Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Prologue
Alan Masterson ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, his lungs burning in his chest. He had to get away, had to make it out of the forest. He pushed himself harder, furiously praying that his legs wouldn't give way. Behind him he heard his pursuer crashing through the undergrowth. He willed himself onward. He didn't dare look back, didn't even glance over his shoulder. He felt it's presence a few steps behind, he knew he had to make it home. Alan pressed forward, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes.
"Please…. Please, no…" he pleaded.
Alan ran on. He was nearing the edge of the woods now. He could see his village in the distance. Moonlight poured down through the canopy above, hope started to creep into his palpitating heart. He risked a glance back. His pursuer had disappeared, shadows clung to the trees, but there was no sign of the hunter. Alan slowed his pace as he cleared the forest. He had made it, he was safe. Halfway down the hill from the tree line to his village, he paused a moment to catch his breath. Hands on his knees, he was unaware of the shadow creeping up on him. Alan's last scream was cut short as the hunter tore out his throat.
Chapter One: Another Day, Another Dollar
Harry Potter sat at his cluttered desk, shuffling through the previous week's case reports. Harry sighed heavily. Paperwork was his least favorite part of being an Auror.
It had been four years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and Harry's life had been rather peaceful after the demise of Voldemort. Sure, as an Auror he was responsible for hunting down dark wizards, but his job wasn't nearly as bad as his conflict with Tom Riddle. Except for maybe the paperwork, Harry thought dryly. The cases he had been assigned to were all rather mild. There was the occasional death eater to track down, and every once in a while the chase wasn't completely free from danger. For the most part, however, it was all fairly simple work.
Harry paused his shuffling to look at the case he and Ron had been sent on last Wednesday. A muggleborn teenager in Devonshire had sacrificed a goat in an attempt to summon a demon to take vengeance on a girl who had rejected him. The situation could have been disastrous if the boy had actually known what he was doing. Fortunately his instruction in summoning had come from a made for TV movie.
Harry's wife Ginny had laughed uproariously when he had relayed the events to her that night over dinner. Harry himself couldn't help but chuckle himself. He wasn't laughing now, though. The paperwork for the case was extremely complicated. He had to triple file each individual section of his report with no less than four different ministry departments, including the Department of Magical Transportation. Harry had been boggled when the transportation department head, Amarick Vonesh, had requested a copy. According to Amarick, multi-dimensional demon gateways fell under his department's manifesto.
Harry sighed again as he finished filling out the report. He slid the paperwork over onto Ron's considerably messier desk and wondered how late his friend would be today. Ron never showed up to work on time, a trait that irked his wife, the ever punctual Hermione, to no end. Harry postulated that had the Head Auror had been anyone other than laid back John Mackenzie, Ron would most likely have been fired for his tardiness long ago. The fact that Harry and Ron were the best Aurors on John's staff probably didn't hurt either.
Harry went back to shuffling case reports and pondered what Mrs. Weasley would be cooking for the weekly family dinner on Sunday. Harry greatly enjoyed the regular festivities that Molly insisted on. Ever since the end of the war, Mrs. Weasley had instituted the weekly dinner as a way for her brood to stay close. With so many losses in the fight against Voldemort, Molly was adamant that she would not lose another loved one if she could help it. When Harry and Hermione had married into the Weasley family, the nurturing matriarch had been ecstatic. Then the addition of Percy and George's spouses and the birth of Bill and Fleur's daughter, Victoire, had brought even more joy into Mrs. Weasley's life. The Sunday dinners were now quite the affair. The burrow's small kitchen no longer accommodated the large family, and the meals had moved to the garden. Harry absolutely loved the chance to be with so many people he cared about, and despite her grumblings, he knew that Ginny loved it too.
Harry was so deep in thought over his mother-in-law's treacle tart that he didn't notice John Mackenzie walk up to his desk. John put his hand on Harry's shoulder and laughed as the young Auror jumped.
"Having fun with those case reports Potter?" the head Auror asked in his thick Scottish accent.
Only a few years older than Harry and Ron, rugged and strong with a thick scar running down the left side of his chin, John was jovial and easy going, but when push came to shove, he was no slacker in a fight.
"Oh, you know it boss." Harry replied. "I'm just finishing up on that summoning case from last week. I still need Ron's signature before I can send it to Amarick." Harry glanced over at his partner's still vacant seat.
"Well, whenever Weasley shows up, I have a new case for the two of you. There's been a rash of strange disappearances over in Ireland. I want you to go and scope it out."
"Any info on the cause of the disappearances?"
"Not a whit. Everything we have is in the case file. I've already filled out a requisition form for a portkey. You can fill it when you drop off that paperwork to Amarick. "
Harry groaned audibly and John chuckled. "Good luck."
Ron was running late. Scratch that, he was running extremely late. He was supposed to be at the office at eight sharp, and now the clock was pushing ten. He wasn't worried about what John Mackenzie would say, the man wasn't much of a stickler for the rules, Mackenzie himself been late for work on more than one occasion. He wasn't worried about Harry's reaction, either. No, it was Hermione's flustered face, giving him the lecture on punctuality yet again that he was dreading. He loved his wife more than anything in the world, more than food, more than quidditch, but Hermione had always been a rule follower. She had always pushed him in school, she had pushed him during his Auror training, and she pushed him to do his best at work. He appreciated it, he really did. He knew that he wouldn't have accomplished half the things he had if it hadn't been for his wife. But as much as he loved her, he hated hearing the same speech over and over. He knew it was for his own good, and he tried to get up earlier, tried to make it to work on time, but Ron just wasn't a morning person. Not that he would ever use that as an excuse to Hermione, at least not a second time. There were times when Hermione seemed to channel his mum's temper, and those were dangerous times indeed.
Ron clenched a bag of doughnuts in his teeth, shrugging his dark blue Auror robe on as he jogged through the atrium of the ministry towards the lifts.
"HOLTH THA THATES!" he shouted around his mouthful of paper bag.
Fortunately Holden Daniels, a middle aged wizard who worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation held the golden gates open and Ron dashed in. Buttoning up his robe and taking the bag out of his mouth he nodded to Holden.
"Thanks, I thought I was going to miss this one."
"No worries," Holden chuckled good-naturedly. "I'm running a bit late meself."
When the grills finally opened Ron rushed out, he rounded the corner and saw Harry walking down the hall. Ron met him halfway.
"Doughnut?"
"Thanks. I was wondering when you'd get here."
"Yeah, at least it's better than yesterday."
"Five minutes is not that much better." Harry laughed, taking a pastry from Ron.
"We have a new case. Six disappearances up in Ireland in the past two weeks, no clues, no leads."
"Ah, so we've got ourselves an easy one for a change?"
"Also you need to sign this report from last Wednesday."
"The demon one?" Ron asked as they headed back towards the lifts.
"That's the one, and you'd better take care of it now. We have to go pick up a portkey from Amarick, and he's been hounding me about this report for the past three days." Harry handed the stack of papers and a quill to Ron as they walked into the newly arrived lift. Ron hurriedly scratched his name on the necessary lines, and then handed the forms back to Harry.
"Is that the new case file?"
Harry handed over the file and finished his last bite of doughnut.
"Small town called Templeton, up in the mountains. Only about six hundred people, about seventy-five percent magical population."
Ron read along with what Harry was telling him.
"Wait a minute," he said, his eye catching something odd. "The muggles know about magic?"
"Yeah," Harry replied, "I was a bit shocked at first too. I guess it's a special case, though. The town is small enough and old enough that the villagers were aware of wizards before the Statute of Secrecy was implemented. The community petitioned the ministry for special consideration, and was granted it."
"Well, I guess it makes our job a bit easier, eh?"
The lift chimed that they had reached the right floor and they walked through the open gates. Brushing past wizards and witches waiting in line for apparition testing and floo related issues, Harry and Ron made their way to Amarick Vonesh's office. Harry knocked three times and the door opened on its own accord. They entered and found Vonesh sitting at his desk going through some papers.
Nearing fifty years of age, short, slightly heavy, and balding, Amarick Vonesh was not the most pleasant fellow in the ministry. He took his job too seriously and was often clashing with the other department heads.
"Morning," he said gruffly.
"Morning," Harry and Ron replied.
"I assume you have that case file for me, Potter?"
Harry handed over the finalized report and Vonesh looked it over closely, his nose scrunching up beneath his half-moon glasses.
"Standard sacrificial portal…. Goat's blood…. Circle of Ahnk Su Hapsenath." Vonesh muttered as he skimmed the pages.
"Uh, yeah. All of that." Harry said.
"Good, good." Vonesh looked up from the page. "Is there something else?"
"Mackenzie gave us this requisition for a portkey," Harry handed him the form.
"We have a case that we need to get to up in Ireland." Ron added.
Vonesh grabbed the form and huffed and puffed about 'lack of professional courtesy', and 'department heads sending lackeys'. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Harry surreptitiously stomped on his foot. Vonesh looked up at the two young Aurors, sighed, then put his wand tip to the form and authorized the requisition.
"You know where to take this."
Harry grabbed the paper and the two of them hurried out of the office.
"Sheesh, what is that man's issue?" Ron complained as they waited in the line for portkey acquisition.
"Which one?" Harry retorted.
Ron laughed, and the line inched forward.
"How long do you think this case is going to take?" Harry asked. It was Friday, and he really didn't want to miss the Weasley dinner.
"Not too long, I hope." Ron said," George and I had a bet on when Charlie would ask Naomi out. He lost and owes me quidditch tickets. There's a match between Ballycastle and Chudley on Monday night. The Cannons are third in the league this season. I'd love to see them go against the Bats."
"The Bats will take them down in no time flat. Their new seeker is a killer on her broom."
"Pfft, Morgan is okay. But Bartholomew is better. He had a record thirteen captures last season."
"Bartholomew is too bulky. Morgan is quicker. Ten galleons saw she gets to the snitch before Bartholomew even knows what's happening."
"You're on."
They shook hands as the line moved forward. They were discussing the pros and cons of the Steroskovich Strategy when a young girl with a round face called them forward to her window. Harry handed her the requisition form. She looked it over, stamped the form then directed them to portkey bay twenty-one. They walked down the hall and into their assigned bay. There was a tarnished bugle laying in the center of the room on a table. A large clock on the wall had a five minute countdown. They continued their conversation on quidditch while they waited. When the countdown reached one minute a blue light began to flash overhead. They moved forward and grabbed ahold of the bugle. At thirty seconds a cool female voice echoed in the room.
"Thank you for choosing the Ministry of Magic's reliable portkey service. Your portkey will take you to your destination in five, four, three, two, one…"
Harry felt the all too familiar jerk behind his navel and the world began to flash around him and Ron as they were whisked away to their next assignment.
New story time. I've been inactive in this medium for a while now, but with all the buzz surrounding the final HP movie's release, my plot bunnies have arisen from their hibernation. Hence this new story. This is going to be a fairly short fic, only about five chapters, give or take. As always, reviews are most welcome.