Author's Notes: Um, well, the story takes place a number of years after
Hogwarts. Aurors, Unspeakables, ambassadors and secret societies abound in
the political turmoil that surrounds the Ministry of Magic—while Ron and
the others are busy just trying to get through the next week at work. Oh,
and a HUGE thank-you goes out to Avie for doing the beta-thing! Love ya,
dear!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. don't belong to me, but to JK Rowling, WB and the assorted publishing companies and such. I'm making no money off of this and no copyright infringement is intended. Enjoy!
* * *
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Prologue
By Diocletian
* * * * *
August 14, 2005:
Ruben Frump nervously studied the other patrons inside the Genesis Café as he came in the door, wiping a light glistening of sweat off of his forehead with a kerchief from his pocket. The warm, badly-lit building was nearly empty at that time of night: aside from the teenaged waitress there were only six other people inside. In the middle of the room two elderly, blue- haired women sat chatting quietly over their shopping bags while a middle- aged man, tall with neat dark hair, sat a few seats down from them, sipping coffee and trying to read a newspaper. A younger man, short, with highlighted brown hair, sat reading a Tom Clancy novel at a table only a few feet away from where Ruben stood beside the door.
The last two customers sat near the back of the room. A slight young red- headed woman, about the same age as the diminutive brunette by the door, was scribbling furiously into a notebook and pushing a pair of reading glasses further up her nose every ten seconds or so. And a few tables closer to the back wall, a frowning man was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses and a long overcoat, which was decidedly strange because, even though the summer sun had set hours ago, the night was still so hot and humid that you could probably fry an egg on the pavement outside. This was the man that Ruben had come to see.
Trying to seem nonchalant, Ruben crossed the room and took a seat beside the man in the overcoat, carefully placing the small duffel bag he was carrying on the floor beneath his chair. None of the other patrons gave him more than a brief glance as he sat down and Ruben tried to relax.
"Dr. Frump," the man stated in a rough voice. It wasn't a question, but Ruben nodded anyway. "You are late. I am assuming that you have brought the merchandise we asked for?" Licking his lips nervously, Ruben nodded again and tried to discreetly wipe the sweat from his forehead. The other man smiled tightly, but his tone remained cold. "Good. That's very good. Would you like some pie, Dr. Frump?"
"Well, er, not real—"
"Miss, would you get this man some pie, please?" The waitress he was speaking to nodded and quickly sliced him a piece of apple pie, bringing it over to their table, grabbing a coffeepot on the way.
"More coffee?" she asked. The man in the coat shook his head. The waitress went back towards the counter, pausing only to pour another cup for the redheaded girl at the nearby table when she asked for a refill.
Ruben stared at the pie in front of him for a while, waiting for the other man to continue, but he didn't. Ruben, who was getting antsy, broke the silence instead. "Do you have the money?"
His contact nodded. "You will be well compensated. You need not worry about that, Dr. Frump."
Ruben nervously ate a forkful of his pie. "You'd better be right about that. I could get in a lot of trouble because of this. Fired or worse. If you get caught doing something with any of that stuff, you've never met me. We got that straight?"
"Of course, Dr. Frump." The other man reached behind his chair and pulled out a briefcase, placing it on the table and pushing it to Ruben. "The payment promised for your services," he explained. "I suggest you wait until I leave before opening it. No need to draw attention to yourself. And I would also appreciate it if you handed me that duffel bag now."
Ruben pulled the bag out from under his chair and quickly pushed it across the table, his eyes wide at the sight of the large briefcase. But something in the other man's tone set off a small warning bell at the back of his mind. He took hold of the handle and pulled it over. Unable to resist, despite the warning and the other man's attempt to stop him when he saw what Ruben was about to do, he unlatched it and pulled it open. And inside he found...
Nothing. Well, there was a small cube of clay or something at the bottom, but there certainly wasn't any money. Brow furrowed in confusion, Ruben looked up from the case. Facing him, his contact wore a stony expression, obviously unhappy that Ruben had disobeyed him, and pulled what looked like a small stick out of his pocket. "What the hell? What did you do with my money?" Ruben demanded.
"Muggles," the man said quietly, raising his stick. "So very impatient. If you had only done what I asked and waited until I left, you would never have gotten the opportunity to notice this small indiscretion. I do apologize for the inconvenience, Dr. Frump. *Imperi*—"
"PUT THE WAND DOWN!"
The new voice came from the redhead who'd been sitting at the nearby table. Ginny Weasley was standing now, and she had a stick in her hand too. The notebook she'd been writing in had disappeared and her glasses had been carelessly flung aside. Behind her, the short young man who'd been sitting by the door reading had copied her stance in front of the door, blocking the exit and clutching yet another stick in his own hand. The girl's brow furrowed with impatience. "I said put it DOWN, Nott! NOW!"
The man in the overcoat, Nott, spread his arms out slowly, his fingers relaxing and his wand drooping uselessly in his hand. The redhead kept her wand pointed at him and took a few steps forward, guarding him against making any sudden movements while her partner started to conjure up some bindings. Two more wizards slowly entered through the back door and another came out of the men's washroom, each carrying either a camera or a tape- recording device and pointing their wands at Nott. And then all hell broke loose.
All of a sudden the muggle man with neat hair who had been reading a newspaper before the chaos had erupted leapt from his seat. He gripped a thin cord in his hands and, before anyone realized what was happening, he had it wrapped around the redhead's neck from behind and pulled it taut. The girl's wand clattered to the floor as she gagged and her hands flew to her neck, trying to free herself. The short young man by the door let out a shout and ran at the man. "GINNY!"
The muggle man saw him coming and yanked the choke cord upwards, locking his elbows. Ginny was pulled backwards against the man, who was almost a foot taller than she, and then yanked slightly off to the left as she was slowly suffocated. When her partner came to rescue her, Ginny's captor kicked him sharply in the stomach. Colin Creevey was knocked to the floor by the force of the impact and the pain kept him there for more than a few seconds afterward.
Meanwhile, Nott had quickly taken advantage of the situation and stupefied the wizard who had remained standing outside of the men's bathroom. The other two wizards had ducked for cover behind the cashier's counter and continued exchanging curses with Nott while the waitress screamed and repeatedly slapped at them with an empty pie plate. Ruben Frump had hidden behind an overturned table and was muttering to himself, apparently praying.
Colin had managed to get a hold of his senses. He looked back at Ginny and her captor, her purpling face swollen with blood, dying in front of his eyes, and a half-arsed plan formed in his head. He wasn't very good at this whole combat thing, it wasn't anywhere in his job description, but he knew he had to try. He sent a curse towards the two, but pulled it off to the side a second before it hit them and rejoiced to see the muggle back up nervously. He couldn't send a curse that would actually hit him because Ginny was in the way, but they worked well as a scare tactic. He sent another, making this one veer off to the other side, and hoped Ginny was still sensible enough to realize what he was doing as her captor backed into the wall.
He need not have worried. To a person who is suffocating to death, there is no other thought in their mind than somehow being able to breathe again, by any means possible. Their natural reaction is to struggle as fiercely as possible until they faint. And backing up, the muggle had loosened his hold on the choke cord a tiny bit, enough for Ginny's feet to get sure, solid footing again and her neck to straighten just to the point of being able to nudge her captor's chin with the top of her head as she adjusted. Because the only thing on her mind was to get free, preferably as quickly as possible, Ginny went into action the instant she realized how much taller the man was. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all.
As opposed to getting out of the man's grip as she had been attempting, the redhead suddenly, almost thoughtlessly, leaned further into him. This had the result of both startling the man and loosening the cord around her neck about half an inch, enough to manage a single, painful breath. Strangely enough, it was only then, when she received that reminder of what exactly it felt like to breathe properly again, that she realized how close she had come to dying just a second ago. Instantly and ferociously enraged at the man who was STILL trying to kill her, she jammed her head up and back, into the man's Adam's apple. He choked and she furiously repeated the action again and again, fighting the gagging that fell from her mouth as his hands spasmodically jerked the cord tighter around her neck. After five direct strikes, her captor was sufficiently distracted to the point where Ginny managed to pull away slightly and get in position to kick. Her leg bent back and struck her assailant between the legs with enough force to kick open a locked door.
It had the desired effect. The muggle gasped in pain and fell down upon his knees, realizing that she just wasn't worth the trouble of hanging onto and releasing his grip on the cord. Ginny staggered forward and her partner sent a quick 'Stupefy' at the man before checking to see if she was okay.
Ginny was only about half conscious as she gasped and wheezed, sobbing for breath, but at least she WAS breathing. Colin glanced up to make sure that the situation with Nott was under control before helping Ginny into a chair. She was hacking harshly now and had a hand on her throat. Blood vessels in her eyes had burst, speckling the white with tiny dark red stains as they bulged out of her equally red face. "Colin—"she rasped, but her friend shook his head, silencing her. He held her gently while she bent over and choked the air back into her lungs.
Nott, after a brief, but furious struggle, had been subdued and was now under the influence of Petrificus Totalus. The two wizards who had taken him down were currently reviving their fallen comrade, a young Irish wizard named Cary O'Day, and making sure he was all right. When they were sure he'd be okay, one went to make sure Nott was completely secure while the other came to check on Ginny. Colin noticed something out of the corner of his eye and, after giving Ginny a reassuring pat on the shoulder, went to the back of the room.
Quivering behind his overturned table, Ruben saw Colin coming towards him. He panicked, grabbing the duffel bag he had brought in with him and tried to run, but Colin Creevey was a trained Senior Field Researcher for the Department of Mysteries. With one well-placed *Impedimenta*, he had the muggle man on the floor again before he'd run more than a few feet. Panting, Ruben turned onto his back and looked up at the brunette in disbelief. "Who are you people?" he demanded.
"Sorry, mate. That's confidential information. But I wouldn't worry about it too much." Colin pointed his wand at the man. "Obliviate!"
The normal dazed look came over the man's face and Colin tugged him up off the floor, pulling the duffel bag out of his grasp and handing it to his co- worker, O'Day, who still had a slightly glazed look in his eyes, before turning back to Frump and slinging a friendly arm around his shoulders, gently propelling him towards the door.
"Now, Ruben," he said pleasantly, "you came in here tonight to get a cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie after a long day at work. You weren't here to meet anybody and you certainly didn't see any wizards dueling because, of course, there is no such thing as magic." Ruben nodded, muttering "No such...magic," and Colin gave him a friendly pat on the back, straightened his hat for him and zipped up his coat. "So now I guess you're on your way home. You have a good night, Dr. Frump. And don't you be stealing anything else from work and trying to sell it on the black market, okay? Sooner or later, you might get caught." Ruben nodded vaguely and wandered out the door. Colin watched him disappear into the humid darkness and turned back to his fellow Unspeakables.
McGrew, one of his other companions, had grabbed the briefcase Nott had tried to give to Frump and flipped it open. He gave the contents a cursory glance and pulled out the small clay-like cube that Frump had become so disgruntled by. He studied it for a moment and then tapped it with his wand and muttered a quiet spell. The cube glowed purple for a few seconds, but faded quickly back to its original color.
"It's a Pareses Square," he explained. "Magical bomb, probably set to go off when someone apparates within a certain distance. I just disarmed it so it wouldn't blow when we try and leave." He placed it carefully into a plastic baggy that he had pulled out of his pocket.
"Probably a good idea, on the whole," Colin commented. Then he loudly clapped his hands together, trying to appear enthusiastic. "Well, we've got what we came for, right?" he asked them. O'Day, blinking at an oddly hesitant speed, checked the duffel bag he was carrying and nodded. Colin rubbed his hands together and grinned appreciatively. "Well, then. Let's clean up and get ready to go."
The others had already gathered the three witnesses, the two old ladies and the waitress, and done a memory charm. So Colin helped a still-coughing Ginny to stand up tables and chairs and repair damaged walls and doors, taking pictures of everything before they fixed it for their records. When the five Unspeakables were finished, Ginny, who was feeling quite vengeful by now, went over and sharply kicked the man who'd tried to kill her. O'Day came up to her. "So, what are we going to do with this one, Ma'am?"
Senior Field Researcher Weasley kneeled over the man, rubbing her throat absently and examined him. She stood up again after a moment and looked at O'Day. "This son of a bitch is going to Azkaban. Right alongside Nott."
Colin looked over at her, startled, but she walked right past him. O'Day bent down and pulled back the Muggle's sleeve to his elbow, revealing an ugly tattoo consisting of a familiar skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. A Death Eater.
Colin held back a sigh. It figured. The Dark Lord had been gone for years and his followers were still making nuisances of themselves just like they had always done. They were just trying to get deeper and deeper under the Ministry's skin. Like fucking porcupine quills, they were.
Colin hated it when Death Eaters popped up in Unspeakable business. The Department of Mysteries' Field Researchers were only supposed to handle the science and observation of suspicious studies and situations, and were only ever supposed to reveal themselves when an emergency situation arose. Like when Nott had been about to cast Imperio on that muggle, for example.
Dark Wizards, however, were (supposedly) strictly the Aurors' problem. But when the Aurors didn't catch them, it would occasionally happen that they would get involved DM investigations only to be put under arrest by the Unspeakables. Then, certain petty members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the DMLE, would start sending howlers. Like the Unspeakables had purposely stolen their prisoners to get the glory of catching them or something. As a rule, Field Researchers left the Department rivalry stuff to the politicians, even Senior FRs like Colin and Ginny, but it was still a bitch when DMLE employees sent you howlers personally. Especially so the ones that threw around names of important Ministry connections and how much they'd make the Unspeakables regret it if they arrested more Dark Wizards instead of leaving it to the DMLE. Occasionally an exceptionally irritable FR would send back a comment saying that if the Aurors would just catch them in the first place, than there would never have been any Unspeakable involvement. These letters usually went unanswered.
Colin let his second sigh slip through. He cast Petrificus Totalus on the unconscious "muggle Death Eater" and went to make sure all five of them were ready to head out, their two prisoners in tow.
* * * * *
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. don't belong to me, but to JK Rowling, WB and the assorted publishing companies and such. I'm making no money off of this and no copyright infringement is intended. Enjoy!
* * *
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Prologue
By Diocletian
* * * * *
August 14, 2005:
Ruben Frump nervously studied the other patrons inside the Genesis Café as he came in the door, wiping a light glistening of sweat off of his forehead with a kerchief from his pocket. The warm, badly-lit building was nearly empty at that time of night: aside from the teenaged waitress there were only six other people inside. In the middle of the room two elderly, blue- haired women sat chatting quietly over their shopping bags while a middle- aged man, tall with neat dark hair, sat a few seats down from them, sipping coffee and trying to read a newspaper. A younger man, short, with highlighted brown hair, sat reading a Tom Clancy novel at a table only a few feet away from where Ruben stood beside the door.
The last two customers sat near the back of the room. A slight young red- headed woman, about the same age as the diminutive brunette by the door, was scribbling furiously into a notebook and pushing a pair of reading glasses further up her nose every ten seconds or so. And a few tables closer to the back wall, a frowning man was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses and a long overcoat, which was decidedly strange because, even though the summer sun had set hours ago, the night was still so hot and humid that you could probably fry an egg on the pavement outside. This was the man that Ruben had come to see.
Trying to seem nonchalant, Ruben crossed the room and took a seat beside the man in the overcoat, carefully placing the small duffel bag he was carrying on the floor beneath his chair. None of the other patrons gave him more than a brief glance as he sat down and Ruben tried to relax.
"Dr. Frump," the man stated in a rough voice. It wasn't a question, but Ruben nodded anyway. "You are late. I am assuming that you have brought the merchandise we asked for?" Licking his lips nervously, Ruben nodded again and tried to discreetly wipe the sweat from his forehead. The other man smiled tightly, but his tone remained cold. "Good. That's very good. Would you like some pie, Dr. Frump?"
"Well, er, not real—"
"Miss, would you get this man some pie, please?" The waitress he was speaking to nodded and quickly sliced him a piece of apple pie, bringing it over to their table, grabbing a coffeepot on the way.
"More coffee?" she asked. The man in the coat shook his head. The waitress went back towards the counter, pausing only to pour another cup for the redheaded girl at the nearby table when she asked for a refill.
Ruben stared at the pie in front of him for a while, waiting for the other man to continue, but he didn't. Ruben, who was getting antsy, broke the silence instead. "Do you have the money?"
His contact nodded. "You will be well compensated. You need not worry about that, Dr. Frump."
Ruben nervously ate a forkful of his pie. "You'd better be right about that. I could get in a lot of trouble because of this. Fired or worse. If you get caught doing something with any of that stuff, you've never met me. We got that straight?"
"Of course, Dr. Frump." The other man reached behind his chair and pulled out a briefcase, placing it on the table and pushing it to Ruben. "The payment promised for your services," he explained. "I suggest you wait until I leave before opening it. No need to draw attention to yourself. And I would also appreciate it if you handed me that duffel bag now."
Ruben pulled the bag out from under his chair and quickly pushed it across the table, his eyes wide at the sight of the large briefcase. But something in the other man's tone set off a small warning bell at the back of his mind. He took hold of the handle and pulled it over. Unable to resist, despite the warning and the other man's attempt to stop him when he saw what Ruben was about to do, he unlatched it and pulled it open. And inside he found...
Nothing. Well, there was a small cube of clay or something at the bottom, but there certainly wasn't any money. Brow furrowed in confusion, Ruben looked up from the case. Facing him, his contact wore a stony expression, obviously unhappy that Ruben had disobeyed him, and pulled what looked like a small stick out of his pocket. "What the hell? What did you do with my money?" Ruben demanded.
"Muggles," the man said quietly, raising his stick. "So very impatient. If you had only done what I asked and waited until I left, you would never have gotten the opportunity to notice this small indiscretion. I do apologize for the inconvenience, Dr. Frump. *Imperi*—"
"PUT THE WAND DOWN!"
The new voice came from the redhead who'd been sitting at the nearby table. Ginny Weasley was standing now, and she had a stick in her hand too. The notebook she'd been writing in had disappeared and her glasses had been carelessly flung aside. Behind her, the short young man who'd been sitting by the door reading had copied her stance in front of the door, blocking the exit and clutching yet another stick in his own hand. The girl's brow furrowed with impatience. "I said put it DOWN, Nott! NOW!"
The man in the overcoat, Nott, spread his arms out slowly, his fingers relaxing and his wand drooping uselessly in his hand. The redhead kept her wand pointed at him and took a few steps forward, guarding him against making any sudden movements while her partner started to conjure up some bindings. Two more wizards slowly entered through the back door and another came out of the men's washroom, each carrying either a camera or a tape- recording device and pointing their wands at Nott. And then all hell broke loose.
All of a sudden the muggle man with neat hair who had been reading a newspaper before the chaos had erupted leapt from his seat. He gripped a thin cord in his hands and, before anyone realized what was happening, he had it wrapped around the redhead's neck from behind and pulled it taut. The girl's wand clattered to the floor as she gagged and her hands flew to her neck, trying to free herself. The short young man by the door let out a shout and ran at the man. "GINNY!"
The muggle man saw him coming and yanked the choke cord upwards, locking his elbows. Ginny was pulled backwards against the man, who was almost a foot taller than she, and then yanked slightly off to the left as she was slowly suffocated. When her partner came to rescue her, Ginny's captor kicked him sharply in the stomach. Colin Creevey was knocked to the floor by the force of the impact and the pain kept him there for more than a few seconds afterward.
Meanwhile, Nott had quickly taken advantage of the situation and stupefied the wizard who had remained standing outside of the men's bathroom. The other two wizards had ducked for cover behind the cashier's counter and continued exchanging curses with Nott while the waitress screamed and repeatedly slapped at them with an empty pie plate. Ruben Frump had hidden behind an overturned table and was muttering to himself, apparently praying.
Colin had managed to get a hold of his senses. He looked back at Ginny and her captor, her purpling face swollen with blood, dying in front of his eyes, and a half-arsed plan formed in his head. He wasn't very good at this whole combat thing, it wasn't anywhere in his job description, but he knew he had to try. He sent a curse towards the two, but pulled it off to the side a second before it hit them and rejoiced to see the muggle back up nervously. He couldn't send a curse that would actually hit him because Ginny was in the way, but they worked well as a scare tactic. He sent another, making this one veer off to the other side, and hoped Ginny was still sensible enough to realize what he was doing as her captor backed into the wall.
He need not have worried. To a person who is suffocating to death, there is no other thought in their mind than somehow being able to breathe again, by any means possible. Their natural reaction is to struggle as fiercely as possible until they faint. And backing up, the muggle had loosened his hold on the choke cord a tiny bit, enough for Ginny's feet to get sure, solid footing again and her neck to straighten just to the point of being able to nudge her captor's chin with the top of her head as she adjusted. Because the only thing on her mind was to get free, preferably as quickly as possible, Ginny went into action the instant she realized how much taller the man was. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all.
As opposed to getting out of the man's grip as she had been attempting, the redhead suddenly, almost thoughtlessly, leaned further into him. This had the result of both startling the man and loosening the cord around her neck about half an inch, enough to manage a single, painful breath. Strangely enough, it was only then, when she received that reminder of what exactly it felt like to breathe properly again, that she realized how close she had come to dying just a second ago. Instantly and ferociously enraged at the man who was STILL trying to kill her, she jammed her head up and back, into the man's Adam's apple. He choked and she furiously repeated the action again and again, fighting the gagging that fell from her mouth as his hands spasmodically jerked the cord tighter around her neck. After five direct strikes, her captor was sufficiently distracted to the point where Ginny managed to pull away slightly and get in position to kick. Her leg bent back and struck her assailant between the legs with enough force to kick open a locked door.
It had the desired effect. The muggle gasped in pain and fell down upon his knees, realizing that she just wasn't worth the trouble of hanging onto and releasing his grip on the cord. Ginny staggered forward and her partner sent a quick 'Stupefy' at the man before checking to see if she was okay.
Ginny was only about half conscious as she gasped and wheezed, sobbing for breath, but at least she WAS breathing. Colin glanced up to make sure that the situation with Nott was under control before helping Ginny into a chair. She was hacking harshly now and had a hand on her throat. Blood vessels in her eyes had burst, speckling the white with tiny dark red stains as they bulged out of her equally red face. "Colin—"she rasped, but her friend shook his head, silencing her. He held her gently while she bent over and choked the air back into her lungs.
Nott, after a brief, but furious struggle, had been subdued and was now under the influence of Petrificus Totalus. The two wizards who had taken him down were currently reviving their fallen comrade, a young Irish wizard named Cary O'Day, and making sure he was all right. When they were sure he'd be okay, one went to make sure Nott was completely secure while the other came to check on Ginny. Colin noticed something out of the corner of his eye and, after giving Ginny a reassuring pat on the shoulder, went to the back of the room.
Quivering behind his overturned table, Ruben saw Colin coming towards him. He panicked, grabbing the duffel bag he had brought in with him and tried to run, but Colin Creevey was a trained Senior Field Researcher for the Department of Mysteries. With one well-placed *Impedimenta*, he had the muggle man on the floor again before he'd run more than a few feet. Panting, Ruben turned onto his back and looked up at the brunette in disbelief. "Who are you people?" he demanded.
"Sorry, mate. That's confidential information. But I wouldn't worry about it too much." Colin pointed his wand at the man. "Obliviate!"
The normal dazed look came over the man's face and Colin tugged him up off the floor, pulling the duffel bag out of his grasp and handing it to his co- worker, O'Day, who still had a slightly glazed look in his eyes, before turning back to Frump and slinging a friendly arm around his shoulders, gently propelling him towards the door.
"Now, Ruben," he said pleasantly, "you came in here tonight to get a cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie after a long day at work. You weren't here to meet anybody and you certainly didn't see any wizards dueling because, of course, there is no such thing as magic." Ruben nodded, muttering "No such...magic," and Colin gave him a friendly pat on the back, straightened his hat for him and zipped up his coat. "So now I guess you're on your way home. You have a good night, Dr. Frump. And don't you be stealing anything else from work and trying to sell it on the black market, okay? Sooner or later, you might get caught." Ruben nodded vaguely and wandered out the door. Colin watched him disappear into the humid darkness and turned back to his fellow Unspeakables.
McGrew, one of his other companions, had grabbed the briefcase Nott had tried to give to Frump and flipped it open. He gave the contents a cursory glance and pulled out the small clay-like cube that Frump had become so disgruntled by. He studied it for a moment and then tapped it with his wand and muttered a quiet spell. The cube glowed purple for a few seconds, but faded quickly back to its original color.
"It's a Pareses Square," he explained. "Magical bomb, probably set to go off when someone apparates within a certain distance. I just disarmed it so it wouldn't blow when we try and leave." He placed it carefully into a plastic baggy that he had pulled out of his pocket.
"Probably a good idea, on the whole," Colin commented. Then he loudly clapped his hands together, trying to appear enthusiastic. "Well, we've got what we came for, right?" he asked them. O'Day, blinking at an oddly hesitant speed, checked the duffel bag he was carrying and nodded. Colin rubbed his hands together and grinned appreciatively. "Well, then. Let's clean up and get ready to go."
The others had already gathered the three witnesses, the two old ladies and the waitress, and done a memory charm. So Colin helped a still-coughing Ginny to stand up tables and chairs and repair damaged walls and doors, taking pictures of everything before they fixed it for their records. When the five Unspeakables were finished, Ginny, who was feeling quite vengeful by now, went over and sharply kicked the man who'd tried to kill her. O'Day came up to her. "So, what are we going to do with this one, Ma'am?"
Senior Field Researcher Weasley kneeled over the man, rubbing her throat absently and examined him. She stood up again after a moment and looked at O'Day. "This son of a bitch is going to Azkaban. Right alongside Nott."
Colin looked over at her, startled, but she walked right past him. O'Day bent down and pulled back the Muggle's sleeve to his elbow, revealing an ugly tattoo consisting of a familiar skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. A Death Eater.
Colin held back a sigh. It figured. The Dark Lord had been gone for years and his followers were still making nuisances of themselves just like they had always done. They were just trying to get deeper and deeper under the Ministry's skin. Like fucking porcupine quills, they were.
Colin hated it when Death Eaters popped up in Unspeakable business. The Department of Mysteries' Field Researchers were only supposed to handle the science and observation of suspicious studies and situations, and were only ever supposed to reveal themselves when an emergency situation arose. Like when Nott had been about to cast Imperio on that muggle, for example.
Dark Wizards, however, were (supposedly) strictly the Aurors' problem. But when the Aurors didn't catch them, it would occasionally happen that they would get involved DM investigations only to be put under arrest by the Unspeakables. Then, certain petty members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the DMLE, would start sending howlers. Like the Unspeakables had purposely stolen their prisoners to get the glory of catching them or something. As a rule, Field Researchers left the Department rivalry stuff to the politicians, even Senior FRs like Colin and Ginny, but it was still a bitch when DMLE employees sent you howlers personally. Especially so the ones that threw around names of important Ministry connections and how much they'd make the Unspeakables regret it if they arrested more Dark Wizards instead of leaving it to the DMLE. Occasionally an exceptionally irritable FR would send back a comment saying that if the Aurors would just catch them in the first place, than there would never have been any Unspeakable involvement. These letters usually went unanswered.
Colin let his second sigh slip through. He cast Petrificus Totalus on the unconscious "muggle Death Eater" and went to make sure all five of them were ready to head out, their two prisoners in tow.
* * * * *