分卷阅读32（1 / 2）

Potter was silent.

“Let me rephrase that. Will you be able to get up every morning and push through difficult, almost hopeless situations? Will you be alright digging through people’s personal lives in an impersonal way, oftentimes making them uncomfortable, even causing them pain? Will you do that if it will help you reach your ultimate objective?” Igora leaned forward and held his stare. Will you wear flashing holiday jumpers if it means…She frowned. “Will you give everything to save the life of the person you’re tasked to find?”

“Yes,” Potter said.

“Yes to which?”

“All of it,” he pursed his lips. “It isn’t about me.”

There it was. Igora sighed and sat back. So the culmination of her legacy would be taking the great Harry Potter under her wing. “You’re going to end up transferring out by the holidays.”

He smiled, “I really don’t think I will.”

She eyed him. “You’ll have long nights, early mornings. If you keep your London address, the commute will wear on you.”

“I’ll get a flat here,” he nodded.

“Your personal relationships will suffer,” she stated. She shot him a coy smile. “You won’t see much of your boyfriend.”

Harry didn’t blink. “He’s a workaholic, too.” A second went by and then he’d realized what he’d said. “Hang on, how do you know about that?”

Ignora’s smile widened. “I have eyes,” she said. “Even if I didn’t, all Edinburgh talked about last week was Harry Potter’s trip and his very public arguments with Draco Malfoy.” She winked. “And your poor fashion choices which,” she nodded and looked down at his plain black suit and tie, “I’m glad to see today are solid fabrics.”

Icarus Sableton stood in the Atrium pretending to listen to Bastien Queensbury’s piercing complaints. On some level, he was grateful for his recent time spent with Cormac McLaggen as it increased his patience threshold.

“—and we’ve instituted several new inter-departmental mandates that require your full cooperation in these matters. I won’t lose another career-making case because of your ineptitude!” Queensbury glared at Icarus. “Are you listening?”

“No,” he replied and turned his head at the sight of Unspeakable Malfoy. “Excuse me.” Icarus followed the blond and joined him in the lift. Once the doors closed, he turned and asked, “Still no urge to join the Eleven?”

Malfoy slowly turned and stared at him. “No, I should think not.”

Icarus shook his head. “You’re the first person to use one of the Timepieces who hasn’t been drawn in by the power.” He’d wondered at the ease in which Malfoy had simply handed the Timepiece back, later submitting himself to testing for the Pandora problem. “You don’t feel compelled to use it again?”

“I—I thought maybe,” Malfoy stared at the lift doors and frowned. “But what would I want to mess with time for? The way I see it, I’m quite happy in the present.”

The answer almost satisfied Icarus, but he still didn’t quite know if Malfoy could be trusted. The Iniquitous Eleven—or the Ten, as they were a person short for the foreseeable future—were rumored to be divided on how to proceed with choosing a replacement for Zivantus. Some viewed Malfoy as the heir apparent since Zivantus freely gifted the Timepiece to him. Others had their own ideas about who the next should be. But on the other hand, rumors of the Ministry cracking down on wayward departments meant the eyes that knew to look at the Eleven—or Ten—were going to be very interested in the events that had recently transpired. The group might not hold as much power as they’d like to believe. Well, apart from their autocratic control of Time. It would be a dicey path going forward for all parties. Icarus wondered if the blond could prove to be great ally in the coming days of change.