bad boys, bad boys whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you?
[Auror Dept]
[Night. Late, late night]
[anyone,ATTN: Aurors]

Harry had been awake and working for so many hours straight he lost track. He was pretty sure the last time he slept it was Friday...maybe. Now it was Sunday, although technically Monday for the past hour. He still was a little fuzzy on how it all happened. One minute he was filling out the most boring paperwork and the next minute Robards was having a meeting organizing people for some sort of raid off of a tip they got. Harry had to admit he was skeptical, but damned if that tip didn't pan out. And hugely too. They caught at least six would be Death Eaters, although the estimate was that around eight got away. Although six was pretty damn good, he still couldn't help but feel a bit odd about the tip. He tried to shrug it off but found himself starting a file and shoving it in the bottom of his desk to look at when he didn't have a stack of paperwork taller then him. They still hadn't really figured out what was going on, they knew they were going after something, but when one of the older aurors jumped in too soon, they never found out what it was.

He tried to accio a cup of coffee and it hit him in the middle of his chest. Part of him wanted to cry over the spilled coffee, but when his brain caught up to him and told him it was cold, he decided he would suffer and try to stay awake without caffeine. After all there were Death Eaters to interrogate and he hoped Kingsley would be in a good enough mood to let him try. Or at least do something that involved less writing.