Harry rested the back of his head against the cool stone wall and watched Cedric pace in the adjacent cell. Aside from being—well, cells—they weren't too uncomfortable. Dry, decently lit by floating candles, spotless—it didn't feel like they were used often, if ever. Beyond the thick steel bars, a cave-like passage curved off into the shadows. Wherever this was, it looked nothing like the Ministry.

"What the hell!" Cedric clutched the bars so hard his knuckles went white. "What the hell's going on?"

"Dunno," Harry said dully.

Cedric released an explosive breath and resumed pacing. "One moment you're talking to that Unspeakable, the next I wake up here"—he gestured at the brown gown that barely reached his knees—"as good as stripped naked!"

"Spare me the recap. I was there too." The coarse fabric chafed as he shifted his legs. His outfit matched Cedric's except for a smooth metal collar around his neck that he had nearly strangled himself with while trying to get it off.

"That's the thing, isn't it?" Cedric halted to glare at him. "Every time, every goddamn time something awful happens, you're involved. I'd bet my right arm this is no different."

He shrugged. "I mean, it could be your Quidditch groupies looking to have a wild orgy—"

"I can't believe you're joking about this! You're so bloody..." Groaning, Cedric pushed off the bars separating the cells, slumped against the wall, and slid to the floor. He sat silent for a minute, his head ducked and his face set in a scowl. "Sorry."

Harry grunted noncommittally.

"Look, I know it's not your fault. It's just..." Cedric raked a hand through his blond hair. "How can you be so calm about this?"

He met his gaze. "I'm not calm, I'm bloody pissed off. There's just no point in wasting energy. Whoever did this left us alive, meaning they want something from us. Until the mysterious fucker makes an appearance, there's nothing to do but wait."

"Wish I had your composure," Cedric said, shaking his head.

"Comes with experience," he quipped mirthlessly.

"You've been in worse situations, yeah?" Cedric said, perking up. "There must be something you can do."

"Mate, we've been over this." He shifted again; with only one layer of fabric separating him from the floor, his arse was freezing. The Unspeakable had even taken off their underwear, which had some unpleasant implications, to say the least. "I got nothing."

"Shit!" Cedric slammed his fists against the floor, then buried his face in his palms.

Harry watched a sputtering candle float by overhead as he tried once more to think of a way out. His brow furrowed. "I don't have anything," he said slowly. "But you do."

Lowering his palms, Cedric stared at him with bloodshot eyes. "What are you on about?"

"You're an Animagus." Harry sprang up and walked to the bars. Why hadn't he realized it sooner? "With a form powerful enough to level this entire place!"

A look of dismay came over Cedric's face. "Harry, I... I'm sorry." He looked away. "I can't."

"Of course you can, I've bloody seen you—"

"I tried! I really have, but..." Cedric shook his head frantically. "It's why I've been off my game lately. When I'm in the air, I feel more alive than ever. Everything's so intense: the sounds, the smells... I read the wind, I dodge Bludgers before I see them..."

He frowned. "That's good, though, right?"

"Oh, it's good alright—until I snap out of it and realize it wasn't me flying for the past five minutes." Cedric licked his lips. "The dragon, it's too powerful. Always lurking, waiting for its chance to take over. Never mind controlling it, I feel like I'd lose myself forever if I let it out again. I wish I never took that damned potion."

Harry stared at him incredulously. "Do you even realize how lucky you are to have that form?"

Cedric laughed hollowly. "Lucky, he says! You don't know what it's like. I get these dreams sometimes, where I am someone—something else. Something that only knows to tear and burn and devour. Every night, I go to sleep fearing I won't wake up as myself, that Cho..." He swallowed convulsively.

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered. Some people just didn't know how good they had it. "Alright. Alright, listen—don't worry about controlling it. Just transform, and I'll take care of the rest. We tracked you down halfway across the world once, and we'll do it again if need be. Trust me."

Cedric clenched his trembling hands and sent him a pleading look. "Don't ask this of me."

Gripping the bars, Harry leaned in to glare through the gap. "You asked for something we could do—well, here it is. Stop being a pansy and get us out of here, Diggory."

Cedric's mouth opened and closed as his face reddened. Nodding curtly, he closed his eyes. Harry proceeded to pace in his cell much as Cedric had. Now that they had a potential escape route, he couldn't sit still.

Cedric's breathing gradually evened out, but his eyelids kept twitching with nervous energy. Harry resisted the urge to speak on several occasions as he alternated between pacing and watching him.

After what felt like hours, Cedric groaned and slapped his cheeks. "I can't."

Harry sucked in air through his teeth. "You did it before."

Cedric threw his arms up. "It was a traumatic experience, alright? I couldn't look my wife in the eye for weeks!"

"You don't know shit about traumatic. Learning that your life is best represented by an object of universal revulsion is traumatic, shagging a dragon is... it's..." He gestured wildly. "It's metal as fuck!"

"Metal as fuck," Cedric repeated flatly.

"Well, yeah." He hesitated before grudgingly admitting, "You wouldn't believe how jealous I am."

Cedric shot to his feet. "Of what, being trapped inside an enormous killing machine? It's only sheer luck that no one died! All it would've taken was one Muggle looking at me the wrong way, making a little too much noise, and..." He looked down at his shaking hands. "Their deaths would've been on me."

"Oh, get over yourself! You'll never be able to transform if you're afraid of your other form." Harry raised his palm to stall Cedric's retort. "Because that's what it is, see? It's already a part of you, there's nothing to be—"

"Funny, that you'd lecture me on this," Cedric said, striding up to the bars. "The way your godfather tells it, you drank the potion too—"

"Did he blab about it?" Harry scowled. "That wanker, he promised—"

"Gentlemen, please. There's work to be done, and it will go a lot smoother if we all behave like civilized adults."

Harry's and Cedric's heads whipped toward the source of the voice. A stocky grey-robed figure stood outside the cells, and although there was only darkness where its face would be, Harry somehow knew it wore a sneer.

"The one responsible for your imprisonment, after all, is none other than yours truly," the Unspeakable continued, "so there is really no sense in bickering among yourselves."

"Who are you?" Cedric demanded, coming closer. "What do you want with us?"

The Unspeakable's cowl turned in his direction. "The one I want something from is Mr. Potter; we'll get down to the particulars in a moment. Your presence here is largely coincidental, Mr. Diggory."

"Neither of us has done anything to deserve being treated like this!" Cedric glanced at Harry. "At least I haven't, and if Harry did something, I'm sure he'll make amends. Let us go!"

"Come now, don't sell yourself short. Triwizard Champion. Demonslayer. England's up-and-coming star Seeker. There are plenty of reasons why those less fortunate than yourself would wish you ill." The Unspeakable chuckled. "Not that my motives have anything to do with extortion or sabotage, heavens forbid."

"Then why..." Scowling, Cedric shook his head. "Whoever you are, you won't get away with this! My teammates will have raised the alarm—not to mention, you kidnapped the most famous wizard in Britain—"

The Unspeakable reached a gloved hand into his sleeve. "Indoor voice, if you please. I do so dislike dramatics." The hand reemerged clutching a stubby wand.

A chill ran down Harry's spine. "Cedric."

"—the Aurors must be looking for us as we speak, you demented—"

The Unspeakable's wand jabbed forward. "Crucio."

Cedric's rant cut off as his voice rose into a scream. His body seized up, and he slumped over and thrashed on the ground.

Harry lunged at the bars. "Stop! Stop it!"

Giving no indication of having heard him, the Unspeakable kept the curse up for several long seconds before pulling his wand aside and leaving Cedric twitching on the floor. "This does not bring me pleasure, I assure you. It's only that pain tends to drive the point home the fastest. Have I made myself clear?"

Cedric groaned feebly, his eyes narrowing at his tormentor.

"Cedric," Harry hissed.

"Well, Mr. Diggory?"

"Yes," Cedric spat.

The Unspeakable clapped his hands. "Jolly good! Please try to remember that before you speak out of turn." He faced Harry. "You've been awfully quiet, Mr. Potter. No threats to issue? No pleading, no wisecracks? Knowing what I know about you, I admit this is not what I expected."

"You have me at a disadvantage," Harry said, trying to steady his voice.

"Perils of being a national figure," the Unspeakable said. "I intend to keep my identity secret, I'm afraid."

He stared into the darkness under the cowl before sighing. "How are you keeping my phoenix away?"

The Unspeakable tilted his head. "Out of all things you could ask me, that is the first?"

He shrugged. "You wouldn't say that if you knew what a pain in the arse she can be. I'd pay dearly for a chance to have some peace and quiet on occasion."

"What an unusual attitude toward a phoenix... To answer your question, Mr. Potter, this is the work of an obscure ward hidden away in our archives." The Unspeakable spread his arms. "You're welcome to it after you do me a favor."

So Cedric had been right, not that it came as a surprise. "Not so fast. Is Su involved, or was that a lie?"

"Mind your tone, Mr. Potter." The Unspeakable tapped his wand against his glove. "Miss Li is entirely oblivious to the situation. For all I know, she is wondering right now whether her beau ditched her for a pretty starlet."

He frowned but didn't rise to the bait. "Alright, let's hear it. What's the favor?"

"Nothing too strenuous for one of your talents, I assure you." Was it just Harry's imagination, or was there a note of bitterness in the nondescript voice? "I need you to summon a demon and bind it to my will."

Harry's jaw sagged. "A demon. You want me to summon a demon." He barked a laugh. "Are you out of your bloody mind? Weren't you there the last time?"

"It's precisely because I was there that we're talking now," the Unspeakable said. "For decades, I've been gathering knowledge grain by grain, ever so careful not to overstep any boundaries. Perhaps my ambition would have died with me, had I not witnessed your feat. A singular confluence of chance, circumstance, and utter lunacy that it was, you achieved something I hardly dared to dream about."

Yep, definitely bitterness. "Fucking hell, it's not a competition! I'm not for censoring magic, but some things are best left alone." He rubbed his left wrist. "You can't reason with them, and you certainly can't control them. Whatever world domination fantasy you're entertaining will end with you as demon chow."

"You think me a storybook villain, whereas I'm simply... raging against the dying of the light, as it were." The cowl dipped as the person behind stared at his hands. "Every morning it gets harder to rise from bed. Mind's not what it used to be. Eyesight's failing. The obscuring uniform is a blessing; I can't stand to look at myself in the mirror these days."

Harry's eyebrows rose higher and higher as the Unspeakable ranted. "What are you on about?"

"Age. I don't expect you to understand; not now, and perhaps never." The Unspeakable produced a sheaf of parchment and lifted it to his cowl. "Mediwizard Finch performing emergency treatment on Harry Potter following the Broken Armageddon event. Intestinal perforations from penetrating trauma. Right-hand D2 amputated at distal phalanx, D3 at proximal phalanx, D4 at middle phalanx. Retrieval impossible."

"Phalanx?" Harry mouthed.

"Finger bones," Cedric said weakly. "Keepers break 'em all the time."

The Unspeakable flipped to the next parchment. "Fennec's report from Russia. H.P. lost a hand in combat against Lilith-class, target eliminated... Pithy as always." Rolling up the sheaf, he straightened up. "You've developed a habit of losing body parts—yet mere months later, here you stand, hale and whole. I don't know what price you paid or how you ended up fighting your benefactor, but the result is evident to anyone who bothers to look."

Harry sputtered. "You think—you seriously think I made a deal with it? That's ludicrous!"

The Unspeakable wagged the sheaf at him. "If not a deal, then perhaps you simply stole its regenerative powers. How else would you explain your miraculous restoration?"

He looked down at his palms. "This... it's nothing but an accident. A leftover from Voldemort's freaky blood ritual that I don't understand and have no desire to."

"You don't expect me to believe that now, do you?" the Unspeakable said in a tone one would use to admonish an unruly child. "Failed rituals invariably cause disfigurement or death from the backlash. The odds of a positive outcome arising by sheer chance aren't worth considering."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. The questionably legal books in Grimmauld Place's library said the same thing. "But it's true," he whinged.

The Unspeakable sighed and deposited the parchments into his pocket. "So you would enjoy your undeserved gifts while denying them to others. Truth be told, I never expected you to cooperate without further motivation, but one has to try. Remember, it was you who forced my hand." In an eyeblink, he thrust his wand through the bars. "Crucio."

Cedric, who had recovered enough to sit up, collapsed on his back as an agonizing scream tore from his throat.

"Bastard!" Harry slammed against the bars and stuck his arm through, but came short of reaching the grey-robe. "Let him off! It's me you want!"

Cedric's scream became a gurgle as his torment ceased. The darkness under the Unspeakable's cowl swirled as the person hidden behind regarded Harry.

"Do we have an agreement, Mr. Potter?"

Harry gripped the bars tight and glowered. He remained silent a moment too long: another sinister jet of red connected the Unspeakable's wand to Cedric's shivering form, and a hoarse cry rent the air.

"I'll do it!" Harry yelled. "Do you hear me? I'll do it, you crazy fuck!"

The Unspeakable maintained the spell for a second as if to spite him before yanking up his wand. "I do apologize for this, Mr. Diggory. It's just a matter of expediency."

"Fucking psycho," Harry said, breathing heavily. "Return my wand, and I'll show you a demon, you—"

"Now now, let's remain civil." The Unspeakable stuffed the wand up his sleeve. "Someone of your experience should know that Cruciatus exposure of that length does not cause lasting harm."

Harry swallowed back his retort. There wasn't a hint of anger in that bland voice, which was terrifying in itself. "I need my wand," he insisted. "I can't do it otherwise."

"But of course." The Unspeakable chuckled thinly at his surprise. "I couldn't possibly demand you to weave some of the most complex magic the modern age has seen without a wand. There's just a little demonstration to make before we get to that. You've wondered about the purpose of the device around your neck, surely?"

Blinking, Harry touched his fingertips to the cool metal. The Unspeakable retrieved another silvery circlet from his robes and tossed it carelessly to the ground. Making sure he had Harry's attention, he extended his right hand and made a strange gesture.

There was a snick as razor-thin blades erupted from an inside groove of the circlet. Harry shuddered as he suppressed the urge to try and yank his collar off.

"If damaged severely enough, the device will activate. If you leave the perimeter I set, the device will activate. If spells are cast upon it, the device will activate." The Unspeakable paused. "Care to guess as to what will happen should I die or fall unconscious?"

Harry wrenched his gaze away from what was now a gleaming disc. "I'll no longer be the second tallest person in the room?"

"Jolly good! Masking your fear with humor; that's more along the lines of what your psychological profile suggested."

He glowered. If the bastard wasn't lying—and Harry wasn't keen on testing that—this complicated things. The collar might be vulnerable to Transfiguration, or vanishment, or freezing, or any number of things, but he wouldn't get more than one try.

"It has begun to sink in, I see," the Unspeakable said jovially. "Let us proceed. This is the sum of my research, as well as the scraps the Department reconstructed from your inconceivably successful attempt. Please make a swift study of the materials."

The Unspeakable produced an assorted stack of parchments and a familiar tome with a singed cover and deftly levitated everything through the bars. Harry glared at the shadowy cowl before snatching the stack from the air and sitting cross-legged on the floor.

He spread the parchments out. Most were notes written in a neat script of someone who had practiced penmanship for a long time. Fragments stood out to him as he skimmed them: names of historical figures, references to books, hypotheses on what runic system would be best suited to the task. There were sketches of magical circles, but even at first glance, he could tell they were rudimentary and incomplete.

The Unspeakable asked, "Does any of this ring a bell?"

Raising his gaze, Harry snorted. "You're kidding, right? Getting this far took you decades, you said so yourself. Give me some time."

"That is one thing we're in short supply of. How long is it going to take you to reproduce the ritual you carried out last year?"

He shook his head as he picked up the singed grimoire. "I don't know, weeks. Months, maybe." Cracking the code the author used was key—and that wasn't a matter of time but insight.

"You haven't been listening, Mr. Potter. Rude as Mr. Diggory was, he had a point—there must be Aurors scouring the country for you as we speak. We have no time to spare."

He threw his hands up. "Then we better pack up and call it a day. I'm not a miracle worker, pal."

He regretted his words the instant they left his mouth. As the Unspeakable drew his wand, he sprang to his feet and held up his hands.

"Alright, I get it—let's talk about this—"

An invisible force wrenched him forward and crushed him against the bars before his body was petrified from the neck down. Blinking the tears out of his eyes, he peered at the grey-robed figure through his askew glasses.

"You did it once," the Unspeakable said, pacing before him, "you can do it again. Isn't that right, Mr. Potter? I didn't want to use this, but... desperate times and all that." His gloved hand slid into his pocket and returned holding a vial of inky black liquid.

"What's... that?" Harry ground out through the bar jammed against his mouth.

"An attempt at improving the Memory Potion by our resident brewer. A most meticulous man; I went through great lengths to acquire a sample he would normally dispose of." The Unspeakable jiggled the vial, causing the liquid inside to stain the glass. "Rumor has it, the formula was inspired by your Potions-related mishap during your schooling. Alas, it is a failure: even a single drop, while providing near-perfect recall and increased mental acuity, causes delirium and coma shortly thereafter."

His eyes widened. "Don't," he pleaded. "Poisoning me won't do you any good."

"Since Broken Armageddon is the only category seven event in recent times, the Department spared no resources to reconstruct the chain of events. We have no direct proof, but our analysts speculate that you were the mastermind behind the ritual, and your cronies merely joined in powering it." The Unspeakable's cowl loomed inches from Harry's face, yet the darkness inside remained impenetrable. "Let's see if this jogs your memory."

Grunting with effort, Harry tried to push away, bend his neck, anything, but his body remained stiff as a board. He swiveled his eyes toward Cedric. "No pressure," he gasped out, "except if you don't, we'll fucking die."

The Unspeakable stuck a hand through the bars and yanked Harry's hair to tilt back his head. A wand jab wrenched his jaw open. He gurgled as a glass tube was shoved into his mouth and its viscous contents trickled down his throat.

The Unspeakable chucked the empty vial aside and freed Harry from the petrifaction. He sank to his knees, coughing. Nothing felt out of the ordinary save for a thick syrupy taste in his mouth and a warmth in his stomach.

"I have an antidote on me that I'll give you as soon as you do your part," the Unspeakable said. "It won't undo the deleterious effects, but it will prevent further damage. Given your constitution, you should survive the experience."

Cedric dragged himself to the bars between their cells and pulled up to his knees. "Hang in there. I'm trying, I swear."

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Cedric's pale, clammy face remained as stark in his mind as when he had looked at it through the steel bars. Steel melted at temperatures upward of 1,325 degrees Celsius depending on its makeup. The iron content made it difficult to Transfigure, requiring a firm double swish as per Emeric Switch's treatise on alloys. Heh, switching the prophecy for a Daydream Charm had been inspired. The female pirate on the package sure had a nice pair of—

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter!"

He opened his eyes, suddenly aware that a voice had been calling him for some time. His gaze passed over the parchments strewn on the floor, and he snorted at a line that jumped out at him. Stabilizing the anchors using Egyptian? "That's just daft."

"Mr. Potter, need I remind you—"

"Be quiet." His gaze darted around the floor for a minute, or perhaps an hour, until abruptly flicking to the grey-robe. "Today is still Wednesday?"

"Yes," the Unspeakable said slowly. "But I don't see how that's—"

Harry giggled, but his mirth drained from him as quickly as it had come. Springing to his feet, he extended his hand. "My wand."

The Unspeakable's cowl dipped. "Have you finished studying the documents?"

"Rubbish, every last of them. Did you know the word 'rubbish' has no known origin? Weird, isn't it?"

Harry gazed off into space before shaking off his reverie and stepping up to the cell's door. He closed his eyes and reached out with his arcane senses. There were many enchantments there—durability, resistance to Transfiguration—but only one held the door closed. Calling on the feeling that came over him when he had successfully cast a wandless Aguamenti, he tried a simple Unlocking Charm.

The door clanged open. The Unspeakable froze, then fumbled for his wand and trained it on him. Heedless, Harry strolled out of his cell and right past the grey-robe.

"Bring Cedric," he said over his shoulder.

"How did... Dear me, that's fascinating. I knew I was right to count on you." Metal jangled behind him as Cedric's cell door unlocked. "Is Mr. Diggory's assistance truly necessary? I don't expect him to be very amenable."

"I need a sacrifice," Harry said, glancing back. "Feel free to take his place if you prefer."

Cedric choked out a hoarse protest, but it was quickly muted by a wave of the Unspeakable's wand. Ropes materialized out of nothingness to tie his arms and legs, and his bound body rose several feet into the air.

"If that's the role he is to play, I take it Mr. Diggory won't need the control of his limbs," the Unspeakable said genially.

"Yes, yes, well done." Harry tapped his foot, his gaze passing over Cedric's horror-stricken expression. "Where's my wand?"

"Just up ahead. Lead the way, Mr. Potter." The Unspeakable's wand swiveled from Cedric to Harry.

Harry strode into the cave without a backward glance, taking deep breaths as he did. Occlumency was about the only method to handle the cacophony of painfully vivid recollections flooding his mind.

Rounding a bend, he emerged into a vast rectangular chamber lit by more floating candles. A set of stairs carved into the stone wall led to a trapdoor in the high ceiling. Furniture was crammed into a corner—a parchment-strewn table, a closet, a bookshelf, even a bed—but most of the chamber was bare, glass-smooth floor.

Closing his eyes, Harry cast his awareness outside. The surroundings buzzed with residual magic, but it cut off right beyond the walls. Just how powerful this place's wards had to be to block all magic like that?

Approaching footsteps broke his fragile focus, and he turned to watch the Unspeakable levitate Cedric in.

"I've taken the liberty of preparing this chamber for you. It is about the size of the summoning site in the Forbidden Forest."

Harry cast a distracted look around. "It'll do."

Setting down the squirming Cedric, the Unspeakable walked up to a sturdy closet and tapped its doors, causing them to click and creak open. Harry's fingers itched at the sight of his belongings.

"Your wand," the Unspeakable said, sending the twelve inches of pine soaring into his hands. "Please refrain from reckless spellcasting; the device around your neck is highly sensitive."

The wand warmed his fingers as sparks spurted out its tip. He flicked it at the closet in a nonverbal Summoning Charm and frowned when nothing happened. "My amulet."

"This shoddy thing?" The Unspeakable looked into the closet, where a worn Horntail scale on a chain hung from a hook. "Not a speck of enchantment on it. Whatever would you need it for?"

"Personal superstition."

The Unspeakable shrugged. "So be it." The amulet floated toward him. "Anything else, Mr. Potter?"

He smiled mildly as he caught it and slung the chain over his head. "Ink."

The Unspeakable gestured at an inkwell on the table.

"Ritual ink," Harry clarified.

"You would perform the summoning directly from memory? Not that I doubt your ability, Mr. Potter, but it would greatly assuage my concerns if I could check your schematic before—"

"Time constraints," he said, motioning impatiently.

"Quite right, quite right. Well... if you're certain you recall all the details. The backlash resulting even from the slightest error could vaporize us."

Harry stared coolly at the darkness under the cowl. The Unspeakable cleared his throat and twirled his wand. From a wooden chest next to the wall marched out an ornate wax-sealed pot and a set of brushes of varying size.

A twitch of Harry's wand banished the brushes, and another redirected the pot toward him. With it in tow, he strolled into the middle of the chamber. The Unspeakable gabbed something, but he didn't bother listening. How did the motions go, again? Ah, yes.

The pot's lid popped off, and a stream of black liquid snaked out to form a growing sphere mid-air. Once all the ink was out, Harry banished the pot, took a deep breath, and flourished his wand like a conductor would a baton. The sphere roiled and spat gobs of ink at the ground, where they resolved into straight-lined runes. Spaced a little too far apart, but acceptable.

Under his guidance, a dense circle of runes gradually grew around him. Frequently he would pause and frown at his handiwork, close his eyes in remembrance, and make adjustments. Since the ink could not be wiped without scrapping the entire ritual, adjustments meant additional clusters to rectify the previous ones, and what started as concentric circles soon turned into a tangled web, some runes so tiny to fit in the gaps that they were barely legible.

He wiped his damp forehead, the coarse fabric of his sleeve not doing much good, then aimed his wand at his face before recalling the Unspeakable's warning. He had no desire to find out if Dr. Guillotin had been right about the painlessness of decapitation. Sighing, he tried to focus his swimming vision.

"Too many mismatches," he muttered, pivoting on the spot. "Time lag... Five years, four months, twenty-five days... Prime." He smiled at the stroke of good luck. "Distance... unknown. Likely within the country." Grimacing, he flicked his wand at the edge of the web to add three lines of runes extending outward. "Weight difference... unknown. Discrepancy in species? General symbolism the same, effect unpredictable..."

His wand snapped into motion, causing more ink to splash on the floor, then stilled at an awkward angle. Only a blob remained of the black sphere, and the tightly packed runes extended halfway to the walls. His eyes darted about, taking in the entire picture. He rubbed his nose as the odor of the ink threatened to make him sneeze.

"Remarkable." The Unspeakable inched toward the jet-black web and stooped. "I recognize elements of sacrifice and a call to something beyond our dimension, but I'm entirely unable to follow your train of thought. I daresay it would take our best experts months to make sense of all the iterations."

Harry pinched the fabric of his gown and fanned it back and forth. "Subpar, but functional. Shall I proceed?"

"Yes... yes, by all means." The Unspeakable took several steps back. "Goodness gracious, to witness such magic first-hand! It is regrettable that our partnership won't last beyond this, Mr. Potter. We could've accomplished great things together."

Not acknowledging the babbling fool, Harry pointed his wand at Cedric, who had been watching him from his position on the ground with wide eyes. As his bound body floated up, he struggled and moved his lips soundlessly. Harry levitated him into an irregular circle that had been left bare amid the crawling runes and undid the Silencing Charm.

"Snap out of it!" Cedric did a double-take at the sound of his own voice, then sent Harry an imploring look. "Harry, please, think of what you're doing. This isn't you!"

"Were you serious about regretting drinking Sirius's potion?" Harry tittered and scratched his eyebrow with the butt of his wand.

"I was," Cedric said warily. "You're not still mad about that, are you? Harry, I tried."

He gave it some thought. "A bit, maybe, but that's no longer relevant." A wiggle of his wand made the blob of ink that had been hovering mid-air splash across Cedric's chest in an 'X'.

Cedric ducked his head and stared. "What is this?"

"Gebo. Gift, sacrifice, exchange." Harry cast a sweeping gaze over the web, then gestured at a cluster of squiggly runes by the edge near the Unspeakable. "Activate it."

The Unspeakable shuffled closer and crouched with a groan. "Laguz, I take it? A fairly standard sequence..." The obscuring cowl tilted to consider Harry. "Please keep the terms of our deal in mind, Mr. Potter. You're not to negotiate with the entity yourself. Should you double-cross me, even your regenerative powers won't help you."

"The collar, yes." Harry wiped his forehead again; the temperature in the chamber seemed to be rising. "Get on with it, we're losing potency every second."

"Quite right, quite right," the Unspeakable said without a hint of offense, and touched his stubby wand to the outermost rune.

A sharp light spread through the runes like fire through gunpowder as the ash of wand-quality wood within the ink flared. Harry swiveled his head to watch the clusters light up in a convoluted order. It was sloppier than he could've done given more time, but one had to adapt.

"Harry, please don't do this!" Cedric licked his lips nervously. "We haven't told anyone yet, but... Cho is expecting."

"Sacrificing a fetus in your stead would be unproductive," Harry muttered, silencing him with a wave of his wand.

The light suffused the farthest edges of the web and grew intense enough to illuminate every corner of the chamber. Dabbing the sweat off his nose, Harry grasped the Horntail scale hanging over his chest and plucked it off its chain.

He clenched his wand between his teeth so he could use both hands and struggled to break the scale in half. Then he crouched and banged it against the floor but couldn't get a solid grip on its smooth surface, and its edge sliced his palm. Straightening up, he stomped it with his heel to no avail.

"Mr. Potter?" said the Unspeakable.

Harry frowned. It had to be done bare-handed, yet he had more than his limbs at his disposal. He picked up the scale and wiped it on his gown. The human jaw could exert a respectable force for its size.

"This shouldn't hurt," he told the struggling Cedric. "Not for you."

Sticking the scale into his mouth, he took a deep breath and bit down. His left molars glanced off the adamantine material, and the edge maimed the inside of his cheek. Grimacing, he nudged the scale back and bit again. With a terrible crunch, something gave; pain stabbed through his jaw, and a coppery taste filled his mouth. He pulled out the stubbornly unbroken scale before spitting out blood and tooth shards.

"What are you doing?" The Unspeakable exclaimed, trying to stand.

"Don't let go!" Harry barked. "Thish ish a delicate prochedure."

Stuffing the scale back in, he trapped it between his right jaw and increased the pressure until his eyes watered. So much for the blasted thing growing brittle over the years. He raised his left hand and punched at his jaw with the heel of his palm, each impact sending agony lancing through his skull.

Crunch.

He must've fainted because the next thing he knew, he was on his knees. He blinked away his tears, but his surroundings remained hazy: steam was rising from the pulsing runes, turning to acrid smoke where the ink had evaporated. Drawing a breath, he choked on his blood and doubled over in a coughing fit, spraying out the contents of his mouth. Among the blood that splashed on the floor were sharp white slivers and a Sickle-sized obsidian oval.

Glowering, he fished the slick scale out of the puddle of blood and rose to his feet. A small distance ahead, Cedric spasmed on the floor as his eyes colored yellow and his pupils became slits.

"That'sh no longer necheshary," Harry chided, slinging a Stinging Hex at him.

Cedric yelped soundlessly and shook his head, his eyes fading to their usual blue. His betrayed expression barely registered with Harry, who was cramming the scale into his mouth. He nudged it around until his intact molars found purchase and bit down as hard as he could. His teary eyes flicked to the obscuring cowl of the Unspeakable—the bastard was yelling, but for the life of him, Harry couldn't understand what.

Lifting his hand to cradle his cheek, he redoubled his efforts. His eyes squeezed shut as tears ran down his cheeks. Pain was temporary. Showing that bastard up, now that was—

Crack.

His remaining teeth clashed so violently he nearly blacked out. He made a noise of triumph even as the razor-sharp halves of the scale mutilated his tongue. The last roar of a great beast echoed in his ears as every rune around blazed a blinding white, then abruptly died down, pungent smoke rising off the now inert web.

Resting his hands on his knees, he spat out the shards and straightened up with a moan. Cedric's eyelids fluttered as he raised his forehead off the floor. The Unspeakable pivoted this way and that as his gloved hands shook.

"I don't understand," the Unspeakable said helplessly. "Did you fail, Mr. Potter?"

Harry's lips stretched into a bloody grin. "The Eternal Warlock—ow—does not fail." His jaw hurt every time he moved it.

"The Eternal..." The Unspeakable shook his head. "Is the delirium setting in already, or are you just eager to part with your head? A twitch of my fingers, and the collar—"

"You mean this collar?" He touched the smooth metal, and the constriction around his neck disappeared. Smirking, he bared his throat.

The shadows under the Unspeakable's cowl seemed to freeze. He slowly turned to take in the web of burnt-out runes. "Oh... My word. I don't understand how, but... well played, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you." Harry aimed his quivering wand at his jaw to numb it and moaned in relief. A healing charm took care of the lacerations in his mouth.

"Yes, well played indeed," the Unspeakable mumbled, wringing his hands. "I could've never foreseen... Jolly good."

Without warning, the Unspeakable lashed out with a purple curse. Harry conjured a wandtip shield and swatted it aside before transitioning into a Confundus Charm. Multicolored flashes lit the chamber as they attacked and parried. A floating candle got in the way of a Lung-Rupturing Curse heading Harry's way, and shielding his eyes from the spray of wax with his sleeve, he retaliated blindly. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Cedric wriggling away from the line of fire.

The Unspeakable must've seen it too, because after blocking Harry's hex, he hurled a jet of angry orange at Cedric. Jabbing his wand, Harry banished him aside before the floor where he lay an instant earlier exploded in shrapnel.

Ignoring Cedric's pained cry, Harry went on a hard offensive. Even as he cast furiously, he materialized the collar in his left hand and threw it, bending with the momentum. His aim was far from perfect, but the Unspeakable still shielded, and the collar clanged off to the ground.

A green spiral crackled forth from Harry's wand and destroyed the shield in a cloud of sparks. The follow-up Disarming Charm connected with the Unspeakable's torso, and his wand sailed into Harry's outstretched hand.

They both went still. Breathing heavily, Harry took the captured wand into his malletspace and rubbed his forehead. Sweat stung his eyes, and he had to keep blinking away tears as he kept the Unspeakable in his sights.

"I'm getting old," the Unspeakable said ruefully. "Well, no matter. There's still one card left to play."

The Unspeakable reached into his robes. Harry flung off a Stunner, but a translucent amethyst barrier materialized in its path. The Unspeakable drew out a familiar metal cube and raised it in a silent mockery.

Harry's Shieldbreaker rammed into the barrier with no more effect than his Stunner had. He cast it once more, but the green spiral again dissipated leaving no mark.

The Unspeakable laughed. "Wasted effort. What you're looking at is no banal shield but a bubble dimension with its own laws. No outside force can harm me while it's active."

Scowling, Harry paced perpendicular to the amethyst cube and tried to punch through with force, melt it with acid, and Transfigure its surface to no effect. Something warm trickled down his upper lip, and he wiped absently with his sleeve, goggling when it came away red. Huh. He didn't recall hurting his nose.

The Unspeakable laughed again and produced a small greenish vial. "An antidote. I admit to being rather frustrated at the stunt you pulled, and as such, I'm not inclined to share. Not that I expect it would do you much good at this point."

A fan of flames erupted from Harry's wand and swallowed one side of the cube. He channeled the spell for a dozen seconds before yanking his wand aside. The amethyst barrier remained unblemished. He hadn't expected the mundane flames to burn something even hellfire could not, but the act of defiance made him feel slightly better.

"Yes, that's it!" the Unspeakable said. "Even knowing it is futile, you still have to try. The instinct to survive is common to all life, after all. With your death drawing closer, surely you can see how my motivations were perfectly natural?"

"Oh, shut up." Harry pinched his bleeding nose and winced as the breath he drew through his mouth stung his chipped teeth. Keeping an eye on the Unspeakable, he trudged over to Cedric. "Finite. Alright there?"

Cedric slung off the ropes and rose with a groan. "You mad bastard, I really thought you would—hey, easy there." He steadied Harry by the shoulder. "You don't look so good."

"I don't feel so good either." Lifting his hand, Harry stared as his fingers swelled and undulated. "Whoa, snakey."

"I think you need to sit down." Cedric helped Harry settle cross-legged on the ground. "Keep an eye on him while I try and find my wand."

Harry dipped his head in acknowledgment, then sniffled and wiped his nose. Ensconced in the cube, the Unspeakable prattled on, but Harry couldn't focus on the words. He settled for blowing him a raspberry, feeling like several seconds passed between him willing it and his muscles obeying.

Cedric returned and waved his wand over him. Some of Harry's aches retreated, and the smudged lenses of his glasses cleared, for all the good it did to his swimming vision.

"I'm no healer," Cedric said, his face pale and drawn. "Do we escape? Try to get him to give up the antidote? Speak to me, Harry."

"Don't dote on me," Harry drawled. "Anti-dooote."

"I'll try. Hang in there, mate." Cedric flourished his wand. "Expecto Patronum. Shit. Expecto Patronum!"

A translucent four-legged animal burst from his wand, scattering the silvery mist from his earlier attempt, and nuzzled his leg with its snout.

"Get help," Cedric said, shooing the badger. "Doesn't matter where, just go!"

The Patronus scuttled away through the air. Harry clapped, and his wand slipped from his fingers; fumbling for it, he stowed it away. Cedric sent him a worried glance and directed his wand at the amethyst cube.

The stone under it rippled like water and flowed away, creating a large bowl-shaped cavity, yet the cube remained suspended mid-air. Cedric's wand stilled, then moved again, shaping the liquefied stone into limbs the thickness of tree trunks that smashed at the translucent walls, drowning out the Unspeakable's laughter.

"It's not working!" Cedric's head swiveled to the trapdoor in the ceiling. "Should we—"

A ripping noise resounded, and a gust of wind scattered the floating candles. Tilting back his head, Harry shielded his eyes from the bright light pouring through an enormous tear in the ceiling. An instant later, three giant heads blocked the light, their faces hidden under shadowy cowls. It was as if wrathful gods were peering down at them in judgment. Harry whimpered and curled into a ball.

The heads drew back before a giant grey-robed figure leapt in through the tear feet-first. As if viewed through a distorted lens, it shrank as it plummeted until landing on the floor the size of a regular human. Harry rubbed his eyes, not sure if he was seeing things.

More figures dived in flutters of grey robes, aiming their wands down to land softly as if having stepped down a single stair. Murmurs filled the chamber as the Unspeakables spread out and waved their wands at the fractures that were spreading from the tear in the ceiling.

"...danger of spatial collapse..."

"...reinforce the expansion charms..."

"Harry!"

His head whipped toward a slight female figure running his way. Slumping on her knees, Su enveloped him in a hug, then drew back and pulled up her cowl. Her dark eyes peered at him with concern. He smiled to reassure her, but for some reason, it caused her to blanch.

"Finch!" she called over her shoulder.

The last of the dozen or so grey-robes to land in the chamber came over. Taking in Harry's state, he produced a wand and proceeded to poke him.

"Phalanx guy," Harry said. "Where's your spear?" He giggled loudly before moaning and clutching his jaw.

Finch tutted and pulled Harry's hand away before touching his wand to his jaw; the pain spiked briefly, then faded.

"Come on, Su, get it?" Harry pouted at her unamused look. "It's 'cause he treated my fingers—"

"I get it," she said. "What happened?"

He tilted his head as he considered the question. Where to even begin...

"Dental trauma with multiple root fractures," Finch muttered, "epistaxis, fever, impaired motor function... cause unclear..."

Su grasped Harry's hand. "Focus. What did she do to you?" At Harry's perplexed look, she gestured at the cube.

"Ma-made me drink..." Rather than the potion's name, a list of ingredients floated up in his mind. "Jobberknoll feathers, stewed Mandrake, powdered sage, snowdrop..."

Su's brow furrowed. "Memory Potion?"

He nodded vigorously. "Expiri—expere—bad one."

Finch glanced at Su. "Don't tell me it was one of Doe's?" His wand traced shapes over Harry's head. "Potion toxicity would explain the symptoms... Merlin's beard, this level of concentration can't be right!"

Su looked at him with wide eyes before tapping at her ear. "Doe is needed on field," she said tightly. There was a moment of silence. "Then call him in."

Finch unclasped a wooden case from his belt and opened it to reveal a multitude of bottles and ingredients. Picking up a bezoar, he forced Harry's mouth open and unceremoniously banished it down his throat. Harry gulped reflexively, then coughed and glared.

"A bezoar is the best I can do," Finch said. "I'd need a sample of the original potion to brew a specialized antidote."

"Anti-dote." Harry giggled.

Cedric shuffled over, shadowed by another Unspeakable. "That lunatic had one." He pointed at the cube, now surrounded by a dozen grey-robes.

A skeletally thin Unspeakable standing cowl-to-cowl with the one inside was speaking. "You were sloppy, Magpie. Not only you accessed Potter's file with suspicious frequency, your requisitions made little sense given your line of work." His cowl turned fleetingly in Su's direction. "A clever young operative made the connection. We came to search your house, and as soon as a Patronus left the trunk, we had you."

"And yet you're late," Magpie said, lifting the metal cube. "Without the antidote, of which I possess the last remaining dose, Mr. Potter will perish within an hour—and no force can break this barrier, as you well know."

"I do," Croaker said.

"Then it appears we're at an impasse. Shall we negotiate?"

"You forget who you're speaking to." Croaker lifted an elaborate pocket watch on a golden chain. "Emergency access. Requesting Overseer presence."

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled as the air charged with electric tension. A rather vicious smile curved Su's lips.

"Acknowledged," said a cool female voice coming from everywhere at once. "State your cause."

"I petition to revoke Magpie's Level Nine privileges," Croaker said.

"Aye," chorused the Unspeakables, their voices ringing through the chamber.

"Aye," Su murmured as she pointed her wand at the suddenly agitated Magpie.

The watch in Croaker's hand clicked and whirred. "Consensus. Divesting unauthorized personnel of Unspeakable equipment."

A cry came from inside the barrier as Magpie's grey uniform burst into tatters, exposing her for a hunched, sallow-faced old woman in a drab sweater and slacks. She tossed the metal cube from one hand to another like a hot potato before dropping it and blowing on her palms; the barrier crumbled like glass.

Harry stared incredulously. A granny. He was kidnapped by a granny. This was beyond embarrassing.

Magpie blinked owlishly behind her thick-lensed spectacles. "Goodness, that would do it, I suppose." She now sounded gravelly and tired. "When was the last time Overseer was employed to strip someone of their status? The youngsters wouldn't even remember, I wager."

"Lancashire in the seventies," Croaker said, depositing the watch back into his pocket. "She gets cranky if invoked without good reason."

"Yes, yes... jolly good..." Magpie pivoted slowly as the ring of Unspeakables around her tightened. Then she abruptly raised her fist and brought it down to chuck a tiny vial at the floor.

The Unspeakables surrounding her moved, but Su was faster: she flicked her wand and pulled it back as if reeling in a fish, causing the vial to halt an inch above the ground and zoom her way.

Croaker turned to follow its path. "Nicely done, Fennec." Crimson light flashed to his side as Magpie collapsed from a Stunner.

Su caught the vial and presented it to Finch. The Mediwizard uncorked it, levitated a greenish droplet out of the whole, and waved his wand over it. Glowing tendrils emerged, coiling unto themselves and intertwining, most red in color. Harry applauded the show.

"This is a highly toxic substance by itself," Finch said. "Even if it is the antidote—of which I'm not certain—it could prove deadly in the wrong dosage."

Su raised a hand to her ear, listened for a few seconds, and looked up. "Doe's on the way."

Harry tilted his head so far back he felt dizzy. An enormous shadow loomed over the tear in the ceiling before a black-robed figure swooped into the chamber like a bird of prey. Alighting beside them without having cast a Cushioning Charm, Snape looked around with a sneer.

"Performing a ritual inside a trunk?" Disgust tinged his voice. "I should've known Potter would be involved in something this insane. What has he done to himself this time?"

"Experimental potion," Finch said. "It's wrecking his body."

"One of yours," Su said.

Snape looked down his beak-like nose at her. "Preposterous. I vanish every failed attempt, and any experiments are performed under the supervision of at least two others."

"Doe." Harry gaped at him, then broke into laughter. "Your codename's Doe." Snape's surly countenance only made him clutch his belly and laugh harder.

Snape's eyebrows rose. He snatched the vial from Finch's hand and inspected it before the light streaming from above. "This potion, what did it look like? Smell, taste, viscosity?"

Everyone turned to Harry, but he was still snickering uncontrollably.

"Uh, it was pitch-black," Cedric said. "She said it would make him remember."

Snape scowled as he brought the vial under his nose and sniffed. "And how much was Potter given?"

"About as much as you've got in there, Professor"—Cedric grimaced—"Mr. Snape."

"Indeed?" Snape stared grimly at Harry. "I'd ask how you are alive after what by all rights should've killed you twice over, but I've learned to temper my expectations when it comes to your demise, Potter." He thrust the vial at Su. "Make him drink this in its entirety."

Su accepted the vial and brought it to Harry's lips.

Finch raised a finger. "The bezoar—"

"You administered a bezoar?" Receiving a nod from the Mediwizard, Snape gestured impatiently. "Then what are you waiting for? Get it out!"

Bobbing his head, Finch jabbed his wand into the still-chuckling Harry's stomach and traced it up his breastbone.

Harry's eyes widened and he doubled over to spew up a slimy, foul-smelling bezoar. "Urk." He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Fuck you too."

The gunk vanished at a wave of Su's wand, and her cool hand stroked the back of his neck. "Drink," she said, bringing up the vial again.

He gulped down the bitter liquid, wincing as it washed over his broken teeth. The others fixed him with expectant stares.

"How are you feeling?" Finch asked.

"Uh... Stuff's spinnin'. Teeth ache." A flick of the Mediwizard's wand made the pain fade once more. Harry fanned himself with a hand, then tilted his head thoughtfully. "Feels a little cooler than before. It's nice."

Su took his hand in hers. "Try to..." She glanced helplessly at Snape.

"Not fall into a coma and die," Snape said dryly.

Su glared at him. "That sample should've never left your lab."

Snape's expression darkened. "Magpie dropped by a couple of months ago and drew me into a discussion about the effect of moon phases on the potency of fluxweed. She must've stolen it back then." He pursed his lips. "My bad."

"Holy shit." Harry gaped at Snape. "You apologized. You never apologize!"

"Contrary to what you may think, I'm perfectly capable of apologizing—when I truly am at fault, that is." Snape considered Harry sourly, then turned to Finch. "Treat him symptomatically from hereon. I wouldn't normally be optimistic, but knowing Potter, he'll no doubt be up and about and annoying us all within a week. Now excuse me, I should check in with Croaker."

Cedric eyed Snape's retreating back. "Blimey, so that's where he ended up. I would've never guessed..." He turned back to them three. "That means Harry's going to be okay, right?"

"The man knows his potions," Finch said. "If he says so, then it must be true, as unlikely as it would seem." Closing his case, he attached it to his belt and stood. "I'll be back shortly. Alert me immediately if Mr. Potter's condition changes."

Cedric exhaled and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "That's a relief. I owe you one, mate."

Su waited until Finch was out of earshot before addressing Cedric. "What happened?"

"I'm not so sure myself," Cedric said. "That Magpie bitch—excuse my language—told Harry to summon a demon. Wanted to make a pact with it. Thing is, it looked like Harry was playing along. He had this insane gleam in his eye..."

Su nodded knowingly.

"I thought he was going to sacrifice me, so I panicked. And then... it woke up inside me. The dragon." Cedric pulled a face. "I'm an Animagus, see. Theoretically."

Su's eyes widened, and she murmured, "Don't tell my colleagues."

"And then Harry did something." Cedric pointed at the burnt-out runes. "At first, I thought this was a sham, but... One moment the dragon was drowning me in its rage, struggling to get out, and the next, it just... went silent."

"That's because you're not an Animagus anymore," Harry crowed. "I killed the big scaly monster for you. Poof! No refunds. You said you didn't mind."

Cedric gaped at him. "You killed it? But how?"

"Law of Similarity." Harry jabbed his thumb at his chest. "Dragonslayer, remember? I just had to invoke the act retre—recro—"

"Retroactively?" Su said, her eyes darting toward the runes.

He snapped his fingers. "Yeah! Stupid big word."

"Blimey." Cedric rubbed his forehead. "If that's true—if you destroyed it—then good riddance. Sorry for doubting you, mate—I owe you even more than I thought. Not that I understand the first thing about how you did that."

Su stared at Harry. "That's exactly like your..."

He nodded smugly. "I recreated it. Mostly. Had to wing some bits. Arithmantic mismatches... Could've gone better." He laughed. "Could've gone worse, if I had weaker teeth."

She looked at him with astonishment before leaning in to whisper. "Does he have it?" She indicated Cedric with her eyes.

"Nope!" He wiggled his fingers. "I stole it off him. Not a perfect tra-transfer. Lots of space lost. Still."

"This sounds like a fascinating conversation," a dry voice said behind Harry. With nearly soundless steps, Croaker joined their group. "I would dearly like to hear what happened myself."

"Nah," Harry said, picking a fleck of dried blood off his lip. "Tired."

Croaker stiffened and turned to Cedric in a silent question.

Cedric glanced at Harry and jutted out his chin. "All I know is that one of your people abducted and nearly killed us."

"Your loyalty is commendable but misplaced, Mr. Diggory. We're not enemies." Croaker waited, then not getting a response, gestured at the Unspeakable standing behind Cedric. "If that's all you can tell us, then we have no further business. Your family must be worried; Toad will escort you out."

The one called Toad motioned toward the stairs by the chamber's wall, but Cedric crossed his arms and remained still despite the emotions warring on his face.

"It's okay," Su said.

Cedric looked at her in question, and when she nodded slightly, sighed and allowed himself to be ushered away. "I have to go back to Cho," he said apologetically over his shoulder, "but I'll check up on you as soon as I can."

Croaker contemplated Harry, who was goofily waving Cedric goodbye, then snorted and faced Su. "Fennec. What's the situation with Mr. Potter?"

Su rose, brushed off her robes, and stared up at his cowl. "The situation is that Harry almost died because—"

Croaker waved her down. "Don't get emotional on me; it doesn't suit you. Magpie is neutralized and will be dealt with accordingly. What I want to know is just what Mr. Potter has cooked up here. Report."

"Oi," Harry said to no effect.

"I refuse," Su said.

Croaker's head tilted back in surprise. "Recall your position, Unspeakable. You ought to be grateful that I chose to overlook your flaunting of the regulations—"

"Oi!" Harry jabbed his finger at the man. "Lay off her, you ash... arsh... jerk!"

"Spare me the chivalry," Croaker said impatiently, "and tell me what this is all about." He gestured at the web of runes.

"Well, since you insist." Grinning gleefully, Harry extended his hand. "Help me up?"

"Very well," Croaker grumbled.

The Unspeakable's parchment-like hand clasped his, and Harry's grin widened. The next instant, Croaker vanished and his grey robes slumped to the floor in a heap. Cackling, Harry fell back on his arse.

Su sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Shouldn't have done that."

"Why not? That'll teach him to be an ass. Heh, watch him flounder when I let him out."

Harry crawled a few yards on all fours before thrusting out his palm. A wrinkled, rail-thin man appeared before him, still bending at the waist to extend his hand. He swiveled on the spot, then stared in shock at his saggy nakedness.

Getting an unwelcome eyeful, Harry recoiled and clawed at his face. "Oh god, my eyes!"

Su picked up Croaker's fallen robes and proffered them to him with her head tactfully turned aside. "Warned you."

Murmurs rippled through the scattered Unspeakables as more and more of them turned and stared. Croaker's gaunt face reddened as he yanked his robes out of Su's grip and draped them on.

"Potter!" he barked. "What did you do?"

Harry cackled and reached for him.

Croaker lurched back, nearly tripping over his feet. "Restrain him!"

To their credit, the Unspeakables immediately ceased gawking and pointed their wands at Harry. Su stepped in front of him and raised her own.

"Fennec?" said one of her colleagues.

"He's drugged." Su glared at Croaker, who was buttoning up his uniform.

"Belay that order," Croaker said irately. He raised his cowl to his balding pate, then grimaced and left it down. "Keep documenting the ritual, I'll... deal with Potter."

Su didn't drop her guard until her colleagues returned to work. Even then, she kept her wand bared as Croaker approached with a dour expression on his face. Harry was amused to see that the Unspeakable gave him a wide berth and opted to put Su between them.

"I apologize," Croaker said, looking like it pained him to say it. "Not only it is unreasonable of me to get angry at someone not in their right mind, it was our former colleague who put you in this state."

"That's... that's right," Harry said, surprised. "It is your fault!"

Scowling in his general direction, Croaker adjusted his collar. "Yes, that's what I just said." He faced Su. "I'll excuse your insubordination this once. Given your personal involvement with the subject, it would be best if you distance yourself from any future cases—"

"Unnecessary," Su said.

Croaker's hand froze by his lapels. "I beg your pardon?"

She produced a badge that Harry couldn't seem to focus his gaze on and extended it. "I quit."

Croaker appeared even more gobsmacked than when he had found himself starkers. "You don't mean it, Fennec. This isn't like you."

She held his gaze impassively. "It's Li."

Croaker's scowl returned. "Don't let sentimentality get in the way of a successful career! Few candidates ever get fast-tracked into the Department of Mysteries straight out of Hogwarts, and you would waste the opportunity you were given?"

Her eyes narrowed. "If I'm to stay, I want his file expunged."

Croaker sputtered. "Don't you start giving me conditions—"

"You lot have a file on me?" Harry piped up.

"Of course we do," Croaker said irritably. "We collect information on every aberration that could pose a major threat to our world."

He preened. "Understandable, carry on."

Su sent him a fondly exasperated look before squaring up to Croaker. "Magpie used it against him. There's no guarantee it won't happen again."

"Our security protocols will be reviewed," Croaker said. "Don't act rashly, Fennec. Let's talk about this once you've calmed down, and you'll see that I'm right."

She drew a shuddering breath and lowered her gaze. Just as Croaker nodded in a self-satisfied manner, she tilted her head to the side and said timidly, "Overseer?"

The everywhere-voice sounded a tad miffed as it said, "State your cause."

"No," Croaker whispered, clasping a hand over his pocket, "don't do this."

She swallowed. "I resign. Effective immediately."

"Acknowledged," the voice said. "Activating the non-disclosure agreement. Your personal belongings will be delivered by owl."

Su gasped softly as her uniform burst apart, leaving her in a button-down shirt and a pencil skirt. Most Unspeakables stopped whatever they were doing and stared.

Croaker gaped, then shook his head bitterly. "A bright, diligent witch like yourself would've quickly risen through the ranks. In just a few decades, you could've been working alongside our best to unravel the mysteries of magic... Yet you throw that away in a fit of childish obstinacy." Shadows hid his gaunt face he pulled up his cowl. "Good day, Miss Li. I doubt we'll see each other face to face again."

Su inclined her head. "It was good working with you."

Croaker hovered in place as if about to speak, then nodded curtly and strode off. "Back to work," he barked at his underlings. "I want every inch of this schematic copied down."

Su watched her former colleagues scurry about, then sighed and faced Harry, who was sitting on the floor and admiring her stockinged legs from his fortunate vantage point.

Sniffling, he wiped his bleeding nose. "This, er, isn't what it looks like."

The corners of her mouth curved up. "I know." Kneeling before him, she produced a powder-blue handkerchief and dabbed his upper lip. Her eyes looked a little misty.

"Gee, um." He swallowed. "You didn't have to do this for me."

She met his gaze intensely. "My reports were in your file too."

"Don't blame yourself," he said. "You couldn't have known that crazy biddy would go rogue."

She pursed her lips and looked away. It was a while before she spoke, and when she did, her voice was wistful. "To me growing up, the Unspeakables were heroes protecting the world from the shadows. Brave and incorruptible. Yet after I was recruited, I saw petty rivalries, jealousy, gossip... Things not that different from Hogwarts. And now..."

Harry shrugged. That a governmental institution would be corrupt seemed par for the course to him.

"Naive of me, I suppose," she said, casting him a glance.

"Just a bit," he said without thinking.

Making a noise between a laugh and a sob, she slapped his chest. Her palm stayed, clutching his threadbare gown. He put his arms around her, hoping he didn't reek too badly, and she rested her forehead against his chest.

Lost in thought, Harry caressed her hair. His gaze landed on a pair of Unspeakables who were dragging the insensate Magpie up the stairs, and he flashed them a send-off salute.

"They're pretty interested in me, huh? Magpie even knew about the... Potions incident. My file must be massive." He grinned. "Is it the largest they've got?"

Su made a strangled noise. He looked at her with concern, but when she drew away, there was an impish glint in her dark eyes. "Not anymore."

His eyebrows rose. "Alright, what did you do?"

Her lips twitched, and she looked around before whispering into his ear, "Ever heard of the Babylonian Bookworm?"

His eyes widened. "You didn't."

She nodded, looking very pleased with herself.

"I don't believe it! Little Miss perfect track record, sabotaging government files?"

She shushed him and glanced over her shoulder cagily.

Harry offered her a sheepish smile. "Talk about burning bridges," he said in an undertone. "No way they'll be taking you back after something like this."

"I wasn't counting on it." She locked her eyes with his. "Not after this."

"Su..."

"Besides, my codename was lame," she continued airily.

"Aww, I thought it was adorable."

She gave him a flat look. "Precisely."

He chuckled, causing her to smile.

"And the uniforms," she said. "Not exactly flattering."

"A week ago I would've said they were pretty cool, but now I don't think I'll be able to look at another pair of grey robes without going for my wand." He ran his eyes up and down her smart outfit and wiped his nose. "This is definitely an improvement. I can't even look at you without getting a nosebleed."

She let out a surprised giggle, shook her head at him, and mopped his upper lip with her handkerchief.

Steps sounded behind them as Finch returned clutching a scroll and a length of rope. "Here's a referral to St. Mungo's and a Portkey straight to Admissions," he said, presenting them to Harry. "Doe and I agree that it would be prudent to place you under observation for the next few days, just in case. Regrowing the teeth will have to wait until tomorrow, I'm afraid—potion interactions are tricky business. Well. It's all written there."

Su slipped away from Harry reluctantly, and he accepted the scroll and the Portkey.

"One of us might drop by to get your side of the story once you're feeling better." Finch glanced at Su and coughed uncomfortably. "Fennec, the chief strongly suggested that you accompany Mr. Potter. This is no place for outsiders, you understand."

"I was going anyway," she said coldly.

Finch floundered. "Yes, well... The Portkey is set to activate in just about"—he glanced at his wristwatch—"four minutes. Excuse me, then."

Su frowned at his retreating back until Harry patted her hand comfortingly. Sighing, she rose to her feet and helped him up, then supported him as he lumbered outside the runic web.

An Unspeakable they passed lifted his head off a rune he was studying. "Watch it! You're smudging them!"

Harry flipped him the bird, and leaning on Su, staggered to the nearest wall. Slouching against it, he scowled at the sprawling schematic. Parts of it had been damaged during his duel with Magpie, parts were written in runes too tiny to make out once the ink had burned out, but large portions were still legible. Some Unspeakables crawled on their knees copying them onto parchment, while others walked alongside the edge snapping photos with bulky cameras whose flashes emitted puffs of smoke.

"You know," he mused, "I'm not at all enthused by this lot mucking about with my magic."

Su glanced at the center of the chamber. "You have no copy."

"Don't need it. This was a one-off thing." He stored away the referral, transferred the Portkey to his left hand, and materialized his wand in his right. "I'm wiping it."

She stared at him, then at the bustling Unspeakables, and worried her lip.

"Relax," he said out of the corner of his mouth. "We're not going to fight. Just wash it off and get out. How long till the Portkey activates, again?"

She took a deep breath and leaned back against the wall beside him. Lifting her hand, she checked the dainty watch resting on the underside of her wrist. "Two minutes."

"Perfect."

He slouched against the wall, the very image of exhaustion, as she periodically read off the time. With twenty seconds left, he straightened up and offered the rope in his left hand to Su. Her knuckles were white with tension as she grasped it, but no anxiety showed on her face.

He grinned in anticipation. "On three. One, two, three—"

"Aguamenti!" they exclaimed in unison.

Twin jets of water knocked the nearest Unspeakables off their feet and sent them skidding along the floor. Harry cackled as he directed his jet sideways to trip more grey-robes while Su focused on blasting the floor clean. Shields shimmered into existence, orders were shouted, and a hex splashed into the wall beside them—but then the Portkey whisked them off in a blur of color and noise.