Chapter One
The body lies on the floor, green eyes staring glassily at the ceiling in a mixture of surprise and fear. In one closed fist is clutched a crumpled piece of paper. In the other, a wand – he tried to protect himself. Of course, he failed. No-one can withstand the Killing Curse, even the head of the Ministry of Magic's Auror department. Only one person has ever been known to survive it, and now—
"Homorphus." Savage stares at the body, waiting. The spell has no effect. He kneels down beside the corpse, and brushes the hair back from its forehead to reveal the famous lightning-bolt scar. With dark eyes, he looks up at Lupin. "It's him," he says. "He's dead."
Lupin carefully prises the paper from Harry's hand, and reads it.
The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day, free from the strains of democracy.
"Right, everyone, listen up!" Savage stands in the middle of the office, a tall, imposing figure, towering over the tops of the cubicles. "What you've heard is true. Harry Potter is—"
A paper plane hits him squarely in the forehead. Ignoring it, he continues to address the assembled Aurors. "Harry Potter has been murdered." The room is deadly silent. "The public has not been informed. You know to keep this quiet. Everything is on hold until we've got whoever did this behind bars. Lupin and I have inspected the scene." The paper plane wheels around, bashing him on the back of the head. He swats it away. "Ackerley, Robins, I want you out talking to his family. Keep it quiet. We can't have a full-scale panic going around until we know what's happened. Johnson, get the body moved to the morgue. Harris, Wiggleswade, I need you at the Visitors' Entrance. Check everyone who's been in and out of the Ministry today. Everyone. I want wands checked, I want—" The plane makes a nose dive for one of his eyes. Savage ducks just in time, reaching out to grab it from the air as he does. "What do you want?" he demands.
"Read it?" Lupin suggests.
"Shut it, Lupin."
Lupin shuts it. Savage unfolds the plane, reads it, and then raises his eyebrows and reads it again. He sighs heavily.
"What is it?" Munch asks.
"We cannot afford to take on recruits right now," Savage snaps. "Munch, get the door."
Munch turns around and opens the door, frowning. A boy enters the room, practically fresh out of Hogwarts, by the look of him.
Savage's eyebrows shoot up into his rapidly receding hairline. "Name?" he says, as though he doesn't know.
"Scorpius Malfoy."
"Malfoy," says Savage. "Go home."
Malfoy stares back at him with cool grey eyes and doesn't say a word.
"You heard me. Home. Now. You've got a nice manor and some lovely house-elves to look after you, and I can't afford to have recruits running around my feet. Out."
Malfoy raises an eyebrow. Just one. "Harry Potter is dead. You need all the help you can get. Are you going to send me home?"
If Savage's eyebrows could rise any higher, they would. "Out. I don't trust a boy who walks into the office spouting classified information and—"
Malfoy raises a hand, holding a flyer which bears a picture of Harry Potter and Kingsley Shacklebolt, shaking hands and smiling. Underneath, the caption reads: Kingsley Shacklebolt and Harry Potter killed democracy. And then: Democracy killed Harry Potter. "All over the streets," says Malfoy. "Show me your classified information."
Savage shoots him a dirty look. "Lupin," he says, "You're on babysitting."
Lupin looks his new partner up and down. "What do we do know?" he asks, ready to get to work. Harry Potter may be dead, but Lupin is an Auror, and Aurors aren't fazed by death. Even if it is his godfather.
"Aren't you the one in charge?" Malfoy returns.
"Aren't you the bright young thing brimming with ideas?"
Malfoy holds up the flyer. "Talk to Shacklebolt."
Lupin nods. "Good. Okay." He gets to his feet. "Let's go."
Lupin places his hand on the doorknob just as it starts to turn. He steps back as the door swings open from the other side, to reveal the tall, broad-shouldered figure of Shacklebolt himself.
"Shacklebolt," says Lupin. "Just the man we wanted to see.
Shacklebolt looks down at him in surprise. "Ah. Lupin," he says, in his slow, reassuring voice. "Are the rumours true?"
Lupin nods, pressing his lips together. "Harry… Potter's dead."
Shacklebolt nods slowly. "I'll need to talk to Savage."
Lupin casts a glance back into the room. Savage is nowhere to be seen.
"Procedure, " Malfoy says suddenly. "We have to question you before you talk to anyone else." Lupin doesn't say a word, but reminds himself to talk to Malfoy later. For a new recruit, he's getting ahead of himself.
Shacklebolt simply nods.
"In private," Lupin says, and leads him into the Auror office, and then through a door off to one side. They sit down at a heavy table – Lupin and Malfoy on one side, Shacklebolt on the other. Lupin wishes he's had a chance to brief Malfoy on shutting up and letting him do the talking, but he hasn't. He'd better not get in the way.
Lupin pushes the flyer into the centre of the table, between himself and Shacklebolt. "Have you seen this?" he asks.
"Too many times."
"Already?" Malfoy asks. "It was only published this morning."
Shacklebolt eyes Malfoy with an expression on distrust, out of place on his usually warm face. "It was plastered all over the walls of my office when I got in today."
Lupin nods. "Have you had your security checked?"
"Not yet. That's why I came down here. And of course, Potter."
Lupin nods again. "Of course. Was it just the flyers, or…?"
"Not just that," Shacklebolt answers. "Perhaps you should come up to my office."
