room, but saw nothing incriminating, and moved on. Unfortunately, all the other areas of that level were blocked by doors, so Harry had to transform.
He returned to human form, pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, and opened the first door. The room was dark, so he closed the door and turned on the light, not wanting to use magic in case it triggered an alarm. It was a small guest room, by the looks of things. There was a sofa bed, a small table and a chest of drawers that held linens. Otherwise, there was nothing of note. He turned off the light and closed the door behind him, careful not to make to much noise.
As he turned round to move on to the next room, he walked directly into …
"Malfoy?" Shit! The word was out of his mouth before he could stop himself, so shocked to see Malfoy standing in front of him.
Malfoy yanked the Invisibility Cloak off him. "Potter? What are you doing here?"
"I'm an Auror. What do you think I'm doing here? I'm on a case."
"But how did you get in here?"
"I'd rather not say."
Malfoy studied him. "No," he said to no one in particular. He looked into Harry's eyes, then narrowed his own. "That dog. That black dog that's been trying to get in here! That's you!"
"How would you know --" Harry said before it was too late. Damn. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut around Malfoy? "Wait a minute! You're that white guard dog?" Well, that explained the haughtiness anyway.
"That's hardly the point."
"So what are you doing here?" Harry asked, deciding to ponder the strange coincidence later.
"None of your business."
"I'm on a case, Malfoy. Do I need to arrest you?"
"Oh, please. As if you have any evidence to arrest me."
"Well, I could just take you in for questioning."
Malfoy's eyes went wide. "No!"
"Give me a reason not to then."
"I'm here to get Pansy out."
"Parkinson? I didn't know she was part of this."
"She isn't." Malfoy looked down at his feet, then back up at Harry. "She isn't," he repeated. Harry raised his eyebrows in question. "They kidnapped her."
"Why would they kidnap Pansy and why didn't I know about this?"
"Strange as it may seem, Potter, not everyone comes to you to be rescued."
Harry rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant," he said through clenched teeth. Prat. "If it had been reported to the Aurors, I would know about it."
"Well, then I suppose you've answered your own question. Strange that. I would've thought it would take you much longer to figure things out."
Ignoring the jibe, Harry asked, "Why didn't her parents report it?"
"Because her parents don't trust the Aurors, and they wanted to do things their way."
"But I still don’t understand why they would have taken Pansy, unless --"
"Don't strain yourself, Potter. It's really none of your business. All you need to know is that she's being held here against her will."
"Your point?"
Draco heaved a heavy sigh. "My point, Potter, is that if you charge in trying to save the world, Pansy could be killed. I haven't gone to all this trouble just to have my friend die."
"I wouldn't … I won't do anything to cause harm to Pansy. Trust me." Harry meant it. He'd seen enough people die already.
Draco snorted, but otherwise didn't argue the point.
"So … care to tell me about all this work you've done?"
"Not really."
"Two heads are better than one, Malfoy."
Draco looked pointedly at Harry's hair. "But yours is so … messy."
"Ha ha, very funny. No really, you're killing me!"
"Ah … wishful thinking."
"Prat."
"Idiot."
"Right, so now that we've become reacquainted, spill the beans. What have you learned?" Malfoy looked as though he were about to object. "And before you get your fur standing on end, I give you my word that whatever Pansy's involvement is, I will do my very best to leave her out of this. You, too, if you wish." Malfoy looked sceptical. "Malfoy, I'm a trained investigator, and much as you will want to deny it, I'm a very good one."
"Oh, alright."
They went into the kitchen where they wouldn't be heard and they could hear anyone approaching. They spent the rest of the night discussing the comings and goings of the staff. There were, as the Ministry suspected, two sets. One set of Muggles that ran the sheep herding operation, and one set of wizards who manufactured and distributed the potions.
Most of the work was carried out when the Muggles were off with the sheep, so they didn't raise suspicions. They could have cast the Imperius Curse or Obliviated them as required, but it was cleaner this way, Malfoy had heard one of them say.
"They are very good at what they do, Potter. They have managed to keep these Muggles out of the loop for months, with all this going on just under their noses. And they've done it with very little magic, too."
"How is that possible?"
"It's rather simple, actually. The man running the operation, Stuart Matheson, was placed in charge by the owners."
"Right," Harry said sceptically.
"Precisely. No doubt an Imperius was cast at the time, but it was believable. They had some lottery windfall and went on a trip or something. Anyway, he's in charge, and from day one he had one rule above all others."
"Which was?"
"That the house was his home. He would not bring work into his home, and he expected the same of the staff. No one is permitted entry, and if they think it's strange, they haven't said. I presume they have simply got used to it," Draco explained.
"So no one ever ventures in here?"
"Never. He said that he would not presume to wander into someone else's home uninvited, and the fact that his home happened to be on site was no reason for them to think otherwise. He would not enter their private living quarters, and he expected that they would not enter his."
"Makes sense."
"Yes, it does. Anyone that tries it gets fired. No questions, no explanations, no excuses, no second chances. Knocking at the door had better mean there is a dire emergency. Otherwise it is considered an imposition."
"And they'd get fired," Harry added.
"Right."
"Ingenious, really."
"Cunning, yes. I imagine he'd have been in Slytherin in his day, had he attended Hogwarts."
Draco went on to explain everything he knew, and all the areas of the house he'd eliminated. He had yet to find Pansy, but he still held out hope that he would. With all the protection surrounding this place, he didn't think there'd be a safer location to keep someone. Harry didn't voice the thought that she might already be dead. He suspected Malfoy had already had that thought.
"So, now that you've got all this information, I presume you expect me to back off," Draco said, staring straight into Harry's eyes. Harry saw a look of sheer determination in the stormy grey before him. "I won't, you know."
Harry chose not to answer. Instead, he got up and made his way towards the door. Turning around, he asked, "Well, are you coming?"
"What?"
"I asked if you --"
"I heard you, but ... you mean you're not going to pull rank and tell me to get lost?"
"Under normal circumstances, I might have. But we both know that you know this place better than anyone, and if it were my friend in there, I wouldn't let anyone stop me going in."
"I wouldn't let you."
"I know. But I won't try to stop you anyway. Let's go."
Draco showed Harry around the house briefly before he had to get back to his guard post, since he'd already been gone for hours. He explained that most of the rooms were relatively innocuous, the usual bedrooms, sitting rooms and such. There was one warded room that was the owner's office, which Draco had been in a couple of times along with him, as a dog.
"It didn't look like much," he explained to Harry, "but it wouldn’t surprise me if distribution records and other incriminating evidence were inside."
"It would make sense to keep that sort of thing away from the potions, just in case there was an accident. Is there a computer in there?"
"Mm hmm. And a safe."
"A safe?"
"Like I said, he's smart. He's probably warded it with something nasty. I can't be sure, since I couldn't hear him as he removed whatever spell was on it before opening it. And," Draco continued with a smirk, "he manually entered the combination."
"No magic?"
"Not for the combination. It wouldn't surprise me if he's combined that with another spell so that no one without the combination can get it without either a nasty shock or destroying the contents."
"Shit." He could be there forever at this rate. Draco raised his eyebrows and grinned widely at Harry. "You have the combination?"
"But of course," he said. "I may be here to rescue Pansy, and frankly I don't give a shit about bringing down their operation, but I'm not a Slytherin for nothing." Harry gave him a questioning look. "I observe everything, Potter. One never knows when information will prove useful. And really, what kind of a Slytherin would I be if I didn’t take the opportunity handed me so willingly?"
Harry grinned back at Malfoy. "I'm impressed," he said. And he meant it. If Malfoy's look meant anything, he was as stunned to hear that as Harry was to have said it.
The upper level consisted of bedrooms, bathrooms and linen closets. There were no additional wards on any of the rooms, and as far as Malfoy could tell, there was nothing to be found there.
"Which bedroom is his?" Draco pointed to the end one. "I'll want to check that, just to be sure. You never know what secrets he might be hiding in there."
"My, Potter, I didn't take you for a voyeur," Malfoy sneered. Harry noted that, for once, it was without malice.
Much to his mortification, Harry's cheeks flushed. "Not that kind of secret!"
"Ah, too bad," Malfoy offered. "I've been here for weeks now and I could use a good show." Harry merely gaped at him. "Close your mouth, Potter, or I might think you're making me an offer."
Harry went a brighter shade of red and sputtered something incoherent. "Really, Potter, you make it too easy." Harry wondered if that were true in general, or if it was just Malfoy that affected him this way.
"Shut up."
"That's quite a come back, Harry," he sniggered. "I suppose it's an improvement over the punch in the face you might have dished out in school."
"Could we get back to the task at hand?" Harry asked, trying unsuccessfully to return his face to its natural shade. At Malfoy's amused look, he added, "Don't even think about saying --"
"Wouldn't dream of it," Malfoy chuckled.
~*~*~
The next day passed painfully slowly, as Harry was itching to return to see Malfoy … no, to find some evidence. Malfoy was merely a means to an end. By the time dusk fell, Harry was convinced he could spend the rest of his life sheep-free and be quite content indeed. Those pesky blighters did love to wander off. Bloody things.
That night when he approached the house, Malfoy was still in his Animagus form. Harry took some time to appreciate the look of the animal. Of course Malfoy would be the haughtiest looking dog Harry'd ever seen. The way he looked down his nose at … well, at anyone or anything, dripped of condescension. But it was more than that. He was … regal. Just like the man himself. And, amusingly enough, Harry realised that Draco's Animagus form was rather reflective of his personality too, as were those of his father, Sirius and Peter Pettigrew.
"Are you going to stand there underneath that cloak staring at me all night, Potter?"
Harry jumped. "What the?"
Draco transformed into his human form again and touched his nose. "Sense of smell, Potter, remember? Dogs have keen ones. You'd think you'd remember that since you've spent the last week as one."
"Oh … right." Harry was flustered and more than a bit embarrassed at being caught. Not that he hadn't watched Malfoy before. Hell, he'd spent his sixth year doing almost nothing but watch him. But this was different. This time he had no agenda. He was just … curious? Surprised? Interested? That last thought hit him like a ton of bricks. No, he couldn't be interested in Malfoy. It was curiosity, that was all.
Had he given the idea of Malfoy being an Animagus much thought - which of course he hadn't, because he most definitely didn't spend time thinking about Malfoy of all people - he'd have probably expected Malfoy's Animagus form to be a ferret. Barty Crouch junior was to blame for that. And Malfoy's teasing must have been to blame for Harry's wayward thoughts.
Bringing himself back to the present, Harry said, "I guess I was just processing the fact that you're an Animagus, and a dog at that."
As though reading Harry's thoughts, Malfoy retorted, "What did you expect, a ferret?"
"Er …" Harry said.
"Because a ferret is what you think I am, is that it, Potter?" Harry realised that the reference still stung. "I am hardly a little thief."
"Little thief?"
"Yes, Potter, that's what ferret means."
"No, I didn't mean … I hadn't really … I … oh, hell, I'm sorry."
"What?"
"I said I'm sorry. The only reason I would have ever thought that was that it's the only animal I've ever seen you change into. And … well … the coat was white and you're fair, and … never mind. I didn't mean anything by it."
"You do realize that Animagus forms reflect the personality of the humans, don't you?"
"I hadn't given the matter much thought before today, actually. But that's exactly what I was thinking when I was looking at you just now."
"Really?" Malfoy asked. Oh, that tone was not good. "And what were you thinking about my personality?"
"Nothing. Let's just drop it, all right?"
"Why, Potter? Afraid you might have something nice to say about me for a change? Come on. You've already apologised to me today, and that's got to be a first. What harm could a compliment do?"
"I don't hear you offering up any compliments."
"Fine, your Animagus form is playful, shaggy and carefree. It looks after its own and those weaker than it. And it has your eyes."
"Is shaggy a compliment?"
"Well, no, although looking at your hair now, it might be an improvement, so …"
"My Animagus form has my eyes?"
"Yes. That deep, piercing green."
"I didn't know."
"Well, now you do. So … what were you thinking when you were staring at me?"
"Honestly, I wasn't just thinking about you. I was thinking about how my dad, my godfather and Peter Pettigrew all had Animagus forms that matched them. My dad was a leader of sorts, and liked to show off to the ladies, my godfather was rough and gruff and foolhardy, and Pettigrew … well, he was a rat if ever I've met one."
"Ahem." Malfoy gave him a get back to the point look.
"Oh, sorry."
"That's twice you've apologized to me now, Potter."
"Whatever."
"So … out with it."
"Well, I suppose the fact that the dog is white matches your colouring."
"Be careful; you'll make me blush with such high praise."
Harry scowled at him. "And the dog is … haughty."
"Hey!"
"Well, you said I was scruffy."
"Point."
"But when I thought about it, the haughtiness is actually more … regal. You know … well groomed, high brow --"
"In other words, pompous."
"No!" Harry was quick to correct. "I might have said that before, you know, when we were in school. But now I don't mean it as an insult at all. It's like you know the right thing to do in any situation, and you carry yourself with ease and grace, and you are never out-classed."
Malfoy stared at him, open-mouthed.
Harry looked at Malfoy's mouth and smirked. "Is that an invitation?" he teased, throwing Malfoy's line back at him.
"Why, Potter? Do you want it to be?" Malfoy leered at him. Well, that was an unexpected response.
"Um."
Draco laughed. "Maybe later. Right now we have my friend to rescue and a case to break, right?"
"Right." Harry wasn't entirely sure what his response meant, but he was happy to agree and return to safer topics of conversation.
They entered the house, only this time they went towards the lower level. Malfoy pointed out the corridor leading to the cellar and Harry could feel the thrum of magic emanating from below. He made to move forward, but Malfoy stopped him with an outstretched arm.
"Surveillance cameras," he whispered, pointing up to the ceiling. Sure enough, there were two cameras monitoring the corridor.
Harry smiled. "Well then, come under here," Harry said as he pulled out the Invisibility Cloak."
"I thought we agreed that we were going to solve this problem first," Malfoy said with a grin, as he climbed under the cloak, sidling up beside Harry.
"Very funny," Harry countered.
"Just imagine the fun you could have … anywhere you want …" Harry didn't look at Malfoy, thankful for the cover of the cloak and the darkness they were under. He was sure his face was flaming red once more. Then again, the heat from it alone might give him away.
"Malfoy? The case?"
"Right. Carry on, then."
There were five doors in total down the corridor; they led to one broom cupboard, one clothes closet, one mud room, and one study. The last door, which Malfoy said led to the lower level, was heavily warded. Harry had never mastered the art of detecting spell work like Dumbledore had - really, who had? - so that left him with a dilemma. Use his wand and risk detection, or wait. He pulled out his wand.
"Are you crazy?" Malfoy asked.
"I believe you've suggested that in the past."
"And I believe you gave me your word that you wouldn't risk Pansy's life."
"True," Harry agreed. "I'm not actually planning to use it; I've only taken it out in case I need it."
Malfoy snorted. "I bet you say that all the time."
Harry rolled his eyes and, realising Malfoy couldn't see, gave him a nudge. "Prat."
"A regal prat."
"I am definitely going to regret telling you that, aren't I?"
Malfoy sniggered. "Definitely."
The sound of footsteps came from behind the door in front of them. "Shit!" Harry said. "Quick. In here." He opened the clothes closet - after all, the broom cupboard would be soooo cliché - and they slipped inside, closing the door behind them.
"Well, this is cosy," Malfoy said.
"Shut it!" Harry retorted.
"I would have thought you'd prefer --"
"Shh!" Harry said as he clamped his hand over Malfoy's mouth. "He'll hear you."
They listened as the door opened then closed again. "You be good now," they heard him say. A whimper sounded in the background, and Harry felt Malfoy stiffen. "Obfirmo Claustrum" Footsteps followed and faded away into the distance.
Harry stood there, processing what they'd heard. Surely that was Pansy in the cellar. And the spell …
"Malfoy!" Harry said as he pulled his hand away. "You licked me!"
"Well, would you prefer I bite you?" Malfoy asked. "That could be arranged you know." Harry huffed. "Your hand was covering my mouth. I wanted to speak."
"Right. Sorry about that."
"Who are you?"
"What?"
"You've apologised to me three times now."
"I didn't realise you were keeping count."
"It's just so … strange."
"Fine. I'll never do it again."
"Whatever. Anyway, I think that's Pansy down there."
"I agree. And now we know the spell that he's used."
"All we need is the counter-charm."
"Right. But I still want to get into that office. And that safe."
"But Pansy …"
Harry put his hand on Malfoy's shoulder to reassure him. "She's been here this long. I know it's hard --"
"You have no idea!"
"No, you're right. But I do know what it's like to be held captive." Malfoy glared at him. Well, not that Harry could see in the closet … under the cloak … but he could feel his glare. "Stop glaring at me. I didn't mean anything by it."
"How did you --"
"Pansy's tough," Harry said.
"Not any more," Malfoy replied in a defeated tone.
"Deep down she is, Draco. You know that."
"But," Draco hesitated. "Oh, hell. She's addicted to the stuff they're making here. She's so weak now. That's why they took her, you know. Her father tried to stop them, and they took her to punish him."
Harry didn't know what to say. He'd suspected as much, but hadn't dared voice his thoughts. "If she's managed this long, she can make it another day," he tried to reassure Malfoy. "At most. Tomorrow, whether we get into the office or not, we'll get her out, okay?" He could feel Malfoy nod. "Besides, we still need to look up the counter-spell and come up with a plan of escape."
"A plan?"
"Yes, a plan. We won't all fit under this cloak, and I suspect there will be more traps than just the spell awaiting us."
"It's just …" Harry could feel Malfoy shaking beside him.
"What?"
"You," Malfoy laughed, almost hysterically. "You never plan anything. You just throw yourself in, where others fear to go."
"I've grown up a bit, Malfoy."
"Mmm," he replied, lifting his hand and placing it on Harry's chest. "So I've noticed."
~*~*~
An Auror in Dog's Clothing - Part 2
.
Here is my contribution to the fest:
Title: A Sheep An Auror in Wolf's Dog's Clothing
Author: sesheta_66
Betas: alaana_fair and softly_sweetly
Pairing: Harry Potter / Draco Malfoy
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: ~ 11,000 words
DH epilogue compliant?: EWE.
Summary: At a dead-end in an illegal potions case, when the Aurors finally have a lead, the only way they can act on it is by using a rather unconventional undercover technique. When Auror Potter discovers someone else undercover, he has a choice to make. Trust the person and team up or go it alone. Originally written as a gift for ravenpan for the hd_inspired Animagus fest.
Disclaimer: Characters and setting all belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No infringement is intended, and no money is being earned.
"Kingsley wants to meet with us in his office," Ron called through Harry's door almost the instant he'd arrived at work.
"What for?" he asked, irritated at being called away from his case. It had been frustrating him for a good few months now, ever since all the leads went cold. Wizards were manufacturing illegal potions, and they had managed to infiltrate London's Muggle drug network as well. Just when they thought they'd had the perfect lead, they discovered the lengths to which the organization would go to prevent anyone from talking. A modified form of the Fidelius Charm was used, so that no one could disclose anything about the operation; if they did, they died on the spot.
The one arrest they'd managed to make ended up putting their entire investigation behind by months, because now the operation had tightened up security, and hadn't let the one lead return. He'd been cut off entirely, and so had the Aurors.
Running his hand through his hair and huffing in annoyance, Harry got up and followed Ron into Kingsley's office.
"We have a lead in the potions case," Kingsley announced as soon as Harry and Ron took their seats. "Someone slipped up and contacted our would-be informant."
"I thought they'd shut down all communication," Harry said.
"Well, they weren't exactly communicating," Kingsley replied. "They sent a hit wizard to finish him off."
"Shit," Ron mumbled beside Harry.
"Indeed. We had been monitoring his flat, so we were signalled when someone arrived. But before we even knew what was happening, he was dead. The only consolation is that the Tracking Charm was activated," Kingsley continued. "Thanks to the recent modifications, this version is virtually undetectable."
"And the hit wizard led you ...?" Harry asked.
"Long story short, he led us to someone who led us to someone who led us to a sheep farm in the Scottish Highlands."
"So, what?" Ron asked. "Are we investigating sub-par wool exports now?"
Harry sniggered before Kingsley cleared his throat. "No, Weasley," he said derisively, "we believe the farm is a cover for the potions lab."
"Oh." Ron was suitably abashed.
"Right. Potter, you're still the lead Auror of record on this, but I'm hoping to use your skills in another area for a few weeks." He gave Harry a hopeful look before continuing. "I'm pulling in a few other teams to help with the investigative end of it. Weasley, if Harry agrees, you'll take over while he is otherwise indisposed, and continue to oversee the team running the information as we receive it."
"I know I haven't screwed up, so there must be some other reason you're pulling me off the case," Harry said.
"You don't have to do this, Harry, but --"
"Whatever it is, just let me know." Harry trusted Kingsley, and he respected him, both as an Auror and as a boss.
"I don't think we'll be able to get close enough to get the evidence we need," Kingsley began. "The wards on this place rival any I've seen. By the time we would be able to get through them, the potions would most assuredly be destroyed. And after that arrest, well ...." He left the rest unspoken.
"They're on alert, and they'll be watching for something," Ron finished.
"Exactly."
"So what are you proposing?" Harry asked.
"You're an Animagus." It wasn't a question.
"Yes. Unregistered, as you know."
Ron huffed at Harry's side. It had been a sore spot with him during Auror training. They were all expected to attempt the transformations, but Harry had been the only one in their class to succeed. Well, as far as he knew anyway. No one else had seen Harry succeed, except Ron, as they had worked in teams of two. Kingsley had never shared the information with anyone else. It was in Harry's file, but no one had access to that information except Kingsley and the Minister himself. And Harry doubted even the Minister knew. Plausible deniability.
Harry's stomach twisted as he put the pieces together. "Exactly what are you suggesting?" Harry asked, needing to hear the words.
"Your Animagus form is a dog, correct?"
While pleased that he wasn't something like a ferret, Harry's rather shaggy form had been a source of amusement for Ron, though Harry suspected the taunting was motivated by his jealousy.
"Yes. It's ... a Catalan."
"Which is perfect for the task. It seems that there are a few of that breed used on the farm, so you could blend in," Kingsley explained.
Ron snorted. Harry glared at him.
"You don't have to do this," Kingsley repeated. But really, what choice did they have? It wasn't as though they had any other means of breaking this illegal potions ring.
"It's okay. After all, what's the point in being an Animagus if I don't use the skill?"
Kingsley grinned, looking relieved.
Ron went with Kingsley to the conference room to meet with the rest of the team, while Harry prepared to go undercover. He would wait up near the farm, in an area where they regularly took the sheep to graze. When the farm hands appeared with the flock, Harry would take the place of one of the dogs, while the Ministry kept the farm dog safe. The Auror that would be accompanying Harry and switching the dogs would have no idea that it was actually Harry. Only Kingsley and Ron knew what was happening.
He spent the day reviewing the file the intelligence group had compiled on the farm since discovering its location. It turned out that it was a legitimate, well-established sheep farm that had been operating for generations. From what they could uncover, the current owners had come into some money, and had taken a year-long trip around the world, leaving the day-to-day running of the business to the farm hands, overseen by some foreigner. This stranger was brought in because he supposedly specialized in this sort of thing. The owners hadn't been seen or heard from since, if you didn't count the occasional post card that was received from one place or another.
The Ministry suspected that the owners had been placed under the Imperius Curse and forced to announce their "trip" and the person who would be in charge during their absence. After that, who knew? They suspected that the owners were dead, and that the postcards were merely a cover to prevent any investigation. They had no family, so it was only the farm hands and friends that needed to be fooled.
The farm was still operating as a legitimate business, but the Ministry believed that there was a laboratory on site, and that it was the manufacturing and distribution centre for the potions. Its location was secluded enough not to risk anyone accidentally stumbling upon it, and large enough to enable its operation without raising the concerns of the workers.
The magical protection on the place belied the true nature of things. The perimeter had mild detection wards, which Harry could pass in his Animagus form. The sheep and dogs apparently crossed the barriers frequently when grazing. It was the main building that had the most protection. The magic emanating from the structure was strong, but the investigation hadn't uncovered the source, magnitude or even the specific location. If Harry could get in, he could, quite literally, sniff around for more information.
~*~*~
Harry spent the next day handing over the other active files on his desk, with status reports and briefings to the various Senior Aurors who were taking over his caseload, and the evening was spent at the local pub with Ron.
"You sure about this, mate?" Ron had asked over a pint.
"Not much choice."
"Kingsley gave you a choice. You don't have to do it."
"What would you do, Ron? You know that we'll never get the evidence we need without someone on the inside, and after that debacle, we're not likely to ever get anyone near the place. It's our only chance."
"I know, but why does it always have to be you?"
Harry had to laugh. "Really, Ron, would you rather spend the next few weeks herding sheep as a dog?"
"Well … no, not really."
"Not really?"
"Right. Definitely not. But seriously, why is it always you?"
"In this case, I just happen to be the one who fits the bill, don't I?"
"Just like you happened to fly by McGonagall's office in first year, and you happened to be a Parselmouth in second year, and you happened to be Sirius's godson in third year, and you happened to get chosen by the Goblet of Fire in fourth year, and you happened to get attacked by Dementors in fifth year, and you happened to figure out what was going on with Malfoy in sixth, and --"
"Are you quite done?" Harry snapped. "First year, yeah that was a fluke that it was McGonagall's office. But everything else was because of Voldemort. It was because of him that I knew Parseltongue, because of him Sirius was in prison, because of him my name got drawn, because the Ministry refused to acknowledge his return that Umbridge sent the Dementors after me. And sixth year? I didn't happen to discover anything. I suspected Malfoy and followed him - relentlessly, I might add - against your and Hermione's wishes."
"Sorry, mate," Ron said. "I'm just frustrated with this case, it's been a long few weeks, and I'm tired. I know it's not your fault this stuff happens to you."
"Well, sixth year was."
"Yeah. Git."
"What?" Harry glared at Ron.
"Malfoy, I mean. Stupid git."
"Well, he did have good reason."
"Not that again, Harry. He nearly took you to Voldemort."
"Ron, we've been through this. You didn't see what I did. You don't know what it was like for him, and I only got a glimpse of it. I can only imagine how horrible it was. Besides, is there anything you wouldn't do to save your family?"
"I wouldn't kill someone."
"You wouldn't?"
"Well … I'd like to think I wouldn’t."
"Right, and Malfoy never killed anyone either. So let it go." Harry's tone left no room for further debate.
"No problem. At least I haven't had to look at his face for ages. How long has it been?"
"Years. What do you figure he's been up to?" Harry asked, feeling suddenly curious and pleased to be discussing something besides the case. He would be immersed in it soon enough.
"Who cares?" Ron replied. "Just so long as he stays away from me."
Harry frowned at his friend. He wasn't sure why, but he really wouldn't mind finding out what his former school rival had been doing since the war. It was with Malfoy still on his mind that he drifted off to sleep that night.
~*~*~
Infiltrating the farm was relatively easy. He had transformed at the Ministry, and was brought Side-Along by an Auror to the agreed-upon spot about a mile away from the edge of the wards. They waited in a small strip of trees until the flock was brought to graze, and a soft bark from Harry drew one of the dogs away from his task. The switch was made, Harry was in place and he was all set.
Naturally, the rest of the mission was not as easy. The dogs were expected to keep watch on the flock at all times, so any attempt at veering away was met with annoyance from the farm hands. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, Harry relented and acted the part. Not the most patient wizard in the world, by the time they'd returned to the farm at dusk, Harry was desperate to start nosing around. But it was not to be.
The dogs were not left to their own devices at night, as Harry had hoped, but rather were fed, watered, and housed in a barn. Surprisingly, the food hadn't bothered him as he'd expected. He realised that it wasn't just his appearance that had changed. This gave him a small sense of comfort as he remembered Sirius surviving on rats when he'd first escaped from Azkaban.
By the time they were shuffled into the barn, darkness had fallen. Once settled, Harry was shocked to hear voices. No, that wasn't right. There weren't any voices as such, more like thoughts floating around with growling as a backdrop. Was he actually hearing the other dogs?
He had a flashback to a time when Sirius had said that Crookshanks could tell that he wasn't really a dog. Why would it be so impossible to imagine that the dogs would communicate with each other on some level?
Harry curled up on the floor of the barn away from the rest of them, so he could listen. It was rather surreal actually. The words were jumbled, and they all seemed to be talking, or thinking at once. Well, really, what had he been expecting? Some Dr. Dolittle style talking with the animals? That they'd just direct him to the evidence and he'd be away?
He didn't want to try slipping away in the dark this first night, before he'd had a chance to figure out the layout of the place. He hadn't seen much besides the grazing area and the barn before night had fallen, and it wouldn’t do to get caught roaming around before he'd even hatched a plan.
By the time he drifted off, his head was spinning and had begun to ache from all the voices. He sure hoped he'd be out of this place soon.
~*~*~
The second day dawned brightly, and Harry was able to roam the farm a little bit before they went back out to pasture with the sheep. It was much like the first day, and Harry was exhausted by the time they made it to the barn at night. But he had seen enough of the place that he thought he could slip out and take a look at the main house, maybe even figure a way in.
He had brought his Invisibility Cloak with him, but didn't want to risk wandering around in his human form until he managed to figure out where security was at its height. Who knew what wards were placed on the main house? He suspected his cloak wouldn’t do much good against them.
He managed to slip out of the barn undetected, and made it around to the front of the house before, "Grrrrr." Harry had come face-to-face with a growling, haughty-looking guard dog.
"Shhh!" Harry said. "Be quiet."
"What?" he heard the other dog reply. What the hell? That wasn’t anything like the buzzing incoherent gibberish he'd heard from the other dogs in the barn.
"Er … shhh?" Harry ventured. The other dog looked shocked, lifting its head and looking down his nose at Harry.
"Mutt."
"I'm not a mutt," Harry said, quite insulted. He may be shaggy and playful, but he was not a mutt.
The other dog's eyes narrowed, as if he were considering Harry. Then he growled again and stood his ground. Harry moved forward, and the growl became more menacing.
"Come on, let me by," Harry tried, not sure if the dog understood him or not. He suspected that perhaps it was a little like Parseltongue. He spoke English in his mind, but the other language just … happened.
"No," he thought he heard beneath a deeper growl.
"Fine, then," Harry huffed and made his way back to the barn.
As he sat listening to the noise the last few awake dogs were making, he wondered how on earth he could understand that guard dog when it wasn't even the same breed. It was with that puzzling thought, and the desperate need for a plan to get past said dog, that he finally fell asleep.
~*~*~
The next night, Harry came across the white guard dog again. And again the dog growled at him, and stood his ground, preventing Harry from passing. Again it was as though they were having a regular conversation in English.
"How come I can understand you, but not the other dogs?" Harry asked.
"I am a purebred Canaan," the guard dog replied. "Obviously I have greater communication skills than the average canine." Something about the way he'd spoken - or thought - seemed eerily familiar. That and the way he stiffened his back and stuck his nose up even higher in the air.
"The more interesting question," the guard dog continued, "is why can I understand you?"
Harry couldn't answer that. He didn't have a clue.
"And you're still not getting in."
~*~*~
Once again, Harry returned to the barn.
The next night was the same, with Harry approaching, the guard dog stopping him, a few exchanged words, and Harry returning to the barn.
The following night, Harry waited until later before venturing out. He stayed back when he saw the dog in place at the door. He watched for about an hour before giving it up as a bad job.
The night after that, Harry waited until nearly half the night was through, and he was barely able to stay awake, before venturing out. As he approached the house, all he could think of was telling Ron that he was dog tired - he groaned inwardly at his own sad attempt at humour, though he expected Ron would have howled with laughter. Harry winced, knowing his mind was messing with him.
Finally, he thought as he approached the house and saw no white dog standing guard. He slowly stuck his snout through the doggy door, half expecting it to be scratched, but there was no sign of him. He climbed through and into the house. Right. Now what?
He was inside the kitchen, which looked fairly standard for a country home, with a large wooden table, wooden cupboards and a pantry. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and Harry couldn’t sense any wards in the immediate area. He nudged open the swinging door gently and made his way out into the hallway.
To the right was a large sitting room with comfortably worn furniture and a big fireplace. On the left were a series of closed doors. Harry snooped around the sitting room, but saw nothing incriminating, and moved on. Unfortunately, all the other areas of that level were blocked by doors, so Harry had to transform.
He returned to human form, pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, and opened the first door. The room was dark, so he closed the door and turned on the light, not wanting to use magic in case it triggered an alarm. It was a small guest room, by the looks of things. There was a sofa bed, a small table and a chest of drawers that held linens. Otherwise, there was nothing of note. He turned off the light and closed the door behind him, careful not to make to much noise.
As he turned round to move on to the next room, he walked directly into …
"Malfoy?" Shit! The word was out of his mouth before he could stop himself, so shocked to see Malfoy standing in front of him.
Malfoy yanked the Invisibility Cloak off him. "Potter? What are you doing here?"
"I'm an Auror. What do you think I'm doing here? I'm on a case."
"But how did you get in here?"
"I'd rather not say."
Malfoy studied him. "No," he said to no one in particular. He looked into Harry's eyes, then narrowed his own. "That dog. That black dog that's been trying to get in here! That's you!"
"How would you know --" Harry said before it was too late. Damn. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut around Malfoy? "Wait a minute! You're that white guard dog?" Well, that explained the haughtiness anyway.
"That's hardly the point."
"So what are you doing here?" Harry asked, deciding to ponder the strange coincidence later.
"None of your business."
"I'm on a case, Malfoy. Do I need to arrest you?"
"Oh, please. As if you have any evidence to arrest me."
"Well, I could just take you in for questioning."
Malfoy's eyes went wide. "No!"
"Give me a reason not to then."
"I'm here to get Pansy out."
"Parkinson? I didn't know she was part of this."
"She isn't." Malfoy looked down at his feet, then back up at Harry. "She isn't," he repeated. Harry raised his eyebrows in question. "They kidnapped her."
"Why would they kidnap Pansy and why didn't I know about this?"
"Strange as it may seem, Potter, not everyone comes to you to be rescued."
Harry rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant," he said through clenched teeth. Prat. "If it had been reported to the Aurors, I would know about it."
"Well, then I suppose you've answered your own question. Strange that. I would've thought it would take you much longer to figure things out."
Ignoring the jibe, Harry asked, "Why didn't her parents report it?"
"Because her parents don't trust the Aurors, and they wanted to do things their way."
"But I still don’t understand why they would have taken Pansy, unless --"
"Don't strain yourself, Potter. It's really none of your business. All you need to know is that she's being held here against her will."
"Your point?"
Draco heaved a heavy sigh. "My point, Potter, is that if you charge in trying to save the world, Pansy could be killed. I haven't gone to all this trouble just to have my friend die."
"I wouldn't … I won't do anything to cause harm to Pansy. Trust me." Harry meant it. He'd seen enough people die already.
Draco snorted, but otherwise didn't argue the point.
"So … care to tell me about all this work you've done?"
"Not really."
"Two heads are better than one, Malfoy."
Draco looked pointedly at Harry's hair. "But yours is so … messy."
"Ha ha, very funny. No really, you're killing me!"
"Ah … wishful thinking."
"Prat."
"Idiot."
"Right, so now that we've become reacquainted, spill the beans. What have you learned?" Malfoy looked as though he were about to object. "And before you get your fur standing on end, I give you my word that whatever Pansy's involvement is, I will do my very best to leave her out of this. You, too, if you wish." Malfoy looked sceptical. "Malfoy, I'm a trained investigator, and much as you will want to deny it, I'm a very good one."
"Oh, alright."
They went into the kitchen where they wouldn't be heard and they could hear anyone approaching. They spent the rest of the night discussing the comings and goings of the staff. There were, as the Ministry suspected, two sets. One set of Muggles that ran the sheep herding operation, and one set of wizards who manufactured and distributed the potions.
Most of the work was carried out when the Muggles were off with the sheep, so they didn't raise suspicions. They could have cast the Imperius Curse or Obliviated them as required, but it was cleaner this way, Malfoy had heard one of them say.
"They are very good at what they do, Potter. They have managed to keep these Muggles out of the loop for months, with all this going on just under their noses. And they've done it with very little magic, too."
"How is that possible?"
"It's rather simple, actually. The man running the operation, Stuart Matheson, was placed in charge by the owners."
"Right," Harry said sceptically.
"Precisely. No doubt an Imperius was cast at the time, but it was believable. They had some lottery windfall and went on a trip or something. Anyway, he's in charge, and from day one he had one rule above all others."
"Which was?"
"That the house was his home. He would not bring work into his home, and he expected the same of the staff. No one is permitted entry, and if they think it's strange, they haven't said. I presume they have simply got used to it," Draco explained.
"So no one ever ventures in here?"
"Never. He said that he would not presume to wander into someone else's home uninvited, and the fact that his home happened to be on site was no reason for them to think otherwise. He would not enter their private living quarters, and he expected that they would not enter his."
"Makes sense."
"Yes, it does. Anyone that tries it gets fired. No questions, no explanations, no excuses, no second chances. Knocking at the door had better mean there is a dire emergency. Otherwise it is considered an imposition."
"And they'd get fired," Harry added.
"Right."
"Ingenious, really."
"Cunning, yes. I imagine he'd have been in Slytherin in his day, had he attended Hogwarts."
Draco went on to explain everything he knew, and all the areas of the house he'd eliminated. He had yet to find Pansy, but he still held out hope that he would. With all the protection surrounding this place, he didn't think there'd be a safer location to keep someone. Harry didn't voice the thought that she might already be dead. He suspected Malfoy had already had that thought.
"So, now that you've got all this information, I presume you expect me to back off," Draco said, staring straight into Harry's eyes. Harry saw a look of sheer determination in the stormy grey before him. "I won't, you know."
Harry chose not to answer. Instead, he got up and made his way towards the door. Turning around, he asked, "Well, are you coming?"
"What?"
"I asked if you --"
"I heard you, but ... you mean you're not going to pull rank and tell me to get lost?"
"Under normal circumstances, I might have. But we both know that you know this place better than anyone, and if it were my friend in there, I wouldn't let anyone stop me going in."
"I wouldn't let you."
"I know. But I won't try to stop you anyway. Let's go."
Draco showed Harry around the house briefly before he had to get back to his guard post, since he'd already been gone for hours. He explained that most of the rooms were relatively innocuous, the usual bedrooms, sitting rooms and such. There was one warded room that was the owner's office, which Draco had been in a couple of times along with him, as a dog.
"It didn't look like much," he explained to Harry, "but it wouldn’t surprise me if distribution records and other incriminating evidence were inside."
"It would make sense to keep that sort of thing away from the potions, just in case there was an accident. Is there a computer in there?"
"Mm hmm. And a safe."
"A safe?"
"Like I said, he's smart. He's probably warded it with something nasty. I can't be sure, since I couldn't hear him as he removed whatever spell was on it before opening it. And," Draco continued with a smirk, "he manually entered the combination."
"No magic?"
"Not for the combination. It wouldn't surprise me if he's combined that with another spell so that no one without the combination can get it without either a nasty shock or destroying the contents."
"Shit." He could be there forever at this rate. Draco raised his eyebrows and grinned widely at Harry. "You have the combination?"
"But of course," he said. "I may be here to rescue Pansy, and frankly I don't give a shit about bringing down their operation, but I'm not a Slytherin for nothing." Harry gave him a questioning look. "I observe everything, Potter. One never knows when information will prove useful. And really, what kind of a Slytherin would I be if I didn’t take the opportunity handed me so willingly?"
Harry grinned back at Malfoy. "I'm impressed," he said. And he meant it. If Malfoy's look meant anything, he was as stunned to hear that as Harry was to have said it.
The upper level consisted of bedrooms, bathrooms and linen closets. There were no additional wards on any of the rooms, and as far as Malfoy could tell, there was nothing to be found there.
"Which bedroom is his?" Draco pointed to the end one. "I'll want to check that, just to be sure. You never know what secrets he might be hiding in there."
"My, Potter, I didn't take you for a voyeur," Malfoy sneered. Harry noted that, for once, it was without malice.
Much to his mortification, Harry's cheeks flushed. "Not that kind of secret!"
"Ah, too bad," Malfoy offered. "I've been here for weeks now and I could use a good show." Harry merely gaped at him. "Close your mouth, Potter, or I might think you're making me an offer."
Harry went a brighter shade of red and sputtered something incoherent. "Really, Potter, you make it too easy." Harry wondered if that were true in general, or if it was just Malfoy that affected him this way.
"Shut up."
"That's quite a come back, Harry," he sniggered. "I suppose it's an improvement over the punch in the face you might have dished out in school."
"Could we get back to the task at hand?" Harry asked, trying unsuccessfully to return his face to its natural shade. At Malfoy's amused look, he added, "Don't even think about saying --"
"Wouldn't dream of it," Malfoy chuckled.
~*~*~
The next day passed painfully slowly, as Harry was itching to return to see Malfoy … no, to find some evidence. Malfoy was merely a means to an end. By the time dusk fell, Harry was convinced he could spend the rest of his life sheep-free and be quite content indeed. Those pesky blighters did love to wander off. Bloody things.
That night when he approached the house, Malfoy was still in his Animagus form. Harry took some time to appreciate the look of the animal. Of course Malfoy would be the haughtiest looking dog Harry'd ever seen. The way he looked down his nose at … well, at anyone or anything, dripped of condescension. But it was more than that. He was … regal. Just like the man himself. And, amusingly enough, Harry realised that Draco's Animagus form was rather reflective of his personality too, as were those of his father, Sirius and Peter Pettigrew.
"Are you going to stand there underneath that cloak staring at me all night, Potter?"
Harry jumped. "What the?"
Draco transformed into his human form again and touched his nose. "Sense of smell, Potter, remember? Dogs have keen ones. You'd think you'd remember that since you've spent the last week as one."
"Oh … right." Harry was flustered and more than a bit embarrassed at being caught. Not that he hadn't watched Malfoy before. Hell, he'd spent his sixth year doing almost nothing but watch him. But this was different. This time he had no agenda. He was just … curious? Surprised? Interested? That last thought hit him like a ton of bricks. No, he couldn't be interested in Malfoy. It was curiosity, that was all.
Had he given the idea of Malfoy being an Animagus much thought - which of course he hadn't, because he most definitely didn't spend time thinking about Malfoy of all people - he'd have probably expected Malfoy's Animagus form to be a ferret. Barty Crouch junior was to blame for that. And Malfoy's teasing must have been to blame for Harry's wayward thoughts.
Bringing himself back to the present, Harry said, "I guess I was just processing the fact that you're an Animagus, and a dog at that."
As though reading Harry's thoughts, Malfoy retorted, "What did you expect, a ferret?"
"Er …" Harry said.
"Because a ferret is what you think I am, is that it, Potter?" Harry realised that the reference still stung. "I am hardly a little thief."
"Little thief?"
"Yes, Potter, that's what ferret means."
"No, I didn't mean … I hadn't really … I … oh, hell, I'm sorry."
"What?"
"I said I'm sorry. The only reason I would have ever thought that was that it's the only animal I've ever seen you change into. And … well … the coat was white and you're fair, and … never mind. I didn't mean anything by it."
"You do realize that Animagus forms reflect the personality of the humans, don't you?"
"I hadn't given the matter much thought before today, actually. But that's exactly what I was thinking when I was looking at you just now."
"Really?" Malfoy asked. Oh, that tone was not good. "And what were you thinking about my personality?"
"Nothing. Let's just drop it, all right?"
"Why, Potter? Afraid you might have something nice to say about me for a change? Come on. You've already apologised to me today, and that's got to be a first. What harm could a compliment do?"
"I don't hear you offering up any compliments."
"Fine, your Animagus form is playful, shaggy and carefree. It looks after its own and those weaker than it. And it has your eyes."
"Is shaggy a compliment?"
"Well, no, although looking at your hair now, it might be an improvement, so …"
"My Animagus form has my eyes?"
"Yes. That deep, piercing green."
"I didn't know."
"Well, now you do. So … what were you thinking when you were staring at me?"
"Honestly, I wasn't just thinking about you. I was thinking about how my dad, my godfather and Peter Pettigrew all had Animagus forms that matched them. My dad was a leader of sorts, and liked to show off to the ladies, my godfather was rough and gruff and foolhardy, and Pettigrew … well, he was a rat if ever I've met one."
"Ahem." Malfoy gave him a get back to the point look.
"Oh, sorry."
"That's twice you've apologized to me now, Potter."
"Whatever."
"So … out with it."
"Well, I suppose the fact that the dog is white matches your colouring."
"Be careful; you'll make me blush with such high praise."
Harry scowled at him. "And the dog is … haughty."
"Hey!"
"Well, you said I was scruffy."
"Point."
"But when I thought about it, the haughtiness is actually more … regal. You know … well groomed, high brow --"
"In other words, pompous."
"No!" Harry was quick to correct. "I might have said that before, you know, when we were in school. But now I don't mean it as an insult at all. It's like you know the right thing to do in any situation, and you carry yourself with ease and grace, and you are never out-classed."
Malfoy stared at him, open-mouthed.
Harry looked at Malfoy's mouth and smirked. "Is that an invitation?" he teased, throwing Malfoy's line back at him.
"Why, Potter? Do you want it to be?" Malfoy leered at him. Well, that was an unexpected response.
"Um."
Draco laughed. "Maybe later. Right now we have my friend to rescue and a case to break, right?"
"Right." Harry wasn't entirely sure what his response meant, but he was happy to agree and return to safer topics of conversation.
They entered the house, only this time they went towards the lower level. Malfoy pointed out the corridor leading to the cellar and Harry could feel the thrum of magic emanating from below. He made to move forward, but Malfoy stopped him with an outstretched arm.
"Surveillance cameras," he whispered, pointing up to the ceiling. Sure enough, there were two cameras monitoring the corridor.
Harry smiled. "Well then, come under here," Harry said as he pulled out the Invisibility Cloak."
"I thought we agreed that we were going to solve this problem first," Malfoy said with a grin, as he climbed under the cloak, sidling up beside Harry.
"Very funny," Harry countered.
"Just imagine the fun you could have … anywhere you want …" Harry didn't look at Malfoy, thankful for the cover of the cloak and the darkness they were under. He was sure his face was flaming red once more. Then again, the heat from it alone might give him away.
"Malfoy? The case?"
"Right. Carry on, then."
There were five doors in total down the corridor; they led to one broom cupboard, one clothes closet, one mud room, and one study. The last door, which Malfoy said led to the lower level, was heavily warded. Harry had never mastered the art of detecting spell work like Dumbledore had - really, who had? - so that left him with a dilemma. Use his wand and risk detection, or wait. He pulled out his wand.
"Are you crazy?" Malfoy asked.
"I believe you've suggested that in the past."
"And I believe you gave me your word that you wouldn't risk Pansy's life."
"True," Harry agreed. "I'm not actually planning to use it; I've only taken it out in case I need it."
Malfoy snorted. "I bet you say that all the time."
Harry rolled his eyes and, realising Malfoy couldn't see, gave him a nudge. "Prat."
"A regal prat."
"I am definitely going to regret telling you that, aren't I?"
Malfoy sniggered. "Definitely."
The sound of footsteps came from behind the door in front of them. "Shit!" Harry said. "Quick. In here." He opened the clothes closet - after all, the broom cupboard would be soooo cliché - and they slipped inside, closing the door behind them.
"Well, this is cosy," Malfoy said.
"Shut it!" Harry retorted.
"I would have thought you'd prefer --"
"Shh!" Harry said as he clamped his hand over Malfoy's mouth. "He'll hear you."
They listened as the door opened then closed again. "You be good now," they heard him say. A whimper sounded in the background, and Harry felt Malfoy stiffen. "Obfirmo Claustrum" Footsteps followed and faded away into the distance.
Harry stood there, processing what they'd heard. Surely that was Pansy in the cellar. And the spell …
"Malfoy!" Harry said as he pulled his hand away. "You licked me!"
"Well, would you prefer I bite you?" Malfoy asked. "That could be arranged you know." Harry huffed. "Your hand was covering my mouth. I wanted to speak."
"Right. Sorry about that."
"Who are you?"
"What?"
"You've apologised to me three times now."
"I didn't realise you were keeping count."
"It's just so … strange."
"Fine. I'll never do it again."
"Whatever. Anyway, I think that's Pansy down there."
"I agree. And now we know the spell that he's used."
"All we need is the counter-charm."
"Right. But I still want to get into that office. And that safe."
"But Pansy …"
Harry put his hand on Malfoy's shoulder to reassure him. "She's been here this long. I know it's hard --"
"You have no idea!"
"No, you're right. But I do know what it's like to be held captive." Malfoy glared at him. Well, not that Harry could see in the closet … under the cloak … but he could feel his glare. "Stop glaring at me. I didn't mean anything by it."
"How did you --"
"Pansy's tough," Harry said.
"Not any more," Malfoy replied in a defeated tone.
"Deep down she is, Draco. You know that."
"But," Draco hesitated. "Oh, hell. She's addicted to the stuff they're making here. She's so weak now. That's why they took her, you know. Her father tried to stop them, and they took her to punish him."
Harry didn't know what to say. He'd suspected as much, but hadn't dared voice his thoughts. "If she's managed this long, she can make it another day," he tried to reassure Malfoy. "At most. Tomorrow, whether we get into the office or not, we'll get her out, okay?" He could feel Malfoy nod. "Besides, we still need to look up the counter-spell and come up with a plan of escape."
"A plan?"
"Yes, a plan. We won't all fit under this cloak, and I suspect there will be more traps than just the spell awaiting us."
"It's just …" Harry could feel Malfoy shaking beside him.
"What?"
"You," Malfoy laughed, almost hysterically. "You never plan anything. You just throw yourself in, where others fear to go."
"I've grown up a bit, Malfoy."
"Mmm," he replied, lifting his hand and placing it on Harry's chest. "So I've noticed."
~*~*~
An Auror in Dog's Clothing - Part 2
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