The Final Quarter Mile
Chasing a Snitch was like chasing the love of your life; catching it was well worth the one hundred and fifty points it scored. Maya had spent a lifetime chasing snitches up and down the Qudditch Pitch. Now she stared down the barrel of a firewhiskey, brooding about what could have been. Maya hadn't been on a broomstick in years. Not since that fateful morning when she'd faced him for the last time. Faced him, and fled, running as fast as her legs would carry her.
"You're not serious," the hag wrinkled her nose in disgust. The firewhiskey sizzled in her goblet, making the kind of whirring noise that suggested she might not want to drink it. "Maya, again?"
"Maya, again?" Maya mimicked in a high pitched voice, before downing the dreadful alcoholic substance.
"Well, you ain't having no more," the hag said, waving away the bartender. "You're coming with me."
"I am not going with you," Maya slurred, stumbling as her feet tried to find the floor. Bile rose in her throat as the hag practically carried her towards the door, step by step, inch by inch, until Maya finally lost consciousness and forgot everything else.
Birds, Maya thought groggily. Where the hell am I? She rolled over on the scratchy mattress that certainly did not feel like home. Wherever she was, it made her disorientation seem justified. The bedroom door creaked open, the noise sounding like gunshots to her addled mind. Maya jumped, skidded back towards the bed, and re-considered exiting the room.
"Bridget?" Maya asked, narrowing her eyes. Her vision cleared enough to tell her it was the hag from last night; her best friend since Hogwarts. Her only friend since she bowed out of the Qudditch World Cup.
"You awake," Bridget said, stating the obvious. "Good. We talk. Living room. Men here to see you, important Ministry men."
Maya nodded, trying to make sense of Bridget's mangled sentences. She didn't speak unless she needed to, and most of the time it was only two words; maybe three, if she was feeling generous. A whole explanation felt like something of a miracle. One Maya couldn't fully appreciate.
"I'll be there," Maya said, and begun the search for some clean robes.
"Blue robes on bed," Bridget said, pointing. "Cloak in closet. Get dressed. Brush hair. Meet in living room."
Maia arrived in the living room suitably dressed; the Ministry men were both present, and both looked extremely grim. What had she done now? It certainly couldn't be anything that bad, could it? If it were, surely she'd sense it? How could she be sure these men even were from the Ministry, dressed as they were? All these questions needed answers, fast. Maya needed to know if she should run.
"Miss Andrews," the Ministry Representative said in a deep voice. "We are glad to finally get the chance to meet you face to face."
Maya perked up. That didn't sound like the beginning of an arrest, that was for sure. Perhaps it would be something of great value, like a job. Maya could sense a job offer like most witches could find a shoe store; it was like second nature. A smile spread across her face. She did need the money.
"We hear you've been known for some fine ass—work," the second man said, with a grin all too real. Maya knew what he'd almost let slip. The word was 'assassinations' and tasted bittersweet in her mouth. "We want to know if you are interested in continuing such work. We have a contract for you."
"No contract," Maya said sharply, her mind clearing enough to understand that a contract – a legally binding contract – could get her into more trouble than it was worth. "I'll do it for the money. Give me half up front, and pay the rest after the job is done."
The men glanced at each other, and Bridget tapped her urgently on the shoulder. Maya guessed she wanted to tell her something, but Maya wasn't having it. She did not have time to wrestle with her non-existent conscience, especially today. The Ministry man pushed a generous handful of galleons towards her. Maya's mouth dropped open. This was more than enough – it would pay her rent for a year, maybe even fund the mortgage for a house.
"Who do you want eliminated?" Maya asked, her eyes shining as she accepted the coins.
"Harry Potter," the Ministry men said in one voice.