"So let me get this straight," said the man in front of me. "You are going to testify against the Hadrian Crime Syndicate."
"Yes," I said, gritting my teeth and trying to remain patient. "Specifically Atticus Hadrian."
Who happened to be my father and the head of the syndicate. We're a very tight family as you can see.
"And who are you?" he asked.
I faltered briefly. "I can't tell you that."
The receptionist looked exasperated. "I don't think you understand how the legal system works. You can't testify and remain anonymous. The courts will throw out any evidence you give us," he said, before pausing to collect his thoughts. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement have a policy of not taking random people of the street willing to testify. You could be some rejected girl or hooker."
"Do I look like a hooker to you?" I asked haughtily.
The receptionist looked me up and down. I was wearing very sensible clothes, specifically a jacket buttoned all the way up and jeans. Maybe the jeans were a little too tight, but not hooker tight. My dark, brown hair was put up in a messy bun. I hadn't enough time to fix it before I'd left the estate.
"You don't," he admitted. "But -"
I cut him off. "If I was a male offering to testify, you'd have already whisked me away back to meet with a team from the Wizengamot. I resent your implications and rudeness." I got up to leave. "I can see my testimony is not wanted. I will see myself out."
"Sit back down," the receptionist said irritably. "This is common procedure. We have to confirm your identity. When someone doesn't tell us who they are, we assume that they have no evidence to offer. Especially against the Hadrian Crime Syndicate. I will ask this one last time. Who are you?"
"I can't tell you," I said, my eyes flashing.
"I think we're…" he trailed off, before gathering my meaning finally.
He hesitated. "Are you a high ranking member of the Hadrian Crime Syndicate?"
"Yes."
"If I find the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, will you talk to her?" he asked.
"Yes."
It was about time. I wasn't being that subtle.
The receptionist jumped up and ran back behind his desk into the labyrinth of cubicles and hallways. I waited idly, examining my nails. My left pinky's nail polish was chipping. I would have to fix that when I got back.
He finally came back, following a woman with frizzy brown hair. I immediately recognized her as Hermione Granger, head of the department and former Minister for Magic. She sat down at the receptionist's desk and glanced at him. "You are dismissed, Gordon."
Granger turned her full attention on me. "You know who I am."
It wasn't a question, but a statement. She continued. "So you know how busy I am and if I find out that this is just a waste of my time, so help me god, I will arrest you for obstruction of justice and -"
"I'm Cressida Hadrian," I blurted out. There was something about Granger that made me trust her.
She raised an eyebrow and pulled out her wand. I panicked for a second, before realizing that she was casting a summoning charm. A file came flying out of the labyrinth behind her and landed open in front of her, without a single page coming free.
That was very impressive. I could tell that she was a very powerful witch. In the meantime, Granger was examining the file closely. She looked up at me and then back down.
"We're going to hold you for an hour," Granger said finally, "to make sure you're not using Polyjuice. Then we'll talk."
She stood and put her hand on my arm. "Follow me."
Granger guided me through the catacombs, occasionally waving her wand and shooting silvery wisps. Finally, she stopped and gestured for me to enter a small conference room. "I'll stay with you until one of the Aurors gets here."
"You're assigning the Aurors to this case?" I asked incredulously. My family was bad but not Dark Arts bad.
"We don't know a lot about your family," admitted Granger. "Rather overkill than underkill."
I nodded. To be honest, I couldn't be sure that no one in my family had dabbled in the Dark Arts. If anyone did it would be my mother's brother, Caliban. That man was as evil as he was ugly. He's lucky he has money or else Aunt Deirdre would never have looked at him twice. But I digress.
Granger nodded at one of the chairs facing away from the door and I sat down, making myself comfortable. She poured a glass of water from a jug she had conjured after closing the door and handed it to me. "Thirsty?"
I took it gratefully, nodding my head in gratitude. I guzzled it back which was a complete disregard for manners. Mother would kill me.
There was a knock at the door and Granger turned to open it. I ignored the temptation to turn around and look to see who it was. I did, however, listen to the muted conversation behind me.
"Not her," a man's voice said behind me. Hmmm, his voice sounded familiar to me. Must've been someone from my Hogwarts days.
"Don't be ridiculous," Granger snapped. "Your father specifically assigned you to this so unless you want to go tell him that you're shirking your responsibilities…"
The man sighed. "Aunt Hermione…"
So he was a nephew of Granger. Not that that helped at all. There's so many Weasleys, it's hard to keep track of them. But she had said that his father assigned him to me which means his father is a high ranking member of the Aurors. So his father is either Ron Weasley of Harry Potter. Can't be Ron Weasley because no family is that messed up. So he's Potter's son which means... Oh God… You've got to be shitting me.
"Ms. Hadrian?" said Granger. "I believe you know my nephew James Potter? He'll be the Auror assigned to you. You'll be working very closely together."
I put on a fake smile and stood up to face them. Was it too late to change my mind about this whole thing? Shit. Shit. Shit.
"Hello Potter."