德哈：蝕心者

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Dawn light filtered through the Auror Headquarters' blinds as Harry stared at the files on his desk, eyes burning. Three days since discovering Draco's diary, he'd barely slept. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw those grey eyes dimming under the Killing Curse's glow.

"Sir?" Auror Collins peeked in again. "A woman insists on seeing you—says it's about Mr. Malfoy."

Harry's head shot up. "Send her in."

A tall woman entered. Platinum blond hair tied in a severe ponytail, glacier-blue eyes. She wore Norwegian Ministry robes but with an odd crest—a serpent entwined with a sword.

"Mr. Potter," her English lightly accented. "Elise Frost. Draco's... associate."

Harry gestured to a seat, subtly casting Muffliato. "How did you know Draco?"

Elise produced a small silver box—identical to one Draco described. "Three years ago, Draco saved my sister from Dark artifact traffickers in Helsinki. After that, I joined his... cause."

Harry opened the box, finding a miniature map glowing with dots across Scandinavia. "This is?"

"Our surveillance of Dark activity." Elise lowered her voice. "Draco built a network spanning Norway to the Baltics. We track illegal Dark artifacts, prevent distribution."

Harry's pulse quickened. This was bigger than imagined. "How many?"

"Twenty-seven core members, more informants." Elise's eyes gleamed. "Draco led us, though he never claimed the title."

Inside the box's hidden compartment was a note: HJP—If anything happens, contact him. Trust him.

"He planned to reach you," Elise said. "Prepared for months. But someone discovered his location, set the trap."

Harry's grip tightened. "Who?"

Elise shook her head. "Not specifics. But Draco worried about Ministry leaks." She hesitated. "A week before... he received a letter from London. Burned it after reading, but said: 'They still demand payment for Father's debts.'"

Harry stood abruptly, pacing. Lucius Malfoy's debts? What could the broken man in Azkaban still owe? Unless...

"The Notts," Harry realized. "Theodore Nott Sr. was Lucius's ally, but testified against him for immunity."

Elise frowned. "How does that—"

"Theodore Nott Jr. is now Head of Magical Law Enforcement," Harry said coldly. "If he's collecting old debts..."

The door burst open—Hermione rushed in. "Harry, you need to—" She stopped upon seeing Elise.

"Elise Frost, Draco's associate. Hermione Granger, Head of Magical Law Enforcement."

Hermione's eyes widened but she remained professional. "The Norway incident report just landed on my desk. There are... discrepancies."

Harry took the file. Officially, Draco had used the Killing Curse, forcing the Hit Wizards to retaliate. But Harry distinctly remembered Draco using only Stunners and Shields.

"They're lying," Harry growled.

Hermione nodded. "Stranger still, this bypassed standard review—came directly from Nott's office."

Harry and Elise exchanged glances. Too coincidental.

"Hermione, can you check Nott's communications with Norway?"

"That requires formal—"

"Please," Harry grasped her hands. "This matters."

Hermione sighed. "I'll try. But Harry... be careful. Nott has powerful allies."

After Hermione left, Elise produced a small pouch. "Draco said to give you this when you were ready."

Harry emptied it—an exquisite silver pocket watch engraved with the Malfoy crest. Pressing the clasp, the lid sprang open to reveal not clock hands, but swirling nebula.

"This is..."

"A Malfoy heirloom," Elise said. "Legend says Salazar Slytherin crafted it himself. Predicts danger, protects the bearer."

Harry recalled Draco's diary entries about narrow escapes. Now he understood. "Why give it to me?"

"Draco said... if anything happened, only you could finish his work." Elise's voice cracked. "Said you understood Dark Arts' dangers better than anyone."

Harry clasped the watch—its metal warmed to his touch. Suddenly, the nebula swirled violently, forming a warning symbol just as the door burst open.

Theodore Nott stood there, flanked by Hit Wizards. Gaunter than Harry remembered, his pale eyes sunken, lips twisted in a smirk.

"Potter, I hear you're investigating the Malfoy case." Nott's voice oozed false concern. "That's under my jurisdiction."

Harry pocketed the watch casually. "As Head Auror, I review all Dark Arts cases."

Nott's gaze flicked to Elise. "And this is?"

"Norwegian Ministry liaison," Harry said smoothly. "Consulting on cross-border smuggling."

Nott clearly doubted but pressed on. "The Malfoy case is closed. He was a fugitive Death Eater killed resisting arrest. Nothing to investigate."

"Unless someone set a trap," Harry met Nott's stare, "using Ministry resources to settle old scores."

Nott's face contorted briefly. "Careful with accusations, Potter. Even you can't slander a Ministry official without proof." He turned to leave, pausing. "Oh, Malfoy's Norwegian residence is being cleared tomorrow. If you want souvenirs... hurry."

As the door shut, Elise whispered, "He threatened you."

"No," Harry's smile was icy. "He slipped. Revealed he knew Draco left something for me."

The watch grew hot—Harry withdrew it to see the nebula forming an address: Grimmauld Place.

"I need to go somewhere," Harry stood. "Can you stay in London?"

Elise nodded. "The Leaky Cauldron."

"Good. Keep low—I'll contact you."

An hour later, Harry stood in the Black family drawing room. Kreacher had passed years ago, but the house remained pristine thanks to regular elf cleaning.

"Why here?" Harry muttered, checking the watch again—the nebula now formed an upward arrow.

Upstairs in Regulus's old bedroom, the arrow changed to a bookshelf. Among the Dark Arts tomes, one stood out—"The Glory of Pureblood," its spine worn from handling.

Opening it, Harry found a hidden compartment containing a key and parchment in Draco's handwriting:

"Safehouse. If you're reading this, the watch has accepted you. Key opens floor compartment in Norwegian house. Everything you need is there.—D.M."

Harry's pulse raced. Draco had anticipated this, even prepared clues. But why hide them here?

Examining the book's flyleaf answered that—Regulus's handwritten note: "To future rebels: Sometimes the most dangerous place is the safest."

Draco must have found this during summer visits, adopting his cousin's strategy. The realization tightened Harry's chest. Like Regulus, Draco had rebelled against his family's legacy in secret.

Returning to the Ministry, Harry went straight to Hermione's office. She was reviewing documents and waved him in urgently.

"I found something," she whispered. "Nott's been communicating with Norway, but via private owls—no official records. Stranger still..." She produced parchment. "Twelve Floo calls to Norway in six months, all from the Department of Mysteries' emergency hearth."

Harry frowned. "Who has access?"

"Department heads only." Hermione looked grave. "Harry, the logs coincide with Nott's night shifts."

Beyond coincidence now. "I'm going to Norway, Hermione. Draco had a safehouse—there might be proof."

"Too dangerous! If Nott's involved—"

"Exactly why I must go." Harry was resolute. "Draco... he was doing what's right, alone. Now it's my turn."

Hermione saw she couldn't dissuade him. "At least take Ron, or—"

"No, the fewer the better. But I need you to delay Nott—give me 48 hours."

Finally, Hermione nodded. "Be careful. If Nott killed a Malfoy, he won't hesitate to kill a Potter."

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