Prologue
Kingsley Shacklebot flicked through the stacks of paper on his desk. Although he had been minister for magic for three terms following the defeat of the Dark Lord, as well as being head of the Order of the Phoenix, he never found himself more at home than he did in his office, filing through reams of parchment, sorting out the dark wizards from the simple law breakers and the occasional 'wrong place wrong time victim.' Tonight was no exception, even 20 years on there was still talk in the darkest corners of the seediest bars about Voldemort's return, but all of it hear say, rumours to keep those who need a dictator, not a democracy leading them. In any culture you got these people, almost sadists, desperate not to rule but to be ruled. He added a piece of parchment to the 'misuse of muggle artefacts' pile. Somehow he didn't see people who make sofas eat people as dark wizards, merely pranksters. He rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch, almost time for the shift change. If everything went smoothly he would be able to go home, perhaps get some sleep, although sleep had been uneasy recently, ever since that article was published. A few days early the Daily Prophet had published an article about how, conspiracy groups were claiming that dark wizards were able to penetrate the mind, even during sleep, and through this were able to manipulate your dreams, make you think things had happened, even though they hadn't. Of course, just like Voldemorts return it was all gossip, to keep those ears that wanted to hear it happy, whilst the Prophet would be able to make a fortune by publishing a seven part guide on how to fight the 'dream manipulators.' Panic sold papers, Kingsley remembered his aide telling him this at the end of his third term, when after much demand (due to rumour mongering) in various forms of wizarding media, the public decided that Kingsley was in fact a spy for the dark lord during his reign of terror. All based on rumours, rumours fed into the media by his opposition, but enough to merit an inquiry none the less. Panic sells papers, that's what the media need sheer, uncontrollable panic.
Kingsley rose from his chair and walked to the office window. From his office he could see the whole Auror department, at one end of the office taking up a whole wall was a list of each Auror, enchanted to tell where they were at all times, half the list said work, the other half said 'travelling to work.' Suddenly the list started flipping, those that were at work now said 'travelling home' and those that were 'travelling to work' now were at 'work' filing in through the various doors at the sides of the room, shuffling to their desks, to pick up their assignments. Kingsley kept his eyes fixed firmly on the list. His newest recruit, a 20 year old wizard called Knox, the nephew of the Minister for Magic had been sick for several days and the list had read accordingly, except it didn't read 'sick' anymore, it now read nothing, there was nothing next to Knox's name. According to the list Knox was nowhere. Kingsley ignored this, passing it off as a malfunction; the list was relatively new and had a history of malfunctioning. Just after it had been installed one of the Auror's by the name of Johnson had taken some holiday, after a few days the list read as 'mortal peril.' A team was sent to investigate, only to find Johnson and his family were spending a few days at his mother in laws. Kingsley tapped the window with his wand, slowly the window tinted itself so no one could see in, and he made his way over to his desk. He missed field work but he was far too old for that now. Instead now he sat at a desk making the big decisions; dark wizard or prankster, it was ultimately his word that confined a man to a lifetime of misery, or a hefty fine. He liked the work, yes it was a huge responsibility but wasn't that what being an Auror was about? Protecting the world based on your decisions or those of a superior? Most of those men down there weren't prepared for the world of politics, which is the world they would enter if they made a wrong choice, so it was up to Kingsley, he had many years experience, he could take the blame for them, keep their careers alive.
The lights flickered ever so slightly, it was only for a moment but a moment was enough. Kingsley didn't have time to turn; he registered, through his peripheral vision a flash of green light, then everything went black. Had the window not been tinted the Auror's in the office below would've seen the flash. However Kingsley was a private man, his home life was private, his work life was even more so. If the office window was tinted it meant either Kingsley Shacklebot was working or he wasn't in, being a superior his name didn't appear on the list, so no one would know.