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He’s trapped in a room with a drug lord who has just finished snorting half a kilo of cocaine and is now shooting his gun up in the air, his thugs yelling as they run up the stairs, with explosives set to go off in a minute and take a quarter of the city with it. But that isn't what makes Harry realize he’s well and truly fucked.
“You alright there, Harry?” the voice in his ear asks.
Fucking Merlin, he swears to himself.