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A Reign of Silence	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3889 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Chapter Eighteen--True Allegiances

            "And you think we're going to march into the Ministry, and that'll be it?"

            Draco ground his teeth. He understood Macgeorge's impulse to pick and nag and argue. She had been a captive of a man who could make reality appear to be whatever he wanted, and her body had been used to commit crimes. She would be more distrustful of the Ministry and its hierarchy than the other Aurors were, at least once she regained her senses fully and started to think about the long-term consequences of her actions.

            "No," said Rudie. Draco had to admire the way she had come back to herself after she was assured Macgeorge was safe. She couldn't stop smiling and looking at her partner, or reaching out to touch her shoulder and elbow as though to feel solid flesh, but she had interceded between Macgeorge and the rest of them, especially between Macgeorge and Jenkins, without ever dropping her gentleness. "But we have to explain the truth to them, or they'll never believe that you've returned to yourself."

            "I'm not sure that I believe in it, sometimes," Macgeorge said, and ran one hand down her face.

            "A quick way to get yourself put back into prison is to say that where someone can hear," Draco snapped. He ignored Rudie's look. He had put up with this nonsense longer than anyone should have to. "We're going to have enough trouble convincing them that Ernhardt is really gone. They think he's invincible, now, and they hate that he made a fool of them by pretending to be Head Auror. They'll do anything they can to seize on someone else to blame. Don't give them that person."

            Macgeorge thought about it, and then grunted a little. "There's some sense in what you say," she admitted. "You really think they'll believe me, though? I don't have any proof that it was Ernhardt and not me who committed those crimes."

            "There's always Veritaserum," Draco reminded her cheerfully. "Or Legilimency, assuming you want to submit your mind to someone other than me. Or I can put the memory of your mind being cleansed in a Pensieve."

            Macgeorge looked at him evenly, then nodded. "I might ask you to do that," she said, and leaned around the corner of the little alley behind the Ministry entrance in which they stood, looking for Jenkins and Warren, who had gone ahead into the Ministry. "Where are they? It can't take that long to make sure whether anyone is in the Socrates office."

            "But longer to make sure of a clear path to get you there."

            Draco started and turned. He hadn't sensed Jenkins sneaking up behind them, and he really should have. She only raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a thin smile, and then turned to Macgeorge. Macgeorge promptly ducked her head and played with her wand. Draco had noticed that she seemed more disposed to yield to Jenkins, even as she snarled and snapped at her suggestions.

            "I've found someone I think might listen to you," Jenkins told her quietly. "You were with Lucretius Corps at one point, weren't you?"

            Macgeorge grimaced. "Yes, but none of them put in a word against my being transferred to Socrates. I don't think they would care now."

            "You're wrong about that," Jenkins said calmly. "Some of them cared a lot when you were taken captive by a twisted, even though they might have thought that you would work better in a different Corps."

            Harry choked. Draco clapped a little. "Congratulations on mastering the Ministry jargon," he said. "Now, who is it?"

            Jenkins gave him the same mild look that she had met Macgeorge with. "Her name is Ellen Terry."

            Draco blinked. Terry was a better choice than he would have thought Jenkins would make, a tough and practical Auror who had a reputation for common sense and for not being above using Dark magic when she had to. Of course, she had also survived in the Ministry by not taking political risks. Draco would approve of her as a champion; he just didn't think that she would ever consent to serve as one.

            "And what's going to make her act?" Harry asked, in a slow drawl that Draco had to smile at. He turned to find Harry standing with his arms folded across his chest and his head shaking slightly, in the stance that Draco would have adopted already if he had thought it would do any good. "I know Terry, and while she's a good Auror, she really only cares about herself. I don't know what you have on her to make her take your side."

            "I did her a favor once," Jenkins said, and smiled in a way that made her look younger than Draco had ever seen her. "She hates the fact that she's never managed to repay me before now, because I didn't need anything from her. She'll leap at the chance to be rid of the obligation."

            Harry exchanged a glance with Draco. Draco nodded a little, but let Harry be the one to speak the doubt, since they both had the same one. "That doesn't sound like it will--work, sorry. She might consider our case, but she won't stand up for Macgeorge unless she really thinks she's innocent."

            "The consideration is the only thing I wanted to buy with the favor, anyway," Jenkins said, shrugging. "No, I can't make her do anything else. But without the favor, we wouldn't have this much chance."

            Draco sighed. He had to admit that he couldn't think of anyone more likely to believe them, and Terry at least had the advantage that she probably wouldn't run away to anyone else and confess what they'd told her, even if she decided that she didn't believe them. "Fine. Then how are we going to get into the Ministry?"

            "Along the clear corridors." Jenkins turned her head, and then nodded as a small silvery shape bounded up beside her. A wolf, Draco recognized after a startled, blinking moment. That was Warren's Patronus, as he remembered from the cellar of Cuthbert's Corner when he thought about it. "And here's our guide. Thomasina's managed to get us as much of a chance as we're likely to have. Ready?"

            She looked at Macgeorge more than the rest of them, not seeming to notice the way Rudie immediately nodded. She waited until Macgeorge hesitated, then said, "I'm as ready as I can be after what happened to me."

            Jenkins didn't seem to think that worth commenting on. She immediately turned and followed the wolf towards the end of the alley. Draco leaned for a moment on Harry, and Rudie seemed to lean on Macgeorge, before they followed.

*

            The wolf flattened itself into shadows several times, and once paused with its tail bristling and led them in the opposite direction from the most used route to the lifts. Harry could feel his magic stirring restlessly inside him when that happened. His own stag wanted to come out and join the wolf. It objected to another Patronus doing all the work.

            But he calmed it with nothing more than a light touch to the back of his own neck. They were following Warren for right now, and Harry's stag had no idea where their enemies were coming from. Things would just have to wait.

            At last they were in the Socrates office, and Warren had opened the door and motioned them inside. Harry went in first, shielding Draco. The hair rising on the back of his neck, or maybe just the expression on Warren's face, had already warned him that she wasn't alone here.

            Ellen Terry stood bolt upright in the middle of the office, away from their desks, her arms folded as she waited for them.

            Harry nodded respectfully to her. She had short, curly blond hair and wide blue eyes, and a pale smooth face that made her look like a doll. But she wasn't a doll, and Harry didn't intend to underestimate her.

            "I know what I'm here to listen to," Terry said quietly. Her voice rang with far more commanding presence than anyone so small should have been able to muster, and had been Harry's first warning when he met her that she would be dangerous to underestimate. "What I don't know is what you think will convince me."

            Jenkins and Warren fell back so they were standing on either side of Macgeorge like an honor guard. Draco looked for a moment as though he was going to step forwards and do the same thing, but Harry tugged on his arm and shook his head when Draco looked at him. There was such a thing as overkill, and he didn't want Draco to look as though he was imitating anyone.

            Draco seemed to grasp his thoughts and agree after a second. He nodded grudgingly and moved back so that he was flanking Harry instead. Harry looked up, caught Terry's eye, and flushed a little as she nodded to him before turning back to Macgeorge.

            "Nicolette is the only one who can tell you her story," Jenkins said. Her left arm moved briefly, and Harry realized that it had come down to fasten like an iron bar in front of Rudie's chest. "If you don't believe her, there's nothing we can say to convince you."

            Terry focused on Macgeorge then. "Do you need to take a bath and have something to eat before you tell me?" she asked quietly, eyes on Macgeorge's tangled hair.

            Macgeorge gave her a hard smile. "No, madam. Thank you. I've gone this long without a bath, and I've already had something to eat."

            Even if that was only some biscuits that Rudie was carrying, Harry added silently to himself.

            Macgeorge stood straight and clasped her hands behind her back, the pose that Harry thought she'd probably used to give reports to the Head Auror. "I thought I could hunt the last twisted that Aurors Potter and Malfoy went after because I used my gift of necromancy..."

            Draco winced a little, and Harry dug an elbow into his ribs. The Ministry had questioned everyone around the time of Macgeorge's disappearance, including Rudie, and she hadn't hidden any details she thought the Ministry could use to help her get Macgeorge back, when she still had faith in them to do it. That meant everyone who mattered among the Aurors would already know about Macgeorge's necromancy.

            Terry didn't seem disposed to flee the room at the mere mention of very Dark magic, anyway. Her eyes deepened in color, but she stood listening as Macgeorge explained the end of the Bainbridge case and how she had been near enough, after Harry and Draco almost cornered Ernhardt within his own body, for him to leap to hers.

            "What was that experience like?" Terry asked, her eyes deep again but her voice so soft that Harry couldn't really understand her expression, whatever it was.

            "Like being imprisoned in slime that lets you keep breathing," Macgeorge said. "Like bathing in rotted flesh."

            Terry winced this time. "I believe I understand," she said, voice barely a breath. "Do what you need to do to explain further, but--I understand the basic terms."

            Macgeorge nodded and continued reciting. She remembered little of what had happened until they awakened her in the cavern under Ernhardt's last sanctuary, she explained, but she could describe the sensations, the draining of her magic and the way that Ernhardt had blazed and decayed in the middle of her emotions. Part of her had known that she was attacking her own partner and her old allies even though she hadn't been able to see it.

            "Like knowledge without memory," she told Terry, her jaw set. "Like--being asleep in another room and dreaming about what was going on in the rest of the house."

            "Understood," said Terry, her eyes burning. "And they brought you back to yourself?" For the first time since Macgeorge had started speaking, she looked at the rest of them.

            “Yes,” Macgeorge said. “They used Dark magic to do it.” They had agreed they would have to admit that, but no more details. Terry was the kind of Auror who might reject a soul-draining spell. “They broke Ernhardt’s hold, and once that happened, I could fight my way back to control of myself. They didn’t know if the victory was complete, so they read my mind.”

            “Who did?” Terry stirred a little, but not to clasp her hand on her wand, as Harry had feared. She just looked from face to face as though wondering which of them had such a dangerous power. Harry wondered if he should be insulted or not that her eyes passed over him without once stopping.

            “Auror Malfoy,” Macgeorge said.

            Terry faced Draco. Once again, Harry dug an elbow into his ribs, just as a precaution. Draco nodded to him, and perhaps to Terry, and stood waiting for the questions.

            “You know that Legilimency can be a terrible power, and should only be used under carefully chosen circumstances?” Terry asked him.

            “I know that,” Draco said, and sounded, if not humble, at least not scornful, which was an improvement on what Harry had thought would happen. “I would never have used it if I could think of any other way to make sure that Auror Macgeorge had really returned to herself, but Ernhardt had fooled us before.”

            Terry studied him, then sniffed a little. Harry chose to assume that they had passed for now. She looked back at Macgeorge. “Why do you think the Ministry will despise you for being the victim of a madman?”

            Macgeorge straightened her back. “It’s widely-known that I practiced necromancy in the months before I became a victim. And I’ve used Dark magic, or at least my body has used Dark magic, and I don’t know how many people really believed in what Ernhardt was doing, or that he existed. They might blame me for his crimes, or decide that my necromancy is too Dark to let me come back.”

            Terry’s eyes shifted a little, but she only said, “You would have to cease to practice necromancy if you became an Auror.”

            Macgeorge set her jaw, and then nodded. “I do see that,” she said, when Terry watched her with raised eyebrows. “I know that I can’t—do exactly as I would like all the time.” She winced as Terry frowned. “And it will be hard, I’m not denying that. Necromancy is the Darkest of Dark magic, and all Dark magic is addictive.”

            “Did you know that?” Draco whispered to Harry. “I didn’t know that.”

            Harry nudged him again. Draco ought to have known Macgeorge was only saying that as a way to gain Terry’s support. No matter how much he disagreed with it, he could keep silent for right now.

            Terry gave Draco one sharp look, and then seemed to dismiss him entirely as she turned back to Macgeorge. “You know that there are people who won’t believe you no matter what you say,” she murmured. “Can you stand against them?”

            “With friends behind me. As long as I have at least the chance at a fair hearing.”

            Terry considered her again, then nodded. “What you say is enough to convince me that you suffered, and didn’t rejoice in the Dark magic that Ernhardt made you perform, the way that someone truly lost to the Dark Arts would. I will speak for you.”

            Macgeorge closed her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I’ll owe you a favor.”

            “I’m doing this because my sense of justice demands it,” Terry said. “Not because I want you to owe me a debt, or any other reason. Do you understand?”

            Macgeorge smiled slightly at her. “Yes, Auror Terry. Thank you anyway.”

            Terry waved a dismissive hand and turned towards the door. Draco opened his mouth. Harry tried to nudge away the impulse to speak, but it was too late.

            “Auror Terry,” Draco said, and at least his voice was quiet. “Do you know what happened to Auror Elder? We worked with him briefly on part of this case, but he vanished the last time that Auror Jenkins returned to the Ministry.”

            Terry frowned at them, but Harry had the sensation that her mind was far away, already working on presenting Macgeorge’s case to a bunch of unsympathetic Aurors. “I don’t know what happened to him, no. I heard a few people mention that he was going to be honored for undertaking a dangerous mission, but I haven’t heard anything about him working in the last few days. Perhaps he’s still in the middle of the holiday they gave him.” She smiled, something Harry would have found more comforting if it wasn’t such a wintry expression. “Or perhaps he’s in the middle of another dangerous mission. The reward for being good at your job is more work.”

            She left. Draco’s face had gone pale, and he stood still with his hands closed into such tight fists that Harry couldn’t insinuate his fingers into them even when he tried. Harry nodded at Macgeorge and the others.

            “You don’t need us now, do you?” he asked. “Macgeorge is probably going to be restored to being a full Auror, and we’ve successfully concluded the case you came to help us with.” He looked at Warren and Jenkins.

            “Do you think that we don’t consider Elder as part of the case we came to help you with?” Jenkins asked, staring at him. “We want to know where he went and who he was working for as much as you do.”

            “I don’t,” Rudie said, and smiled one more time at Macgeorge before turning to them with what looked like a normal expression for the first time in weeks. “I need to rest, and I want to stay with Nicolette.”

            “And I have no interest in finding Elder,” Macgeorge said. “I didn’t know him. Sorry.”

            “You should consider that we’re all Socrates Aurors, and that you may be required to help with someone else’s case in the future, as well,” Jenkins said, barely raising her voice above a whisper.

            “But this one is done,” Rudie said. “The twisted has been hunted down and captured, if you like. And Elder isn’t twisted, no matter what else he is. I have no interest in learning his secrets.”

            Draco tensed against Harry’s side for a second, and then relaxed. “Fine,” he said. “Go home and rest. You’ve earned it.”

            Rudie nodded to him and left. Macgeorge hesitated as if she didn’t want to be rude, but in the end, followed her partner.

            “Do you have any idea where to start looking?” Draco asked, turning to Jenkins and Warren as the Socrates office door shut behind the others.

            “Yes,” Warren said. “One idea came to mind while I was waiting for my wolf to bring you down. Elder’s assignment to the Socrates Corps was recent and sudden. The record of it should still be near the top of the piles of paper that the flunkies handle. Even if those papers don’t have the real reason that he came here, they have to say something. We can do worse than to try and find those papers.”

            Draco clenched his teeth instead of his hands this time. Harry knew what he wanted to say: that he wanted to locate Elder, and not words about Elder. That he wouldn’t feel secure until he knew who Elder was working for and whether Draco himself, or someone else, was under threat.

            “Fine,” he said at last. “But won’t looking for the paper in and of itself seem suspicious?”

            Jenkins and Warren smiled at each other, and Jenkins laid her wand against her face and closed her eyes. She began to whisper charms, which Warren echoed in a rustling voice that made Harry raise his eyebrows at her. Neither of the two appeared to notice.

            But Harry really noticed, and he knew Draco did, too, as Jenkins’s face began to change.

            It wasn’t a glamour, and it wasn’t Transfiguration. It was more as if Jenkins reached out and reshaped shadow and light and a bunch of other things that Harry hadn’t even really noticed were in the air of the room, and then draped them over her face in a new configuration. When she took her wand away again, it was a new person that stood there. Harry knew he wouldn’t have suspected that it was Jenkins even if someone told him. There was simply too much darkness in her hair, too much gentleness in the way she stood. She looked like someone who had been trained as a dancer.

            Harry looked into her eyes and tried to see Jenkins that way, tried to remember the Auror who was good at Dark magic and had a leopard as a Patronus and a mind locked to being taken over by her flaw. There was nothing there. He found belief sliding off his mind like rain off a window, and had to shake his head sharply to remember that this was Jenkins at all.

            “Where did you learn that spell?” Draco asked, in an oddly strangled voice. Harry glanced at him and found that he was staring at Jenkins with what Harry could only describe as a dreadful fascination. Harry moved nearer to him. Draco probably remembered a Dark spell like it from one of the books he’d read in his parents’ library, like the one he’d told Harry he’d found the soul-stealing spell in.

            “From someone who’s dead now,” Jenkins said, and nodded at Warren. “It can only be performed with a partner, anyway, so you might as well ask Thomasina where she learned it.”

            Warren gave them a serene smile, and said nothing. Harry shook his head. He didn’t see the point in asking further, not when it was clear that the disguise would prevent anyone from suspecting who was really asking about Elder. He stepped back and bowed to them a little. “Should we stay here?” he asked.

            “Yes,” Jenkins said. “I should go, and Thomasina should go with me to help recast the spell in case it shatters.” Harry opened his mouth to ask what that meant, but Jenkins had continued. “You can stay here and act like good little Socrates Aurors.”

            They slipped out of the room before Harry could argue. Draco still seemed frozen and staring. When the door shut, Harry turned to him.

            “Was that a spell you recognized?” he asked quietly.

            Draco nodded in silence. “I remember studying it along with things like the spell to rip a soul from a body,” he whispered. “I remember that it was said to be very hard to cast, and it literally won’t let someone else who wasn’t there when it was cast recognize the person. It baffles the mind the way that Occlumency shields do.”

            “Then that’s a good thing,” Harry said. “Isn’t it?”

            Draco shook his head. “I’m overtired,” he said. “I was thinking about the books in my parents’ library and how I was never going to see them again, and I started thinking that—maybe Elder was working for them. But he would never consent to cast Dark magic, like the kind that left that note stuck to the wall in hospital. So it has to be something else.”

            Harry stood quite still. He remembered the letter Draco had received from his parents, how it had threatened that Draco would be destroyed, and he thought of the kinds of spells Lucius and Narcissa would have access to. And he thought of Elder’s grudge against Draco, and the extreme coincidence that it was to have him suddenly assigned as Rudie’s new partner right when they were working a dangerous case.

            “Draco,” he whispered. “Maybe it’s not mental. Maybe—”

            Then the burning, blinding light of Elder’s flaw filled the office, and Harry was left to wish that he had reacted a little faster, a little earlier.

*

            delia cerrano: It’s kind of hard to have a private life in the midst of a chase case like this one.

            SP777: I hope this one was a little more relaxing? Until the end, anyway.
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A Reign of Silence