Pride & Prejudice & Leprechauns

Draco was back in the conference room at the Auror headquarters, studying his notes. He was in a most ill-tempered mood, and his disposition was dreadful.

“None of this makes any bloody sense,” he said to no one. He threw the parchments back down on the table, knocking off a folder. As he reached down to pick up the papers, he realized that he held an unrelated case file, one that had to be put aside because of the high priority of the clover case.

Deciding now was a good a time as any to take a break, Draco took the folder back to his desk. He had just finished putting it away when he noticed another case file next to the blotter. He felt drawn to it.

“The banshee file,” he muttered, hand poised to pick it up. “Still..."

Where had all the banshees from Ireland gone? he wondered. Draco had read all of the reports of how they had come to England, assuming that they were hiding. However, he still wondered why they were here.

“To follow the leprechaun?” he asked himself.

It was an odd but intriguing train of thought. Banshees were fairies in the form of wailing women who appeared to foretell death. Would the cursed four leaf clovers cause death? Draco knew that they hadn’t yet caused such a tragic worriment, but the symptoms of the curse were getting stronger. He wondered if the banshees expected the need to wail and cry because of the actions of one of their fellow fae.

His mood lightened. Perhaps his luck had changed and something would finally happen without some deplorable deficiency today.

Hermione had walked into the Ministry building with calm resolution. She had walked from the lifts and down the corridors with growing trepidation. Then she entered the Auror Headquarters with awkwardness.

She had been certain that Draco would have requested a change in partner from Harry but had received no owl bearing such news, nor was there a missive stating this at her desk. Her astonishment at this lack of request was almost equal to what she had known after working with him so amicably during their current case. She turned a corner and saw him at his desk, smiling over a sheet of parchment.

The color which had been driven from her face returned for half a minute with an additional glow, and a smile of delight added luster to her eyes, as she thought for that space of time that his affection and wishes must still be unshaken. But, she would not be secure.

“Let me first see how he behaves,” said she.

She went to his cubicle and he received her with tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behavior equally free from any symptom of resentment or any unnecessary complaisance.

Draco, after inquiring of her how her research was progressing, a question which she could not answer without confusion, said scarcely anything. Then several minutes elapsed without bringing the sound of his voice; and when occasionally, unable to resist the impulse of curiosity, she raised her eyes to his face, she as often found him looking at the case files as at herself, and frequently on no object at all. More thoughtfulness and less anxiety to please, than when they last met, were plainly expressed. She was disappointed and angry with herself for being so.

Finally, he rose, told her he was looking into a new lead, gave her a bow, and took his leave. As soon as he was gone, Hermione walked back to the ladies powder room to recover her spirits; or in other words, to dwell without interruption on those thoughts that must deaden them more. Draco’s behavior astonished and vexed her.

“Why, if he kept me as a partner only to be silent, grave, and indifferent,” said she, “did he retain me as his researcher at all?”

She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure.

Draco found the cave mentioned by a witness in the banshee’s case file. It was clear that the fae were gathering here. Slowly and stealthily, he crept into it, the moist earth beneath his feet dampening the sound of his footsteps. He followed the sound of distant wailing.

His thoughts kept wandering to Hermione, but Draco pushed the impulse to dwell on her down. Constant vigilance was, after all, most imperative in a situation like this.

After what seemed like an age of walking through endless twists and turns, he found the banshees. They were swirling above a pool of water at the bottom of a cavern, moaning piteously. Their tattered robes rippled in the air behind them. He stepped boldly into the undercroft and held out his wand. Instantly, the banshees ceased their cries and hovered where they were; the only movement was the gentle sway of their garments.

“I am Draco Malfoy, an Auror with the Ministry of Magic. I’ve come to discover the reason for your direct violation of licensed behavior.”

“Greetings, wizard,” they spoke as one, voices echoing off each other and the cave’s walls. “We come as messengers. We are harbingers. We know why you are here and the knowledge you seek. Gone will we be from this place when our task is complete.”

“Have you followed the leprechaun responsible for the cursed four leaf clovers?”

“That was our sacred aim. That is the cause of our campaign. Know we not why this fae has fallen. His behavior is most uncommon.”

“There are witches and wizards who have become gravely ill because of him. What can be done?”

“You wish to heal? Then defeat us you will. Our wails merely foretell death. Yet, our tears give life new breath.”

Then they started swirling again around the cavern, but this time they flew faster. Their robes became darker, and their faces dissolved into something skeletal. Draco covered his ears as the wailing began again, growing louder and louder. Suddenly, the banshees turned as one and charged at him.

Draco did the first thing that occurred to him, as the banshees looked very similar to dementors at that moment.

“Expecto Patronum!” he cried. A bright silver light leapt from his wand, shining blindingly throughout the dark cave. His patronus flew forth, attacking the banshees just like it would against dementors.

The banshees screamed, howling as if in terrible pain. They reached out towards him, their bony fingers clawing at the bright light. One by one they fell, each disintegrating into mist and raining down into the pool below.

The glow of his patronus slowly faded, and Draco was left alone in the cave. His heavy breathing and heart rate took much longer to calm down than the speed of the light fading. Below him, the water in the pool glistened with a milky sheen, opalescent and reflecting a rainbow of colors on the stones surrounding it.

Again in control of his senses, he quickly climbed down the cavern’s wall to reach the water. When he reached the pool’s edge, he heard the multitude of voices once again.

“Now we travel back from whence we came. Take our tears, bring health to those the clover hath made lame.”

Draco reached down and picked up a rock, transfiguring it into a glass vial. He carefully filled the container, then created another vial, and then another. Once he had as many as he could carry, he carefully made his way back up the wall and left the cave. He would heal Luna Lovegood first.

After that, he would send Blaise an owl, asking him to come back to Britain and the witch whom Draco had convinced him to leave behind. He needed to right that wrong.

Arriving at St. Mungo’s, he hoped he had enough banshee tears to cure all of the victims. If not, then he would simply make another trip, and then another if necessary. Once those in immediate danger were seen to, it was time to catch this leprechaun once and for all.

He had so much to do.