Power Struggles

Chapter 4: The World of Espionage

"Try me," Draco said bluntly. Behind him, he heard Harry shift slightly against the wall. There was a silence. "Don't you trust me?"

Harry laughed - it was a harsh middle-aged laugh that didn't suit his twenty-eight years. "It's not a matter of trust." His voice was quiet.

"Well then, what is it a matter of?" Draco demanded. He was being intentionally belligerent. "National security?"

"Precisely. We exist to ensure the safety of the Wizarding World. Without us, our world would have been exposed to the Muggles a long time ago. We'd have been eradicated or, at best, locked up like animals. We are not the enemies of the Wizarding World. On the contrary, we are its best chance for survival."

"Did they make you memorise that or just brainwash you?" Draco sneered. "What happened to all the Muggle-loving sentiments I'm used to hearing from you sanctimonious Gryffindors?"

Harry sighed. "Malfoy, I'm not brainwashed. Nor do I hate Muggles. You wouldn't understand our work. It's too delicate."

"But who are you? Or what are you?"

"If I give you our name, would that help?"

"No," Draco admitted. "But it is a start. Are you really trying to tell me that you belong to some clandestine group that is secretly watching over us?" He paused. "And here I was thinking that the great Harry Potter was a simple Ministry worker when, in fact, he's a professional killer!"

There was no way Draco could have predicted Harry's reaction. With lightning fast reflexes, Harry's hand came around and now had a vice-like grip around his neck.

Draco found that he could no longer breathe.

"I am not a killer."

"So what are you trying to do to me then?" Draco wheezed, trying to struggle out of the iron grip.

The grip relaxed. "That was a warning."

Draco rubbed his throat with his left hand thoughtfully. The quickness of that reaction had surprised him. Why had Harry reacted so brutally and efficiently? Who was he working for? He barely contained the wince as he felt the Lupo dig further into his back.

"Our stop," Harry said.

Draco grimaced as he inched forward, making deliberately slow movements. He didn't want to accidentally bump into a Muggle.

"Walk into that corner," Harry said softly into his ear.

Together, they took measured synchronised steps towards the corner.

Draco stifled a small smile of nostalgia that threatened to appear on his face. This was beginning to remind him of his first time walking through a solid barrier at King's Cross Station.

It was quite an unusual feeling walking into that particular wall. There wasn't the normal feeling of going through a barrier, rather, Draco felt like all the atoms in his body were being rearranged.

"French design," Harry said shortly, seemingly reading Draco's mind. "They enjoy that feeling." He emerged from under the cloak, still pointing the gun at Draco, and after a slight pause, Draco also removed the cloak.

They had appeared in a long, narrow, low-ceilinged room, with a door at one end, and that had an extended conference table in its middle. Luc was sitting at the end of the table nearest to the door, regarding them through half-closed eyes. "Welcome, my British friends." He waved his wand slightly and the table filled with food. "We will discuss the deal while you experience our French hospitality." There was just the slightest emphasis on the word hospitality.

Draco sat down gingerly, three seats down from the French man. He eyed Harry's gun warily. Harry chose to stand.

Luc smiled lazily at Harry. "Why won't you sit down?"

Harry ignored him. "I trust you will uphold our deal."

"Of course, but first, I must insist that you eat." Luc smiled again.

"Oh Luc," Harry said sorrowfully. "Do you think so little of me? Do you really think that I would eat from the plate of a foreign agent?"

"I miscalculated." Luc's cat-like demeanour disappeared as he became brisk. "We get Draco Malfoy, and in return, your Weasley friends get the full protection of the Squad."

Harry shook his head and there was a spark of surprise in Luc's eyes. "I've changed my mind. I want the Weasleys to get full protection from the French diplomatic corps."

"Don't you trust us?" Luc was blunt.

"No."

"What is going to happen to me?" Draco burst out angrily. "Am I just going to be left in the protection of the Squad?"

"Why yes!" Harry gestured with the Lupo. "Do you have a problem with that arrangement?"

Draco fell silent. Guns, after all, do speak louder than words.

~~~~

The owl was perched on Hermione's windowsill for quite sometime before she noticed it. It was a while later before she realised that it wasn't simply going to drop the letter off but that it was waiting for something. The owl was a normal, nondescript barn owl that was merely sitting there preening its feathers. However, Hermione soon realised as she took the letter and slit it open, the letter it held was anything but normal.

With eyes widening, Hermione read the letter once and immediately her eyes flicked back to the beginning to read again.

Dear Mrs. Hermione Weasley,

It is our duty to inform you that you are currently in danger. You already know of this danger and we cannot elaborate further in this letter. Some of our people will be coming around shortly to escort you to a safehouse where you will be, as the name suggests, hopefully safe from most dangers. Your husband, Mr. Ronald Weasley, is being escorted there as you read this letter.

Rest assured that you have the full protection of the Squad.

The Director

The letter itself looked quite normal, written on unadorned cream parchment, but what it contained was nothing short of shocking. She had the full protection of the Squad?

If Hermione remembered correctly, the Squad was a notoriously brutal French spy agency that operated swiftly and silently. Since it was usually only known to the spook community, Hermione had only heard whispers about its far-reaching power and influence.

She felt her stomach flop like a flobberworm. Obviously it was no light matter they wanted to talk about. And what was the danger? Paling slightly, Hermione remembered the warning about the Certese Circle. Did Draco Malfoy put her in this much danger by simply telling her about that organisation? She hoped not.

Hermione jumped as she heard a sharp knock on her front door. Hesitating slightly, she held her wand in front of her body as she peered around her kitchen corner. She could just make out two shadowy figures outlined in the opaque glass. Walking up to the door, she opened the door slightly.

A man and a woman stood on her porch. Both were wearing Muggle clothes.

"How can I help you?" Hermione asked, knowing that her voice was quavering slightly.

"Mrs. Weasley," the woman said briskly, her English precise and proper. "I presume you have seen our letter by now. We are here to escort you to someplace safe."

"And how do I know you're who you say you are," asked Hermione suspiciously.

The man's lips curled up into a wry smile. "You mean you are not sure whether we are Certese? Well, if we were, you would be dead by now, Mrs. Weasley. We suggest very strongly that you trust us." The smile disappeared. "We would not like to use undue force."

Hermione gulped slightly. She had heard stories about people who didn't cooperate with the Squad and she didn't want to end up like them: missing. "Certainly!" She tried to smile but it came out twisted. "If you'd just wait a minute..."

"We would rather not." The man reached for the door and pulled it wide open but not before Hermione had tucked her wand up her sleeve, as a precaution. "After you, Mrs. Weasley." He indicated the pathway with a flourish of his hand.

As Hermione walked slowly down her front pathway towards the tinted Muggle car parked in the street, she realised something strange about the pair. Both spoke English perfectly (almost textbook English) with absolutely no trace of a French accent. Very unusual, she thought to herself, filing that information away.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Do not worry yourself, Mrs. Weasley. You will be safe."

It wasn't until Hermione was seated in the car that she realised that they had never answered her question.

~~~~

"What do you mean?" Harry's voice was deceptively quiet. It was the voice of a trained man, a professional, somebody who could never afford to lose his temper because of the consequences. But Luc could tell that Harry was furious, both as a professional and on another more personal level.

"The Squad has already dispatched a team to collect the Weasleys." Luc glanced at his watch. "I believe they will be arriving any minute now."

"I insist you transfer their protection to the diplomatic corps immediately when they arrive here. Or our deal is off."

Luc smiled amiably. "My dear Harry, you cannot begin to presume that I am so ignorant or forgetful. We made a magical pact; that cannot be broken lightly."

Harry's only response was a narrowing of his eyes.

As if on cue, the door next to them burst open and the Weasleys were pushed through it none-too-gently. The door closed behind them.

"For Merlin's sake, my wife is pregnant! You could be gentler!" Ron was exclaiming heatedly when he spotted Harry. His mouth dropped open. "Harry?"

"Hello," replied Harry, guardedly.

"What on earth are you doing here? What are we doing here? What is this place?" The string of questions erupted from Ron's mouth as he regarded his friend in shock.

"I'm sorry, Ron, I'm afraid I can't tell you. The letters you and Hermione were sent contain all we can tell you. You will be safe here." At these last words, Harry shot Luc a dirty look.

Luc gave a brief nod in return, stood up and held out a chair. "Will you not sit down, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked courteously.

There was a brief pause and then Hermione seated herself with a curt: "Thank you."

"But Harry!" Ron said angrily. "This type of stress is not good for Hermione. She should be home, relaxing. The danger is ridiculous anyway. Our home is perfectly safe; it's fitted with the latest Ministry security equipment!"

"Like the Minister's office was?" Harry said quietly. "You will be safer here."

"But...." Ron stopped. He had just spotted Draco. "What is he doing here?"

"He is helping us with his enquiries," Luc answered smoothly. "Won't you sit down, Mr. Weasley? We should talk." He clapped his hands sharply.

There was a small pop and a house elf appeared beside the table. It was wearing a small knitted tea cosy. Bowing, it asked: "What do Masters want?"

"I wish you to escort Mrs. Weasley to our drawing room. I am sure she will be more comfortable there. Then you should escort Mr. Malfoy...."

Harry interrupted him. "I will escort Malfoy to a suitable holding cell." He gestured with the gun. "Move."

"Blimey, Harry!" Ron had just spotted the weapon. "I never knew you were into those Muggle things. Isn't it kind of dangerous?"

Harry gave a tight laugh. "Yes, Ron, it is somewhat dangerous." Prodding Draco in the back, they exited the room.

Hermione looked at her husband and then she looked at Luc. "If you don't mind, I would like to remain." Her voice was quiet, but brooked no argument. At least, not to Luc.

Ron, apparently, thought differently. "But Hermione-love, I am sure what we are about to discuss will bore you anyway. Why don't you go to the drawing room like he suggested? I'll come to find you later."

With an angry gesture, Hermione pushed her chair back, making a loud scraping noise. "Since, you obviously know what is better for me, I will be in the drawing room then." She looked at the house elf and then knelt down to look at it eye-to-eye, "Would you like to show me where it is?"

It nodded fervently and with a knobbly hand, grabbed Hermione's own and dragged her away.

"Cheeky little bugger, that house elf," Ron commented when the door had closed behind them. "They aren't usually so impertinent."

Luc smiled, "I'm glad you noticed. They double as security guards." He held out his hand. "We have yet to be introduced. My name is Luc."

Ron took his hand and shook it. It was a politician's handshake, brisk and friendly. "As you seem to already know, I'm Ron Weasley. Now, can you tell me why we have been summoned here to... well, what looks like French holding house?"

Luc smiled faintly. "Mr. Weasley, do you not believe me? I have already told you everything in the letter you hold in your pocket."

"Damn right, I don't believe you!" Ron slammed his fist down on the table and glared at the other man. "Give me one reason why I should believe you?" He folded his arms and sat back in his chair, eyes flashing.

Luc skirted the question. "Mr. Weasley, do you believe that we mean to harm you? Do you believe that Harry means to harm you?"

Ron closed his eyes briefly. "I'm not sure what to believe any more," he said gruffly, "and please, call me Ron."

"Ron, we are here to help you. We are trying to stop the Certese from getting to you. Mr. Malfoy did not know how much danger he was putting you and your wife into when he told you about that organisation."

"But I can't just stay here!" Ron exclaimed. "I have my job at the Ministry! A responsibility!"

"Ah!" Luc smiled slightly. "I believe you are the one tipped to be the next Minister, if my sources within the British Ministry are correct. Tell me, Mr. Weasley, would you prefer that you stay alive to receive that position?"

"Of course I would - " Ron stopped abruptly. "How'd you know that? You mean to say you have spies in our Ministry? We have moles?"

An expression of surprise flitted over Luc's face. He had forgotten for a minute that he wasn't talking to somebody of his own calibre. The man sitting in front of him, despite his knowledge of politics and the state, was a novice when it came to espionage. Luc berated himself for letting his guard down. "Yes," he answered in a neutral tone, "and your British spies have operatives in our Ministry."

"But our countries are friends!"

"For a politician, Mr. Weasley, you are surprisingly naive."

"What do you mean?"

Luc smiled to himself. A little motivation won't go astray here, he thought. "On the surface our countries are friends, yes. Both diplomatically and militarily. But this does not mean that we do not keep tabs on one another. It is in the tradition of espionage. But the tabs we keep are friendly. Quite unlike that of the Certese Circle. It is through our British links that we have found out that they plan on eradicating the world of Muggle-borns. Tell me, my friend, would you like your pretty little wife to be 'eradicated'?"

Ron's face grew purple before he visibly took hold of himself. "The British Ministry Security Department is perfectly able to look after itself," he said sharply.

"Is it really, Mr. Weasley?" Luc smiled again as the question hung in the air.

Ron didn't reply.

~~~~

"What a-are you doing?" Draco was disgusted that he couldn't keep the quaver out of his voice.

"Never you mind." A silky smile from Harry was thrown in his direction.

Once out of the conference room, Harry had prodded him in the small of his back with his gun the entire way down a long and dark corridor. Curiously enough, however, the corridor seemed to be well heated, which was more than Draco could say for the room he was currently in. Harry had pushed Draco onto the sole chair in the centre of the room where the manacles had immediately locked themselves onto his wrists and ankles. Now the other man seemed to be putting together some implement at the other end of the room.

"What are you doing with that... thing?" stammered Draco. "Aren't I in French hands now?" Silently he berated himself for getting into the prisoner mentality. He had seen so many Muggles at the hands of the Dark Lord begging to be allowed to live for simply one more day, kissing the hem of his robes, offering themselves. Draco had promised himself that he would never succumb to that particular indignity.

"I won't hurt you Malfoy." There was just the slightest hint of a stress on the word hurt.

"Then what the fuck are you doing?" Draco burst out.

Harry turned cold eyes towards him. "Not everything revolves around you." He turned back and continued to put various implements in his pockets.

"You're stealing from the Squad?" Draco spluttered in disbelief as he finally realised what was going on. "That is completely, utterly, certifiably...."

"Insane?" Harry finished for him.

"I thought these people were your friends!"

Harry spun around so quickly that it made Draco's head spin. "Friends, Malfoy? Do you truly believe that in this business I would have any friends? Luc is an acquaintance, that is all."

"I submit that I was something different the last time we met, Harry."

Draco turned his head slightly and saw the lazy cat-like figure of Luc lounging by the door. The other man's eyes glittered.

Harry gave no sign of surprise. "Luc," he said quietly, inclining his head but not failing to keep his eyes trained on the other man. "We are professionals, are we not?" Not waiting for an answer, Harry continued: "Nothing more, nothing less."

Draco was confused, to put it mildly. The two men were staring at each other from opposite sides of the room and by Merlin! the intensity of their gaze was unlike anything Draco Malfoy had ever seen before. The cold green eyes matched only by the dark emptiness of the dark brown ones. Involuntarily his stomach gave a rumble. Immediately, the two men looked away from each other.

Luc's gaze wandered down to what Harry's hands were holding. "Thinking of stealing from the Squad, are you?" he sneered. "Serpent!"

Harry calmly put down the Uzi submachine gun he was holding. "No more than you were going to kill Malfoy as soon as I left, Marseilles."

"He was going to kill me?" Draco asked, his voice changing from its normal tone to a high-pitched panic. "And you weren't gonna do anything about it?" His eyes bugged out of his head as he strained on the restraints holding him.

"There is no use struggling," Luc said, almost conversationally. "Those manacles around your arms and legs are magical. The more you struggle... well, let us just say the more truthful you become."

"Malfoy!" Harry's voice was sharp: a thread of panic visible. "Stop struggling!"

"Why?" Draco sneered. "You were going to simply leave me here at the mercy of these bastards! Pitiful, really, betraying a fellow countryman to enemy agents merely because of a schoolyard spite." His face clouded over for a second before he muttered to himself. "I thought France was our ally..."

"Stop it, Malfoy!" Harry snapped. "I mean it. Stop being an arrogant shit and just listen for once. There is scopolamine in the restraints."

"What?"

"Allow me, Mr. Malfoy," Luc broke in. "Scopolamine is a crude Muggle truth serum. Nowhere near as effective as its magical counterpart, but nevertheless... it does have some benefits." He laughed cruelly. "This was a special batch, made especially to be absorbed through the skin."

Draco finally stopped struggling but still looked up with narrowed eyes at the other two men. "So, what are you going to do now?"

"Really, Serpent, I would have thought you would have a better taste in companions. This one is ... terribly unprofessional."

Harry didn't respond. "Tell me, Marseilles, how long have you been working for them?" His voice was flat, even, and completely emotionless. "What did they offer you? Protection? Money? Fame? The Circle can't protect you forever and the Squad never forgets."

"Do you not think that I know that, my old friend. I do this not for myself but for..." Luc broke off and clapped his hands briskly twice.

Harry, however, was quicker. In one lightening-fast motion, he grabbed the assembled Uzi from the table and pulled the trigger. There was a deafening sound as Luc's body became riddled with bullets, jerking in mid-air. The door crashed open and two armed men burst in, guns blazing. Harry ducked and fired another round at the two men who collapsed onto the ground.

Draco's mouth fell open, in both surprise and horror. This was the quiet, unassuming boy he had known and hated during his schooling years. The murderer he now saw in front of his eyes was an old classmate and of all things a Gryffindor!

The Uzi was placed upon the table again as Harry hurried over to undo Draco's restraints. The other man immediately shied away. "Malfoy, I am not going to hurt you. What I did was necessary." The words were quiet.

"But you just... killed them!"

"And you don't think they would have done the same to me?" Harry sighed. "Once a man is bought, there is no bringing him back. I once knew Marseilles - Luc - very well..." he trailed off.

"You tried to kill me last night!" Draco accused.

"I won't deny that and I apologise for my hasty action. I will explain everything later, right now we need to get out of this building." Harry swiftly undid Draco's restraints by hand and dragged the other man up. "Can you walk?" he asked tersely.

Stumbling slightly, Draco answered: "Barely."

"That'll have to do."

As Draco followed Harry out of the room, a thought occurred to him. "What about the Weasleys?"

Harry stopped suddenly. "I don't believe it is in the Squad's best interest to have either Ron or Hermione killed right now. Neither do I believe that it is in the Circle's best interest. Ronald Weasley is well placed to become the next Minister and his wife is very influential in scientific circles, both Muggle and magical."

Draco was incredulous. "Not that either are my friends or anything, but you are simply going to leave them there? After you just killed three Squad members?"

The other man closed his eyes briefly. "Damn you Malfoy. I don't have enough time to explain all this. But think! If the Circle thought that you were important enough to capture, then I will not argue with them."

"But then why did you bring me here? Why did you bring them here?"

"Be quiet!" Harry's voice was harsh. He could tell that the other man, unused to such violence, was nearing hysterics. "Did you think I had a choice about it? If I had protested, then Marseilles would have had me killed. I knew something was up the moment he stepped into the questioning centre. The top secret British Ministry questioning centre! What else was I do?"

"Not give me up to those lunatics!" was the hissed reply. "By the way, where the fuck are we going anyway?"

"We are going to meet my controllers. They will question you appropriately. Now unless you wish for us to be discovered here, tortured and then brutally murdered, I suggest you shut up." Harry's tone was light but his words piercing.

Draco Malfoy shut up.

~~~~

The petite blonde smiled disarmingly at the older man who currently was enraptured by her eyes. Dark brown eyes, so strange on one with such light coloured hair. "Tony!" she murmured softly as her expert fingers stroked.

He ran his fingers through her hair as his mouth sought hers. When he came up for air, there was a shy, almost goofy smile on his face. "You are beautiful," he whispered into her ear.

She simply smiled, and reaching over to the small side-table, grabbed the glass of clear absinthe. "Drink up, my love."

Tony smiled adoringly at her as he reached for his own glass and downed the contents. "You have such lovely eyes."

"I'm glad you think so, Mr. McInnis."

Tony jerked his head up, startled. Standing over the couch was a man he had never seen before. He also had a gun pointing towards the pair. Tony began to shake, but whether it was from fear, or alcohol, he couldn't tell.

"Finally!" the woman at Tony's side said angrily, as she sat up and adjusted her clothes. Standing up, she glanced down at Tony. "Sorry lover-boy but I gotta go. I'm sure you understand." Leaning down, she blew him a kiss.

"Get out of here," the other man, ordered her and she quickly complied.

"W...what do you want?" Tony asked, his voice quavering and his hands fumbling for his money-belt. "Here," he thrust the contents at the man, "I have twelve Galleons! Take it!"

The man looked disdainfully at the meagre contents. "I do not want your money, Mr. McInnis. I merely wish to talk with you for a few minutes."

Tony couldn't help looking nervously at the weapon. "Is that Muggle thing really necessary?"

"Of course!" the man smiled coldly. "Do you forget that this is a Muggle hotel? There are many crazed Muggles out there. Who is to say that some poor wizard, engaged in some ... extracurricular activities might not get caught in the crossfire."

An audible gulping sound came from Tony. "Then what do you want?"

"Merely to talk. Nothing else. I am to understand that you wish to nominate Ronald Weasley for the position of Minister of Magic." Tony nodded his assent as the man continued. "For you and your family's continued safety, I suggest that you give your endorsement to Mr. Weasley's superior instead."

"And what if I refuse?"

"Well we would hate for your Judy to receive these photographs, wouldn't we?" The man took out of his pocket four large, colour, moving photographs depicting Tony and the blonde woman in some very... intriguing positions and threw them on the bed.

Tony turned pale and immediately tore them apart.

"Did you think they were the only copies? We have much more, Mr. McInnis. I assure you, we most definitely have many more. And they are not simply of you and that girl. We would hate Judy to see some of your other more unusual conquests of late, wouldn't we?" The man smiled coldly. "Do not contact your Ministry about this meeting, or there will be consequences. And remember, you will not endorse Ronald Weasley as a candidate." And with those words and a sweeping of his trench coat, the man was gone, leaving a very much shaken Tony McInnis behind.

Author Notes: Thank you very much to my beta reader Heather who had to put up with my overly-formal dialogue and terrible descriptions. I suppose my dialogue is formal because most of these people are professionals and they're in (mostly) unusual conditions. Under those conditions, people will either revert to childish babble or to overly formal language. Also, many (such as Luc) are foreigners speaking English and this would be to their detriment, as they would have learned textbook English. And lastly, I plead ignorance. I really do speak like that! (and so do many people I know)

Also, thank you to all my LJ friends (you know who you are) who helped me with my atrocious punctuation. Again, I plead ignorance. I really didn't know!

Last but not least, thank you to everyone who has ever read and/or reviewed this story. You guys keep me going. Sorry for the long time between chapters.