Title: Grim Fate
Rating: Mature
Era: Next Gen
Genre: mystery, horror/dark
Warnings: violence, language
Characters: Fred Weasley II, Alice Longbottom II
Length: WiP
Summary: "Death is the consequence of life."

The killer leaves his message behind at crime scenes taunting Aurors and the Daily Prophet alike.

Chapter One:

The rain pounded the pavement as Alice ran for cover under the awning of a nearby sweets shop. She cursed the blasted weather for ruining her morning jog. It had been a glorious early morning when she left her flat twenty-five minutes earlier. The sun had been rising above the towering buildings of London, (the slightest sign of an impending storm but nothing worth worrying about. The weather had instantly changed midway through her run, soaking her to the bone as she ran.

Running cleared her mind of the troubles of work: petty cases built up on her desk while lesser wizards were given the high-profile assignments. She tried hard to keep her disappointment from showing through. Who was she to say she deserved the promotion over someone else? She would prove her worth sooner or later, and then her bosses would have no excuse to deny her the promotion.

Checking her watch, Alice groaned and began her run home before she was late for work. It would do her no good to be late when she was desperately trying to earn the promotion that everyone had been talking about for days. Alice wasn't one to go on rumour alone, nor was she the type of person to do whatever it took to get a raise. If the work was done inadequately, she would not be happy with it; if she arrested the wrong person, she would be disappointed in herself.

As she ran, the wind and rain bit into her skin until she felt nothing but the pavement beneath her feet. Alice had always enjoyed the rain, the gentle melodic sound of water flowing haphazardly towards the earth. She admitted to herself that running through a storm was neither enjoyable nor relaxing. Stress found its way into her shoulders and neck as she passed the many shops she often frequented. If she was lucky, she might have enough time to stop for a spot of coffee before work.

It took her another twenty minutes to reach her flat as the rain pelted the windows of the building in front of her. Once inside, she shook off the excess water before taking the lift to the third floor. While she had wanted a place on one of the top floors, she wasn't going to give up her chance to live in a building that employed a doorman, and had a secure entry. She felt safe in her building and that was all that mattered.

By the time she arrived in her flat, she found her copy of the Daily Prophet had been delivered along with a letter from her mum. Ignoring both, she walked through the cluttered apartment for the bathroom with the intention of a shower before work. She could read her mother's letter at work before their daily meeting if she wasn't late.

Stripping out of her soaked workout clothes, Alice turned on the faucets and stepped inside the hot water as the bathroom filled with steam. She stood there a moment, letting the hot water ease away the tension that had seeped into her shoulders. It would do her no good to be stressed when she went into work, if anything it would make her day go by slower. It was why she made sure to run every morning, it helped relax her.

After her quick shower, she disappeared into her bedroom to change, ignoring the pile of laundry and the clutter of parchment that was scattered across the floor. Her flat was a disaster, and if she had time she would actually clean it, but she wasn't a tidy person to begin with. She rather liked the lived-in look, much to her mother's dislike. Of course, she would never let her mother loose on the mess, or else she'd never find anything ever again.

Rushing out of her room dressed and prepared for work, Alice grabbed the letter from her mother off the table and promised that when she got home she'd do the dishes that had piled up in the sink. Stuffing the letter into her pocket, she Flooed to the Ministry of Magic and was lost into the crowd of workers all heading towards their respective offices.

As Alice waited impatiently for the lift, her partner and long-time friend, Albus, appeared suddenly at her side.

"Morning, Albus," Alice said as they entered the lift together.

"Thought you were gonna be late again," Albus laughed, and put his arm around her shoulder. "Dad bet me five galleons you'd be late today. I bet you'd be on time."

"I never pictured your dad as a betting man. I'm glad you won at least. You're five galleons richer."

"Did you hear the rumour?"

"What rumour?"

"That Ambrosia Zabini was promoted." ((I really like that name! From A to Z))

"I'm not surprised, Albus. She's an amazing journalist, and it does help that she's married to Cole. I swear he leaks more information to the Prophet than any other Auror. How he keeps his job is beyond me."

"You know that no one really believes there is a leak in the department," Albus said, implying that she was out of her mind.

"Except for the fact that there is absolutely no way that Ambrosia would have the information she does any other way. He's a leak, and one day your dad will see it and fire him. He's making us all look bad, Al."

The lift stopped on their floor and they exited together. Harry stood at the doorway to their office, checking his watch as they approached. Alice shook her head and slipped in beside him, ignoring the soft clink of five galleons being dropped into Albus's hand. While Alice admired Harry for what he had done well before she was born, she had to admit that he was a pretty decent boss. If she had to choose anyone to work for, Harry Potter was the one person she'd pick. While he may not have been the man that would earn her, her promotion, he had always guided her and his son in the right direction, offering advice when needed.

The annoying hum of the generator behind his building only served to irritate Fred all the more. In front of him sat his recent assignment for the Daily Prophet. Covering Politics was not nearly as exciting as some of the other jobs he could have applied for. Of all the classes he excelled at in school, he never once thought he would be sitting behind a desk writing.

Sighing in annoyance, Fred slammed his quill down on his table, rolled up his parchment, and stuffed it precariously into the inside pocket of his robes. If the generator wasn't the worst of the noise, he could have easily finished his article, but he had to contend with the couple above him having another argument.

Slamming the front door, Fred stormed out of his flat and made his way to the lift all the while trying to ignore the first signs of a headache. He should have listened to his dad and gone into Quidditch: at least then the noise would have been from screaming fans instead of screaming neighbours.

Once in the quiet of the lift, he counted off the reasons why he was still living in the blasted flat where night after night, he had to listen to one fight after another: a constant reminder that he was not going to use his parents' money to find a better flat. If he could just get a better paying position at the Prophet, then he would be set. He could move out, he wouldn't be a disappointment to his mum and dad, and Roxanne would stop pestering him about his wasted talents.

Out of the busy street, Fred took notice of the rain for the first time and cursed his bad timing. Had he left earlier he would have avoided the downpour. No matter how bad the weather was, he wasn't Apparating for a ten minute walk.

By the time he reached work, he was soaked through and in a far worse mood than when he left his flat. Bad moods were unusual for Fred he was always in good spirits, enjoying a good laugh with his fellow reporters. On rare occasions, he could be found locked away in his flat and writing articles, rather than joining the rest of the staff in the office. He hardly ever complained about anything, but there was only so much one bloke could take before everything spiralled out of control. Fred Weasley was reaching that point as he shuffled through the office, heading for his desk to finish his article.

"Why didn't you use a Water Repelling Charm, Freddie?" his cousin Dominique asked when she saw his state of disarray.

"Didn't feel like it," he snapped and pulled out his article.

"Bad mood?" she asked.

"You've no idea, Dom."

"How long they keep you up this time?"

"Quarter to four this morning, then they were at it again just before I left. I swear they fight more than any other couple I know. I can't fathom why they are together."

"And I can't fathom why you still live there. You know I have an extra room."

"I don't know, Dom. That's like admitting defeat. I'd never hear the end of it from Roxanne."

"Just a few days then? You look like death warmed over," Dominique asked, not giving Fred much choice.

"Alright, a few days then I'll go back to my place. Just... don't tell Roxanne?"

"Your secret is safe with me."

Dominique disappeared behind the glass doors a minute later to talk to their editor about her upcoming article. It didn't surprise Fred that she had become a reporter. She was brilliant with words, and her articles often made the front page, while his were lost somewhere in the back. No one really cared what was going on inside the Ministry unless it was really important and if it was that important Dominique covered it.

Fred set to work feverishly, writing out his article, in hopes of making it into the evening edition. He had promised it would be finished by that morning and he was nowhere near done. There was no way that he was going to disappoint his editor by putting the article off another day. If only Politics was more interesting, Fred mused as he quickly threw his ideas onto the parchment.

"Weasley, you finished with that article?" Tessa Maloney asked appearing behind him.

"Not yet, but it'll be ready soon. I just have a few more lines to write, and then it's all yours," Fred insisted, ignoring the looming shadow of his boss.

It took him nearly an hour to complete the few lines he had left of his article, but when it was done, he was satisfied that it was worthy of being printed. After reading it over several times and correcting any glaring errors, he finally approved of it. Placing the parchment on Maloney's desk, Fred returned to his and looked at the dozen other files sitting there waiting for his attention. If only Tessa would give him something else to work on. Everyone else was so busy with their own important and interesting assignments which always left him covering the boring stuff that only his Uncle Percy ever read and commented on. What he needed was something new and exciting, something that would put his name on the front page. If only he knew the right person to ask.