Eagles Belong Where They Can Fly

Keiran wanted to smile at her joke, but the fact that he had caused some issues for the Ministry, inadvertently or not, sort of stuck in the back of his mind and distracted him. So he just shrugged and tried to muster his best amused expression for her. Did she even know what he had done? Maybe he needed to properly lay it out for her, instead of expecting her to hear about it. It was this time away from her that made his failures in communication more obvious.

The house elf thing was, admittedly, a surprise. But Keiran couldn't really blame her. Not only were elves quite pushy and notorious for their tendency to become attached, she probably needed the help. So, as odd as he felt about his family having one, Keiran couldn't complain about it. He was, immediately, distracted from the topic when the flash of red appeared in front of his eyes. Sure, green was his favorite, but red had easily become a very, very close second.

His eyes, darker than usual all of the sudden, flicked up to hers, and his eyebrow lifted with silent and obvious curiosity. As much as he sometimes felt that they were more like people going on dates, he liked the fact that they were more than that. So it was actually okay for him to shoot her looks like that one, which clearly did not belong at work. But, to be fair, offices had never really.. turned them off of such things.

But then they were leaving, and he found himself less than surprised at Ren. Keiran only looked at the magazine for a moment before he focused elsewhere, uninterested in anyone picking up on his curiosity when it came to her 'reading' for the day. He was about to comment in return, about to tell her to watch her mouth around his wife, but Millie took care of it.

A smirk inched onto his face at her expression as she looked over the desk, but then the spell took effect and he began laughing so hard that his eyes fell closed for a moment. He opened them to find that Millie was pulling him away, so he tossed a comment or two over his shoulder at Ren.

"Remember, doll! I'm the one setting you up, so I'd be more careful if I were you."

But then they were gone, and Millie deposited them in an alley. A quiet chuckle escaped, and for an instant he just wanted to stop her and just back her up against the wall. But she reached for him first, closing that distance for him. He grinned after her, taking a second to properly gather himself before following his love through the late evening's light.

He was a bit surprised to see that she snagged a table so quickly, but Keiran followed without question, sinking into the seat next to hers. Looking at her and taking in how surprisingly casual she seemed, he had to wonder if this was what forgiveness felt like for everyone. Because, for him, it was kind of awesome. They had both taken a step back, and it registered that playing to win didn't always win them the game. Now that they were taking things as they came along, it was easier to feel more at ease.

"That sounds great," he agreed easily, nodding along. "So how about you explain what the issue is, yeah?"

The familiar, but distant feeling of her heart fluttering in her chest, that bubbly butterfly feeling, took hold of the young witch at the sound of his laughter. His laughter. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed it. Missed him. Even if it was at the expense of Carenza, Millie’s heart bloomed knowing she’d made him laugh again. It was impossible to tear the smile from her face now even as the mood became more focused. She knew, though, that she needed to get on track or they’d never get the job down.

She had been avoiding thinking about what would happen if they didn’t manage to get the job one that night. Peter had assured her that the plan was fool-proof. That lightly translated into the fact that even she, out of practise though she was, could get the gems out of the warehouse and into her back and onto the black market by tomorrow evening without failure. There was no room, nor any contingency plan, for the event of failure. She had to do this. But she wasn’t alone, either. They could do this.

“Just let me grab the food,” she told him with a bright smile as she got to her feet.

She fished her wallet from her back pocket and peered into it, pouting at the purple twenty pound note that marked the last of her Muggle money. Making a mental note to go to Gringott’s in the next few days, Millie handed over the cash in exchange for the noms. The dull, lifeless teenager behind the counter promised that the toasties would be brought to their table in a few minutes and Millie took the change before bringing a tray of coffee and cheesecake back with her. She set the things down and skipped over to return the tray before landing back in her chair, making a beeline with her hands for her coffee.

There was no movement outside, though she glanced out of the window anyway at the building across the road. There wasn’t even a rustle in the bushes. It was early yet, though, and she knew she needed to relax. It was pointless getting uppity before there was due cause. Peter had done his homework. There wouldn’t be any need to move for a long time yet.

“How many cases of organised crime have passed your desk lately?” She asked. “There’s one bloke in particular who the aurors have been chasing for years and have never been able to get hold of. He does everything. Arms, narcotics, art – he’ll sell it all if he can get a decent price. I knew him, once. Bae and I used to go to his club in Knockturn Alley, The Charcoal Den. We used to play there occasionally and then it became more regular because it was the price of what he was selling to us. Urien Barnard.”

Millie paused to see if there was a flicker of recognition and she took the opportunity to bring her coffee to her lips, taking a grateful glug of it. It wasn’t too bad, either. She’d been taking it differently lately, too, closer to what Keiran had.

“Bae left first and I followed him the next year but I didn’t leave empty handed. I’ll always remember this safe, hidden behind a Picasso I never thought was real even for a second. Turns out…” she shrugged, a smirk lighting up her face. “But he used to sit with us after the night was over and we’d drink through a bottle of Ogden’s and talk about everything under the sun. I’ll never forget when he first showed us what was in the safe. It was this gold box, covered in jewels and they say—“

The girl came over and Millie sat back, murmuring her thanks when the food was set down. The girl nodded and shuffled away. Millie waited until she was suitably out of earshot before continuing, picking the time to bring her cup to her lips once more.

“Whenever it’s actually been in open circulation, out in the open, the historians that have studied it have always said that it belonged to Cleopatra. It’s a magical object – the sort of thing the misuse department would love to get their hands on. But it’s 2,000 years old … that’s … that’s ancient magic.” She picked up her fork and tapped the top of the toastie as she thought.

“Urien had it for about ten years. I know he bought it off of a shifty Slovakian chap who wanted rid of it. He’d stolen it from a museum beforehand, apparently, but even they weren’t meant to have it according to Urien. But he spent years trying to work it out, trying to get to the bottom of its power and work out where the jewels inside had gone. Everyone always assumed that it had been moved or stolen by the Romans or someone else but what I didn’t realise until the other day was that the box isn’t actually decorated. It’s solid gold. The jewels on the outside aren’t meant to be there.”

Millie raised her eyebrows, looking at him pointedly, wondering whether he’d assess what she was getting at.

“Urien stopped looking at it long before we left, though,” Millie continued. “I think he must have gotten annoyed. But I also think he’s not been looking at it for the last four years, either, because I haven’t heard any whisper of him until a few months ago. Bae … Bae, bless him. He didn’t know anything about it. But Cassias, one of Urien’s goons… Merlin. The idiot, he threatened Ben and the kids and Bae just saw red, I guess. He beat the stuffing out of him,” she exhaled and brought her hand up to her neck.

“It was an accident, mind, and he’s still not right over it. Theo sorted it out, made it all go away, and Bae told Ben and they’re safe but he … Long before you moved down here, Bae came to see me. He knew it was me. He also knew I was lying when I told him I didn’t know anything about it and he’s not spoken to me since. But I couldn’t have done anything even if I had wanted to at the time because, I mean, I was pregnant.” She puffed a lock of hair out of her eyes and shook her head.

“They didn’t find me until about a week ago when I decided to do something about it. I was meeting Michael. Err, Tremaine. I got jumped in one of the back alleys behind the Hog’s Head by someone who was an old friend. I mean, I thought he was dead. Stephen…he was meant to have overdosed years ago but he was very much alive. As it was, he bottled it. He didn’t have the balls to use any unforgiveables. Peter Howard, the new owner of the pub, happened to come out of the side door and he hexed him. If you look, the department of transportation is probably annoyed because an illegal portkey went off that night and it sent Stephen to South America.” Millie smirked, shaking her head.

“Michael agreed to fence it. Originally I wanted to break the box into bits but you can’t do that to it without disturbing the magic. We want to pose as collectors and to do that we need gems from the period. That’s where this place is going to come in.” She gestured out of the window with the end of her fork and then broke into one end of her toastie. “They’ve got jewels in there that they shouldn’t and a guard rotation that is ineffectual in a two hour window. We can get in and get out and no one will ever know because it can’t be reported.”

“If all goes well, Michael can complete his mad plan to use this all against Urien and get rid of him for good. If it means he leaves everyone alone, I don’t care what happens to him.” She shrugged her shoulder and took a bite of the toastie. She swallowed it with a mouthful of the coffee.

“So, I mean … it’s a crime, technically, I suppose … but is it really theft if the goods are already stolen?” She raised an eyebrow and grinned at him.

It would have been impossible to keep track of every change in Keiran's expression as Millie spoke, but it was safe to say that the man was doing a great deal more staring and listening than eating. Even if it did look pretty good. He couldn't exactly blame her for trying to hide that bad part of her life - or, Keiran would have called that whole thing pretty bad, anyway - but he did wish she could have trusted with her issues before something like this had happened.

His first question, unsurprisingly, was: "You were attacked?"

Peter's name was familiar, if only from his Hogwarts years and the apparent dislike the older man had for Keiran during that time. He maybe should have asked about everything else she mentioned, but the ordeal with this Stephen person was recent. And Keiran hadn't been there. He looked down at his plate, rubbing at the back of his neck out of frustration and guilt. He should have been there, or at least known.

Instead of making a comment about how she had left him out - considering it had been his own idea - Keiran turned to look out the window again. "So... You wanted me to help you break in? You're lucky I'm not in the law enforcement department, technically," he said, leaning forward a bit.

She said she had it planned out, and in his heart he knew he could trust her not to get them into anything they couldn't handle. If nothing else, she wouldn't get both of them involved in it. There had to be someone to take care of the kids. A moment came and went in which he wanted to tell her he would do it himself. But she wouldn't go for that and he didn't really know what they were after. Besides, she didn't need to think he didn't trust her.

"To be fair," he continued finally, referring to her final question. "That's like asking if the British Museum will return the Elgin Marbles. It'll piss off the people who've taken them, so we can't be caught. I can't claim to be skilled at memory-alteration spells, either, so I hope your plan will work as well as you expect it to."

With the amount she’d said, Millie felt as though she’d reached and surpassed her word quota for the day. Once she had finished, her shoulders drooped and she deflated contentedly into her chair, lowering her gaze to pay attention to the toasty. The cheese oozed and she smiled at it, bringing a piece to her lips. She looked up when Keiran spoke and chewed the piece in her mouth quickly before swallowing, hoping to dissuade him from worrying about.

“Not quite attacked,” she corrected gently, smiling a little. “I mean, he sort of pointed his wand at me mock-threateningly. He was in more danger than I was. It was as though he thought I didn’t know. He also made a mistake, thinking that any lingering fondness on my part would keep me from killing him.” She shook her head and picked up her coffee, taking a slug of it. “I wasn’t sure if he was bluffing about the stunning spell he was threatening, either, so I just …” she set down the coffee cup as uneasy feeling washed over her.

In the aftermath of the run-in with Stephen, she’d not really reflected on it. Suitably distracted by the meeting and then later by Peter who insisted on escorting her back up to the castle, she’d not really thought about it until now. She’d not had time to think about how scary it really had been. If he had been stronger, if he hadn’t hesitated, perhaps he would have killed her. She sat back in the chair as that thought took hold of her. Shaking herself, Millie sat up again and decided to put it out of her mind. It was over now. There was no point lingering on it.

“Never mind,” she said aloud, as much for Keiran’s benefit as for her own. “It’s done. It’ll be a while before he darkens anyone’s door again and with a bit of luck, this will be finished by then.”

A smirk lifted her lips and chased away the last of the funny feeling that had rumbled within her. She laughed then, shaking her head as she cut into another part of the toasty.

“You wouldn’t really arrest me even if you were would you?” She teased, batting her eyelashes at him playfully before laughing again. “But yeah. I need you to be my second pair of hands, if you’re still willing. I need someone I can trust and who I know is capable. We’ll have each other’s backs, I know that, and that’s half the battle with something like this.”

Millie nodded, reaching for her coffee again. “We can pick them up on the way through if you like?” She laughed a little, eyeing him with a mock-serious expression – though, she could admit to being tempted by it. “As it is, we don’t need to give the museum authorities a reason to start a public inquiry so we should leave the marbles for now. We can come back later if you get a taste for this,” she winked and smiled, bringing the coffee to her lips. “We won’t get caught,” she said confidently after swallowing. “I’ve got this.”

I've got this.

Not we. Just her. Keiran had brought the feeling on himself, and he knew that, but it still wasn't pleasant. No, he had told her, he would have found a way to avoid arresting her. Yes, he'd said, of course he would still help. He intended to smile and shake his head at her joke - assuming it was entirely a joke - but never actually got the chance. Because she concluded with that.

Back in his school years, things would have been much different. Back when he was being a cad with Robin, they would have been even more so. But in all of the segments of his life, Keiran had never struggled so much with his self-confidence as much as during his marriage to Millie. He had gone through more than most people could ever claim to in just two years, and what did he have to show for it?

She said they would have each others' backs. Any friend would have. Had she asked that Peter guy? Or Michael? Keiran could have been her last resort for all he knew, and it all came down to the fact that she probably would've done it alone if she could have, even knowing that Keiran had the ability to get her out of trouble. No matter what his job was, it seemed, it wasn't ever going to be enough.

...and the evening had started out so well...

A part of him wondered what he would have been doing if he had stayed at the office with Ren until his then-undetermined schedule for the day came to a close. Probably complaining through a laugh, or saving Ren from a fully-deserved talking to from Krum.

Why wasn't he enough? Why couldn't she find a way to trust him or invest in him beyond children and a semblance of a home? That made her sound shallow, he realized, and regretted thinking it. But surely she could see that she would never be exceptionally happy with that life? Nobody could be. He had never wanted to be married, but now that he was, Keiran had to wonder if anyone on the planet was more confused about the whole arrangement than he was. He caged deeply for his children and wanted to understand Millie better. It was hard when she didn't open herself up to that, though, or try to let him help in places that a husband should.

Again, he reminded himself that he could have been home when it all happened, but he wasn't convinced that he would ever have heard about this if he hadn't left. The month was up on Sunday, and he still didn't know what he wanted. Did she? Maybe this was all a sign that she wanted to go it alone but just couldn't today. She had been reluctant to even ask him, despite his many assurances in the past that he wanted to help and to take care of her when she would let him.

The thing that stopped him from showing his disappointment in his face, though, was the knowledge that - one way or another - he had learned something about her. She had said things he hadn't expected her to, and finally told him about her schemes and plots rather than announcing them when it was too late for him to be involved or have any sort of say in them. And that was definitely something. So instead of disappointment, he tempered his anxiety and brought out a sliver of that confidence he had so openly possessed in school.

Merlin, if Millie had been able to see him back then. Maybe she would have thought differently, or taken him more seriously than she did now.

"Okay. How long do we have to wait, then?" He asked, attempting to return to the business at hand as gracefully as he could manage. If Millie'd caught the tension in his shoulders, Keiran would have been surprised.

Blessedly, the toasty she was contentedly munching through was getting better with every bite. It may have had something to do with the fact that she’d neglected to eat for the majority of the day. Yeti had been insistent she have breakfast. Irate though it made the witch to be mothered by the elf, when the breakfast muffin had been presented to her beside her satchel and her coffee, she couldn’t help but smile. Before the toasty, though, there had been very little else indeed apart from some pistachios she’d had while her third years were reading tea leaves. It meant that she ultimately didn’t get to see the change in her husband’s body language but what the witch did notice was the change in the air between them.

The tension rippled over her like a wave upon the shore and she followed it, lifting her head to try and see what had happened, a frown just colouring her features. She couldn’t, for the life of her, tell what was amiss, though. Suddenly the conversation felt strained but she had no clue why. She glanced about, trying to work out if someone had come in who looked shifty or whom they knew. No one. The café was largely empty at this time of night. The kids minding it for the night were getting ready to pack up now. No, it was between them. Only, she couldn’t … He spoke then, with a slight edge to his voice that made her blink. She decided to shake the feeling, to forget about it, to focus and she glanced down at her watch, its hands twinkling merrily up at her.

“Ten minutes,” she read off. So time had flown by after all. She rolled her shoulders a little, trying to ward off any anxiety she felt, but it was clinging to her like one of the twins after a bad dream.

“Scared, love?”

“Lacking practise.”

Exhaling slowly, Millie glanced furtively at her watch again before setting down her fork, her appetite now squandered. She reached up and pulled at the back of her neck, running her fingers through the grooves there. It was a little bit pink when she dropped her hand again, although it looked better than it had done for weeks even with the worrying off it she would do during the evening. She drew her fingers through her hair and took one last gulp of her coffee before checking her wand was tucked in her boot still. Safe. The closer it got, the more she was now beginning to grow uneasy.

“It’ll be fine,” she said again, without any real cause to. It felt better to say it aloud, though, as though the more times she said it, the more likely it was to become true. She looked at her clock again. “Right,” she uttered, getting to her feet. Her hands had an unnatural sort of quiver to them as she picked up the empty plates. The china clinked together. Biting her lip, Millie whisked the plates and other bits away as quickly as possible.

“Are you ready to go, hun?” She asked, picking her bag up off of the floor. She flashed him a smile.

Outside, the night had cooled and a faint sheen of rain had settled over the road and pavements. She crossed the road, her bag bouncing on her shoulder, and she passed by the bushes outside before hopping over a low wall. Over a grassy embankment and she slid – rather ungracefully in the mud – down into the porch of one of the utility side doors. It was locked, too. She turned and lit the end of her wand so that they could see the door handle in the dark.

“Wanna do the honours?”

When Keiran focused in again, he remembered why he had decided to come along with her in the first place. She had asked for his help. And whether or not he believed that she had come to him first, it was definitely a step in the right direction, considering before they had just tried to hide everything. Pushing her most obvious transgression aside in his mind, Keiran took a moment to really register the fact that she seemed more anxious than she wanted to admit. And he quite clearly was not helping.

His hand reached across the table to stop her fidgeting, and he gave her a serious, but hopefully reassuring, nod. "It is fine. Sorry, I got lost in thought for a second there."

She stood, and he realized just how little help he had been during their time at the table, so he slipped on his jacket and stood to join her. "Yeah, of course," Keiran agreed, his arm curving around her waist as they left and made their way across the street. That probably made them look less suspicious, right? He didn't exactly have the criminal streak in him that would have been helpful in this situation, but he had a fair bit of sneaky-snakiness that hopefully pointed him in the right direction.

He followed her to the door she wanted to enter through - break through, technically - and almost laughed when she asked if he wanted to do it. Did he really? Not so much. But she needed him to, and the idea of him being the one to initiate the theft was rather amusing, and he registered the fact that it wasn't the first time he had done so. Only, in this case, it wasn't to save someone's life. Or was it? The men after Millie definitely seemed like they would take risks. Keiran was fairly frustrated that she didn't seem worried about that. But he was glad to be there just in case she was wrong.

So his wand came from his pocket so he could cast a charm to unlock the door, and Keiran gripped it a bit tighter as he reached for the handle. He half expected some other sort of protection on the door, but then realized it was more likely to be on the objects themselves, so he turned the handle with purpose and let it swing open in front of them. It felt more real now that they could actually cross the threshold, so he drew in a breath and looked at Millie for a moment before reaching out to her. He held her chin to ensure that she was listening to him properly.

"Something happens, you get to safety. You hear me? You're the one with the most to worry about," he reminded her, probably without really needing to. His hold on her relaxed as he searched her gaze for some sort of agreement. Even if she didn't give it, he had already said he would help. Keiran hesitated, brushing his thumb over her lower lip.

"I've missed you," he admitted quietly but firmly. He was wasting time, though, so he released her and stepped back, turning towards the door and moving to take the first step into whatever it was she was getting them into.

The museum. It was a strange place without the throng of people. Peter had been amongst them in the week while Finley had been at school. He had apparently been pretending to take pictures and had at one point chatted up one of the female security guards who was more than happy to inform him about the safety procedures and the side door that was surprisingly – and “most annoyingly” – lacking good coverage. He had been jubilant about that, apparently otherwise at a loss as to how to get them inside unless they went the excessive route and emulated a Tom Cruise action movie with a skylight entrance. There was something a little bit more stylish about the side door – if only because there was a distinct lack of alarms or broken glass.

The lights were still on, a further mark of the dereliction of duty which was going to allow for this heist. She was relishing the opportunity to have her back weighted by wealth – and ancient wealth at that. It had felt the same when she had first taken the box. Greed had very little to do with it. After all, she could have sold the box years ago. No, it was the satisfaction of being able to get one over one someone else who thought they had more power. Urien. The owners of the museum. They were both the same, both in possession of items they should not have had. Arguably Millie was now the same but it had been a souvenir, the box. This was business.

Stepping forward, Millie was careful to keep her foot on the door so that didn’t suddenly bang shut. There was no use attracting unwanted attention just yet. They did need a head start. She pushed off with all intentions of moving on quickly through the museum, not really trusting her own abilities to get them in and out in time and wanting to speed matters up, but Keiran, rather blessedly, slowed them down and his words reminded her that rushing into things wasn’t going to make the theft a clean one. It would lead to a mess that would ultimately probably see them caught and, as good as Robert was, she didn’t think he’d have an answer for the British Prime Minister.

Her eyes found his and she wiggled a little, the panic within her urging her to go and to not linger. His words had their sobering effect, though, and while she knew it made sense there was also nothing in her that was going to let her leave him behind. It didn’t have anything to do with it being the way she worked. She didn’t leave her partners behind, no, but he was different — of course he was. Getting out without him wasn’t going to be an option, regardless of how much she had to worry about. Rather neatly, she actually would have rather been captured if it meant he would get out fine and safe but that wasn’t really sensible, either, so they were at a bit of an impasse in that regard.

“I’m not leaving you behind,” she told him simply, her voice lilting slightly as though saying it aloud somehow made that reality more likely. “Don’t ask that of me,” she asked, her brows coming together imploringly. “We both come out or neither of us do. That’s the way this works. If we don’t get out, we’ll have to sleep in the T-Rex’s ribcage.” That conjured up an interesting image that brought an involuntary smile to the blonde witch’s lips. The image of them cuddled up more or less technically inside a dinosaur was one that oddly appealed to her. A few disillusionment charms and they’d be a-go – sleepy dinosaurs!

Well, that was one way to bond.

His confession stole away all consideration of pre-historic slumber and she looked at him, for a second wondering how he could have possibly missed her when all she had ever really done was make him unhappy and now, after nearly a month of separation mitigated by a couple of dinners, she was dragging him into a museum to steal. He was being honest, though, by all appearances. It made her heart feel a little bit brighter inside her chest and she followed in after him, her hand reaching for his as she hopped up to steal a kiss from him, a chaste sort of peck that made her want to linger longer than she knew they could.

“I’ve missed you too.”

She squeezed his hand and smiled before falling into a walk beside him, sort of leading but not quite and happy to just be beside him. They moved through the different rooms in that wing of the museum, Millie getting momentarily distracted by a mosaic before skipping back hurriedly to their course which saw them reach a dead end in front of a bolted security door which she hadn’t, in truth, been expecting.

“Huh,” she rolled her lips together and pulled her notepad from her back pocket which held Peter’s careful writing inside, explaining what they’d need to do. He’d even drawn rather crude diagrams to explain but he had written nothing about the door. This one wouldn’t open even with magic without the alarms going off and if by some stroke of luck they were quick enough to suppress the sound, the security firm would still be notified and they’d be in trouble before they could even say ‘gem.’

There was a gap over the top that she could probably scurry across or, if they stood back a ways, Keiran could probably throw her through. Either Peter had known about this and was looking forward to chucking her through the air or he’d made a mistake somewhere along the line. Either way, he was a:

“Bloody git,” she muttered under her breath, glancing up at the door again.

“Talking about me, Mills?”

The twang that located the sandy-haired man’s origins as Southend-on-Sea rang through the air and Millie turned around, utter astonishment clouding her features. He was ambling through the museum, hands in his pockets and an easy smile on his face, as though he was going out for an evening in the town – not burgle somewhere.

“Seems like a funny date for your wife to take you on,” Peter commented, holding out his hand to Keiran.

“Yes, hilarious. Okay,” Millie pointed between them. “Keiran, Peter. Peter, Keiran. Where’s Finley and what on earth is that door there for?”

“I know him,” Peter replied solemnly, dropping his hand. “And Mrs Hubbard has Finley, okay, mumma-bear?” He chuckled. “The door is there to stop the likes of us from pilfering their pilfered stock, love.”

“Not in the notes!” She threw the pad at him with a huff and he grinned. "Wait, you know each other?"

“Hogwarts. You need to relax, by the way,” he told her, tucking the pad in his back pocket, exchanging it for a guard’s key card which he held up with a knowing smile. “It’s all under control.” 

“Peter,” she murmured warningly, raising her eyebrows at him. “Where did you get that from?”

“The new guard coming to replace the old one. You’re lucky I came when I did because he was on his way in here.” The Hufflepuff moved past the witch and began to fiddle with the door.

Millie felt a little twinge of fear sail through her. "He was early." Peter nodded sagely.

“He’s okay, I guess,” the wizard said, pressing the buttons. “Broken wrist, a bit bloodied and knocked out but otherwise … y’know. I mean, he’ll live.”

The door rang out its little chime and the light on the console went green. Peter pushed his shoulder against it and it swung open.

“In you go, kids,” he offered, holding it open for them. “Only a few rooms now,” he took the notepad and tossed it in the air in front of Millie so she could snatch it back. “Well caught,” he praised. “Through the next two doors. Then we hit the jackpot.”

Keiran, of course, would have liked to argue. But Millie's impatience was not a bad thing in this case, and despite his hesitation, they had no time to lose. Perhaps if he proved helpful in this, she wouldn't feel so conflicted when it came to informing him in the future. After all, wasn't this pretty important to her? He just wanted to be helpful. So he kept quiet, simply following and trying to figure out what would be expected of him.

Millie seemed to have a list of some sort, so he just tried to avoid seeming impatient. Now that they were inside, it was a little bit more difficult to feel relaxed, and his momentary amusement felt long gone, now. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but instead found himself turning over his shoulder and half-lifting his wand when someone else spoke.

Peter? ...Why?

Keiran felt like rolling his eyes probably would not have gone over well, so he instead just sighed and reluctantly took the older man's hand when it was offered. The other two began bickering or whatever it was they were doing and Keiran could only grimace and wait for someone to move things along. He couldn't remember the exact scenario of his last meeting with Peter, except that there had always been something weird about the other man. Peter was a Hufflepuff, for starters. So Keiran had not exactly spent a long time trying to get to know him. But, the stranger thing, though? Peter had obviously not liked Keiran, and he had never really understood why.

That wasn't to say that Keiran had an innate need to be liked. He knew he was a git, to be fair. But there had been an immediate standoffishness from the Huff'n'puff, and Keiran didn't particularly appreciate the way he seemed so familiar with Millie. It wasn't as though Keiran didn't know she had friends he hadn't expected, but in a situation like this, it somehow felt dangerous. Not because having another ally could be helpful, but because three instead of two meant an additional person to worry about.

Except there had already been someone else, and neither Keiran nor Millie had realized it. So maybe he wasn't allowed to be entirely disgruntled with the situation. Even if he very badly wanted to be.

"Well," Keiran put in with a slow drawl, "We certainly wouldn't want to lose him."

It was unusually irritable for him, particularly when it came to the lives of others. But he blamed that on Peter's presence. He was helping, though, so Keiran did try to hold back his disdain. So when the door open, he gripped his wand tighter and led the way through. Finding the next couple doors was not difficult, but Keiran knew better than to charge through the last one without an idea of what they needed to find. He was going to let Millie step through first when he heard something, his arm flying out across her stomach so he could pull her to him.

"DAD! DAD!"

What the hell?

It was a sound that froze the blood in her veins, one that she was sure made her heart stop. The heat of Keiran’s body behind her own and the tight protective arm around her middle did little to loosen the seizure of fear around her. Her spare hand, not holding the wand that was suddenly lit with the pale blue beginnings of a shield charm, came down to grip hard and fast to the sleeve around his forearm. The three of them seemed to stop all at once, driving to a sudden, jarring halt.

“Finley.”

“Peter no!”

Impulse drove the eldest of the trio forward and the door was thrown open on the large warehouse room which held their prize. Only, there was a much more important creature inside, writhing against the firm hold of Urien’s men. A jet of purple magic cut across the Hufflepuff’s path and he stopped, his fingers readjusting their grip on his wand as it burned a murderous emerald that didn’t go unseen by anyone in the room. Millie found herself glancing at her own, remembering the same colour on the end of hers. Good wasn’t so clean-cut anymore, it seemed.

“Let my son go.”

“Classic,” a hiss came from the upper story. “Let my son go. Got anything new for us?”

“Dad,” Finley gasped. “Please.”

“He’s not involved in this!” Peter exclaimed, glaring up into the shadows. “Take me instead.”

“Cliché!” The voice sighed whimsically.

“Or me!” Millie shouted. “Let Finley go home. Urien wants me. Take me. I know where the box is.”

“Typical Gryffindor,” came the droll, almost bored, response.

“Nasir!” Peter roared. “Let him go!”

At once the man appeared in a puff of bright purple smoke before the Hufflepuff. A light, mocking laugh left his chest and with his wand he prodded at Peter’s chest. Despite the large difference in height between them, Nasir was enough to make Peter move backwards and his eyes lifted to find Finley’s, trying to communicate that everything was under control, that it would be alright. Understandably, the little boy was far from convinced.

“Peter, Peter, Peter,” Nasir rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Miss me?”

“Nasir, that’s my son. Urien and I had a deal. Finley was never allowed—”

“—Deals change sometimes, Pete.” Nasir mocked. “The box is far more important than a deal made with two fingers crossed. Finley is expendable and that makes you expendable. We’ve all got our weaknesses, Peter Howard. For some of us it’s our vices, for the majority it’s those we love. Then, there are those with secrets they would rather keep for the sake of the second weakness. I pity those who bear all three. Two is bad enough, wouldn’t you say?”

“Where is Urien?” Millie called out, gaining Nasir’s attention. Her fingers tightened around Keiran’s arm. “Where is Urien?” She asked again, this time with a fiercer tone.

“He sent me to get the box,” Nasir declared, his eyes resting on Peter. “Figured it was with you given how you and Finnigan are partners in crime.”

“Hayes!” Millie corrected Nasir just as sharply as she would have done anyone who had the gall to call her Melissa who wasn’t Keiran.

“Instead we picked up the boy,” Nasir continued, his eyes flicking to Millie and Keiran as a sardonic grin lit up his features. “And if it wasn’t for the Hogwarts wards then I would have had yours, too.” Millie stiffened. “Rookwood’s a dab hand with wards, isn’t he? It’s alright, love. We’ll get them eventually. Plus, there’s always the youngest. Not too far from here, is she? Fancy a gander, Tom?” He asked one of the brutes. “Let’s see if we can make all three sing and dance. You don’t care enough about the boy to tell me where the box is. But your own … I imagine you’ll sing like a canary – and if you don’t... I expect you’ll make her say, won’t you, Hayes? Your baby is more important than settling an old score, isn’t it, surely? Or are you that selfish?”  

Two of your children are at Hogwarts, the other in London. Divided. Vulnerable.