Colliding shadows
Draco sat in the cramped, windowless room, arms crossed and his foot tapping impatiently against the floor. The ticking clock on the far wall grated on his nerves, its silence somehow louder than the chatter he’d escaped from outside. Across the table, Thorne skimmed through a stack of parchment, unfazed by the tension radiating off Draco.
“Are we really doing this now?” Draco muttered, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. “Making me wait for some glorified transfer when I could be working on an actual case?”
Thorne didn’t even look up. “Veyne is anything but glorified, Malfoy. You’d do well to hold your tongue until he arrives. You’re not exactly known for your charm.”
Draco bristled but held back a retort, settling for glaring at the folder in front of him. Orion Veyne. The name was all anyone could talk about since the briefing. A prodigy from Australia, magic levels off the charts, even compared to Potter. Draco was already unimpressed; people loved to overhype newcomers. He’d believe it when he saw it.
The door creaked open, and Draco glanced up, expecting another Ministry official to deliver a memo or some such nonsense. Instead, a figure stepped inside, and Draco froze.
It was him.
The man from the bar. The stranger with the impossibly black hair, the maddening smirk, and those glowing purple eyes. He carried himself with the same effortless confidence, his dark robes immaculate and his aura commanding.
For a moment, Draco stared, his mind scrambling to connect the dots.
Thorne stood, extending a hand. “Veyne. Glad you made it.”
Draco’s stomach dropped. This is Veyne?
Orion clasped Thorne’s hand with a firm shake, his smirk widening when his gaze landed on Draco. “Good to be here. And you must be Malfoy.”
Draco’s mouth opened, then closed again as he fought to school his expression into something resembling indifference. “You?” he managed, his voice colder than intended.
Orion’s grin only grew. “Me,” he said easily, sliding into the chair across from Draco. “Surprised?”
Draco leaned back, arms crossing tightly over his chest. “I didn’t realize the Ministry was hiring barflies.”
Thorne’s sharp glare cut through the tension. “Enough. You’re partners for this case, and I expect you to act like it.”
Draco’s scowl deepened, but he kept quiet, while Orion’s smirk lingered as if he found the entire situation amusing.
“Now,” Thorne continued, sliding a folder across the table, “here are the details. Magical disturbances in and around Knockturn Alley. Wards being broken, cursed objects disappearing—classic signs of organized criminal activity. We need this stopped before it escalates further.”
Orion opened the folder, his expression turning serious as he skimmed the documents. The shift in his demeanor was startling; the playful smirk was gone, replaced by a sharp focus that hinted at why everyone seemed so in awe of him.
“Any leads on who’s behind it?” he asked, his voice calm and measured, though the faint accent Draco couldn’t place still clung to his words. No…wait, he could place it now. He was a transfer from Australia. Perhaps that was his accent, Australia?
“Not yet,” Thorne admitted. “That’s where you two come in. Malfoy knows the area better than most, and you—” He paused, studying Orion. “Well, you have the reputation to back this up.”
Orion grinned as Draco Huffed, rising to his feet. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
Orion stood as well, closing the folder and tucking it under his arm. His smirk had returned, though it was softer now, less mocking. “Looking forward to working with you, Malfoy.” He continued. Offering Draco a hand.
Malfoy shot him a sharp look, pushing past him to head for the door. He could still feel the man’s eyes on him as he walked, and it sent an uneasy prickle down his spine. He didn’t know whether to feel more annoyed by Orion’s smirk—or by the fact that it intrigued him.
Orion followed shortly after, disappearing down the corridor as Draco himself pretended to tie his shoe. He needed to speak to Thorne, it was surley some mistake that an apparent S tier Auror would be paired with him. He was still given the bottom pickings of cases. Left the crumbs to clean up while other Aurors took the big heroic cases.
Draco paced the narrow corridor as he waited for thorne to leave his office, his boots clicking against the stone floor. The meeting with Orion Veyne had left his nerves frayed and his pride bruised. The man was insufferable—too confident, too smug, too everything. Yet there was something about him that unsettled Draco more than he cared to admit.
Thorne stepped out of the briefing room soundless, shutting the door behind him. His expression was as unreadable as ever, his arms crossed as he observed Draco’s pacing.
“You’ve been sulking for five minutes, Malfoy. Care to share what’s got you so rattled?”
Draco stopped, spinning on his heel to face Thorne. “Why him?” he asked, voice sharp. “Why am I paired with him? You’ve got plenty of other Aurors who’d be better suited for this—Hell, anyone else would be better suited for this.”
Thorne raised an eyebrow, unfazed by Draco’s tone. “You don’t think you’re capable of handling the assignment?”
“It’s not about that,” Draco snapped. “I just don’t see the point of partnering me with some overhyped transfer.”
For the first time, Thorne’s expression softened, just slightly. Before he let out a heavy sigh. “You think I paired you with him for no reason?” Draco crossed his arms, his suspicion deepening. “I think you enjoy making my life difficult.”
Thorne sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Merlin help me. Malfoy, you’re paired with Veyne because he requested you.”
Draco froze, his brow furrowing. “He what?”
That cant be right. Why would Orion, a man that didn’t know him from a bar of soap. Would requesti him to work with.
“He specifically asked to work with you,” Thorne repeated, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “When I briefed him on the team, your name was the only one he seemed interested in. I didn’t ask why, and frankly, I don’t care. He’s one of the most talented Aurors I’ve ever seen, on par with Harry potter himself. and if he thinks you’re the right partner for this mission, I’m inclined to trust his judgment.”
Draco’s mind raced, sending a fresh wave of unease through him.
“Are you sure he didn’t mistake me for someone else?” Draco asked, his sarcasm failing to mask the genuine confusion in his voice.
Thorne gave him a flat look. One that said – im not that dense. “If you want answers, I suggest you ask him yourself. But until then, I suggest you stop questioning my decisions, stop pacing outside my door and do your job.”
With that, Thorne turned and walked away, leaving Draco standing alone in the corridor.
Draco stared at the closed door of the briefing room, his thoughts churning. Why would someone like Orion Veyne—confident, powerful, and clearly not the type to make idle decisions—go out of his way to request him?
The thought lingered like a puzzle he couldn’t solve, and for the first time in a long while, Draco felt truly unsettled.