Harry Potter: Syndicate of Heroes

"Impervious!"

That, he hoped, would stop any more water from getting into the cellar, at least until he could have the doors replaced with new watertight ones.

Harry quickly retreated back up the stairs, through the kitchen and into the main area. He was just about to ascend to the first floor when a click, loud in the silence of the bare room, sounded from the front door.

Whipping out his wand, Harry retreated to the shadows behind the counter. The fact that the door unlocked all by itself in the dead of night told him that someone was using magic to break in.

"Ministry aurors! Put your wand down! We're coming in!" a deep gruff voice announced.

While Harry did in fact lower his wand, he refused to put it down. Nor did he come out from his hiding place. He'd spent far too many years in a war to ignore his instincts, despite the fact that the war had finished so many years ago. He was sure that somewhere old Mad-Eye was looking down on him and smiling his grisly smile.

As the front door opened, Harry's eyes narrowed. He watched as a pair of large men came in, quickly separating to either side of the doorway. Then, as one closed the door behind them, the other flicked a ball of light out and up that lit up the room like Harry had never seen it before.

He winced slightly but refused to look away. Instead, he focussed on the two men and the uniforms that they were wearing. For it could only be uniforms. Each wore a long, floor-length trench coat that could easily double as a robe in the magical world. A gold shield of some description hung on their left breast. Their clothes underneath were all black and, if Harry had to guess, he'd say that they were made of dragon skin. At least, the pants and tunic definitely looked identical to the ones that he had been given by Charlie Weasley when he'd visited the Romanian Dragon Preserve all those years ago.

"Show yourself," the auror on the left called out. "We know that you're here."

Warily, Harry did as requested. But, even though he stepped out of the shadows, he remained behind the counter, his wand hidden in his hand below their eyesight.

"Are you the only one here?" the auror asked.

"Yes," Harry replied.

"Who are you?" the auror asked.

"Who are you?" Harry countered.

This time it was the one on the right who replied. "We already told you. Ministry aurors."

Harry shrugged. "Anyone can say that they're an auror."

"And the uniform doesn't give it away?" the second auror asked dryly.

"Auror Michael Stevenson," the first auror identified himself. "My partner is Auror Peter Jenkins."

"Harry Potter," Harry replied.

He sighed, then, seeing their starts of recognition.

"The-Man-Who-Conquered?" Auror Stevenson asked.

"Yes. Or The-Boy-Who-Lived or The Chosen One or whatever other stupid name I've been given since I left England," Harry groused.

"Not a fan of your titles, I take it?" Auror Stevenson chuckled.

Harry only dignified that with a dark look.

"I take it you're the one responsible for the magic that we detected coming from this building this evening?" Auror Jenkins asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied.

"Right, well, it was only low-level spells, but we'll still have a report to write up when we get back," Auror Stevenson said. "Can we ask why you were casting spells here?'

"I own the place," Harry replied.

"You own it? We don't have a record of that," Auror Jenkins remarked.

"Well," Harry replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "When I say, I own it, I mean that I will own it. I've got a contract on it and it'll settle in about a month."

"Close enough, I should think," Auror Stevenson said. "We'll lodge the building as being in the ownership of a wizard."

"Thanks," Harry replied. "You guys were pretty quick getting here."

"That'd be because there are so few magicals living in New York," Auror Jenkins replied and then elaborated at Harry's puzzled look. "There are simple far too many nomajes living in the city for most magicals to feel comfortable with. Tend to settle in smaller places - Salem, outside Chicago, Seattle, they're probably the biggest areas. But here in New York? No, not so much. Once, when the city wasn't so busy it was a bit different, but things have changed in the last couple of decades. Too easy for a mistake to be made and for the nomag-es to find out about us. Thus, we keep a pretty close eye on the city."

Harry nodded absently, filing away the American term for muggles for future reference. "That makes sense, I guess."

"Now that we know you're here, we'll know to ignore this place. And we've got your magical signature on file, so we'll know if you're not the one doing the magic here or if you're performing magic somewhere you shouldn't, " Auror Jenkins said.

"Just keep it away from the nomajes," Auror Stevenson said. "We'd hate to have to arrest you for breaking the Statute of Secrecy."

"Not a problem," Harry assured them. "I have no intention of casting spells anywhere where muggles can see me."

"In that case, we'll leave you to it, then," Auror Jenkins said. "Nice meeting you, Mister Potter."

"Thanks, you too," Harry replied.

Once they were gone, he made sure to check the lock before heading upstairs to continue his explorations.