The 38th

The assassin crouched down low. Tonight was a night for caution but then it always was in her line of work. Keeping a careful eye on any movement around her she snaked her way around the shrubbery to the back on the hotel she was targeting. Muggles had an annoying habit of recording things and she had no wish to be seen by anyone. Of course, videos could be erased and memories could be wiped but it was much better to avoid these things if you could help it. All changes could be traced if the right person was looking and it was better not to be seen in the first place. The art of a good kill was always in its simplicity.

She kept her wand tucked away. As a wise man had once said to her "If there was no need to use it, then there's no need to show it". Many assassins less experienced than herself would have just gone through the front entrance wands blazing, this was, after all, only a muggle hotel. But she knew better. Magic left traces and only a fool would leave traces on a job like this.

It was a job she didn't have to take. Truth be told she hadn't needed to take a job for a long time. She was at the top of her game now and had made more than enough money to live off for the rest of her life. Retirement though had never been an option for her. Drinking firewisky in Barbados just wouldn't be her style. Once you'd experienced the thrill of a kill nothing could replace the feeling. That surge of adrenalin as blood was rapidly pumped around the body, the satisfaction at the end of a job, one time could never be enough.

It had been an usual job for her to take as she usually made an effort to conduct all her business overseas. In fact it had been a couple of years since she'd had to make a kill in Britain but you had to go where the money was and she'd been paid good money for this job. She'd actually been somewhat surprised with the amount of money that she had been paid. She'd killed far more important people before for less. Her employer had seemed oddly keen but it wasn't her job to guess at people motives, it was her job to kill.

Making a kill in muggle surroundings brought its own unique challenge. Whilst there was less danger of being attacked by another witch or wizard, any magic you used would stand out and make it easier to be spotted and subsequently caught. She well knew only too well there would be no help for her if she was caught. Her boss did not take failure well and would be more like to help any captures finish her off than offer any assistance. It only took one mistake to be in that position and she had no intention of making one.

All assignations were essentially about choices and as the assassin stared up at the hotel she had reached her first one. Magic or no magic. Her desired entrance point was via the building's rooftop. A quick apparition up or a climb up the fire escape ladder she'd spotted in a camera black spot. She weighed up both options as the different permutations flashed through her mind in a fraction of second. Ultimately, it came down to increasing the risk of detection by muggles now or increasing the chances of any wizard who decided to investigate the targets death. Apparition's left very distinct traces, in usual circumstances it may have been worth risking it but the assassin had been specifically requested to take extra care covering her traces so somewhat reluctantly she headed for the fire escape.

It was a late winter night in a rundown part of town and wandering muggles were few and far between. Even so the assassin had a quick glance before making her way upwards. Grabbing the first rung of the ladder she pulled herself up. She was built for work like this. Light and strong, her agile body almost seemed to bounce up the steps. Making quick work of the ladder she jumped off the last rung and landed on the roof with the kind of poise that would have made a gymnast proud. The door to the roof was closed but not locked. She rolled her eyes. This was likely to be so easy it would be boring. She made a note to herself to make sure she only accepted tough assignments from now on, no matter what the pay was.

The hotel itself did not hold any surprises. The assassin recognised it for what it was, a rundown establishment on its last legs. She wondered if it would make it to the summer season when some money could actually be made.

Concentrating on the task in hand the assassin made her way along the seventh floor. She ignored the elevator knowing full well she didn't want to risk getting stuck inside. Instead she found the hotel staircase and quickly made her way down. She tiptoed down keeping the weight off her feet, alert and ready to react at any moment. She knew exactly where she was going. One of the joys of the human condition was its utter predictability. The same man, the same room. It made her job so much easier.

She smiled when she finally reaching her destination. Room 38. The thirty eighth room for her thirty eighth kill. Sometimes things were just meant to be. The game was on.

From her pocket she picked a small ball and launched it casually down the corridor. She watched the pale odour arise from it and knew its magic had begun. The ball created a charm which would encourage all muggles to stay away from this area of the hotel. One her work was complete it would evaporate away as though it had never been there. The assassin took out her wand. It was finally time to do some magic. Of course, it wasn't her personal wand. It was one of several stolen one's she used for such assignments but it still felt good in her hand.

She swept it close to the door checking for any kind of magical defence. The target may have been a muggle but you could never be too careful. Next she took a listening aid from her pocket. A small device, it allowed the user to hear clearly through a solid wall at short range. They'd only been on the market a few years but were a significant improvement on those damn extendable ears she'd had to use before. She heard heavy snoring which meant she could go for plan A. Or the boring plan as she'd taken to referring to it.

Taking a card from her pocket she entered it in the door, it had been designed to beat any electronic muggle lock and would be yet another spell avoided. Sure enough the door swung open with a happy beep. It was time for action

"Stupefy."

"Stupefy."

She reacted quickly with the first spell and despite her shock like lightning with the second. The assassin stared at the direction of spell. A second person. That had been unexpected. She had been assured only the victim would be here but instead draped around him was a half naked woman. The assassin frowned hard. Surprises did not lead to successful assassinations. Nevertheless, the situation was what it was. She'd been told to leave a muggle man dead in this room with no trace and that's what she was going to do.

The assassin closed the door behind her and took a close look at the stunned man. He was younger than the average target, no older than thirty at most. His face was frozen with one last blank expression on it. He had not seen his death coming. Once upon a time she would have pitied him. A man she didn't know whose life she would end just because her employer had asked her too. She couldn't say exactly when the feeling of caring had worn off. There had been no eureka moment. She just knew there had been a time when she'd worried about the rightness of her job and then there was a time when it was just a job like any other.

The assassin smiled briefly at the thought of the next part of her job. A death from a muggle ailment had been requested and they'd left the choice up to her. She liked that. Variety was the spice of life. She'd chosen a heart attack. Nothing could be more unmagical than that.

Eyes sharp and mind focused, she gripped her wand tightly.

'rejiciuntur'

She rotated her wrist slowly to the right as she said the words then snapped the wand forward with a sudden burst of force. The man's body remained unchanged but the assassin broke into a smile. She knew when a spell had worked. By the time the cleaners came to check the room they would find a man who had died in his sleep and when the doctors examined him later they would find someone exhibiting all the signs of a heart attack. His lack of identity would cause few problems, half-hearted appeals would be put out but they would fade away until the man she had never met before tonight found his way to a nameless grave.

As her heart began beating a little slower the assassin knew her job was almost done. Some professional killers would tell you they did not need or even feel adrenaline but she knew then for liars. There was nothing like the thrill of a kill and nothing like the emptiness after.

She turned her attention to the stunned woman next to the target. A pretty young thing, it was a shame, but rules were rules. No traces meant no traces. The assassin's transfiguration was a little rusty but it would do. Closing her eyes and concentrating deeply she said the words and sure enough in place of the woman was a small mug. Something smaller would have been even more ideal but during her school days she'd been taught mugs so a mug it was.

With the job finished the assassin picked one last item from her pocket. It appeared to be a muggle wallet and inside she took out what appeared to be a muggle credit card. She grinned at her employer's ingenuity. Who would have guessed it was a portkey.

She was forced to use a portkey for two reasons. Firstly because it would leave less trace than to apparate but mainly because it was the only way to access the rendezvous point with her boss. With a touch of her finger the card was activated and soon she felt the familiar sickening feeling as her body was transported hundreds of miles away.

Wheezing slightly at her exertions, she managed to stay on her feet, steading herself against the cave wall. Small and damp, it was an unpleasant place to be but it was only her penultimate destination. A portkey to a portkey, you could never be too careful. She gave a grin at the children's book her boss had left her and deciding to ignore all rules about not using portkeys too often, placed her hand on the book and once again felt herself transported.

"Dead?"

It was plain dark room and the question came seemingly from nowhere. It was the same question she always faced first and she had always given the same answer. "Yes"

"Problems?"

"No."

From the corner of the room her employer strode forward to face her, his face barely visible under his hooded cloak. The silence after was deafening, he was a skilled at Legilimency and she felt his mind touch hers in search of any hint of a lie. It was the part of her job she liked the least. "I speak the truth," she said plainly.

He didn't reply at first, continuing to search away in her mind. Finally he came to halt and with softly spoken words said "That you do girl, that you do."

She waited patiently for further instructions as his eyes bore down on her with a frightening intensity.

"It was not a difficult job so I would not congratulate yourself too much."

"But-"

He silenced her with a glare. "We'd had an offer of employment, a good one but one that came with certain stipulations." He paused briefly eyeing her reaction but she gave none. "They wanted to test you. Not to see if you could do the job but to see how you did it."

"You mean you let some random person watch me work." The words were out of her lips before she could take them back. In her seven years of employment it was one of the first times the assassin had betrayed any displeasure with one her tasks and her outburst hung awkwardly in the silence that followed. She watched fearfully as the old man's eyes narrowed.

"It was an unusual request but I believe the prize will be worth it."

"Go on," she said, curiosity and fear whirling away in her mind.

"I admit there can't have been much for them to see tonight but they set the target. If they come back satisfied then they have a bigger target in mind for you next time and they will pay the value of small country if you deliver it. Moira my dear, how would you like to kill Harry Potter."