zukuds.cc 
The house was dark; it took a few moments for Harry’s eyes to adjust. They didn’t focus in time to see a massive stack of newspapers directly in front of him. He was an inch from colliding with it when Malfoy pulled him sideways against his chest. Malfoy put his index finger over his lips and jerked his head toward the other side of the room.
Guinevere, the kneazle, sat on top of the endless piles of newspapers. She stared at them and they back at her for close to a minute. For a moment, Harry could swear the thing looked angry with him. Then, in a blur of red fluff, the animal lunged at Harry and dug her claws into his right upper leg.
“Silencio.” Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry just as he started to scream out in pain. Then he roughly grabbed Harry’s wrists when he attempted to swat the thing off of him. Malfoy whispered, “Let me take it,” and proceeded to wait an insufferable amount of time before carefully prying the claws off of Harry’s leg one by one. Then Malfoy lifted Guinevere and curled her into his arms.
Harry glared at the two of them. Enjoying yourself? he mouthed at Malfoy.
The other man replied with a satisfied smirk.
Rolling his eyes, Harry brushed passed them, careful not to touch the stacks of papers. Merlin, there had to be thousands of copies. He made for the door out of the room. No lights shone in the hall, and he motioned for Malfoy to follow. When Harry turned to see if Malfoy was close, his face practically collided with the kneazle. Harry sent Malfoy a glare, and mouthed What are you doing?
“She likes me,” Malfoy whispered and the thing nuzzled his chin.
Harry decided to ignore them until he found Bertrice. He crept down the hall, passing two closed doors, until he found an archway leading to a parlour. As soon as he glanced inside, he recognized the blue curtains at the end of the room. And sure enough, Bertrice sat half perched in a chair and in the window, gazing out. Harry was about to get her attention when Malfoy waved in his face and pointed to the opposite side of the room.
“Yes, I know what the others are saying.” It was the voice of the woman who’d answered the door the night before. Harry followed the sound and saw her bent over, head in the Floo. He practically tripped over himself in the doorway and fell into the room with a thud.
Harry froze as Bertrice turned to face him but then the woman in the Floo shouted, “Guinevere! Quit swatting the pendulum!” Bertrice glanced at the fireplace and then back at Harry, noticing Malfoy standing behind him. Harry motioned for her to move closer to him.
She slid off the chair and comfortably fell on all fours, making her way across the room to Harry with a predatory look on her face. Harry had a sinking feeling there was something very wrong with Bertrice Zivantus.
“You can’t possibly blame me for this! I voted against it!” the woman shrieked into the Floo.
“Get up,” Malfoy whispered and pulled Harry by his jumper. As soon as Harry was back on his feet, he rushed to Malfoy’s other side and back to the room full of newspapers. Malfoy took a few seconds to catch up. He returned to the room with the kneazle still in his arms and licked his lips. “Now, you can’t possibly tell me that wasn’t strange.”
Harry pursed his lips and glared. Malfoy was about to say something else but something pushed him off balance, sending him straight into a stack of papers almost as tall as him. There was a grunt and a hiss, and the papers went flying in all directions. When they’d settled, Harry saw Bertrice sitting in the doorway looking pleased.
“Guinevere!” the woman’s voice carried down the hall. Bertrice turned toward the sound. “Oh there you—” the woman appeared in the door behind Bertrice but stilled as soon as she noticed Harry. Recognition washed over her face and she shouted, “You!”
Harry flew forward, grabbed one of Malfoy’s arms, and pulled him toward to the backdoor. He was about to apparate both of them out when Malfoy shook off his grip and turned back to the house. Harry tried to shout NO but he was still under the Silence Charm and nothing came out. Self preservation was about to win until he saw a blond blur rushing back through the door. Harry apparated to the edge of the row of homes without a second thought.
He stood with his hands on his knees, panting, and jumped when the kneazle came flying from over the fence, landing next to his foot.
“Merlin!” Harry shouted, shocked that he actually made a sound. A moment or two passed before Malfoy flipped over the top of the fence in a graceful spectacle. Harry glared at him. “So, you’re just throwing animals around now?”
“Kneazles always land on their feet.” He smirked. “As do Malfoys.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Why’d you take the damn thing, anyway?” He found himself absentmindedly rubbing his right thigh where Guinevere’s claws had dug into him.
“Leverage, of course.”
Icarus saw the look of exasperated disapproval on the man’s face and briefly thought he’d never relate to another person more in his life. Whoever Archie Eversworn was, he definitely wasn’t who he led on to be. He managed to break a record by not trying to strangle Draco Malfoy. Though, admittedly, it was still early in the day, and Eversworn looked well and truly irritated.
“Target has acquired an animal,” McLaggen said.
Icarus was envious of Eversworn’s self control. “Yes, I see that.”
McLaggen turned to Icarus, frowning. “Are we going to bring him in? He’s just broken into that poor woman’s home and stolen her pet.”
“Did you even read the mission report?” Icarus took a few deep breaths, reminding himself he’d need the other man at some point when things inevitably escalated.
“I, uh,” McLaggen’s icy eyes fluttered for a moment and his jaw tensed. “I sifted through the files.”
Icarus had started gathering their things and taking down the deception wards. “Sifted?” He stopped. “You didn’t read about Pandora?”
“Of course I read about the damned box!” McLaggen, to his credit, was an action man through and through. Leave it to him to study the threats, all of the threats, and not the simple task before them.
“Right now, McLaggen, our only mission is to observe this afflicted target. The others—” Icarus paused and threw up a mental wall. He couldn’t let himself go down that line of thinking. The box had unleashed all manner of curses on those in the Ancient Chamber. Icarus would have nightmares if he thought about any of the others. Malfoy had been lucky. “The others aren’t in our periphery.”
And then, in an odd turn of events, McLaggen focused on Icarus with a pointed, serious stare that pinned him frozen. “Not yet, at least,” McLaggen replied and then kept dissembling their gear like nothing had happened. Icarus, on the other hand, stood motionless as a dreadful realization pushed to the front of his thoughts.
The other six Unspeakables who’d been cursed were still unaccounted for.
Garius Santi.
Elphie Bloomington.
Timo Tresden.
Howard Larson.
Marianne Ashwell.
Hermione Granger.
“No bloody way,” Felix said, his eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Igora turned back to the scene outside The Laughing Fox. A quartet of aurors were interviewing people on the street.
Igora turned to Weasley. “Still think your man is innocent?” Weasley paled. Igora smiled and approached one of the aurors, a stocky fellow she didn’t recognize who was interviewing a young, nervous woman. “I’m Igora Stramitz with Missing Persons,” she nodded in introduction. “We’re here for an interview. What exactly is going on?”
“Bastien Queensbury,” the man replied, his eyes skirted over her, then behind to Felix and Weasley. If he recognised the redhead, it didn’t show. Queensbury turned to the pub and said, “There’s been a death.”
“Who died?” Weasley stepped in and towered over Queensbury.
The shorter man considered him for a moment. “Garland Umphrey.” Weasley’s face relaxed with relief. Queensbury’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you looking for?”
Felix was about to answer, but Igora raised her hand to silence him. “Umphrey? Is that the old man in 2B?”
Queensbury nodded. “We’ve been watching him the last two months in relation to the theft and illegal resale of rare and dangerous charmed memorabilia.”
“Was his death related to your case?” Igora asked.
As if trying to decide whether he should divulge any more information, Queensbury shared a long look with Igora before ultimately giving his somewhat calculated reply. “We aren’t certain, but we are looking for the man who rents the flat across the hall.” He pulled out a notepad and read off the name, “Archie Eversworn.” Igora didn’t have to look at Weasley to know he was the one behind her who had a sharp intake of breath. Queensbury didn’t miss it either. “Our specialist believes the Stunning Spell that ultimately led to Umphrey’s death originated in Eversworn’s flat. The bartender from the pub said he heard them arguing yesterday morning. He’s now a person of interest.”
“Excellent,” Igora smiled.
Harry was halfway to the DMLE when Malfoy finally caught up to him.
“Eversworn,” Malfoy called. Harry glanced over his shoulder and scoffed when he saw that Malfoy was still cradling the damned kneazle in his arms.
