Tonight, Near South-West
"Between two evils, I always pick the one I never tried before." ~ Mae West.
He watched the guards from behind the shadows. It was well after three am, and he was sure his chance would appear before him shortly. Underfoot, the gravel rustled silently as he shifted his weight to his right leg. The man wrapped his hand around his wand, his grip tightening. The sense of urgency was growing stronger.
A bouncing light from a wand and the sounds of deep laughter alerted him to the presence of the next night shift of guards. Darting out of the shadows, with the aid of a concealment charm, he moved along the wall. Three men, one tall and thin, one short and round and one who looked… very familiar, approached the guards who were on duty.
"Bob!" the short and round one called. One of the guards who sat by the door looked up with a grin.
"Gunny, it's been too long. How was your trip?"
The three approaching guards now reached the on-duty guards. They clasped hands briefly and Gunny began a friendly conversation.
Keeping his eye on the familiar man, the man from the shadows reached the wall close to the doorway, where the guards were situated. Keeping his breathing even, he gently stole forwards into the doorway. He was only inches from Gunny, who was saying very spiritedly how his wife had particularly enjoyed the beaches at night, if they knew what he meant, when the familiar looking man froze and turned his gaze over Gunny's shoulder. Right to where the man from the shadows was standing.
"Listen Gunny," he said slowly. "I don't mean to be rude, but we should really get on-duty and let these men knock off."
The man under the concealment charm remained frozen.
"Of course," beamed Gunny. "We'll continue this discussion Friday night, at the Leaky Cauldron, boys?"
The three previous guards all nodded and spoke their acceptance and with goodbyes, left their previous posts.
As the short, round man sat on a stool, and the tall, thin man pressed his back against the wall, his eyes peering across their surroundings, the man who appeared familiar to the man under the concealment charm, nodded.
The man under the concealment breathed out in relief after the man nodded, and continued to gently push his way silently through the doorway, which was resting half open.
Once he was inside the atrium, he let out a shallow breath. It had been close, he knew that much. He was simply lucky he had aided the familiar man two years previously. It had involved money, a lot of money, at the time; he remembered that much.
He drew his cloak around him tighter, removing the concealment charm and strode powerfully towards the staircase.
The man hurried up the stairs, attempting to find the perfect balance between speed and silence. He reached the second floor, his long fingers resting on the banister of the grey concrete steps. He paused, listening. There was a faint rustling behind a door that led to the second floor corridor.
Continuing up the staircase, the man drew his wand once more. When he reached the fifth floor, he tapped his wand onto a rich burgundy door and it lit up with a purple circle. Content, he pushed the handle and stole into the fifth floor corridor.
Passing cubicles and offices, the man made his way to the end of the corridor. He paused at a locked door, which seemed darker and larger than any of the other doors he had passed. The man moved swiftly into the dark office. His shadow leaned upon the desk, which was littered with scraps of parchment and quills, as he placed his wand lightly against the locked cupboard.
"Alohamora," he whispered. "Lumos."
There was a gentle click and the door released itself and swung open. His fingers flicking over the files, he paused. It was there.
An immense feeling of a crucial job well-done enclosed over him and with long, pale fingers, he plucked the file from the cupboard and placed it on the desk.
Flipping through the documents, he grinned. It had all the information he needed to succeed.
The sound of approaching footsteps made the man freeze where he stood.
"He said to check the fifth floor," the muffled voice of a woman floated into the dim room.
The man snatched the file from the desk and tucked it under his cloak. It was resting against his heart, which had begun to beat incessantly faster. He moved back to the cupboard and locked it with his wand, then walked quickly to the centre of the room. Circling twice, he clicked his fingers and vanished.
The man and woman, who were check the fifth floor, opened the end office door and quickly peered around the room.
"Nothing," the man said to the woman, who shrugged.
As they turned and left the office, locking it behind them, a small whiff of black mist darted out of the door into the corridor and out an open window.
The man, who had become the black mist, flew over the grounds of the building and settled behind a tree just on the outskirts of the city. The mist rose and spun, turning him back into a solid figure. Stepping out onto the path, the man walked swiftly towards the corner of the street, before disappearing with a soft pop!
The man materialised into what appeared to be a small drawing room. A fireplace, surrounded by a black marble mantelpiece, contained a fire. Three pastel green gilded arm chairs sat around the fireplace with small coffee tables situated between them. The walls were a golden cream colour and drapes hung heavily over the two windows.
Seemingly familiar with where he was, the man balanced himself and dropped down into the closest arm chair. He shut his eyes and snapped his fingers. A sharp snap caused the man to lazily open one eye.
"Yes master?" an old, thin and balding man enquired.
"Caldwell, notify our guest that I have what I was looking for. Tell him to meet me in the study in ten minutes time."
Caldwell bowed, nodding his head and vanished.
The man stretched out his legs and hummed to himself. Today things had finally paid off. He had managed to locate what he had sought for five years. It had taken him the first four years alone to locate the prophecy, and narrow down the possibilities to one person, then the previous year to confirm and track down the whereabouts of this particular person…
Rising to his feet, the man left the drawing room, entering into a grand entrance hall. He headed up the west staircase and walked along a darkened corridor. It was still very early in the morning, and the man felt himself becoming more and more joyous as each moment passed.
The man reached a rich mahogany doorway and pushed both doors open. He sat down behind a desk, clearing it of any previous scraps of parchment, and withdrew the file from his cloak. He placed it delicately down onto the desk.
There was a knock at the door, and the man raised his head to see his guest standing in the doorway.
"You have it?" the guest asked.
The man grinned. "Sit."
"It was only a matter of time," the man began, as his guest sat down across the desk from him. "All I have to do is find the girl, as the Lord asked of me, five years ago."
"And you are sure of whom it is?" the guest asked, peering curiously at the file on the desk, then back up to the man's face. The black, greasy hair was pushed back from his face as it fell into his eyes. "There's no way you could be wrong?"
The man chuckled and stood up.
"Severus, I have made no mistake," the man said, pushing the file towards his guest. "Here, look at her. It is her, I am sure."
Snape pulled the file open and glanced briefly over the details, then at the picture of the five year old girl. He pushed the file back to the man.
"I… you have done well. Very well Lucius."
Lucius smiled wickedly and stared down at the open file.
The photograph of Hermione Granger stared back at him.