I don't know what I'll do with this, or even why this came to me. But it did, and I had to write it.
Originally, this was just about Harry, but after I saw that one picture in the pictures thread, I couldn't picture this without Draco also being involved.
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Draco Malfoy stalked through the maze of cubicles, clutching a folder in his hand. Without paying much attention, he ducked under a flock of interdepartmental memos that had been released from the nearby elevator, and stepped over someone's spilled coffee while avoiding an inexplicably animated chair that was galloping through the intersection. Mondays in the department were always hectic. After awhile, you just got used to it.
Opening one of the office doors at the end of the far hallway, he threw the folder down on the leftmost desk with a resounding slap, startling the man sitting there who had been reading a magazine.
Draco frowned. "Why the devil are you reading that upside down?"
The dark-haired, green-eyed man flicked down the top, or rather bottom, of the magazine, and glared balefully at his partner. "Because, Draco, upside down is how you are supposed to read the Quibbler."
The blonde rolled his eyes, and slapped his hand on the folder. "You're cute, Potter, but this is no time for jokes. We've got another incident. Five, this time."
Green eyes darkened, and the man closed the magazine, marking his place. "Five? At once? Christ. That's fifty five so far this month."
The man grabbed the folder and spun around, fishing a box of red pins out of his desk drawer. He flipped the folder open and compared it to the map that covered the far wall. It was an enormous map of the United Kingdom and associated isles, including all the ones that the Muggles didn't know about. Scattered across it were over a hundred red pins, interspersed seemingly at random.
Frowning slightly, he handed the folder back to his partner before straightening up and plucking five pins out of the box. "Actually, no. Hang on a tick. I want to try something." He carefully stuck the five pins in a zig-zag formation across the Scottish highlands, with the last skipping across the water and ending up on the coast of Wales.
"Is that about right?"
Draco frowned, and consulted the files. "Yes, actually. You've found something." It wasn't a question.
"While you were away, yes. I finally figured it out," the taller man said, fishing out his wand. With a lazy flick, a series of glowing red lines spiderwebbed across the map's surface, connecting each of the red pins together in a complicated pattern. "It was the dates that were off. None of it made any sense, but if you used arithmancy to sort it instead of normal math, suddenly the entire affair becomes a matching game. The location and the date combine to form another set in the series-"
"-so if you figure out the trend, you can predict where it will happen next," Draco finished, his eyes going wide. "I assume it would be too much to suppose that you've found the origin," he said dismissively, though his partner knew him well enough to know that he was still paying rapt attention to the map.
"Actually, I have," he said. Fishing a small butterfly knife out of his breast pocket, he twirled it open with his fingers and flicked his wrist, embedding it into the wall at a point just off the coast of Scotland. "There's our lovely, right there."
"It's about bloody time," Draco said, and eagerness creeping into his voice. "Bones has been riding my ass about solving this. When this many wizards go missing, even the Minister can't keep it totally covered for long."
This time, it was his partner's turn to roll his eyes. "Of course she's been riding your ass, Draco. You haven't the faintest how to treat a lady."
"Oh? And I suppose you do?"
"There's only one of us that can make an Amori Draught, Draco. I hear virgin blood is a real commodity these days."
"Bite me, Potter."
"Not while there are delicious morsels like Bones and Abbot about, I won't," the man said, getting up and stretching. He grabbed the weapon harness off of the coat rack and put it on. Opening a second drawer on his desk, he pulled out a revolver and spun the cylinder before slipping it into the harness and pocketing a box of ammunition. With another flick of his wrist, his wand was stored into it's wrist-holster, and he rolled his sleeves down over it as he put on his jacket. "Come on, let's go. I've already filled out the paperwork and everything."
"You still using that sorry excuse for a weapon? It's barbaric!"
"Kiss my ass, pureblood. Muggles don't need eight thousand curses to defend themselves. One bullet works just fine. They got it right the first time, and didn't need to invent seven thousand nine hundred and ninety nine more ways to do it."
Draco followed his partner out of the office and down the hall towards the elevator. It was a short stop from there to the Atrium and the Apparition points. "A wand is a more elegant weapon, for a more civilized age."
"Yeah? Well guess what, Draco? Times have changed."
"Are we really going without backup?" he asked, his voice a mask of indifference.
"Yeah. The Director didn't think we needed it, but she's got five Hit Wizards on standby, just in case we have to put in the call. What's the matter? Getting scared?"
The pureblood shook his head as his partner punched the elevator button. "No. Just a bad feeling. Where the hell are we going, anyway? I didn't see anything on that spot on the map."
Harry Potter slipped his butterfly knife back into his breast pocket, and the elevator doors opened with a ding.
"It's a town called Innsmouth."
Originally, this was just about Harry, but after I saw that one picture in the pictures thread, I couldn't picture this without Draco also being involved.
====
Draco Malfoy stalked through the maze of cubicles, clutching a folder in his hand. Without paying much attention, he ducked under a flock of interdepartmental memos that had been released from the nearby elevator, and stepped over someone's spilled coffee while avoiding an inexplicably animated chair that was galloping through the intersection. Mondays in the department were always hectic. After awhile, you just got used to it.
Opening one of the office doors at the end of the far hallway, he threw the folder down on the leftmost desk with a resounding slap, startling the man sitting there who had been reading a magazine.
Draco frowned. "Why the devil are you reading that upside down?"
The dark-haired, green-eyed man flicked down the top, or rather bottom, of the magazine, and glared balefully at his partner. "Because, Draco, upside down is how you are supposed to read the Quibbler."
The blonde rolled his eyes, and slapped his hand on the folder. "You're cute, Potter, but this is no time for jokes. We've got another incident. Five, this time."
Green eyes darkened, and the man closed the magazine, marking his place. "Five? At once? Christ. That's fifty five so far this month."
The man grabbed the folder and spun around, fishing a box of red pins out of his desk drawer. He flipped the folder open and compared it to the map that covered the far wall. It was an enormous map of the United Kingdom and associated isles, including all the ones that the Muggles didn't know about. Scattered across it were over a hundred red pins, interspersed seemingly at random.
Frowning slightly, he handed the folder back to his partner before straightening up and plucking five pins out of the box. "Actually, no. Hang on a tick. I want to try something." He carefully stuck the five pins in a zig-zag formation across the Scottish highlands, with the last skipping across the water and ending up on the coast of Wales.
"Is that about right?"
Draco frowned, and consulted the files. "Yes, actually. You've found something." It wasn't a question.
"While you were away, yes. I finally figured it out," the taller man said, fishing out his wand. With a lazy flick, a series of glowing red lines spiderwebbed across the map's surface, connecting each of the red pins together in a complicated pattern. "It was the dates that were off. None of it made any sense, but if you used arithmancy to sort it instead of normal math, suddenly the entire affair becomes a matching game. The location and the date combine to form another set in the series-"
"-so if you figure out the trend, you can predict where it will happen next," Draco finished, his eyes going wide. "I assume it would be too much to suppose that you've found the origin," he said dismissively, though his partner knew him well enough to know that he was still paying rapt attention to the map.
"Actually, I have," he said. Fishing a small butterfly knife out of his breast pocket, he twirled it open with his fingers and flicked his wrist, embedding it into the wall at a point just off the coast of Scotland. "There's our lovely, right there."
"It's about bloody time," Draco said, and eagerness creeping into his voice. "Bones has been riding my ass about solving this. When this many wizards go missing, even the Minister can't keep it totally covered for long."
This time, it was his partner's turn to roll his eyes. "Of course she's been riding your ass, Draco. You haven't the faintest how to treat a lady."
"Oh? And I suppose you do?"
"There's only one of us that can make an Amori Draught, Draco. I hear virgin blood is a real commodity these days."
"Bite me, Potter."
"Not while there are delicious morsels like Bones and Abbot about, I won't," the man said, getting up and stretching. He grabbed the weapon harness off of the coat rack and put it on. Opening a second drawer on his desk, he pulled out a revolver and spun the cylinder before slipping it into the harness and pocketing a box of ammunition. With another flick of his wrist, his wand was stored into it's wrist-holster, and he rolled his sleeves down over it as he put on his jacket. "Come on, let's go. I've already filled out the paperwork and everything."
"You still using that sorry excuse for a weapon? It's barbaric!"
"Kiss my ass, pureblood. Muggles don't need eight thousand curses to defend themselves. One bullet works just fine. They got it right the first time, and didn't need to invent seven thousand nine hundred and ninety nine more ways to do it."
Draco followed his partner out of the office and down the hall towards the elevator. It was a short stop from there to the Atrium and the Apparition points. "A wand is a more elegant weapon, for a more civilized age."
"Yeah? Well guess what, Draco? Times have changed."
"Are we really going without backup?" he asked, his voice a mask of indifference.
"Yeah. The Director didn't think we needed it, but she's got five Hit Wizards on standby, just in case we have to put in the call. What's the matter? Getting scared?"
The pureblood shook his head as his partner punched the elevator button. "No. Just a bad feeling. Where the hell are we going, anyway? I didn't see anything on that spot on the map."
Harry Potter slipped his butterfly knife back into his breast pocket, and the elevator doors opened with a ding.
"It's a town called Innsmouth."
