“We didn’t,” Igora agreed.
Felix turned around, rolling his eyes at her. “The man in the bedroom,” he said.
Phillips blinked. “Marwan Zivantus?”
“We are working the missing persons case for his daughter, Bertrice Zivantus.”
“And you think it’s possible the two cases are connected?” Phillips’ face scrunched in disbelief.
Stramitz raised her brow. “Rich Pureblood’s daughter goes missing and a week later he’s killed in—” she motioned obtusely “—an oddly bizarre and violent manner?”
“It’s probable the two incidents are related,” Felix offered and then walked away.
They headed back to the office, and Igora knew they needed to make sure the case stayed in their control. She barked out a list of things for Felix to finish, sent out her inquiries to the other DMLE offices, and requisitioned all the necessary supplies for a long haul stake out. When Archie Eversworn finished his shift, they’d be ready to find out what he was most definitely hiding.
Harry couldn’t believe it. Ron was going to kill him. He’d somehow managed to screw up his first ever assignment. Eight months, eight bloody months, completely wasted. As he walked back to Travertel, he allowed himself one small beacon of hope. Maybe he’d be able to salvage something. Maybe there was still a chance, another angle, another job—
The echoes of his conversation with Valentine made him cringe.
“They think it’s connected to something bigger,” the hotel manager whispered as they watched Investigators Zaha and Stramitz leave.
Harry blinked, unsure what he should or shouldn’t say. He was still questioning his decision to maintain his cover despite his instincts—internally screaming he needed to do something. But there was also a suspicion in his gut that told him that what happened in the penthouse had nothing to do with his case. There was also the scene from the fourteenth floor which still had him reeling. “Like…criminals?”
Valentine scrunched his face and gave a slight shake of his head. “No. Say…while you were in there, did you see any type of animal?”
“Animal?” To be honest, Harry wasn’t sure of anything that he saw. They walked to the employee locker room and stopped. “Like a dog?” Harry blurted. Then he remembered the kneazle. Before he could say anything, Valentine had raised his hand.
“No, not a dog.” Valentine studied Harry and then abruptly added, “Also, you’re fired.”
“What?” Harry burst. “Why?”
Valentine began walking back to his office, and Harry followed. “You’re just too involved in this,” the older man replied.
“I was just doing my job!” Harry said, trying not to raise his voice.
“That remains to be seen.” Valentine blinked back at him.
Harry’s mouth dropped. “You think I’m connected to it?”
Valentine smiled, “Absolutely not.”
“But you just said I was too involved in it!”
“You were too involved in the events of today, yes.”
“How can I be too involved if I was just doing my job?” Valentine simply stared back at him. Harry, desperate to see out his shift and try to find any intel from the Thursday night card games, pleaded, “Can I at least finish out the shift? You have no one to replace me.”
“No, it’s an instant termination.” Valentine shook his head and started to pry the porter’s jacket off of Harry’s shoulders. “Everyone is replaceable.”
Harry shook his head incredulously. “You literally said at my performance review that I was irreplaceable.”
Valentine motioned for Harry to take off his dress pants and said, “The you from then was irreplaceable, but the you from today is completely replaceable. See to it that you get your things and don’t set foot in here again. Thank you, Archer.”
Months of working there and Valentine couldn’t even be bothered to remember his name. Maybe Ron was right, Archie Eversworn was forgettable. After he’d changed back into his street clothes and gathered his personal items, Harry felt too dejected to say goodbye to anyone and immediately left.
He couldn’t bring himself to send word to Ron yet, so he meandered his way back to his flat in a downtrodden haze. Just as he started to think there might be hope, some way to fix the situation, he tripped over something and fell to the ground. A loud hiss echoed in his ear, and he caught the blur of a red kneazle before it hurried across the street to find refuge in an alcove.
He mildly recognized it as the same kneazle from earlier, but his gaze focused on the bloody page of the Prophet on the ground before him. It must have slipped out of his pocket when he fell. Harry turned it over and examined the print for the first time.
New Players Called Up for Quidditch National Team—Barton Hunterpot has named the provisional squad for the next series of friendlies against Ireland, Croatia, and Pakistan. New names among the players featured are Heidi McTavinton, Bart Martin, and Ginevra Weasley.
He smiled. Well that was something. He shoved the paper back in his pocket and went home. At least something went right for someone today, he thought as he entered the side entrance of The Laughing Fox.
Harry took slow steps up to his flat and paused in front of the door as the dulcet tones of Alwyn and the Briarclucks drifted over from Umphrey’s flat. Something about the depressing melody of “You Cracked My Cauldron and Now We’re Done” brought Harry’s spirits crashing back down again.
How could he have let this happen? He’d had one job and messed everything up. He let Ron down, and Robards, and missed the chance to prove he was more than just the Boy Who Lived Twice. He was capable. He just needed to figure something out. Maybe there was a way to infiltrate the potions ring from the inside, if only he hadn’t lost access to the hotel. Harry kicked the door frame. He shook his head, sighed, and opened his door.
He walked into his flat and marched to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. Harry didn’t realize all the lights were on until he’d grabbed the kettle and turned to the sink. He started to glance around and then heard a bang from the other side of the studio, turning just in time to see a figure in the window ground his feet on the floor and stand straight.
Before Harry could put the kettle down to grab his wand, the blond figure had disarmed him.
“You,” Harry breathed. He took in the lithe frame of Draco Malfoy dressed in head to toe black robes.
“Hello,” Malfoy said, staring at Harry. His face revealed absolutely nothing. There was no trace of exertion or discomfort after having, apparently, climbed the building and crawled through the window. Grey eyes fell to the kettle in Harry’s hand. “Are you making tea?” Malfoy snidely commented.
Harry went for a knife, but Malfoy lunged across the room faster than he’d anticipated and whacked it out his hand. They stood close for a moment before Harry took a step back and ran into the counter. With his arms still raised in a defensive stance, he asked, “How did you get in here?”
Malfoy blinked. “The window. Obviously.” He pointed to the tea kettle. “Will you make tea or shall I?”
Harry frowned. Then he realized Malfoy was breaking into Archie’s flat. Malfoy had no idea he was talking to Harry Potter. “I don’t make it a habit of inviting intruders to sit and stay for tea.”
“You think I’m intruding?” Malfoy almost sneered, but it actually looked like half a smile. He held Harry’s gaze for longer than was comfortable and then peered around the flat. “It looks as if you might need some intrusion in your life.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Harry said, suddenly unsure if he was more incensed at the slight against him or that Malfoy was expertly distracting Harry from the fact that he’d been caught breaking in. Harry looked around and reminded himself that Malfoy didn’t know who he was.
Malfoy strolled over to the couch and sat down with a graceful fluidity. He leaned back and stared at his nails. “You’ve had a sudden brush with the strange and extraordinary, haven’t you?”
Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy. “A strange burglar in my flat, yes.”
“A series of events have unfolded, all quite odd and seemingly unconnected, but similar in that they were peculiar or unexplainable?” Harry crossed his arms. Malfoy continued, “You have had quite a boring time as of late, unsatisfactory, monotonous, no success to speak of—at work or in the bedroom—but then today something changed. Suddenly there is a swirl of bizarre activity surrounding you.”
For a second, Harry couldn’t breathe. He thought of the lift ride and seeing some version of himself down the hall arguing with an unknown figure. His memory flashed to the scene at the penthouse. Then he shook his head and rolled his eyes. Malfoy was just deflecting, and he was most definitely up to something. Harry replied, “The only strange thing that’s happened recently is you, Draco Malfoy, breaking into my flat like you own the place.”
“I’m sorry, have we met before?” Malfoy gazed back at Harry. His head tilted slightly to the left, causing a strand of hair to fall out of place near his temple. Harry stared at it until he realized he had to answer. Then he realized he’d been staring, shocked that he almost blown his cover.
“Out!” Harry yelled and thought accio wand. It flew into his hand and he raised it right at Malfoy.
“Alright. I see this is going to be more difficult than I anticipated.”
