Harry's thoughts spun wildly, as the implications of the note tried and failed to find relevance with the little he already knew. They're hunting for things. Magical things. They know, or more likely suspect, where the things, or some of the things are. They're frustrated with stealth, Spider Glen has revealed their existence, if not their reasons...

  Harry cut off the death spiral of thought. There were connections he was not seeing. Until he could find those, he needed to press forward, not beat his head against what he did not know.

  Action beats reaction. Doing trumps waiting. Aloud, Harry said, "Draco, I need paper and quill. Do you still have your eagle owl?"

  "Aquilla? Yes. Getting a little long in the beak, but strong as ever."

  Harry nodded. "Good. Have you communicated with your mother recently?"

  Draco raised an eyebrow at the sudden segue, but answered. "Not... very recently. There's a lot of bad feeling there, mostly with Father. We see them on big occasions, birthdays and such. Mother visits by herself, fairly regularly."

  "Then she hasn't told you that she has been having problems as well?" Harry regarded Draco keenly. "Problems much like the ones you are experiencing?"

  "I... no. No," Draco stammered. "I haven't heard a word from her in weeks."

  "She was going to be my next interview, but plans are going to have to change. Write to her, you should hopefully be able to reach her alone. I don't think your father knows she has contacted the Ministry. We were going to meet at a teahouse she had chosen." Harry grimaced. "Ask her to come here instead. If you can think of some way to let her know that you have been having problems as well, that would be good. But as little detail as possible, in case somebody tries to ambush your owl."

  Draco smiled at that. "Aquilla can handle himself, Harry. He's bigger, faster, and stronger than almost anything in the air. And by that, I include most people on brooms."

  "Good," Harry said. "Are there doors to the outside behind those drapes?" He folded the paper he had been writing on frantically the whole time.

  When Draco nodded, Harry said, "Back in a moment."

  The doors debouched into a small courtyard, almost completely surrounded by the manor. Better and better, thought Harry. He scanned the trees looming over the walls and rooflines until he spotted what he had been almost positive he would find.

  Silently, he cast, Expecto Patronum. As wisps of light left his wand, he whispered, "Small, small," and held the wand tip over his left palm. The light coalesced into the shape of a stag, no taller than his thumb, stamping with one forefoot.

  Harry spoke quietly. "Up there, in my voice, 'I am Harry Potter, Head Auror and Acting Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Under my authority, your services are temporarily sequestered from the Ministry of Magic, until further notice. You will be assisting in an ongoing investigation, working directly for the Head Auror. Report to me immediately, to be read in.'"

  Harry raised his left hand, and the Patronus dissolved into a line of sparkling milky white light, darting upward. While he was waiting, he pulled a folder out of his dimensional pocket, and said, "M.O.M. File?"

  THIS FOLDER CONTAINS OFFICIAL MINISTRY OF MAGIC INFORMATION, AND MAY NOT BE RELEASED TO UNAUTHORISED PERSONNEL.

  "Kewl," Harry said. "I need you to read in an owl."

  OH. OH! SO, THAT LITTLE WEASEL WAS HAVING YOU FOLLOWED.

  "Yeah," said Harry. "And I hope for his sake that it was for the bullshite reason I suspected at first. The way this case is going is making me awful skittery."

  WITH HIS HISTORY? SURELY HE HAS MORE SENSE THAN THAT.

  "His history is what worries me about his capacity for good sense," Harry said grumpily.

  Just then, a quiet Whoo? came from the sky, and a large gray barn owl ghosted down to land on Harry's raised forearm. It seemed a little fidgety, and refused to meet Harry's eyes.

  "First off," Harry said firmly, "You are not in trouble. I know you were only following orders, even if they were damn-fool orders." The owl gave Harry a guilty look, and nodded slightly.

  "Well, now, you are working for me," Harry continued. "And only me. You are to have no contact with the M.O.M. Post Room or its Supervisor, until further notice. And, this is a hard one, so I can't even give you an idea of when 'further notice' will be. M.O.M. File, read him in."

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The formalities went quickly. Harry said, "Okay, we're going to be working together, so what's your name? Me saying, 'Hey, you!' all the time is undignified for both of us."

  Obediently, the owl started to raise his leg to display his ID, but M.O.M. File interjected.

  C'MON, HARRY, THAT'S BELISARIUS. EVERYBODY KNOWS HIM.

  "Really?" Harry said, sounding impressed. "You were the owl that outflew a conjured pack of ravens to get reinforcements at the Battle of the Ministry? Good work! Honored to meet you." He shook his head in admiration. "You must have been just an owlet back then."

  Belisarius tucked his beak into his chest feathers, looking embarrassed.

  Harry thought to himself, Why in the world does that idiot have an owl like this doing scut work? He shook it off.

  "First mission, then," Harry said seriously. The owl straightened up, like a soldier coming to Attention! "Take these orders to either Demelza Robins or Proudfoot, whichever you can approach most discretely. Key word there, okay, Belisarius?" Harry held up the note, which he had folded and rolled properly, then frowned. "Wait. I need a ribbon. Do I have a ribbon?"

  GOTCHA COVERED, HARRY.

  Harry looked down to find a bright purple length of ribbon extruding from one corner of M.O.M. File's folder. It came out about two handspans long, then slid back in and out, folding as it did.

  CATCH.

  Harry caught. He now had a ribbon tied to the perfect size to hold the note, plus another length to go around the owl's leg, tied in such a way that it could be tightened with one hand. Harry grinned. "M.O.M. File, I am continually amazed."

  To Belisaurius, he went on, "If they have follow-up orders, complete them to the best of your ability. Do not go back to the Post Room, in fact, avoid it like the plague. You are on detached duty, and you need to keep your head low. Hmm," Harry frowned, then brightened. "There's an owlery on the roof of 12 Grimmauld Place. It's well-made and sturdy, just hasn't been used in a few years. I'll get Kreacher to clean it up, and stock it for you. I can contact you there, and you can rest when you don't have other missions. Okay, everything clear?"

  Belisarius nodded intelligently, and began to spread his wings.

  Harry said, "Wait." He fished some Owl Nuts out, and gave them to Belisaurius. Harry explained, "Don't know when I'll see you again. Take these for the road, er, sky."

  Belisaurius took one in his beak, and made the other two vanish up under his feathers somehow. Halfway back in position, he froze, and looked up at Harry's beaming face.

  "Murtlap Munchies," Harry said proudly. "Only the best for my people!" Ginny had restocked their cache while across the pond on her latest trip.

  The owl had been about to bolt the treat down. He looked now like he was trying to savor it. With a deep nod, Belisarius took wing.

  Harry was still smiling. "I'm getting to love that expression on their feathery little faces."

  The smile gradually slid away. "M.O.M. File, do you know why he wasn't wearing his Distinguished Flying Award, First Class? It's just a charm to hang off his ID band, so it's not too heavy, right?"

  After a moment, the words emerged from the folder's cover.

  SOMEONE, NAMING NO NAMES, THINKS AWARDS AND PERSONAL ADORNMENTS LOOK 'UNPROFESSIONAL.'

  Harry's face hardened. "As time goes by, I am becoming less and less fond of that..."

  HARRY! LANGUAGE!

  ***

  As he turned back to the doors, he met Draco emerging with Aquilla. The huge bird gave Harry a brief, appraising glance. He then winged off with a burst of speed. His rate of travel had him lost in the distance in no time.

  Draco held the door for Harry to enter, stopping on the inside to reinforce some kind of protective charm. As Harry walked back to his seat, M.O.M. File flashed a discrete message on the cover of the folder.

  I NOTICE YOU DIDN'T OFFER HIM A TREAT.

  "Maybe later," Harry subvocalized, uneasily conjuring visions of fingers that 'droppeth as the gentle rain... upon the place beneath.' "Now, be nice, and I won't Close the File. I'm probably going to need your input at some point."

  ROGER. WILCO. The red lettering faded away, as Draco approached his seat.

  "What now?" he asked, settling into his chair.

  Harry marshalled his thoughts. "Well, I am going nowhere until my people are in place, at the very least. If your mother gets back to us soon enough, I'll conduct her interview as well."

  Draco's face assumed that curious closed look, again. He started to speak, but Harry held up a hand.

  "Draco, if you're using Occlumency on me, it's a waste of time, and you'll give yourself a headache. Both it and Legilimency are complete blind spots to me. Snape even tried to teach me Occlumency. I think it is because of his overly kind and gentle teaching methods, that I have such a block against learning mental powers."

  Draco snorted again, and relaxed slightly. "Well, how did you know what I was doing, then?"

  "The look on your face. It's not a dead giveaway, but I have seen that same look on Snape's face, when he had a secret to keep, or a lie to tell." And, Harry thought regretfully, on Dumbledore's face, when he was deciding how much of the truth he was going to share this time.

  Draco's face hardened. "Snape was the reason I had to learn Occlumency." Then he sighed. "And you're right about the headache as well, especially if I try to hold it too long."

  He looked at Harry. "What I was trying to hide is my unease over you interviewing my mother. She..."

  "She saved my life," Harry interrupted. Draco stopped short. "She never told you that, did she? Just as well, I can't tell you any more than that, either."

  Harry's gaze grew unfocused as he looked back over the years. "She did it for her own reasons, and mostly because she was worried about you. She stood there, in front of all the Death Eaters, wandless, and she lied to Riddle's ugly face." Harry's gaze sharpened, and he turned it on Draco. "Now, there is an Occlumens for you. You need not worry that I will give Narcissa Black Malfoy any sort of rough time. There is no liking between us, but respect? That, I will always have for her."