The Second Floor Files

Case One

Don't You Hear the Bells?

Harry had to thank whoever triggered that smokescreen curse on their way in. It might have been unprofessional, he'd have to reprimand them later, but it forced him to use a bubblehead charm. That blessedly spared him from smelling… this. The floorboards creaked behind him.

"Bloody hell."

"Your catch-phrase has never been more appropriate Ron." You got used to seeing chunks of flesh and splashes of blood as an Auror, but this… this was careful, deliberate, mutilation. It was so much more than a flayed body. It was what those spiraling blood runes and exposed tendons implied. Magical torture of the darkest, most obscene sort. Disgust tugged at his lip, but he kept his emotions in check. Barely. His glasses flashed toward straw-headed girl who had entered with Ron.

"Bettine. Send a message back to the ministry. I want someone from Rituals and Occult." Bettine nodded grimly, but also with a slight look of relief as she stepped back out of the dimly lit cottage. She was the new girl; this was only her second outing under their tutelage. Harry glanced back at the flayed corpse. Welcome to the Aurors, lady.

"What are you thinking Harry?" Ron squatted down to look at one of the graying organs, which had been carefully removed from the body and laid in a pattern around the room. "Definitely dark arts?"

"You're joking?"

"What? Could just be a nutter. Muggles do this sort of thing too."

Harry raised an eyebrow as if to say 'You're the Muggle expert now?' Ron put on his best indignant face.

"I saw it on the telly! 'Mione had something about muggle serial killers on."

"Hermione did. Right." He tore his eyes away from the bloody mess and looked in the less obvious corners, scanning as he spoke. "Or maybe you've been staying up all night with the television on, falling asleep on the couch and leaving your wife in bed alone." He heard Ron groan.

"Can you two, y'know, not discuss my inadequacies behind my back-"

"We're friends too."

" –besides. You two grew up with television! I never had muggle entertainment, and if a boring life without magic does one thing it teaches people how to entertain themselves. I have a bit of catching up to do."

"Ron."

"Fine. I'll ease up a bit on the telly, but-"

"Ron, look!" Harry's fist gripped his wand so hard it shook. Ron scrambled to his feet at the yell and jabbed his wand out blindly. Then he saw what Harry looked at. It was scratched in the wall, but in neat, careful cuts. A string of words, and a picture; A skull with a snake tongue.

Two by Two and

Saint by Saint

And don't you hear

The bells they clank

and stutter

Uvulas yanked

they kneel in filth and clutter

they rock and totter

One by one in time with the slaughter

And they blubber, save us

oh Potter Save us

"Th'hell does that mean. Is that…?"

"My name, yeah. And the Dark Mark. I thought we got all these bastards. I thought we were done with this."

"Harry," Ron said, his voice soft and tangled with memory and meaning only they shared, "I don't think we'll ever be done with it all. But we can be done with this. Let's give it to someone else."

Harry's eyes were dark for a few moments as he glared at the scratched writing.

"We'll be done with this case when whoever did this is carving messages onto the walls of Azkaban. " He scratched thoughtfully at his forehead. "But I think we need to call in an outside consultant for this riddle."

"Oh, come on Harry, you know I don't like taking my work home with me."

Bettine Clements knelt outside the picturesque cobblestone cottage, trying to focus on the cool grass against her skin, and her breathing, and the warmth of the sun and... anything but the churning in her gut. She really needed to get herself together. She couldn't let Potter see her like this, especially after that embarrassment of a first case. He had seemed understanding. If he was going to give her clearance to become a full-fledged Auror, though, he was going to have to seem more from her than cursing her own legs and dancing uncontrollably into a bin. If only-

"What's up?" A hand placed itself on her shoulder. She looked up to see Harry grinning at her. If he looked a little pale it was nothing on her complexion.

"I, er..."

"Picking flowers at your age?" His eyes twinkled slightly before turning to the misty mountain ridge that dominated their horizon. She took the moment to breathe deep and get to her feet.

"Actually, it was a bug Mr. Potter. Always had a soft spot for beetles. Never could brew a good endless momentum potion because of it. Live ingredients." Stop babbling! she scolded herself wildly. He turned his gaze back to her and began fishing in his robes.

"You got that message out to the ministry?" he asked, bringing his wand up.

"Yes, sir."

"Good." His wand left a green-yellow afterglow as its tip traced a pattern in the air. "As long as you do your job before going beetle watching we won't have any issues." The spell left a tingle in the air as it locked into place. She recognized it as a ward of some kind, but nothing she'd ever been taught in school or training.

"Sir? What was that for?"

"Its sort of anti-muggle ward a friend of mine cooked up. It's a bit more... efficient than most. I'll teach it to you when we have some down time." His next course of action seemed to be transfiguring the hedge row to have small red berries. Get one answer receive one question. "Ron is canvassing the rest of the house, and he'll deal with R&O when they show up. Once thats all done he'll put up an anti-apparation charm. It is standard procedure in cases like this. We need to keep muggles and wizards out. "

"And us?"

"We? We are going to follow up on the owner of this cottage; a mister Fuller. Anthony Fuller." He blew air out his nose in a kind of resigned sigh. "Then, when the lab gets us the body's identity we are going to inform the next of kin."

"I was under the impression that was someone from MLEO Patrol's job, isn't it?"

"It's a quirk of mine, Bettine. The higher-ups think it makes me too, er, 'Emotionally Invested'," he grimaced to show what he thought of that, "But Its something I need to do. I... just do. It is important to remind yourself who the real victims are. Who you are doing this for." Bettine could not quite work out what emotion was staring out at her from behind those brilliantly green eyes. Before she could figure out what to say back Harry gave a turn and cracked out of existence. Curiosity stopped her from following him immediately. Instead she wandered over to the hedge, plucked a berry and held it up close to her face. She dropped with a shrill yelp.

It wasn't a berry - not really. Berries didn't have pupils.