When Muggle met Magic
The story of the Finnegans
Commander Shane Finnegan of the Garda - the Irish police - watched the robed figure make their slow but sure way down the twisty mountain road to his check-point. The figure carried an old fashioned leather suitcase in each hand, and walked on foot. They were swathed in a billowing dark cloak, and under it appeared to be wearing a crimson robe of some sort.
Shane sighed and turned to his second-in-command. "Looks a likely suspect this one, eh?"
His second nodded. "Why we got t' get the weird ones on our shift I don't know."
As the figure approached, Shane realized that it wasn't a robe, but a dress that the figure wore. It was an old dress, deep dark red velvet that rippled as the wearer walked. The black cloak covered most of her bodice, but what was visible indicated that it had some sort of Victorian corset- type fastening.
"Jesus! Looks like something off the set of a Shakespeare." His counterpart observed.
Shane nodded. She was now near enough that he didn't want to express agreement with his second, lest she hear him and take offense and become uncooperative.
He stepped away from the stone wall he'd been leaning on, and stood in the middle of the narrow road, his team moving to flank the figure as she reached them.
"Mornin', Ma'am. My name is Commander Shane Finnegan. No need to be alarmed - everyone passin' through here recieves the same treatment. Precautions, you see. We've had a few, ah, killin's recently, and we're on full alert. Usually a peaceful town this, but, well, ye can understand that we want t' keep it peacful."
A smooth voice suggesting a polite but cool smile said, "Of course I understand, Commander," from beneath the cowl of the cloak.
He nodded brusquely. "Right. Well, if ye'll permit my men t' perfrom a quick search of yer cases, and hand me yer papers and cloak so I can check them, ye'll be on yer way in no time."
She obligingly placed her suitcases on the ground, and rummaged for her papers. She drew them from an inside pocket of her cloak and handed them to him.
Whilst casually flicking through them, Shane attempted a cheerful conversation to go with the unusually cheery weather. "So, ye walk far then?"
"From the last village."
"Nice enough day fer it. Movin' here are ye?"
"I'll be stayin' fer a little while."
"Oh right. Hope ye enjoy yerself." He looked up with a smile, handing the papers back.
"I'm sure I will."
"Now ah, if ye don't mind, duty dictates I must search yer cloak too..." Shane found himself almost hoping she'd be awkward. He'd decided she had a very nice voice, and was intrigued.
Unfortunately for that part of him, she wasn't awkward, and slipped her hood back and cloak off without protest.
It was a moment before he could move his arm to take the proffered garment.
One of the folk-tales so popular around there was that of banshees - fearful wailing women who killed with their hideous shrieks and cries. A slight variation that Shane had heard often in the local pub, was that banshees were born the most beautiful creatures on earth, that only as lonliness kicked in did they become the terrifying images in Irish childrens' nightmares.
As he spent that moment staring at the revealed face, Shane decided that the folk-lore could be true. That he'd just found an - as yet - perfectly unlonely and happy banshee girl.
Amused blue-grey eyes regared him from beneath longish lashes and perfectly formed brows. Her lips were red without make-up, and very light freckles mottled her nose and cheeks. Her balanced features were framed by a smooth, thick mane of copper brown hair.
"Thank ye." Shane managed, in a hoarse whisper, as he finally took the cloak.
There wasn't much in the pockets - nothing at all to cause the Garda suspicion - and he handed the cloak back shortly. She took it then turned to watch the rest of the team repacking her belongings.
Shane fidgeted in the silence, and couldn't help but start talking again. "They won't be long, I assure ye, Ma'am."
She hadn't put her hood back up, and with a brief flicker of a smile said, "Please, there's no need fer the 'ma'am', ye've seen my papers, ye know my name."
"Ah - of course." Shane nodded, ashamed to feel a flush rising on his cheeks.
But to his surprise, it was her that spoke next. "Are ye on duty here all day?"
He let out a relieved laugh. "No, no. We're on shifts. I'll have tonight an' tomorrow off, then on tomorrow's night patrol, an' then Sunday and Sunday night off, then on duty Monday...an' so on, until we've secured the er, trouble."
"If it's not confidential, d'ye mind me askin' what's been happenin' around here?"
"Well, I can tell ye bits 'n' pieces, but it's not pleasent, I warn ye..." He trailed off, waiting for a response, but all she did was raise her eyebrows. "Well, we've had a few suspected murders recently. No apparent pattern to the killin's, other than all were out of their houses after dark, and all suffered pretty gruesome injuries. Slashes an' so forth. It's not nice. We've never had anythin' like this here before. But I do suggest ye stay indoors after dark as much as possible."
She nodded thoughtfully, but was denied the chance to express an opinion by the second in command announcing that her bags checked out.
Shane waved her off, and watched her continue that leisurely - but quite rapid - walk on towards the village.
"Well, turns out she's not that much of a suspect after all." He mused.
His second snorted. "Not in your eyes, certainly."
"What's that s'posed t'mean?"
"Nothin'...nothin'..."
* * *
Taking advantage of their forthcoming day off, Shane's team were enjoying themselves in the local. It was a Friday night, and the pub was packed. Most of them were drunk already, despite the summer sun only just reaching the horizon at eight o'clock.
"Pity the poor buggers out there t'night!" One man shouted, and many yelled their agreement whilst raising glasses and laughing at the other teams' misfortune.
Shane was one of the few sober men in the room. He had been nursing the same pint all night, and although he laughed with the others, his thoughts often wandered. He was once more going through the list of possible hotels, motels and travel inns that an outsider could stay for a little while in the tiny village, when his unasked question - where was she staying? - was answered. She came down the narrow set of steps behind the bar, and slipped through the crowds towards a table in the corner, catching the land-lady on the way and ordering something.
Shane found himelf standing without any knowledge as to how he got there. His half-full pint glass still in hand, he headed for her table, not really sure what he was going to say.
Once more, though, he didn't need to worry. Her face lit up in a grin when she saw him, and she pulled a chair out. "Hi. Enjoying yer time off?"
"Not as much as some of my men seem t' be," almost on cue, one Garda laughed so hard at some joke, that he toppled backwards off his stool, laughing even as he hit the carpet.
She laughed along with him and nodded thanks to the land-lady as her drink was placed on the table.
"Not much of a drinker?" she asked, gesturing towards the half- emptied pint glass between them.
"Actually I am usually. Usually the one to make the biggest fool of himself."
"Oh. I wish I hadn't interrupted ye. I'd have loved t' see that." She smiled coquettishly.
He grinned. "Actually, I'm having much more fun now. And this sort'a fun doesn't leave ye feelin' rotten in the mornin'."
She laughed again. "But 'temporary amnesia' is my best excuse from gettin' outta work!"
"What sorta job d'ye do?"
She leaned back in her chair and rested her head on the wall, regarding him with steady and thoughtful eyes. "Same kinda thing as you. Protectin' people, things, animals, laws. Only in more discreet ways."
Shane raised his eyebrows. "Secret service?" he asked with a lopsided grin.
"Now if I was I couldn't tell ye!" she laughed. "Don't go tryin' t' make me reveal my secrets t' ye like that!" She playfully batted the arm he'd laid across the table.
"Have ye' lived in this quiet little place all yer life, then?"
It was a blatent subject change, but Shane ignored it. "Nah. I'm a Dublin boy, me. How 'bout you?"
"Donegal."
"Nice," he said, and meant it. "Ye live in one of those big country houses?"
Her expression turned wistful. "Yeah. 'Twas in the woods, in the mountains. Had a little field for the ponies, and a little garden for the vegetables. Didn't go t' town much. Went t' bordin' school in Scotland. Came as a bit of a shock t' the system."
"I can imagine. It was like that for me, when I moved from Dublin t' here. I'd never seen so much green in my life."
The sun sank lower outside the pub, and the Gardas grew more bawdy inside the pub, but neither Shane Finnegan nor Ellen Donaghue noticed. They talked and laughed for hours - just friendly chat - and found that they had quite a bit in common. When the lady-lady finally announced closing time, the team of Garda stumbled out into the deepening twighlight. Shane hesitated, not wanting the delightful evening to be cut short.
Elly frowned, watching the last of the other customers filter out. "I though ye said it wasn't a good idea t' be out in the dark at the moment?"
"It's not." Shane stated, also watching the regulars leave.
"How far away d'ye live?" She asked.
The unexpected question brought his head round. "A few streets. Why?"
"Is that far?" Worry seemed to be creeping into her expression.
Shane hesitated, "Ah...it's a little way. Takes me about twenty minutes at night. Don't worry about me, though. Whatever it is that's killin' these people doesn't seem t' like alcohol-flavoured blood. It's not gone fer anyone outta the pub yet."
"You shouldn't have alcohol-flavoured blood after one pint." Elly protested. "Take a room here fer the night. Please. It'd put my mind at rest." She knew it was very forward to ask this of a man she'd only met that morning, but she had a bad feeling about whatever it was that was attacking the locals.
He spent a moment just studying her face, and judged that the concern there was genuine. "Okay, I'll see if she's a room t' spare. But if she's not I'm headin' home. No taxi, no nothin', okay?"
Elly clenched her jaw and nodded, biting back another plea. She liked the policeman, and didn't want to see anything happen to him.
He walked up to the bar, and before the land-lady could complain that he should be gone, asked quietly, "Have ye any rooms free tonight, Ma'am?"
She frowned and studied her records. "I'm sorry, young man, there's only one bed free in the place tonight, and that's in that young lady's room."
Shane froze. A tough desicion, but he decided quickly. He turned back to Elly. "No rooms, sorry. I'd best be goin' now."
She stood up and took hold of his arm. "No. I - I...don't."
His brow creased, and he turned back to her, gently sitting her down with a hand on her shoulder. "Elly, do ye know somethin'?"
She bit her lip and looked down. "Yes."
"Tell me. It's important. I can tell."
"Not here." She stood again, and led him up the stairs, past a disgusted look from the lady-lady. He followed her into her room, slightly on edge, and feeling very awkward.
"What is it, Ellen?"
She sat down on the edge of her bed and shook her head, as if controlling some internal conflict. "I told ye about my work."
"Vaguely."
"Well, I can't be much more than vague, okay? I'm sorry. The attacker is an animal, yes?"
"We think it could be." Shane nodded.
"Are there any reliable eyewitness descriptions?"
"Well, a few mentioned that it was very large. About two meters long, and one and a half high."
Her eyes widened at that. "Anything else?"
"Well most of the village hears it when it, ah, speaks. It sounds like a cross between a wolf and and a big cat of some sort."
At this Elly nodded. "I think it's some sort of modified panther or wild cat."
"Modified? How?"
She became very evasive at this. "Well, there are ways, surely? Maybe it's just a mutant."
"Hmm." Shane wasn't convinced, but he didn't press further.
The sound of singing outside drew Elly to the window. The Gardas were down there, singing, "She is handsome, she is pretty, she is the belle of Belfast City!"
Elly laughed, and opened the window to sing back at them (a lot better) "She is a-courting one-two three, pray would ye tell me who is she?" She closed the window and drew the curtains before they could start again, and turned with a smile back towards the room.
Shane grinned, deciding it would be okay to leave the case for now. "Now, I shall be leaving, Ma'am."
Elly pulled a face, but it was only an attempt to hide her smile, Shane could see. "But ye might get attacked by them drunks!"
"Well, Then ye can rescue me from them by distractin' them with yer lovely singin' from the window."
She laughed. "Get goin', ye flatterer!" and gently but firmly pushed him out of the door. He turned, grinning at this show of force, and to his great surprise, she planted a gentle kiss on his lips, before flushing a deep red and vanishing behind the door.
* * *
Elly sat down, sure her heart was going to escape her ribcage. A childish grin was on her face, but she repeated to herself in a high- pitched whisper, "I shouldn't have done that! Oh, God, why did I do that?"
Finally she composed herself enough to reach into the bottom of her suitcase, and into the inside pocket of the skirt on her dress. She pulled a thirteen inch piece of wood from the pocket. The wood was smooth and polished, but looked well worn. She pointed it at the bottom of the suitcase and whispered something.
The bottom of the suitcase slid back, revealing a store of parchment and quills and ink pots. She took a piece of parchment, a quill, and a pot and went to the desk. She wrote Have arrived. Gained a little information. Possible hexed beast, most likely to be a lynx.
She folded the parchment into a paper aeroplane, and waved the wooden stick at it again, whispering something different this time. The plane took off from her hand, and she rushed to open the window as it hurtled towards it. The plane shot across the Irish sea in the cover of darkness, heading straight for the Ministry of Magic headquarters in London.
* * *
There was a knock on Ellen's door the next morning, and at first she wondered who had the right to wake her up so early, but then she saw that it wasn't that early. "Ten?!" She cursed, leaping from the bed and racing to the door. She opened it a fraction, and peeked out, concious that her nightdress wasn't particularly decent.
When she saw who it was, she felt a desire to close the door and run back to bed in embarassement. "Uh...hi, Shane."
He smiled, and cocked his head to one side, as if peeking in round the door. "Hi there. Ye left somethin' last night ye know?"
"Oh...?" She opened the door a bit wider, still keeping mostly behind it.
He leaned forwards, rummaging in his pockets. "Ah...here it is!" His mouth spread into a dazzling grin and he held out his hand, clenched in a loose fist.
Ellen, intrugued, also leaned forwards. "What is it?"
Then he opened his hand, and slid it along her cheek to the back of her neck. He brought his face to hers, "This." And he kissed her. Not a shy, embaressed kiss like the one she'd given him last night, but this one a proper, passionate kiss.
When she opened her eyes, Ellen found herself with her arms wrapped around Shane's neck, and also discovered to her surprise, that they were now standing in the middle of her room. She giggled. "How on earth could I leave somethin' like that behind? Ye'll have t' help me look after it, as I'm obviously not responsible enough..."she kissed him back.
* * *
By midday, Shane and Elly were sitting outside the pub in the sun, and discussing anything and everything once more. They were laughing about something - or nothing - when a dismayed shout alerted everyone in the street.
Shane, Garda instincts kicking in, was up and racing down the road in an instant. He was surprised to find Elly hot on his heels. They rounded the corner at the end of the street where the cry had come from, and saw an old couple who had obviously been walking their dog, staring into the hedge of someone's garden. The dog was sniffing with interest at something in the hedge, and as they neared, Shane could see the darkening of the leaves around that area.
He put a hand out to stop Elly. "Don't. Believe me, it's not somethin' ye need t' see."
She opened her mouth to protest, as was her nature, but something in his dark eyes warned her that he was serious about this.
Shane continued at a walk, and came between the couple and the hedge, arms spread as if to block their entire view of what he knew to be resting in the dirt behind him. "Okay. It's alright. There's no need fer ye t' look anymore. C'mon," he put a hand on each bony shoulder and steered them slightly further down the road. "Ye alright, bother of ye?"
They nodded, obviously in shock.
"Okay, I'm gonna need t' get ye t' the station, they'll ask ye a few questions, but then ye'll be free t' go. Ye need anythin' from 'em, though just ask, yeah?"
They nodded again.
Shane pulled his mobile from a pocket and dialed the police station's local number. "Hello? Chief? Yep, it's me. We got another. Looks like we'll need a transport for the couple o' witnesses too..."
* * *
Elly had to admit that she was impressed by the efficiency of the Muggle police force, and in a way was disappointed that Shane wasn't just a one-off when it came to sharpness and discipline. She wacthed from a distance as the homicide squad bagged the corpse and loaded it into their van. Only then did she approach the Chief.
He was convinced easily by her fake ID that told him she was with a secret Irish police force - partially because of the spells cast on it - and she found herself assigned to Shane's squad for that night's duty.
* * *
Shane looked incredulous. "You're with some secret police thing? What, a government conspiracy?"
"No, no..." Elly toyed with the idea of telling him, knowing it was foolish. He'd never believe.
"C'mon, ye can tell me..." he grinned - that grin, that always got her - and pulled her gently nearer to him on the couch they shared in the pub's lounge.
That grin always got her. But not this time. Elly sighed in what she hoped was a resigned way. "Okay, yes, yer right. It's sorta like a government conspiracy, only - but don't tell yer chief! - it's not really, ah, authorised by the governemt..."
His eyebrows shot up. "Ooh...wow. Okay." but he didn't seem too concerned, as he wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her near again.
"You been on a night shift, yet?" Elly asked, cuddling into his shoulder.
"Nah. This'll be my first one. But you'll be there if I get afraid o' the dark." there was that grin again.
"How long have we got?"
Her eyes were closed, but she felt his hold change as he glanced at his watch. "About three hours."
Elly nodded, wishing that she could stay hidden in Shane's arms all night, and not have to go out and do her job.
* * *
After putting together her small night pack, Elly moved to the window, noticing movement. A tiny paper dart flew through the yellowing sky towards her. She caught it deftly between her forefinger and thumb as it shot through the open window. She unfolded it and read; Secure beast at all costs. Muggles are NOT to be permitted a live capture. Don't forget to perform necessary memory wipes.
Elly froze. She hadn't thought that far. She knew that she could easily carry out the proper spells to wipe the Gardas' memories, but she thought about having to do it to Shane. She could see his brown eyes, so dark they were nearly black, and they stared at her, hurt, confused, scared. Elly shuddered. She couldn't. She sighed, knowing she should never have gotten involved. She'd have to leave, anyway. How would he react to that?
Before she could contemplate further horrors, there was a knock at the door. "Elly? Are ye ready?"
She shook herself out of the daze and threw the parchment on the fire. "Sure, I'm coming!" She'd just have to do it. But she couldn't. But she had to.
* * *
Shane was unaware of it, but when they reached the start point for the patrol, Elly was still struggling with her duty and her emotions.
He was all business however, and soon had an orderly group of Garda marching through the surrounding area of the town. Elly walked beside him, the dart gun in her hands looking out of proportion there, and after a few minutes whispered, "Have any of the patrols ever been attacked?"
Shane eyed her from beneath a raised eyebrow. "I was wonderin' when yed ask that. Yes. Almost every one has been, but the beast's never been hit. It's odd, seein' as the thing's allegedly such a big target." He didn't add, The last patrol was the only one not attacked. He didn't know what that meant, and he didn't want to trouble Elly with that information.
The night seemed to be going quietly (and slowly) enough, until around midnight, when the beast's cry pierced the still and muggy night air. The patrol stopped dead. Shane wished more then ever that the description he had given Elly of it was not true. But it was, and the wolf/panther sounded very near. Not wanting to appear as scared as he was, Shane whispered to his men, "Okay, remain calm. Ye know yer trainin'. Fan out, keep yer eyes peeled, and fer Christ's sake don't make any large noises or movements. We gotta take this thing down, but not permanently."
They were in an open field dotted with old cow pats and groups of nettles. It was surrounded by a tall but scawny hedge of deciduos trees on three sides and a stone wall accompanying the road on the other. There was no cover away from the hedges, and the gibbous moon bathed the area in silvery light. Consequently, the beast should have been spotted long before it reached them, but the first sign they had of it reaching the party was a shriek from the farthest back member of the patrol.
Eleven dart guns swung towards the sound. The twefth gun had already been crushed by the beast's mighty jaws, along with the owner of the gun. Elly reached for her waistband, her hand searching frantically for her wand even as she moved forwards with the rest of the team. As the first wave of men reached it, the creature batted away each gun before going for the holder, yowling again and again.
A casually discarded dart gun jarred Elly's elbow as she fumbled her wand out, and she felt her fingers numb momentarily and drop the all important magic stick. She feel to her knees, groping in the commotion for it. She heard Shane's cry of alarm. "Elly! Are you okay?"
Hurriedly, she replied, "I'm fine! Just tripped! Be with you in a second, just getting my breath." As she talked, though, she continued her search, finally, coming to sense when her search took her roaming fingers through a nettle clump. "Accio wand!" The wand shot to her hand, and she leapt to her feet, seeing the remaining five Gardas - Shane included, thankfully - attempt to encircle the beast.
She raced forwards, wand and arm extended towards the area of her target that she could see in a gap between two Garda. When she was about ten meters away, she let out a shout of "Avada kedavra!" and watched as if from a distance as deadly green light left her wand tip and bowled into the cursed beast. The creature fell with a final howl, and only a thin trail of smoke rose from its fur to indicate where the curse had hit it.
By the time the Gardas had turned to face her, Elly had decided what to do. She gestured at four of the shocked men, and in one motion - "Obliviate!" - erased their memories of how the creature had died. They slid to the ground in a peaceful sleep.
Now she turned to Shane, expecting the hurt, confused, scared expression she had imagined. Instead, there was only a strange sort of nervous grin mixed with respect. "Whoa, whoa! Okay, be calm, Elly! I - I don't know what ye did t' them, or t'...it...but I, whatever sorta secret weapon that is, I swear I'll never reveal yer secret!"
Elly almost laughed. Then she decided somthing else. "Shane. This may seem like a very odd question, but I have t' know so I can plan what t' do next. Durin' our night and day together, did ye ever wonder about spendin' life with me?"
He looked thunderstruck. "Uh...I guess. Yeah, I did. But - hey! - let's not rush things, eh?"
Elly smiled. "No, ye misunderstand me. I need t' know, so that I can judge whether or not you need this - " she gestured to the sleeping Gardas, " - doing t' ye."
Shane dropped his dart gun and held up his hands, palms facing her, "Whoa! Whoa! No! I'm fine, I don't need that doin' t' me, I swear! I - "
"Shane, do ye believe in magic?" Elly interrupted.
"I...Wha'? Er...dunno." He looked even more lost. "Er...I guess I would, given some proof."
She nodded, and said, "Lumos!" Her wand's tip lit up.
He forgot his position of surrender imeediately, and shook his head, blinking. "Wha'...?"
"Nox!" The wand went dark again. Then she pointed at a crumpled dart gun by Shane's feet. "Pick it up. It's broken, see?"
"Just a bit!" he said with a worried laugh.
"Hold it still."
"What?!"
"Just do it, Shane, I promise the spell won't touch ye." She aimed with her wand, and..."Noxious flamaris reparo!"
The crumpled metal twisted to it's original shape, and wires and circuits righted themselves.
Shane promptly dropped it. "Holy sh - "
"Do ye believe in magic, Shane?"
"I do!" he practically shouted.
Desperately relieved, Elly tucked her wand away again, and raced the few steps towards him. "I'm sorry, Shane, but I had t' know that yed believe me."
He looked shaken, but still managed that grin. "Hey, 'course I believe ye...scary stick or no scary stick."
Elly grinned, and bit back the response that came to mind first. "So ye don't mind that I'm a witch? I work fer the Ministry of Magic, ye know?"
Shane closed his eyes, and gestured for her to slow down. "I think...yer goin' t' need t' explain a lot t' me."
"We've got time." She replied.
The story of the Finnegans
Commander Shane Finnegan of the Garda - the Irish police - watched the robed figure make their slow but sure way down the twisty mountain road to his check-point. The figure carried an old fashioned leather suitcase in each hand, and walked on foot. They were swathed in a billowing dark cloak, and under it appeared to be wearing a crimson robe of some sort.
Shane sighed and turned to his second-in-command. "Looks a likely suspect this one, eh?"
His second nodded. "Why we got t' get the weird ones on our shift I don't know."
As the figure approached, Shane realized that it wasn't a robe, but a dress that the figure wore. It was an old dress, deep dark red velvet that rippled as the wearer walked. The black cloak covered most of her bodice, but what was visible indicated that it had some sort of Victorian corset- type fastening.
"Jesus! Looks like something off the set of a Shakespeare." His counterpart observed.
Shane nodded. She was now near enough that he didn't want to express agreement with his second, lest she hear him and take offense and become uncooperative.
He stepped away from the stone wall he'd been leaning on, and stood in the middle of the narrow road, his team moving to flank the figure as she reached them.
"Mornin', Ma'am. My name is Commander Shane Finnegan. No need to be alarmed - everyone passin' through here recieves the same treatment. Precautions, you see. We've had a few, ah, killin's recently, and we're on full alert. Usually a peaceful town this, but, well, ye can understand that we want t' keep it peacful."
A smooth voice suggesting a polite but cool smile said, "Of course I understand, Commander," from beneath the cowl of the cloak.
He nodded brusquely. "Right. Well, if ye'll permit my men t' perfrom a quick search of yer cases, and hand me yer papers and cloak so I can check them, ye'll be on yer way in no time."
She obligingly placed her suitcases on the ground, and rummaged for her papers. She drew them from an inside pocket of her cloak and handed them to him.
Whilst casually flicking through them, Shane attempted a cheerful conversation to go with the unusually cheery weather. "So, ye walk far then?"
"From the last village."
"Nice enough day fer it. Movin' here are ye?"
"I'll be stayin' fer a little while."
"Oh right. Hope ye enjoy yerself." He looked up with a smile, handing the papers back.
"I'm sure I will."
"Now ah, if ye don't mind, duty dictates I must search yer cloak too..." Shane found himself almost hoping she'd be awkward. He'd decided she had a very nice voice, and was intrigued.
Unfortunately for that part of him, she wasn't awkward, and slipped her hood back and cloak off without protest.
It was a moment before he could move his arm to take the proffered garment.
One of the folk-tales so popular around there was that of banshees - fearful wailing women who killed with their hideous shrieks and cries. A slight variation that Shane had heard often in the local pub, was that banshees were born the most beautiful creatures on earth, that only as lonliness kicked in did they become the terrifying images in Irish childrens' nightmares.
As he spent that moment staring at the revealed face, Shane decided that the folk-lore could be true. That he'd just found an - as yet - perfectly unlonely and happy banshee girl.
Amused blue-grey eyes regared him from beneath longish lashes and perfectly formed brows. Her lips were red without make-up, and very light freckles mottled her nose and cheeks. Her balanced features were framed by a smooth, thick mane of copper brown hair.
"Thank ye." Shane managed, in a hoarse whisper, as he finally took the cloak.
There wasn't much in the pockets - nothing at all to cause the Garda suspicion - and he handed the cloak back shortly. She took it then turned to watch the rest of the team repacking her belongings.
Shane fidgeted in the silence, and couldn't help but start talking again. "They won't be long, I assure ye, Ma'am."
She hadn't put her hood back up, and with a brief flicker of a smile said, "Please, there's no need fer the 'ma'am', ye've seen my papers, ye know my name."
"Ah - of course." Shane nodded, ashamed to feel a flush rising on his cheeks.
But to his surprise, it was her that spoke next. "Are ye on duty here all day?"
He let out a relieved laugh. "No, no. We're on shifts. I'll have tonight an' tomorrow off, then on tomorrow's night patrol, an' then Sunday and Sunday night off, then on duty Monday...an' so on, until we've secured the er, trouble."
"If it's not confidential, d'ye mind me askin' what's been happenin' around here?"
"Well, I can tell ye bits 'n' pieces, but it's not pleasent, I warn ye..." He trailed off, waiting for a response, but all she did was raise her eyebrows. "Well, we've had a few suspected murders recently. No apparent pattern to the killin's, other than all were out of their houses after dark, and all suffered pretty gruesome injuries. Slashes an' so forth. It's not nice. We've never had anythin' like this here before. But I do suggest ye stay indoors after dark as much as possible."
She nodded thoughtfully, but was denied the chance to express an opinion by the second in command announcing that her bags checked out.
Shane waved her off, and watched her continue that leisurely - but quite rapid - walk on towards the village.
"Well, turns out she's not that much of a suspect after all." He mused.
His second snorted. "Not in your eyes, certainly."
"What's that s'posed t'mean?"
"Nothin'...nothin'..."
* * *
Taking advantage of their forthcoming day off, Shane's team were enjoying themselves in the local. It was a Friday night, and the pub was packed. Most of them were drunk already, despite the summer sun only just reaching the horizon at eight o'clock.
"Pity the poor buggers out there t'night!" One man shouted, and many yelled their agreement whilst raising glasses and laughing at the other teams' misfortune.
Shane was one of the few sober men in the room. He had been nursing the same pint all night, and although he laughed with the others, his thoughts often wandered. He was once more going through the list of possible hotels, motels and travel inns that an outsider could stay for a little while in the tiny village, when his unasked question - where was she staying? - was answered. She came down the narrow set of steps behind the bar, and slipped through the crowds towards a table in the corner, catching the land-lady on the way and ordering something.
Shane found himelf standing without any knowledge as to how he got there. His half-full pint glass still in hand, he headed for her table, not really sure what he was going to say.
Once more, though, he didn't need to worry. Her face lit up in a grin when she saw him, and she pulled a chair out. "Hi. Enjoying yer time off?"
"Not as much as some of my men seem t' be," almost on cue, one Garda laughed so hard at some joke, that he toppled backwards off his stool, laughing even as he hit the carpet.
She laughed along with him and nodded thanks to the land-lady as her drink was placed on the table.
"Not much of a drinker?" she asked, gesturing towards the half- emptied pint glass between them.
"Actually I am usually. Usually the one to make the biggest fool of himself."
"Oh. I wish I hadn't interrupted ye. I'd have loved t' see that." She smiled coquettishly.
He grinned. "Actually, I'm having much more fun now. And this sort'a fun doesn't leave ye feelin' rotten in the mornin'."
She laughed again. "But 'temporary amnesia' is my best excuse from gettin' outta work!"
"What sorta job d'ye do?"
She leaned back in her chair and rested her head on the wall, regarding him with steady and thoughtful eyes. "Same kinda thing as you. Protectin' people, things, animals, laws. Only in more discreet ways."
Shane raised his eyebrows. "Secret service?" he asked with a lopsided grin.
"Now if I was I couldn't tell ye!" she laughed. "Don't go tryin' t' make me reveal my secrets t' ye like that!" She playfully batted the arm he'd laid across the table.
"Have ye' lived in this quiet little place all yer life, then?"
It was a blatent subject change, but Shane ignored it. "Nah. I'm a Dublin boy, me. How 'bout you?"
"Donegal."
"Nice," he said, and meant it. "Ye live in one of those big country houses?"
Her expression turned wistful. "Yeah. 'Twas in the woods, in the mountains. Had a little field for the ponies, and a little garden for the vegetables. Didn't go t' town much. Went t' bordin' school in Scotland. Came as a bit of a shock t' the system."
"I can imagine. It was like that for me, when I moved from Dublin t' here. I'd never seen so much green in my life."
The sun sank lower outside the pub, and the Gardas grew more bawdy inside the pub, but neither Shane Finnegan nor Ellen Donaghue noticed. They talked and laughed for hours - just friendly chat - and found that they had quite a bit in common. When the lady-lady finally announced closing time, the team of Garda stumbled out into the deepening twighlight. Shane hesitated, not wanting the delightful evening to be cut short.
Elly frowned, watching the last of the other customers filter out. "I though ye said it wasn't a good idea t' be out in the dark at the moment?"
"It's not." Shane stated, also watching the regulars leave.
"How far away d'ye live?" She asked.
The unexpected question brought his head round. "A few streets. Why?"
"Is that far?" Worry seemed to be creeping into her expression.
Shane hesitated, "Ah...it's a little way. Takes me about twenty minutes at night. Don't worry about me, though. Whatever it is that's killin' these people doesn't seem t' like alcohol-flavoured blood. It's not gone fer anyone outta the pub yet."
"You shouldn't have alcohol-flavoured blood after one pint." Elly protested. "Take a room here fer the night. Please. It'd put my mind at rest." She knew it was very forward to ask this of a man she'd only met that morning, but she had a bad feeling about whatever it was that was attacking the locals.
He spent a moment just studying her face, and judged that the concern there was genuine. "Okay, I'll see if she's a room t' spare. But if she's not I'm headin' home. No taxi, no nothin', okay?"
Elly clenched her jaw and nodded, biting back another plea. She liked the policeman, and didn't want to see anything happen to him.
He walked up to the bar, and before the land-lady could complain that he should be gone, asked quietly, "Have ye any rooms free tonight, Ma'am?"
She frowned and studied her records. "I'm sorry, young man, there's only one bed free in the place tonight, and that's in that young lady's room."
Shane froze. A tough desicion, but he decided quickly. He turned back to Elly. "No rooms, sorry. I'd best be goin' now."
She stood up and took hold of his arm. "No. I - I...don't."
His brow creased, and he turned back to her, gently sitting her down with a hand on her shoulder. "Elly, do ye know somethin'?"
She bit her lip and looked down. "Yes."
"Tell me. It's important. I can tell."
"Not here." She stood again, and led him up the stairs, past a disgusted look from the lady-lady. He followed her into her room, slightly on edge, and feeling very awkward.
"What is it, Ellen?"
She sat down on the edge of her bed and shook her head, as if controlling some internal conflict. "I told ye about my work."
"Vaguely."
"Well, I can't be much more than vague, okay? I'm sorry. The attacker is an animal, yes?"
"We think it could be." Shane nodded.
"Are there any reliable eyewitness descriptions?"
"Well, a few mentioned that it was very large. About two meters long, and one and a half high."
Her eyes widened at that. "Anything else?"
"Well most of the village hears it when it, ah, speaks. It sounds like a cross between a wolf and and a big cat of some sort."
At this Elly nodded. "I think it's some sort of modified panther or wild cat."
"Modified? How?"
She became very evasive at this. "Well, there are ways, surely? Maybe it's just a mutant."
"Hmm." Shane wasn't convinced, but he didn't press further.
The sound of singing outside drew Elly to the window. The Gardas were down there, singing, "She is handsome, she is pretty, she is the belle of Belfast City!"
Elly laughed, and opened the window to sing back at them (a lot better) "She is a-courting one-two three, pray would ye tell me who is she?" She closed the window and drew the curtains before they could start again, and turned with a smile back towards the room.
Shane grinned, deciding it would be okay to leave the case for now. "Now, I shall be leaving, Ma'am."
Elly pulled a face, but it was only an attempt to hide her smile, Shane could see. "But ye might get attacked by them drunks!"
"Well, Then ye can rescue me from them by distractin' them with yer lovely singin' from the window."
She laughed. "Get goin', ye flatterer!" and gently but firmly pushed him out of the door. He turned, grinning at this show of force, and to his great surprise, she planted a gentle kiss on his lips, before flushing a deep red and vanishing behind the door.
* * *
Elly sat down, sure her heart was going to escape her ribcage. A childish grin was on her face, but she repeated to herself in a high- pitched whisper, "I shouldn't have done that! Oh, God, why did I do that?"
Finally she composed herself enough to reach into the bottom of her suitcase, and into the inside pocket of the skirt on her dress. She pulled a thirteen inch piece of wood from the pocket. The wood was smooth and polished, but looked well worn. She pointed it at the bottom of the suitcase and whispered something.
The bottom of the suitcase slid back, revealing a store of parchment and quills and ink pots. She took a piece of parchment, a quill, and a pot and went to the desk. She wrote Have arrived. Gained a little information. Possible hexed beast, most likely to be a lynx.
She folded the parchment into a paper aeroplane, and waved the wooden stick at it again, whispering something different this time. The plane took off from her hand, and she rushed to open the window as it hurtled towards it. The plane shot across the Irish sea in the cover of darkness, heading straight for the Ministry of Magic headquarters in London.
* * *
There was a knock on Ellen's door the next morning, and at first she wondered who had the right to wake her up so early, but then she saw that it wasn't that early. "Ten?!" She cursed, leaping from the bed and racing to the door. She opened it a fraction, and peeked out, concious that her nightdress wasn't particularly decent.
When she saw who it was, she felt a desire to close the door and run back to bed in embarassement. "Uh...hi, Shane."
He smiled, and cocked his head to one side, as if peeking in round the door. "Hi there. Ye left somethin' last night ye know?"
"Oh...?" She opened the door a bit wider, still keeping mostly behind it.
He leaned forwards, rummaging in his pockets. "Ah...here it is!" His mouth spread into a dazzling grin and he held out his hand, clenched in a loose fist.
Ellen, intrugued, also leaned forwards. "What is it?"
Then he opened his hand, and slid it along her cheek to the back of her neck. He brought his face to hers, "This." And he kissed her. Not a shy, embaressed kiss like the one she'd given him last night, but this one a proper, passionate kiss.
When she opened her eyes, Ellen found herself with her arms wrapped around Shane's neck, and also discovered to her surprise, that they were now standing in the middle of her room. She giggled. "How on earth could I leave somethin' like that behind? Ye'll have t' help me look after it, as I'm obviously not responsible enough..."she kissed him back.
* * *
By midday, Shane and Elly were sitting outside the pub in the sun, and discussing anything and everything once more. They were laughing about something - or nothing - when a dismayed shout alerted everyone in the street.
Shane, Garda instincts kicking in, was up and racing down the road in an instant. He was surprised to find Elly hot on his heels. They rounded the corner at the end of the street where the cry had come from, and saw an old couple who had obviously been walking their dog, staring into the hedge of someone's garden. The dog was sniffing with interest at something in the hedge, and as they neared, Shane could see the darkening of the leaves around that area.
He put a hand out to stop Elly. "Don't. Believe me, it's not somethin' ye need t' see."
She opened her mouth to protest, as was her nature, but something in his dark eyes warned her that he was serious about this.
Shane continued at a walk, and came between the couple and the hedge, arms spread as if to block their entire view of what he knew to be resting in the dirt behind him. "Okay. It's alright. There's no need fer ye t' look anymore. C'mon," he put a hand on each bony shoulder and steered them slightly further down the road. "Ye alright, bother of ye?"
They nodded, obviously in shock.
"Okay, I'm gonna need t' get ye t' the station, they'll ask ye a few questions, but then ye'll be free t' go. Ye need anythin' from 'em, though just ask, yeah?"
They nodded again.
Shane pulled his mobile from a pocket and dialed the police station's local number. "Hello? Chief? Yep, it's me. We got another. Looks like we'll need a transport for the couple o' witnesses too..."
* * *
Elly had to admit that she was impressed by the efficiency of the Muggle police force, and in a way was disappointed that Shane wasn't just a one-off when it came to sharpness and discipline. She wacthed from a distance as the homicide squad bagged the corpse and loaded it into their van. Only then did she approach the Chief.
He was convinced easily by her fake ID that told him she was with a secret Irish police force - partially because of the spells cast on it - and she found herself assigned to Shane's squad for that night's duty.
* * *
Shane looked incredulous. "You're with some secret police thing? What, a government conspiracy?"
"No, no..." Elly toyed with the idea of telling him, knowing it was foolish. He'd never believe.
"C'mon, ye can tell me..." he grinned - that grin, that always got her - and pulled her gently nearer to him on the couch they shared in the pub's lounge.
That grin always got her. But not this time. Elly sighed in what she hoped was a resigned way. "Okay, yes, yer right. It's sorta like a government conspiracy, only - but don't tell yer chief! - it's not really, ah, authorised by the governemt..."
His eyebrows shot up. "Ooh...wow. Okay." but he didn't seem too concerned, as he wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her near again.
"You been on a night shift, yet?" Elly asked, cuddling into his shoulder.
"Nah. This'll be my first one. But you'll be there if I get afraid o' the dark." there was that grin again.
"How long have we got?"
Her eyes were closed, but she felt his hold change as he glanced at his watch. "About three hours."
Elly nodded, wishing that she could stay hidden in Shane's arms all night, and not have to go out and do her job.
* * *
After putting together her small night pack, Elly moved to the window, noticing movement. A tiny paper dart flew through the yellowing sky towards her. She caught it deftly between her forefinger and thumb as it shot through the open window. She unfolded it and read; Secure beast at all costs. Muggles are NOT to be permitted a live capture. Don't forget to perform necessary memory wipes.
Elly froze. She hadn't thought that far. She knew that she could easily carry out the proper spells to wipe the Gardas' memories, but she thought about having to do it to Shane. She could see his brown eyes, so dark they were nearly black, and they stared at her, hurt, confused, scared. Elly shuddered. She couldn't. She sighed, knowing she should never have gotten involved. She'd have to leave, anyway. How would he react to that?
Before she could contemplate further horrors, there was a knock at the door. "Elly? Are ye ready?"
She shook herself out of the daze and threw the parchment on the fire. "Sure, I'm coming!" She'd just have to do it. But she couldn't. But she had to.
* * *
Shane was unaware of it, but when they reached the start point for the patrol, Elly was still struggling with her duty and her emotions.
He was all business however, and soon had an orderly group of Garda marching through the surrounding area of the town. Elly walked beside him, the dart gun in her hands looking out of proportion there, and after a few minutes whispered, "Have any of the patrols ever been attacked?"
Shane eyed her from beneath a raised eyebrow. "I was wonderin' when yed ask that. Yes. Almost every one has been, but the beast's never been hit. It's odd, seein' as the thing's allegedly such a big target." He didn't add, The last patrol was the only one not attacked. He didn't know what that meant, and he didn't want to trouble Elly with that information.
The night seemed to be going quietly (and slowly) enough, until around midnight, when the beast's cry pierced the still and muggy night air. The patrol stopped dead. Shane wished more then ever that the description he had given Elly of it was not true. But it was, and the wolf/panther sounded very near. Not wanting to appear as scared as he was, Shane whispered to his men, "Okay, remain calm. Ye know yer trainin'. Fan out, keep yer eyes peeled, and fer Christ's sake don't make any large noises or movements. We gotta take this thing down, but not permanently."
They were in an open field dotted with old cow pats and groups of nettles. It was surrounded by a tall but scawny hedge of deciduos trees on three sides and a stone wall accompanying the road on the other. There was no cover away from the hedges, and the gibbous moon bathed the area in silvery light. Consequently, the beast should have been spotted long before it reached them, but the first sign they had of it reaching the party was a shriek from the farthest back member of the patrol.
Eleven dart guns swung towards the sound. The twefth gun had already been crushed by the beast's mighty jaws, along with the owner of the gun. Elly reached for her waistband, her hand searching frantically for her wand even as she moved forwards with the rest of the team. As the first wave of men reached it, the creature batted away each gun before going for the holder, yowling again and again.
A casually discarded dart gun jarred Elly's elbow as she fumbled her wand out, and she felt her fingers numb momentarily and drop the all important magic stick. She feel to her knees, groping in the commotion for it. She heard Shane's cry of alarm. "Elly! Are you okay?"
Hurriedly, she replied, "I'm fine! Just tripped! Be with you in a second, just getting my breath." As she talked, though, she continued her search, finally, coming to sense when her search took her roaming fingers through a nettle clump. "Accio wand!" The wand shot to her hand, and she leapt to her feet, seeing the remaining five Gardas - Shane included, thankfully - attempt to encircle the beast.
She raced forwards, wand and arm extended towards the area of her target that she could see in a gap between two Garda. When she was about ten meters away, she let out a shout of "Avada kedavra!" and watched as if from a distance as deadly green light left her wand tip and bowled into the cursed beast. The creature fell with a final howl, and only a thin trail of smoke rose from its fur to indicate where the curse had hit it.
By the time the Gardas had turned to face her, Elly had decided what to do. She gestured at four of the shocked men, and in one motion - "Obliviate!" - erased their memories of how the creature had died. They slid to the ground in a peaceful sleep.
Now she turned to Shane, expecting the hurt, confused, scared expression she had imagined. Instead, there was only a strange sort of nervous grin mixed with respect. "Whoa, whoa! Okay, be calm, Elly! I - I don't know what ye did t' them, or t'...it...but I, whatever sorta secret weapon that is, I swear I'll never reveal yer secret!"
Elly almost laughed. Then she decided somthing else. "Shane. This may seem like a very odd question, but I have t' know so I can plan what t' do next. Durin' our night and day together, did ye ever wonder about spendin' life with me?"
He looked thunderstruck. "Uh...I guess. Yeah, I did. But - hey! - let's not rush things, eh?"
Elly smiled. "No, ye misunderstand me. I need t' know, so that I can judge whether or not you need this - " she gestured to the sleeping Gardas, " - doing t' ye."
Shane dropped his dart gun and held up his hands, palms facing her, "Whoa! Whoa! No! I'm fine, I don't need that doin' t' me, I swear! I - "
"Shane, do ye believe in magic?" Elly interrupted.
"I...Wha'? Er...dunno." He looked even more lost. "Er...I guess I would, given some proof."
She nodded, and said, "Lumos!" Her wand's tip lit up.
He forgot his position of surrender imeediately, and shook his head, blinking. "Wha'...?"
"Nox!" The wand went dark again. Then she pointed at a crumpled dart gun by Shane's feet. "Pick it up. It's broken, see?"
"Just a bit!" he said with a worried laugh.
"Hold it still."
"What?!"
"Just do it, Shane, I promise the spell won't touch ye." She aimed with her wand, and..."Noxious flamaris reparo!"
The crumpled metal twisted to it's original shape, and wires and circuits righted themselves.
Shane promptly dropped it. "Holy sh - "
"Do ye believe in magic, Shane?"
"I do!" he practically shouted.
Desperately relieved, Elly tucked her wand away again, and raced the few steps towards him. "I'm sorry, Shane, but I had t' know that yed believe me."
He looked shaken, but still managed that grin. "Hey, 'course I believe ye...scary stick or no scary stick."
Elly grinned, and bit back the response that came to mind first. "So ye don't mind that I'm a witch? I work fer the Ministry of Magic, ye know?"
Shane closed his eyes, and gestured for her to slow down. "I think...yer goin' t' need t' explain a lot t' me."
"We've got time." She replied.