Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: I really wish I could've wrapped this up earlier but nonetheless I like how it turned out. Hope you all enjoy, and I'm welcome to any feedback. Written for:
LLFC rnd 3: ravenclaw captain: genre - crime; ultimate battle comp: armor building: silver armor - 1000 words of riddle era; open cat 3: riddle era;
Big Day
Alastor Moody stepped out of the fireplace in the Ministry, an excited skip to his step but a certain lack of air in his lungs. He tried to convince himself that this week would be just like his previous years of training: exciting, challenging, and rarely failing.
But he was a fully-fledged Auror now, and had to manage being part of his team and making himself stand out, and the difference between his intuition and his orders. Alastor had looked forward to nothing but this day for years longer than he could remember, but he had never expected it would be so similar to everyday he went in to train and every chance to get in the field.
Because chances were just that – not every mission required total man force, and trainees were brought in for specific, weak missions, or ones where full body count was required. That would not change. There were many talented people in the Auror Office and not every mission was for everyone else.
Every part of Alastor wanted this day to be his first big chance to prove himself, but a very small part was telling him that he really just wanted today to go off without incident. In retrospect, both were rather true.
He made his way through the crowd of employees to the lift, taking it up to the second floor and walking until he reached the Auror Office. There was also something very appealing about the brand new cubicle waiting for him inside.
The first person he saw when he opened the door was his mentor, Davies. He shot Alastor a grin. "Big day, huh?"
Alastor couldn't keep himself from splitting into a wide smile. "I've been waiting for this since I was nine."
Davies came up and put his hand on Alastor's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Moody. You deserve this."
"Thanks, Davies." Alastor hadn't thought he could have gotten this lucky in terms of a mentor; the comment meant a lot.
"Alright," said Davies, spinning on the heel of his foot. "This is your new desk," he said, pointing at an empty cubicle. "Sit, wait for an assignment, and get cracking."
Alastor had sat idly for five minutes before the witch he had grown to recognize as the secretary for his department dropped a stack of files on his desk and ordered him to get to an investigation: there was an underground gambling circle emerging an Ireland, one that dealt with those not loyal darkly. He worked into the afternoon, talking with Dawlish, another who had been initiated with him.
It wasn't until after lunch when something came up. Selena Vance, one of the only women, and one of the best, in the department, came rushing in just as an alarm sounded throughout the Ministry.
"We've got a breach in security. The Department of Mysteries has been infiltrated and something has been stolen. They got in, they got out, and we were only alerted moments ago when an Unspeakable found the item missing."
Littleton sat up, a determined look in his eye. "What have we got?" The other Aurors came to attention, too.
Vance looked hopeless. "Hardly anything. I've got no idea why the bloody alarm is still going, too, because it's obvious they're long gone by now. We've got to start reviewing wand check-ins, looking for anyone who could possibly be here with ulterior motives. Olivia will be here momentarily with a record of everyone who's been here today; I want everyone double and triple checking our records with the people who've checked in today. It's not much, but it's all we've got."
"Well what was stolen?" Alastor asked.
Vance turned to face him. "I was just getting to that, thank you. It was one of our time turners, and as such this could have monstrous consequences, so we've got to get some sort of a lead."
Dawlish spoke up. "When's the last time we know the time turner was there? It couldn't have been days, that's something almost everyone in the Ministry knows is in there and one of the most heavily guarded objects."
Vance shook her head. "We know it was here yesterday, but that's it."
Alastor looked to his right; Dawlish had the list on his desk and gave half to him. "Let's get started." Pushing aside the information on the gamblers, Alastor scanned the list quickly to see if any names caught his eye. None stuck out, so he tried to come up with a file of Wanted that might match someone who would need a time turner. He thought back to his training and remembered the drawers upon drawers of folders, categories that he had to familiarize himself with. His first instinct was to go for recognized dark wizards, but he couldn't think of a motive they would have to perform such a discreet operation. Nearly all of them were notable for direct attacks, or growing, small attacks that lead to a following and a reputation. This wasn't that. This was covert, planned, and calculated, and done by someone who had practically no reputation.
Then there was the fact that they had to know their way around. Something like this needed a direct source – they had to either have a spy, or be the spy, and that meant they were a Ministry employee, and more than likely an Unspeakable.
Realizing some of this train of thought was being vocalized, Alastor turned to Littleton. "We've got to match that list up with Unspeakables. Current, past, any of them. How else could they possibly infiltrate? Maybe they've got a friend in that department, which would be even more of a lead."
Littleton began rapidly snapping his fingers, pointing towards a stack of files as he did so. "That's a great idea, Moody. Well done." Pulling out the files, he divided them up amongst the other Aurors. Alastor scanned his list patiently, waiting for something to show up.
It was five minutes later when Davies broke the silence. "I think I've got something!" Before Alastor knew it, Davies was in front of his desk. "The papers I gave you today, the gamblers — let me see them." Alastor handed them over, and something lit up in Davies eyes as he scanned them. "Vance! I've got it."
Vance hurried over quickly, and Davies rapidly fumbled with his papers in a habit Alastor recognized as gathering his thoughts. "Look at this." Davies planted his finger on the paper before him. "Evergraves — he worked here practically decades ago now — but he was one of our top Unspeakables, remember? Do you know who he married?"
"Some woman, Muggleborn, barely worked a day in her life. Why does it matter?"
Davies shook his head with a grin. "Not just any woman. Armenia Aimes. She barely visited her husband's place of work, but when she did she used to be very fascinated with everything about it. I've no idea why she would want to turn back time, but I know she'd be interested in making money. Would you look at this? One of the known culprits in this gambling ring is Bridget Aimes, and at first I thought it was just a common last name, but this cannot be a coincidence."
Vance looked around the room, a grin on her face. "I think we've got it. Moody, where's that lead?"
Alastor sat to attention. "Dublin."
"Perfect. You and Dawlish and Davies and I, and two hit wizards — Olivia, get those for me — we're heading there now. Strategy meeting now, and we're flooing out of here as fast as possible."
Vance looked back at him with a wicked smirk before she disappeared into her office. "Welcome to the Aurors, mate."
Alastor couldn't help himself from beaming as he followed after her.