Murder on Silverstone

It was a regular Tuesday when Harry received the most important case so far in his career. The memo bearing the message didn't settle down in his in-tray and wait for him to look up from his report, as normal, opting instead to fly at top speed into the side of his head like a small paper dart.

He looked up at it, annoyed, and seized the offending memo from midair right as it was about to line up for another run. That annoyance quickly changed to a sense of urgency as he noticed the orange colour of the parchment. Nothing good ever came in an orange memo. Ripping it open, he read.

Potter,
MLEP reports 1 dead 22 Silverstone St, Kent.
Suspect Dark Mag involved, Muggles potentially on scene.
Urgent Auror action req.
Robards.

Terse, as usual. In his few years of work for the Aurors, Harry had come to expect no less from his boss. He turned the parchment over and scribbled a quick reply, before tapping it with his wand. It quickly folded itself back up, sprang up from the table and rocketed off across the office, sending a burly wizard ducking for cover.

"Ron!" Harry called out, slightly louder than intended. His head appeared from the other side of the cubicle wall.

"Calm down, mate!" Ron replied. "What is it?"

"There's been a murder — Dark Magic," Harry replied, already starting to gather his cloak. "The Muggles are already involved, so we'll need to be careful. Don't want to get caught on video Apparating in."

Ron still wasn't really sure what Muggle video was, but he nodded anyway. Being in the Aurors had really driven home how important, and moreover how difficult, maintaining the Statute of Secrecy could be.

A few minutes later, the duo were Apparating into the street given by the memo. Their Auror robes had been Transfigured into Muggle suits — Harry's grey and Ron's a more esoteric shade of puce. The yellow tie didn't help the look either, but Harry decided not to comment on his friend's misguided Muggle fashion sense.

Together, they surveyed the area. It was a normal Muggle suburb. The streets were lined with rows and rows of tightly-packed, slightly run-down townhouses. Outside one, a dog barked from behind a garden fence. A police car was parked in front of another, and a pair of officers were just clambering out.

"The usual plan, then?"

Ron nodded, and together they strode off towards the house and the Muggle policemen. They could only hope that no-one had been inside, or else they would have to call in the Obliviators involved and things could get ugly. As they neared, they could hear the officers talking.

"What do you reckon, Sarge?" asked one.

"It's probably nothing. Silly old woman keeps calling in all kinds of things about her neighbour. Last time, she reported ghosts, of all things!"

He finished his last declaration with a slight snort. The sergeant was shorter than his companion, and slightly pudgy; between that and the scorn in his voice, he reminded Harry of a slightly less overweight Uncle Vernon, if such a thing was even possible.

As the pair of Aurors neared the house, the policemen turned to face them. The sergeant failed to contain a slight grimace as he caught sight of Ron's oddly-coloured suit. Sensing they were about to be dismissed, Harry cleared his throat and spoke in his most authoritative voice.

"Excuse me, officers. Harry Potter, MI5. This —" he gestured to Ron "— is Ron Weasley, my partner. We'll be taking over this investigation."

The sergeant's face took on a look of disbelief, and he looked ready to interrupt, so Ron stepped in.

"Sir, it's a matter of national security," Ron stated, firmly cutting off whatever spluttered indignation the Muggle was about to respond with. He might not know too much about the Muggles, but DMLE training had taught him how seriously the Muggles took their 'national security.' He produced a sheet of parchment from his robes and handed it over.

The man took it with a huff, and began to read. As he did, his eyes glazed over and his face fell slightly. When he was done, he mumbled something about an apology and handed it back. When he next spoke, he sounded somewhat cowed.

"Come on, Michaels. Let's get back to the office."

The pair walked back to the car and drove off, and Harry and Ron continued on to the house. The outside of the property looked almost undisturbed, but both knew that looks could be deceiving.

"Wands out, you reckon?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded, and they both allowed their wands to slip down into their hands. Testing the door handle slightly, Ron discovered it to be unlocked.

"Count of three, then?"

Harry nodded.

"Three… two… one…"

They pushed open the door.

Author's Note:

So this chapter was written with one of my WIP ideas in mind. It's still firmly in the planning phase, but I've had this scene in mind for a while. There are nowhere near enough buddy Auror fics in the fandom, so hopefully I can do my part to help rectify the situation.