Carey stands and stares at her, so it falls to PK to help her inside and say, "You can't hurt us in here, you know, there are protective spells a mile thick. Magically speaking."

She blinks at him through her tears. "I know. You're -"

"Abscondite nos," Carey says quickly. Green light leaps from his wand and races to cover the walls.

She nods at him. "Aurors. Thank you."

Now that she's inside, her shoulders are squared. She looks dignified, in spite of how dirty she is. "You're a witch," PK says.

"Without a wand." She smiles a little, bitterly. "Or a Galleon to my name."

"We can fix that," Carey says. "If you tell us what's going on."

"How much do you know about Le Schisme?"

"Mortimer's gang?" PK shrugs. "What all of the Aurors know. How much do you know?"

"Mortimer is powerful," she says. "Did you feel it? Could you?"

"We know it," Carey says. "I don't know about feeling it, though."

"No," PK says. "But my father can feel power, so I know it's possible. Professor Hefford, at Ontario, she could too."

She nods. "He's powerful," she says again. "That's not necessarily terrible, even for a criminal. It's how he gets his power. Please, can I sit down?"

PK feels like a real jerk. "Sure, of course," he says. He leads them out into the living room. She takes the only armchair, leaving PK and Carey to sit on the couch.

"Tell us how he gets his power," Carey says. The words aren't exactly kind, but his voice is low and gentle, and the woman doesn't look worried.

"He drains people," she says.

Three words, easily understood. There's nothing complicated about it, except - "That's impossible," PK says. "Magic isn't from one person, you can't quantify it. It's a force we all draw on, if that. The origins -"

"Aren't easily understood or traced," she says. She switches to English. "I went to the Ontario School of Magic as well."

"I didn't," Carey says with a slight smile.

"What Carey means is, explain. Please," PK adds, offering what he hopes is an encouraging smile.

She has to be wrong. It doesn't make sense otherwise.

"I don't know the spell," she says. "It's not Latin or French. But he finds people, vulnerable people, locks them up, and then..." She waves a pointed finger like a wand. "One at a time, every few days. It weakens them, makes it hard to resist, much less run away. Then he uses the power to control the others."

"You."

She blinks at Carey. "I'm sorry?"

"You mean he weakens you."

PK's kind of amazed by how Carey can say things that bluntly and sound like a nice, understanding person. The woman nods, then takes a shaky breath.

"That doesn't explain how you knew to come to us, though," Carey says.

"He was keeping me at La Nuit." She threads her hands together. "I...he doesn't know. It's not obvious. But I saw you a year ago." She nods at PK. "You were going into the Auror headquarters here. So I knew. And I cast a tracking spell. Just a tiny bit of magic, I could do it wandlessly. And I escaped - that's a long story. But that's how I know."

Carey blinks at PK. "You walk in?"

"There's a coffee shop across the street."

"So you walk in."

PK frowns. "Can we talk about this later?"

Carey looks ready to glare like it's his job, but he drops it. "Anyway," he says, looking back at the woman. "We'll need to make an incident report - what's your name?"

"Melissa."

"Melissa," Carey says, "we'll need to make an incident report, take your statement. You can stay here until we've heard back from the Auror's office, but we'll have to make a room up for you. Hidden, understand, since we're undercover."

"Of course," she says. "Please, may I shower?"

"In a warded bathroom, sure," Carey says. "PK?"

"Follow me," PK says, standing.

When they make it to the hallway, she says quietly, "Is he always so...?"

"Carey? He doesn't work with witnesses, usually." PK offers her a smile. "But he's a whiz at undercover stuff. We'll make sure you're safe. Don't worry."

"That spell. It would show if I was lying."

"It uncovers deceit," PK says, nodding.

"Good," she says. She shivers as they stop in front of the bathroom.

"Go on in," PK says. "There's a spare wand in the cabinet under the sink. Can you use it to clean your clothes?"

She nods. "Thank you."

"Don't thank us yet," PK says. "We're going to be handing you over to the Montreal Aurors. That's an ordeal."

"Still." She shrugs. "Thank you."

She goes into the bathroom without further comment. PK casts a couple concealing spells, then one to keep the house sealed, just in case. As he does it, Cat winds around his ankles.

"Hey, buds," he says, leaning down and picking Cat up. "Bad news, eh?"

Cat just purrs. If only PK had that luxury, he thinks, walking back out to the living room.

Carey's scowling at the far wall. "You don't like it," PK says, setting Cat down and sitting back on the couch. He doesn't need the curse to tell him that, though now that Melissa's done with her story, his awareness of it has ratcheted back up.

"I don't think she's lying, if that's what you mean," Carey says. "But -"

"I know," PK says. "It complicates things."

"Pretty fucking severely," Carey says.

"I know," PK says. "But we have to believe her, at least for now. We've both debriefed people before. If she's lying..."

"We'll know," Carey says. "Yeah. And then she'll try to kill us, with our luck."

PK shrugs. That's the job, and it would be comically stupid to tell Carey that.

"If she's not lying, it's even worse, in a way." Carey covers his eyes for a minute. "How," he says flatly, "the hell, did we not hear anything about this? Aren't we supposed to have intelligence investigating this stuff? First a turf war, now this, and none of it was in any of the files we looked at?"

PK doesn't have an answer, so he doesn't say anything.

"At least now we know what the real industry is," Carey says. "Locking people up and stealing their magic. That's a magical breakthrough buried in layers of absolute shit."

"Is it a breakthrough we want?" PK says.

Carey looks up at him. Complicated, impossible to untangle feelings are raging in the curse between them. PK's pretty sure at least some of them are his, no matter how hard he's trying to stay calm.

"No," Carey says finally. "Definitely not."

"Kind of what I was thinking," PK says. "We need to report to Martin."

Carey nods at the sheet of parchment on the table. "Parchment and everything," he says. "She can't stay with us long."

PK's not going to voice any doubt; he's not going to say what he worries, which is that Martin will make them babysit her rather than taking her in and questioning her the way any Auror station that has it together would. But judging by the look Carey gives him, he's not really keeping it locked down.

Carey gets up wordlessly and puts the parchment in the transfer tray. It disappears; PK sighs and sits down. "What are we going to do?" he asks the table.

"Our jobs," Carey says grimly.

"Would you like to take my statement now?" Melissa says from the doorway.

PK looks at her in surprise. Her hair is dry, her clothes freshly cleaned.

"I have siblings, and we had one bathroom," Melissa says. She sits down at the table. "I'm willing to be questioned."

"It's kind of suspicious how calm you are," PK says.

She gives him a level, measured look. "I'm pretty sure I'm in shock."

Carey glances, obviously and meaningfully, down at her hand. She's clutching the spare wand, knuckles white. Her hand isn't shaking, but PK suddenly suspects that's sheer force of will.

"Shock or not, we should take your statement," Carey says. He grabs a pen and a notebook from the counter and sits down opposite her, next to PK. He taps the pen with his wand, and it goes upright, quivering with the spell.

"Ready?" Carey says.

Melissa nods.

"Go," Carey tells the pen, then says, "Why don't we start with how you met Mortimer?"

"I didn't," Melissa says. "I mean - I did, eventually. But I didn't fall into bad company, or anything. I was kidnapped."

"You don't seem like a person someone might get the jump on," Carey says mildly.

"I don't now. I've been - I was - there for almost a year." She shrugs. "So I was grabbed a year ago, in August. I was locked in that cage for all of it. I don't know where it was; it's Unplottable, I think. Mortimer came in, took my magic, and left, about twice a week."

She's speaking flatly now, and PK wishes he knew what to do in this kind of situation. He says, "I'm sorry."

She shrugs. "Not your fault."

"What my partner means is, we're going to bring him to justice."

Carey normally sounds really dry, PK thinks. Not that he has a problem with it - it's just how Carey is, and PK really likes Carey, so he really likes how dry Carey is. But now he sounds earnest, serious, like PK's really never heard him sound before. It occurs to him that Carey chose to go into being an Auror just like PK did, and maybe PK hasn't thought about what that means, when most of the time Carey's lying and living dangerously to bring people to justice.

"We will," he says quickly. It seems appropriate.

"Thank you," she says. She looks at the pen. "I can draw the object he used, if you want. And if you can record me, I can attempt to reproduce the spell."

PK was going to suggest the latter, and the former's a good idea if she can draw at all, so they get her the materials she requested and sit while she speaks the spell several times and draws a pendant made of twisting snakes. It's all pretty dramatic - PK doesn't know the language the spell is in, either - but it's also consistent enough that PK's now positive Melissa's telling the truth.

That makes it suck even harder when, as Melissa's wrapping it up, they get a message back from headquarters. In Martin's handwriting, it says, "Resources can't be spared. Keep her with you."

PK takes a very deep breath, because now is no time to get mad. Carey doesn't. He crumples up the parchment and throws it violently into the trash, breathing hard, hands clenched. It's not actually that dramatic a response, which is kind of a surprise to PK, because he's getting blind rage through the bond, like being poked with a live wire.

"We have to keep our heads," PK says.

Carey gives him a poisonous look. "I am," he says.

Then PK watches a transformation that's honestly more amazing than Polyjuice. Carey's shoulders relax, and his hands uncurl. His eyes get less crazy, and he breathes deeply before saying, "We keep going. That's all we can do," and going back out to the kitchen to talk to Melissa.

She doesn't have much else to say. PK knows plenty about shock, and he can tell she's going to crash hard soon. Carey gets her a glass of firewhiskey after breaking the news and says, "This is a three-bedroom house. PK and I are going to make your room as secure as we can, but we can't guarantee anything."

"Thanks for not beating around the bush." She sounds like she means it, even. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"We don't want evidence of your magic in the spells," Carey says.

She flicks her wand. "I can hide it."

"What did you say you did, before?" PK can't help but say.

She raises her eyebrows at him. "I worked for a private company specializing in magical artifacts."

So, curse-breaking. Okay. PK trusts her to know her stuff, then. "Great. Let's go."

Putting up the protection spells and the confounding spells isn't that hard. Melissa works with a single-minded passion, putting both Carey and PK almost to shame with the inventive twists of the redirection spells she casts. When Carey looks surprised, she says, "I was very good at my job. And I waited until he was about to come to drain me, so I'd have magic left."

"It's interesting that it regenerates," Carey says.

"Sure," PK says. "When we're done with all this we can write an academic paper."

Carey snorts. "Can't wait."

"Do you mind if I ask you what your plan is?" Melissa says.

They look at her. She looks back, expression unreadable.

"Insinuate ourselves," PK says after a minute. "Capture Mortimer. Bring him to justice."

"He has more magic than both of you combined."

"Which we just learned today," Carey says. "We'll figure out a way to deal with it. Give us a day or two."

"I can't do much else," she says. "I'd like to sleep now, if that's all right."

"Sure," PK says. "Sleep well."

He and Carey leave. When they get to their room, they just kind of stare at each other. PK feels Cat winding her way around his ankles; Lacey is sleeping at the foot of the bed. It's almost like they're an actual couple, PK thinks stupidly. He doesn't even know if he has feelings about that.

"We have to keep working," Carey says finally. "This is still the beginning of our assignment. It could take a long time, and - we have to keep going."

"You said that already," PK says. "And I know, really, I do. There's nothing else we can do."

"Right," Carey says. "Sucks, but there it is."

PK nods. "There it is," he says.

Carey sighs, then says, "Right now we should sleep. Something tells me Mortimer's going to turn up the heat tomorrow."

"No more spelling tiny pills?"

"Maybe," Carey says. "At least we'll get paid."

"That was a gamble."

"Worth it." Carey takes a step forward, then stops, blinking at PK. "So," he says, "let's go."

He says it so nonchalantly that PK almost believes he's unaffected. PK nods and gets into bed, casting small protection spells - to comfort himself as much as anything else - before he puts his wand aside.

He wakes up the next morning with Carey curled around him. It's happened a few times, and PK tries not to read into it; it's really no big deal, having Carey's hand on his chest, their legs tangled together. PK can't help but stare down at him kind of stupidly, though; his expression is all soft, since he's sleeping, and PK wants to keep touching him so badly it's hard to remember all the reasons why that's a horrible idea.

It's even more difficult when Carey rubs his hand over PK's chest a little and makes a low noise in the back of his throat, sounding completely content. He smiles a little, a slow curve of his lips that has PK swallowing and tightening his hand on Carey's shoulder a little - and then Carey wakes up.

The transition is complete in the blink of an eye. He goes from completely asleep to awake and alert, moving away from PK. "Good morning," he says.

No amount of quick reactions can make his voice less gravelly. "Good morning," PK says in response. He feels like an idiot. At least he's not really hard. "Want first shower?"

"Yeah," Carey says, and practically runs to the bathroom. It occurs to PK too late that what he was feeling was Carey's dick, because he was hard.

They didn't mention this in Auror training at all.

PK rubs a hand over his eyes and then gets up, going downstairs. He doesn't really understand Carey, even with the curse making their emotions available to each other; but this isn't an assignment for them to get to know each other. They're impersonating drug dealers, Dark wizards who are perfectly fine with feeding magic to unsuspecting Muggles. On a scale of one to catching Mortimer, understanding what's up with Carey doesn't even rate a mention.

Carey comes down and pours a massive mug of coffee, not looking at PK. PK thinks about saying something, but he's not really sure what he could possibly say. And on top of that, Carey's staring at a wall in a way that means he's determined to be stoic and slip into his Dark wizard persona without any input from PK at all. So finally PK just pours out the cold dregs of his coffee and goes upstairs to take his own shower.

When he comes down, Melissa's sitting at the kitchen table, scratching behind Lacey's ears, and Carey's nowhere to be found. "Hey," PK says.

"Hi," Melissa says. "Carey's outside, trimming the hedges. Well, that's what he says, anyway. I know he wants to go to the store with you. He mentioned you can't separate, as part of the case, and that you'll be leaving around five tonight."

She says it all in a smooth, quick voice, but her eyes are sharp as she looks at PK. PK's pretty sure she knows there's something up with them not being able to separate, but if Carey's decided not to tell her, then PK's going to follow his lead on that one.

That doesn't mean he can't try to reach out to the witness who will, hopefully, help them convict Mortimer. "Thanks," he says. The coffee pot is full again, so he grabs his mug from the counter and pours another cup. "How are you settling in?"

"Seriously?"

PK opens his eyes wide as he sits across from her, hoping he looks appealingly pitiful. "Come on, throw me a bone here. I know there's not much to settle into, but..."

Her expression softens. "It's better," she says. "Screaming nightmares aside, I mean."

"Sorry," PK says, feeling suddenly awkward.

"It's pretty comprehensively not your fault," she points out. "And anyway - I worked to get free, and managed to escape to you guys. I could've done a lot worse."

"And they won't find you," PK says. "This house is spelled all over, and on top of that, there's your room."

She nods, but she looks a little troubled.

"What's up?" PK says.

"I'm not sure I'm completely secure," she says.

"We can't cast Fidelus," PK says. "There's a chance they'll realize we've done it, and neither of us - I mean, that kind of thing can be tortured out of you."

"I know," she says. "I'm as hidden as I can be. I'm sorry, I didn't intend to ask for anything else. It's just...an adjustment, after being locked up for so long."

"I know," PK says. On impulse, he leans forward and slowly covers one of her hands with his. "We're going to keep you safe." He's not great with words, but he tries to make it obvious that he really means it. She deserves that, and PK got into being an Auror because he wanted to make things better for people.

Behind him, someone clears his throat. "Am I interrupting something?" Carey says.

He manages to make those four words sound more sarcastic than a librarian when you spill food on a roll of parchment. PK stands up quickly. "No," he says, feeling guilty for no real reason at all. "Um, there's more coffee."

"I know," Carey says. "I'm the one who spelled it to make it."

A contrast to PK's traditional hand-making. Well, as traditional as a fancy coffee machine can be, anyway. PK ignores Carey's sarcasm for the moment, going to fill up Carey's mug again.

"We need to have a game plan for tonight," Carey says, sitting down at the table. He nods at Melissa as PK sets his mug down.

"Spelling objects, get paid," PK says. "Do we need something beyond that?"

"I said I think Mortimer's going to make a move," Carey says. "At the least, he'll probably be tense, what with Melissa's escape."

"Are you worried about us hiding that we know about it?"

Carey shakes his head. "You're good at that part of undercover." While PK's deciding if that's an insult or not, Carey adds, "Mostly I think we should capitalize on it. Offer to do search parties if he lets it slip, do a bit of our fancier location magic. Nothing to actually reveal her, but -"

"Mortimer might bring us in on the secret, right," PK says. "I guess it's too much to hope that we'll get to see his magic storage artifact."

"We'll probably be too busy enchanting vases to poison wizards' water supplies," Carey says. "But we'll see."

"How often have you done this?" Melissa says, eyes on Carey.

"Spelled Dark objects? A few times."

"I meant worked undercover," Melissa says. "But the Dark objects is an interesting detail, too. My line of work encounters a lot of those."

"You've probably never broken one of my curses," Carey says.

"No, I don't suppose I would have." Melissa taps one finger on the table.

PK looks between the two of them, unsure of what to do about the thick tension in both the air and the curse bond.

"Anyway," Carey says, and there's a knock on the door.

PK springs to his feet before either of them even reacts. "I'll get it!" he says brightly. Melissa nods and gets up, taking her coffee mug with her to her room.

PK waits until the door is closed and has vanished into the wall to open the door. He's expecting a paperboy, maybe, or some sort of salesperson. What he gets is a strange man with a long beard.

"How can I help you?" PK says in French, trying for bright and clueless.

"That depends," the man says. "How are you offering to help me? I don't doubt your capability, but -"

"Come inside," PK tells Hal, stepping aside.

Hal, Polyjuiced but still unreasonably tall, comes inside. He pulls out his wand and says, "Dévoiler," tapping a wall with his wand.

"French magic?" Carey says, coming into the foyer as the interlaced spells covering the house flare up into visibility.

"When in Rome," Hal says. He switches to English. "You two are doing well so far?"

"Fine," PK says. He's itching to tell Hal about Melissa, but he also knows that could get them in deep shit back at headquarters, and Hal might've been his mentor, but -

"I saw the report you sent Martin," Hal says.

PK deflates in relief. "Oh, good."

"I won't waste my time on discussing the various ways in which he disappoints as a station commander," Hal says, "but can we at least sit down in your living room? Get the girl, too."

"I'm not exactly a girl," Melissa says from the hallways, "and the house is full of listening charms, which you should know." She goes into the living room - carrying, PK notices, Cat.

"Charming woman," Hal says, and walks past PK and Carey.

"So," he says. He doesn't look anything like himself, really - he's got dark, dark brown hair and really pale skin, with no stubble or freckles to be seen - but his eyes are still pure Hal. "What are you planning to do about this situation?"

"Wait it out," PK says. He's a little surprised that Carey doesn't even try to speak, but then, they both know that Hal was PK's mentor. Still is, in a lot of ways. "There's not much else we can do."

"That's true enough," Hal says. "You're not going to try to use her for leverage?"

"I won't be used for leverage," Melissa says. "Their original plan was to turn me over to your Auror office, but that didn't work out so well."

Hal nods. "I can't defend that," he says. His tone changes when he looks directly at her, becoming contrite. "I am sorry."

Melissa shrugs. "There's nothing to be done. But using me for leverage won't help, not with someone like Mortimer."

"He'd just tear the place apart to get her," PK says. "And we'd be back where we started. Also - the report isn't exactly comprehensive, it turns out."

"Do tell," Hal says.

Before PK can continue, though, Carey says, "Are you here on the authority of the Montreal Aurors?"

"Absolutely," Hal says. "Martin is sensitive to your situation."

"That's a no, then," Carey says.

Hal nods.

"Okay, good," PK says. "Because the lack of support -"

"I know," Hal says. "Tell me what's going on. That's why I'm here."

PK starts explaining, and when he gets to Melissa's escape, Melissa herself jumps in. Carey mostly stays quiet, but between PK and Melissa, they get a decent description up. Hal listens mostly in silence, occasionally interrupting to ask for clarification, but mostly just letting them explain. When they finish, he sighs and says, "Well. You're in deep shit, aren't you?"

"A succinct summary," Carey says.

Melissa says, "They haven't broken trust with Mortimer's group."

"The mission was to keep Mortimer and company from smuggling Death Eaters," Hal says. "They've gone a bit off course."

"It's not exactly our fault," PK says. "I don't know what Martin was thinking, but -"

"Careful," Hal says. "I wouldn't put it past him to have this place bugged."

"We would've found it," Carey says. "But it's true that it doesn't do much good to talk about it."

That's so classically Carey that PK almost rolls his eyes. "Either way," PK says, "we need to just go to Liam's place and do our best to act competent. Mortimer's desperate for people to trust, and he's more than easy when it comes to people being accepted to his inner circle. There's no reason we can't use that, leverage it and make it work for us."

"Leverage again," Hal says. "That's pretty much the opposite of what you typically have, doing an undercover assignment like this."

PK shrugs. "We have to at least try. That's what you taught me, anyway."

"True enough," Hal says. "Well, I'll admit I'm surprised, but it seems you have the situation pretty well in hand."

"You're surprised?" Carey says.

"I am," Hal says. "Is that a problem?"

Carey shrugs.

Hal eyes him for a second, then turns to PK. "I'm not going to give you any marching orders. But here." He pulls a ring out of his pocket and passes it over to PK. "It's a Portkey, de-activated for now. If you activate it, it'll take you to my safe house. The only person who knows about it is my wife - the three of you will be safe there."

"Hal," PK says, because he doesn't know what else he can say. He never expected this, not when they're undercover.

Hal takes a swig from a flask; by his grimace, it's Polyjuice. "I have to go soon," he says. "I don't want to have more than two hours of this trash in me, and anyway, it's not the least suspicious thing in the world. Think up a story to tell Mortimer's gang if he asks, and be sure you keep communicating with Martin. He doesn't give two shits about your reports, but I'm there and I'll be keeping an eye out."

"Thank you," Carey says quietly.

"You're welcome," Hal says. He stands up. "I'll let myself out," he says, and leaves.

"Well," Carey says into the silence that follows.

"Not much to say to that, is there?" Melissa says.

"We can only keep doing our best," PK says. "That's what Hal would want. That's what we should do."

"You have a lot of faith in him," Carey says.

"He's awesome," PK says. "And he knows his stuff."

Carey nods. "He's also right. We need a contact in the Aurors, and I'm pretty sure Martin has written us off. Keep that ring on you, would you?"

PK slips it on his finger. "I will."

Carey surprises him by reaching out and touching his ring. He strokes his fingers over it, brushing against PK's skin. PK does his best to lock down what he feels, but he knows from Carey's look that he's not completely successful.

He should look away, back down, do something to indicate to Carey that he's not trying to be - how he is. But he feels trapped into staring back, until Carey lets go.

"I can feel the magic in it," he says. "Mortimer will be able to, too."

"May I see it?" Melissa says, holding out her hand.

PK thinks she could probably technically use it to escape, but there wouldn't be much of a point - and anyway, it would only take her to Hal's. He passes it over.

"Thank you," she says. She holds it in one flat palm, touching her wand to it with her other hand. "Hmm."

"What?" PK says.

"It's just interesting," she says. "The composition of the ring - I think I can lay a spell on it to make it look like your average Muggleborn-cursing ring."

Which means PK will have to wear something that makes him look like he hates Muggleborns. That really shouldn't even be a problem, considering the nature of this assignment, but he still grimaces after Melissa taps the ring a couple times and passes it back to him.

"Thanks," he makes himself say, putting it back on.

Her expression indicates she understands, but all she says is, "You're welcome."

They separate after that, which PK thinks is probably for the best. He doesn't have a lot to say, and he doesn't want to distract Melissa when she's very obviously still healing. Carey's busy getting into character, and PK himself, well.

Abandonment shouldn't hurt. PK can't feel a lot of hurt coming from Carey, only a kind of grim understanding of the situation, overlaid by a lack of surprise. PK feels like an idiot in comparison, knowing he's broadcasting hurt and incapable of locking it down the way he feels he should be able to.

The problem is pretty simple. He went into the Auror offices every weekday for three and a half years. He knows the archives in and out; he has his bulletin board, his favorite coffee-making spell. He knows the archivists and people on the Magical Artifacts squad, the murder investigators and the Unspeakable liaisons. Even though he always sort of knew Montreal wasn't nearly as good as the other Auror offices in Canada, it was his office, and he loved it.

Loved it, not loves it, because he can't ignore this level of betrayal even if he wants to.

At the end of the day, though, there's really nothing to be done about it. Even if Martin doesn't want to devote resources to supporting them, they still have an assignment. If they leave it, at best they'll never see the field again, and PK's coming to realize he likes doing this. He likes not being stuck behind a desk. So to be able to keep doing that, he has to just accept this situation, and do his best to do well in it.

Or, at the very least, survive it.

Liam greets them at the door when they head to the location. It's a diner, supposedly, but as soon as PK and Carey enter, they see the façade. The actual room is a wide, steel-reinforced room with rows of benches and tables. Carey casually taps his wand against the wall, and they see the spells lighting up.

PK squints at them. They're reinforced with runes, which is definitely not unheard of, but which also makes sense, if they're constantly working on Dark objects. "This is where we make necklaces that strangle people in their sleep, eh?"

"This is where you work for Mortimer," Liam says.

That's a weird phrasing. PK does his best to look innocent-bordering-on-stupid and says, "Well, that's all we want! Pushing pills, man, that's so much less cool than...all of this." He waves a hand.

"What Jake is trying to say," Carey says, sarcasm drawing out the syllables, "is that we're more than happy to curse whatever objects you want."

"Excellent," Liam says. "The scroll over there contains the spell. These are the objects." He summons a shoebox-sized chest and opens them up.

"Toy rings?" PK says, looking at them.

"To be loaded in vending machines," Liam says. "And before you get snotty, consider what a modified Imperius can do to children's buying power with their parents, as they're entering stores."

It's kind of horrifying, PK thinks, putting even a modified version of Imperius on Muggle children. But Martin was pretty strict about needing to stay undercover, and in the long run, they're going to be helping. "Great," he says. He takes the chest from Liam and brings it over to one of the tables. The metal bench is cold when he sits down. "Can you grab the spell, Kev?"

Carey does, going and sitting next to PK. "You'll need to study it for awhile," Liam says. "If you need to use the facilities, well. Figure a way out of this room." He smirks and then Apparates.

"Something tells me if we tried to Apparate, it would end badly," PK says.

"Something tells me you're right," Carey says. "Let's get to work, though. No sense in wasting our time on pleasantries when there's work to be done."

He smiles coldly. PK has to restrain himself from shivering; Carey's really good at this. Instead, he turns away and studies the parchment.

The modified Imperius is actually a complex layer of compulsion spells that all work from Imperius's theory. Like the pills, it's hard work that PK gets easily drawn into, even knowing how screwed up all of this is. Time passes, and passes, and it's not until Liam Apparates inside and says, "It's almost dawn," that PK realizes his legs are half-numb and the metal-coated walls are slowly warming up.

Keyed to outside, then. PK tries not to think about what else this room might be used for. "Thanks," he says, standing.

"We finished twenty each," Carey says, also standing. He'd gotten up to walk around a few times; the twinges in PK's back tell him he should've done the same. PK tends to get focused on stuff, though.

"You can leave, then," Liam says. "You're keyed to be able to Apparate in and out now." He smiles narrowly. "We'll see you tomorrow at the same time, gentlemen."

When they Apparate back to the house, Melissa's nowhere to be seen. The protective spells are still up, though, and intact around the closed door of her room; PK assumes she's sleeping. He and Carey wordlessly go back into their room.

Once they've secured the area, PK says, "Wow."

"It's not as sinister as I would've expected," Carey says.

"Are you serious? Objects that compel kids, that's plenty Dark."

Carey looks perturbed, but he only says, "Yeah, you're not wrong." He sits down and pulls his boots off, then unbuttons his robes.

"He trusts us more," PK says. "I think we're going to meet the other bosses soon."

Carey looks mildly interested, along with exhausted. "Yeah?"

PK nods, getting into his pajamas. "Mortimer doesn't trust anyone, but if he keeps moving us up the food chain this quickly, he's going to have to bring the others in on it. I don't think they even know about him stealing magic, or at least, they don't know what spell he uses. But getting close to them can still be helpful. If they watch Mortimer doing it..."

"We can Polyjuice if we have to," Carey says, nodding. "Good thinking."

"Thanks," PK says. He flops down into bed. "Ugh."

"Get under the covers," Carey says, and follows his own advice.

PK grumbles, but he slides under them. The house is air conditioned enough that he'll probably be cold, otherwise. He curls up - luckily, facing away from Carey, so Carey can't see PK's surprise when he presses his back along PK's.

PK wants so much. He's keeping it on lockdown and he thinks he's mostly succeeding; he's just getting a kind of tense confusion from Carey. The curse doesn't matter, really; they haven't used it much, except maybe to cue each other once or twice when dealing with surprises. PK knows the more he thinks about it, the weirder it gets, so he tries to direct his thoughts to what he's going to do in a couple months, when they can lock Mortimer and his lackeys up, and take a vacation. Maybe he'll hang out with Carey, but he thinks he'll go back home for a bit, talk to his parents and hang out with his siblings. Most of them are still in Toronto, and it'll be awesome, he thinks, awesome and comforting, and not confusing or lonely at all.

He wakes up at noon, just as Carey's rolling out of bed. "Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes and smiling up at Carey. "Get enough sleep?"

"Sure," Carey says. He looks away from PK. "You?"

"Slept like a baby," PK says.

"I think Melissa made coffee," Carey says.

"Ooh, awesome." PK rolls upright and grabs a sweatshirt. "I'll be out in a minute," he calls after Carey, who's already disappearing down the hall.

Carey has a mug waiting for him when he gets out to the kitchen - and Melissa's sitting on the table, sketching something. PK takes a look at it. "Mortimer's magical object?"

"I'm pretty sure the structure is key to the spell," Melissa says. "If I can reproduce it, that's better for all of us."

"It's a noble goal," Carey says.

Melissa looks at him. "And you don't think I can do it."

"I think it'd be hard for anyone."

"Magical artifacts," Melissa reminds him, and goes back to sketching.

PK watches as she sketches, filling in lines and shadowing. Something about the stylized triangles rings a bell, but he has no idea why or what it might be. It might come to him later, but right now, he knows he's not going to get any answers.

They sip their coffee in silence. A few times, PK gets a kind of troubled thinking coming through the curse, and he glances at Carey. Carey's looking at him each time. When PK blinks at him, he scowls and looks away.

When they finish their coffee, PK says, "Carey, want to go to the store? We're out of eggs."

"Eat something first," Carey says.

PK frowns. "I'm fine," he says in a tone he knows his mother would call whining.

"You need to eat," Carey says.

"He's right," Melissa says. "Also, if you make some toast, can I have some?"

PK scowls at them. Melissa smiles back, looking unrepentant, along with surprisingly composed, for someone who was kept in a cage for a year.

"Oh, fine," PK says. He gets up. "You want anything?" he asks Carey.

"Maybe some fruit," Carey says. "A sandwich. You know."

"You're an asshole," PK says, but he gets busy making brunch for them.

They all eat together, and it feels weirdly domestic for the time it takes Melissa to finish sketching. Then she says, "I'm going to try some spells on this. I'll be in my room if you need me," and leaves quickly.

PK's a little confused. He figured things were going well. "What was that about?"

Carey shrugs. "She's traumatized. It happens."

His easy acceptance of it is weird. But then, PK reminds himself, Carey knows about these kinds of things. "Sure," PK says. "Okay. Just..."

"You're doing fine," Carey says quietly. He takes a bite of his sandwich, keeping his eyes on the table. "If you were doing something wrong with her, I'd tell you. In the field you get a lot of this. But you really are doing fine, okay?"

He says it kind of defensively, like having this conversation is everything he wishes he could be not doing. PK guesses that makes sense. "Okay. Thanks," he says slowly, turning everything over in his head.

Carey, to PK's shock, reaches out and pats PK's shoulder. Then he takes his now-empty plate to the sink. "Hurry up," Carey says. His back is to PK, so PK's surprised by the affection he can feel from Carey, deep and pretty amazingly solid. "I can't go to the store without you, and we need eggs, remember?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," PK says. He jams his feet into shoes and pats his pocket to make sure he has his wand, before grabbing his coat. He actually beats Carey out of the door, a fact he feels pretty smug about it.

Being in a Muggle neighborhood means they have to drive to the store, but PK doesn't mind. He hops into the driver's seat before Carey has a chance to protest; not, he thinks as Carey slumps his way into the passenger's seat, that he thinks Carey would. He taps the car with his wand to start it and drives them to the store in silence, not even bothering to turn on the radio.

"So," Carey says as they walk across the parking lot. He's switched to French, and it occurs to PK that they might be being watched. "Eggs. What else?"

"Um," PK says. "Bread, some kind of meat, maybe? And..." He frowns.

Carey rolls his eyes. "I'll get it," he says, grabbing a basket as they enter the store.

PK's more than happy to follow Carey, watching as Carey tosses stuff into the basket. They finish quickly enough that the car's still pretty warm when they get back to it.

"This is great," PK says as they check the backseats and climb into the car. He starts the car again. "I should have you grocery shop for me all the time."

Carey glances at him sharply, but PK just pulls out of their parking spot. It's not like he said anything that could get them caught, and it's a good point.

"I have better things to do than shop for you," Carey says finally.

PK grins. "Nah," he says. "I don't think you do, Mr. No-Life."

"Mr. No-Life? That's the best you can do?"

"Stings, eh? The truth usually does."

"Shut the fuck up," Carey says. But when PK glances at him, he's smiling.

They work for Mortimer again that night, spelling magical objects in the creepy metal room. PK thought being undercover would be more exciting than this, really. They're basically assembly line workers, and while the work is technical and specialized, layering the spells is really repetitive and boring. Normally PK would ask Carey's opinion about hockey or something, but he's pretty sure that doesn't really fit with their characters, and absolutely sure Carey would glare at him if he tried. So instead he casts spells and tries not to think about Melissa, and Mortimer's magic-stealing, and their office abandoning them to this job while simultaneously threatening to fire them if they don't do it well enough.

Yeah, he's definitely not thinking about that at all.

When the sun comes up, Liam lets them go again. They do exactly what they did the morning before, right down to PK telling himself he's not allowed to wrap himself around Carey no matter how much he wants to.

He wakes up in the middle of the day, because Carey's tossing and turning, leg kicking PK persistently. "Carey?" PK says, trying to clear the sleep from his mind.

Carey doesn't say anything, but he does roll onto his back. PK blinks and grabs his wand, whispering, "Lumos."

Carey's mouth is a hard line, his hands balled into fists on top of the covers. As PK watches, he shudders, his whole body shaking.

Shit. PK leans down and cups his shoulder, shaking gently. "Carey. Carey, wake up."

Carey doesn't react, but a second later, before PK even pulls his hand away, he says, "No. No, no," shaking his head, expression contorting.

Fuck it. "Carey," PK says loudly, shaking Carey hard. "Carey, wake up."

Carey flails and knocks PK's hand away. His fist comes up, and PK dodges it at the last minute, but his wand falls to the bed. A minute later, Carey's thrashing has covered his wand with a sheet, so the light is incredibly dim. And Carey's still swinging, blind and asleep.

"Carey!" PK says again. On impulse, he shoves a wake up! through the curse, clutching Carey's shoulders as he does it.

Carey's eyes open. He looks afraid and wild with it, and his mouth is working open and shut, soundlessly, as he stares at PK.

PK doesn't know what to say. Finally he settles on, "Hey, buddy. You were having a nightmare. You okay?"

Carey doesn't answer. He blinks once, then again, and then leans up and grabs the back of PK's head. The light from PK's wand, still trapped in the sheets, is dim, but bright enough for PK to make out Carey's complete lack of an expression.

Then Carey's kissing him.

PK reacts instantly, because the pull of Carey kissing him, the feeling of it in the curse, is something that he just doesn't have it in him to resist. But then reality comes crashing back in and he says, "Wait, no, stop," pulling away.

Carey freezes, watching him.

"It's okay," PK manages to say, reaching out and stroking Carey's cheek. He feels like he's going to fly into pieces and wants to smack himself for ending the kiss, because the urge to reach out and make Carey feel better, to help him and kiss him and fucking keep him, is almost more than he can bear. But Carey's - PK swallows. Carey's upset, and he's confused, and that's why he kissed PK. PK's not going to take advantage of that.

After a long, tense moment, Carey nods. "Thanks," he says in a raspy voice, then rolls over, away from PK.

Good, PK tells himself. He grabs his wand, whispering, "Nox."

They'll deal with what just happened when they've had some sleep, he tells himself. He closes his eyes, forcing himself to calm down, making his breathing steady and even.

He falls asleep after that, too exhausted to do anything else. He dreams about Carey holding him, fingers digging into his shoulders, kissing him like he's never wanted to do anything else, and like he'll never let PK go.

Carey's gone when PK wakes up in the early afternoon. That's not exactly a surprise; what is a surprise is Carey's note, made of glowing blue letters and hanging in the air. "We have the day off."

"Awesome," PK tells the far wall. He could complain about Carey, but then, he's not far enough away that they're collapsing in pain. So, he thinks, it could be worse.

He hops out of bed, showers, and goes downstairs. Melissa's in the living room, along with -

PK blinks. "Is that liquid metal?"

"Mercury," she says. "Oh, calm down," she adds when PK takes a step back. "I've got it under five separate spells. It's not dangerous."

She's moving her wand over it in complex patterns, and it's sort of writhing under her wand, floating in midair. It's far from the strangest thing PK's ever seen, but what makes it as strange as it is is mostly Melissa's expression. She looks calm, like she didn't spend half of yesterday locked in her room. PK's not sure how he feels about that.

"Okay," PK finally says. "I'm gonna go eat breakfast."

"Carey's in the study," she calls after him.

"Carey is his own man," he calls back, and grabs the hard-won eggs from the refrigerator. He eats breakfast alone, without bothering to let Carey know he's up. Either Carey will figure it out from the curse or not, and PK...PK feels weird about it.

And then, of course, he feels weird for feeling weird about it. Things happen when on an undercover assignment, and Carey's been on a lot of them. It stands to reason that he'd have some bad experiences. PK would ask him about them, but he knows Carey won't want to talk about it; so really there's nothing to be done but to just keep his head up and hope things are normal whenever he sees Carey again.

He's finished his eggs and has done the dishes by the time Carey comes into the kitchen. "Melissa's busy making the house a biohazard," he says.

"She says it's protected."

"Do you buy it?" Carey grabs an apple from the bowl on the table, biting into it.

Carey's hot; that's not news. He looks away. "Yeah," PK says. "I mean, she's working on replicating that Mortimer thing, which we really need. So."

Carey nods. "Makes sense."

PK offers him a smile. "How are -"

"Don't," Carey says sharply.

PK blinks, but he nods quickly. "Yeah, totally. Okay. Anyway, we should..."

"Rest," Carey says when PK doesn't provide him with anything.

"Sorry?"

"Rest," Carey says. "We need it."

"I'm rested."

"Sure," Carey says. "Only, it's about to get a lot harder. So you need to rest."

He looks weirdly determined. PK has a pretty strong feeling there's no point in fighting him, so he says, "Sure, okay," and wanders out into the living room, deliberately nonchalant.

He hangs out for the rest of the day, not doing much of anything - mostly because everything he can think of to do would bring him in contact with Carey in some way. He tells himself he's giving Carey space, and he is, mostly. It's possible he's also a little worried about how he feels, but there's nothing he can really do about that, so he does his best not to keep thinking about it.

Melissa goes to bed early, not saying much to either of them. PK has vague ideas of getting her some kind of therapy - something, he can't help but think, that would be easier with the support of the Montreal Aurors office. But maybe it can still be done, with careful planning. He'll have to talk to Carey about it sometime.

He doesn't do it that night, though. He stays up until 3 and then goes to bed, already tired despite the fact that he woke up around noon. He's drowsing when Carey joins him, stripped down to his boxers and radiating heat like he always does. Summers in Montreal aren't as warm as they could be, PK knows, but they're warm enough that PK just had a sheet up over his shoulders. Now, he has to resist the urge to curl into Carey.

"You could use a blanket," Carey mutters, sounding sullen.

"I know," PK whispers back.

He doesn't say anything else. Carey, apparently, gets the point; he falls silent, and soon PK's drifting off to sleep again.

Nothing dramatic happens in the morning. PK's kind of hoping for it - it would be nice to be able to break through this uneasy silence they have going, if nothing else. But nothing happens at all, and eventually PK has to admit to himself that maybe nothing is going to happen. Maybe the kissing was just a blip on the radar - a traumatized blip, in Carey's case, which makes PK feel like an awful person. He eats his breakfast while resolving to let it go, not to make a thing of it. Carey deserves that much. PK cares about him; PK's not going to make this painful.

When they go to Liam's later that night, PK realizes he's almost gotten used to this whole incredibly depressing room thing. He sits next to Carey on the metal bench, pulls out his bag of assorted objects, and begins weaving the appropriate spells.

An hour passes. PK breaks the silence, mostly because he's a little worried he's going crazy, by saying, "More lucrative than pushing pills, eh?"

"Appropriate for wizards of our stature," Carey says.

PK's not sure what that means, unless Carey means "not old and white and British", which is a fair point. PK says, "Yep," and they go back to casting spells.

Then, maybe two hours in, Carey holds up his wand and says, "Stop."

PK does, immediately. It's not until his hands have frozen that he realizes Carey didn't actually say anything; it was just an overwhelming order and impulse that he got through the curse bond. That's great, PK thinks, doing his best not to panic.

Carey raises his wand a little more, then mouths a spell. A barely-there sound from beyond the door amplifies -

"Don't act like it. They act like strangers. How can we be sure?" a stranger is saying.

"They're good," Liam growls. "You wanna just throw that away on a hunch?"

"Hunches can save lives," the stranger says.

PK realizes their voices are getting closer as PK grabs him, both their wands clattering to the metal floor. Carey kisses him, tugging his lip with his teeth and shoving a hand into the back of his pants to cup his ass.

PK will probably be embarrassed about his squeak later, but this is Carey kissing him; who can blame him for being surprised? He waves his hands helplessly, then grabs Carey's arms. Carey's kissing and kissing him, and PK can't help but respond; it feels so good, and also there's the small matter of desperation coming from his and Carey's curse. So PK kisses back, and even as Liam comes into the room, he's pulling Carey more firmly against him as they both get hard.

"Excuse me," Liam says. His voice is silky, almost threatening. PK wonders, as they pull apart, if this isn't too on the nose. But then, that's the kind of thing he has Carey for. "I didn't realize we'd be...interrupting anything."

PK realizes Carey's game as Carey starts talking. "Well, with you two doubting us, how could I not?" Carey says. "I'm not sure what else we could do to convince you, unless -" His hands go to his robes.

"No need," Liam says, waving a hand. "I'm to take you to meet with Mortimer."

"Oh, we met him," PK says. Blinking stupidly isn't that hard right now; he feels stupid, after having Carey's hand on his ass. It's almost like he can still feel it.

"Charming," Liam says. "Well, he wants to see you again."

"Our spell work was that good, huh?"

Carey sounds smug. PK tries not to look ridiculous over it, then remembers what they're faking and lets himself look as dumb as he wants.

"Awesome," he finally says when he realizes everyone's carefully not looking at him. "Lead the way."

"Not right now," Liam says. "It's almost two. Go home; someone will be at your house at ten tomorrow night."

"We're not working that hard," Carey points out.

"Your days selling drugs to unsuspecting Muggles might have misled you on this point, but I assure you, most of Mortimer's more...trusted apprentices do not work 8-hour nights every night."

"So we've made it to the big time, is what you're saying."

Liam gives Carey a cold, hard stare. "I'm saying go home. Someone will collect you at ten tomorrow."

"Yes, your worshipfulness," Carey says.

"Um," PK says. He nods, then scurries after Carey, who's already leaving with shoulders squared.

They go next door. Carey doesn't say anything, so PK doesn't say anything either. They make it all the way to the bedroom before PK pins down what's coming through the bond: that's smugness, pure and simple.

"So," PK says.

Carey throws up the usual protective spells, then frowns and adds one PK hasn't heard before, in a language he's pretty sure is Greek. "Well," he says.

PK watches his lips curl: first a smirk, then a smile, then an all-out beaming grin. "So that's what we were waiting for?" he guesses.

"That's what we were waiting for," Carey says. "Fuck, yes." He pumps his fist, then actually stomps his foot, staring at PK like he can't contain how he feels.

PK's surprised by both the sudden display of emotion and the Muggle cursing. Carey's triumph is shining through the curse, bright and brittle. PK picks up, without needing to be told, the reason it's so unstable: this is the beginning of their real undercover work, the part that might fall apart like a stack of cards.

He's about to tell Carey as much when the door bursts open with a blaze of light. PK jumps and pulls out his wand, mouth open to hex whoever it is - but then he relaxes. It's only Melissa.

She puts away her wand as quickly as she appeared in the doorway. "I'm sorry," she says stiffly. "I heard noises and thought -"

"It's fine," Carey says.

"No," she says. "Everything's fine? I'll go, then."

She leaves before PK can so much as get a word in edgewise. PK looks over at Carey, but the moment - whatever it was - is broken.

"So," PK says.

Carey's expression is closed off. "We should get ready for bed. Long day tomorrow. We need to prepare, and we should send a report in too."

They won't answer, but PK knows that Carey knows that. "Sure," he says. "I'll take the bathroom."

He does his best to fall asleep once they're both in bed, but it's hard. Carey's so tense, and his mind - from what PK can get through the curse, which is finally feeling like an actual curse - is buzzing. PK tries to lie still and be quiet and go to sleep, his mother's admonitions creeping up on him even now, but with Carey as tense as he is, it's just not working.

"Carey," he finally whispers, poking Carey with his foot.

"What?"

"Stop."

"Stop what?"

PK sighs. "You know."

"I don't," Carey says.

He's - daring PK, PK realizes. He's teasing. It's fitting, in a ridiculous way, that Carey would flirt after this kind of triumph on their undercover assignment. PK's dick doesn't care about how fitting and also nonsexual it is, though.

To cover up how suddenly interested he is, PK rolls over onto his side, away from Carey. Carey doesn't seem to notice; the mental buzz continues. It's now, kind of weirdly, turning PK on, so he says, "Long day tomorrow, eh?"

"I know," Carey says. "You want me to go to sleep."

"I mean, it's fine," PK says. "Just, you know."

He feels amusement from Carey. "Just, you know?"

"Pretty much," PK says. He knows perfectly well how ridiculous this is, this feeling under his skin. He hopes Carey's not picking up on it, though he really wouldn't lay any money on it. He holds his breath briefly, then lets it out, closing his eyes again.

He's so shocked he almost jumps when Carey presses up against his back. "Sorry, Subban," Carey says in his ear, "but you wanted me to calm down."

He kind of nuzzles PK's neck, and oh God. This is a Carey he was really not prepared to deal with. But pressed against PK's back, Carey's already calming down. PK can't help but wonder why Carey shies away from touch so much if it calms him down like this. He doesn't voice the question, though, and in just a few minutes, he can feel Carey fall asleep.

When he wakes up in the morning, it's to a cool, empty bed. Sunlight is streaming in through the windows, and PK remembers suddenly that they forgot to close the curtains.

Someone was probably watching. He thinks about it for a second, then shrugs. Last night, he tells himself, was proof that Carey lives for undercover work. PK needs to take a step back and stop being so himself. Right now he's Jake, not PK. And Jake has a job to do.

Jake is already falling away when he gets downstairs, though. Melissa and Carey are sitting at the kitchen table, and Melissa's saying, "- have their own magic, I know. But what's to say wizards can't harness it?"

"Wizards can't use goblin magic, or house elf magic," Carey says.

"But we can interact with both, especially house elf magic," Melissa says. "And they were human once."

"Hi, guys." PK pours himself a cup of coffee, then turns to the kitchen table. "What's up?"

Melissa opens her mouth to answer, but Carey says sharply, "What do you think?"

For a split second, PK thinks it's a hostile challenge. Then he realizes what Carey's asking. Different kind of magic, human once - "Vampire magic," he says, blinking. "Melissa thinks Mortimer was using vampire magic."

"I told you," Carey says to Melissa, sounding smug.

"Okay, fine, it's very impressive," Melissa says. "You, I mean," she adds to PK. "But what do you think about the theory?"

PK brings his coffee over to the kitchen table and sits down. "If it doesn't work, you just said some words," PK says. "You studied vampire magic?"

"They can enchant objects just like we can," Melissa says. "And a wizard's spell can break a vampire's - or vice versa."

"Then try it," PK says. "Worst that happens is it doesn't work, right?"

"Probably," Melissa says. "Or I blow the house sky high."

PK remembers his lessons on non-human magic, and knows the likelihood is infinitesimal. So he feels free to say, "Well, then we won't care."

Melissa laughs, short and harsh. "Good point," she says. She draws her wand and points it at the object on the table, a shimmering, dark red circle of metal, made of intertwining threads. "Recoltar."

Nothing happens.

"Blood," PK says.

They both look at him. He shrugs. "Well, if it was just saying a word, Muggles would be wizards. Right?"

"Right," Melissa says.

Carey looks suddenly uneasy. "I don't know if this is a good idea."

"It's a great idea," PK says. "It'll work. Hopefully."

"And if it doesn't, we tried," Melissa says. She aims her wand at her own left hand, and a red stripe blooms along her palm. Setting her wand down, she smears it on the circlet, then says again, commandingly, "Recoltar."

At first, nothing happens again, and PK's ready to give up. But then Melissa hisses, and sparks fly from the metal as it begins to glow.

"Well," Carey says, staring at it. He looks pale.

"Hold your palm out," Melissa says. "Just do it," she adds, snapping, when Carey stares at her.

He wordlessly holds his palm out. She twitches her fingers, and the metal circlet rises until it's hovering a millimetre below Carey's palm. As they watch, the glow encircles Carey's hand, and then -

"Fuck, fuck, stop," Carey says, as pale brown silt starts flowing from him. "Melissa -"

"Desparti," Melissa says quickly. The silt disappears, and the circlet tumbles to the table, gone dark again.

But when PK points his wand at it, he can feel the power. Not much, but it's now a magical object, with some of Carey's power in it. "Oh my God," he says.

Carey, for his part, looks shaken. "It's not the shape Mortimer's was in."

"Packaging doesn't always matter," Melissa says. She sounds as scared at Carey looks.

"Well," PK says. "This is a good starting point. Right?"

But his words fall flat. They finish their coffee in their loose circle at the table, carefully not looking at the metal circlet in its center.