Chapter 2.
The Auror.
He stopped and stared at himself in a shop window, sweeping long blond hair from his deep brown eyes, a grin almost permanently fixed on his face. It had been two days since he received the order to report for his first solo job, and he was an hour early. There were few people around to get in his way this early in the morning. A pair of dog walkers, a lone woman pushing an elaborate pushchair that seemed to push itself.
He checked his reflection out again, in the last shop window before the entrance to the park. He straightened his black tie, tucked his black shirt into his black trousers, and fastened the single button on his black jacket. The standard uniform for his line of work, old-fashioned compared to what he usually wore, but he felt pride after all these years of training. His black suit was unsuitable for the heat of the day, which again was climbing into the eighties, but he had made sure the heat would not bother him today.
Stopping outside the entrance to the cemetery, he took the small piece of yellowing paper from his pocket, reading the instructions yet again, still unsure he was reading it correctly. It told him to enter the cemetery and walk down the path, head to the left and stop at the large grey and white monument. He walked along the path passing a multitude of tombstones, some lying on their sides, others weather-worn and smooth. Between these monuments were small trees, reclaiming the land. He stopped and closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the drone of the bees flying around a large rambling honeysuckle, the scent filling his nose.
He was about to walk forward, when a strange looking man walked up to him, nodded amiably, turned to the statue, walked towards it and disappeared, the air around him shimmered for a moment. He grinned following the man, realising he was going the right way. As he walked forward, he felt a tingling sensation as he passed through the shimmering barrier. The man in front looked back, looking worried, as he descended a dark stone staircase. He continued walking down the stairs, turning several times at landings, the man in front looking back every time they turned, speeding up the further they descended. Some seven floors down, he came to a short tunnel, the strange man had moved fast enough to be out of sight. He continued walking out onto a wide paved area, which ended with a drop a few yards away. Looking along the tunnel he saw the little man standing with a small group of people, who were staring at him, with some hostility. He walked to the edge of the platform and looked down at the bright shiny metal rails, stretching off into the darkness of the tunnel. He looked the other way and saw a blank brick wall; the tracks coming to a halt a few feet from it.
He pulled another piece of paper from his pocket, seemingly made of a soft gold coloured metal. The little ticket advised him he could access all stations to Bishops Bridge, which told him nothing. He had studied the tube map, and he never found Bishops Bridge.
A deep rumble felt rather than heard heralded the arrival of an old-fashioned dark green tube train, which seemed to throw itself into the station, coming to a halt before it hit the far wall, the wheels stopping inches from the end of the rails. It was only a single carriage with a door at either end, both of which opened. He stepped aboard, noticing that the other passengers entered the other door and stayed at the other end of the carriage. The doors slammed closed, and the train lurched back the way it arrived, forcing him to grab wildly for one of the hanging straps.
He barely had the chance to sit on the red plush seat and take in the polished woods surroundings before the train pulled into the next station. Along the wall was a sign stating Bishops Bridge Station. A female voice boomed from all around him. "Bishops Bridge, all change." The doors opened themselves; the other passengers stopped off, still giving him strange unfriendly looks. He followed them off the train and along the single platform, down a small side tunnel, following the others and their looks. At the other end of the tunnel, he walked straight into a queue of people, held up by a long row of small wooden desks. Beside each desk was a small upright chair with a person seated on them. The atrium looked like the entrance to a tube station rather than one of the most illustrious institutions in the world, admittedly, unknown to most. This was his first visit to the Ministry, and he spent his time staring at the ornate tiling on the walls, which made the place look like a well lit Victorian Street, stretching off into the distance. While he waited in the queue, watching person after person entering through dozens of ornate fireplaces amid bursts of green fire, more people were entering from a tunnel at the far end.
"Have your details and wands ready for inspection." A booming, female voice came from all directions at once, overbearing the steady loud murmur of people talking, moving, and walking all around him. The queue shuffled forward until he reached one of the small wooden desks. In the wooden chair sat a young woman, in a bright green shawl over an orange jumper, looking up at him, palm upwards in front of her. He placed his wand in her palm, and the roll of parchment on the desk in front of her.
She closed her hand on the wand and looked at him with impossibly large amber eyes. "Spruce, Inflexible, troll whisker, six inches. You have rather a small wand Auror Garrett." She dropped his wand into a box on the desk that already contained over thirty wands. The piece of parchment he had placed on the table had folded itself into a flying plane and now floated in front of him. "Follow the memo to the Minister's office, good day."
"Thank you and my wand works perfectly." He said with a deep voice. The woman looked into his eyes again.
"I'm sure it does Tony." She replied. "Follow the memo."
Dismissed, he walked across the huge open area, so big and high, that he could see birds or something flying around way above him. For most of the walk, he dodged an assortment of differently dressed people, all heading in different directions, oblivious to each other. He felt panic rise as he realised that he had lost his memo. Above him, hundreds of folded parchments flitted around in all directions, somehow missing each other in an amazing aerial ballet. His parchment dropped and buzzed around his head before continuing off along a dark corridor. He caught up with his parchment again, floating in front of one of the cage doors. He stopped and watched the lift arrive at speed, making him step back as it stopped. The gate opened with a crash allowing the parchment to enter, he followed, grabbing one a handle that hung from the ceiling, knowing what was about to happen.
Luckily, the trip only lasted a moment, travelling up two floors, then sideways for a moment, depositing him at another long corridor. He exited the lift as two small men, carrying large cauldrons and a strange assortment of plants, passed him into the lift. The man holding the plants was avoiding large purple leaves that were trying to spear him in the face every couple of seconds. He watched the cage door slam closed, and the lift sped off, taking the men and plants with it.
Looking at the corridor, he realised this one was less used, the carpet clean, with no visible threadbare sections. At the end of a corridor, were three green painted doors, with polished brass letter box's. The central door had the number 42, also in brass at the top. The parchment dropped down through the letter box and out of sight. He was about to reach for a handle, realising there wasn't one.
Tony took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock as the door opened. A tall, although shorter than Tony, balding, dark grey-suited man stood before him, what was left of his hair was bright ginger peppered with grey.
"Anthony Garrett, Percy Weasley". His hand shot out, which Tony took. "Nice to meet you, do come in." Tony was more than surprised as he realised that this meeting was to be with the Minister for Magic himself, and not some flunky.
As Percy stood to one side, allowing Tony to enter a small room, with a small vacant desk along one side. Another door, further on, opened itself.
"Carry on through and take a seat."
He entered an old Victorian drawing room, with furniture to match, the pictures on the wall full of old people. Tony settled himself down in the armchair opposite the Minister for Magic, feeling unnerved by the people in the pictures staring down at him, and that the boss himself was sitting in front of him. He was older than Tony expected, the photos of him in the Daily Prophet were old.
"Down to business, as they say." He said as he sat down opposite, elbows on the desk. Tony nodded and smiled. "Your parents are non-magical, I am informed." Tony's heart sank, he'd been told many times during his school and training years, that Muggle parents were a setback to anyone's career.
"Yes Minister, they are." He said with resignation.
"Good, good, good,". Percy said, smiling. "I assume that you have spent your holidays in the Muggle world?"
"Yes, Minister." A note of confusion entered his voice. "Although I now have temporary quarters in the Leaky Cauldron, and I haven't been home for eight months."
"Good, good, good."
"Minister, forgive my interruption, but what has my Muggle background have to do with my job as an Auror?"
"Good question, in fact, an excellent question." Percy's head leant forward looking Tony straight in the eyes. "Few Auror's come from non-magical families, so although they are superb at their jobs, they are hopeless at fitting into the Muggle world." He paused for a moment, still smiling. "You should be able to fit in easily, and you have," he paused for a moment, "history."
"History?" He exclaimed. "I don't understand?"
"You have certain items that Muggles have, National insurance number, medical history and you know how to use all the Muggle technology."
"I suppose so." Said Tony even more confused than before, knowing his history with Muggle technology was disastrous at best.
"Good. You see," Percy sat back in the armchair, "we've had a little problem dropped on us. The Muggle Prime Minister has asked for help in solving some murders."
"What's so special about them that they need us?" He asked, wondering where this was going.
"The problem is that we had some murders as well, in fact, one of the murdered people the muggles want us to investigate, is a witch." Tony said nothing, waiting for the minister to continue. "So, your job is to meet with a DCI Adam Croft and aid him, while exploring our own problems. To make things more difficult, you will keep your abilities secret from him, and anyone working for, or with him."
"That's why I have to pass as a Muggle?"
"Yes. I would guess that the first thing he does, would be to investigate your past history, that's if someone in their organisation has not already done so." He smiled conspiratorially at Tony. "We have made up some history for you, all of which is out of the country, so their ability to verify any of it, will be difficult, if not impossible." The smile changed to a smugness that Tony found he did not like.
"Do you have the information on my history, as I'll need to know it?"
"I have it here." A small roll of parchment tied with a thin piece of red ribbon, appeared in his hand. "Now, for the most part, you will be in the Muggle world, without any backup from the Ministry, you will have to work closely with this DCI." Percy sat back in his chair again. "I suspect the knowledge you gain about investigating, will be very useful in the future. But, nobody outside of this room will know what you're doing."
"So everyone already knows about it then?" Tony said wryly.
Percy leant forwards again as the grin re-appeared. "Of course everyone knows, which is going to make your job a lot harder." Another parchment roll appeared in his hand. "Now this is the information you will need about our murders." Percy handed him the second roll.
"What happens if I get into trouble and need help?"
"You'll have your partner, the DCI and you have your magic, which puts you at a great advantage over the Muggles."
"But we've had murders within our world, surely the people who have committed them will have the same advantage as me, more so if they have experience." Worry wormed its way into Tony's mind.
"Yes, probably." Percy nodded as he stood up. "I'm told you're very skilled with a wand, thanks to your training in Durmstrang, so that shouldn't be a problem." Tony stood up. "Now, important things for you to remember." Percy continued, his manner now brisk, not giving Tony the chance to ask any more questions. "Your luggage has been removed from the Leaky Cauldron and is now at 12 Grimmauld Place. It's a ministry house, which will be your home for the duration of the case and until you find something more permanent. You can use the Floo network to access it."
He was bustled out of the room, through the smaller office and into the corridor, more than a little confused and angry.
"Make use of the Auror office in Knocturn Alley when and if you need it. You can leave messages there for the Ministry if you think it's important enough. Please be careful. Goodbye Mr Garrett." The Minister closed the door which reopened almost and the Minister's head re-appeared. "You'll meet this DCI at this address around three o'clock this afternoon." He held out a small piece of parchment with some writing and a picture on it. As soon as he took it, the door closed again.
He retraced his earlier steps back to the lifts as he read the two pieces of parchment and the note in utter disbelief. Both contained a couple of lines of handwritten text, the first had the names of the murdered people, the other had all the things the Minister had already told him. He turned back, planning to demand more information. His mouth hung open in shock, as the former door with 42 written on it, was no longer there.
Tony left the Ministry after picking up his wand at the desk where he came in. The large-eyed girl smiled at him, but he was far too preoccupied to notice her.
He wandered along the corridor, back to the tube station, before he realised what he was doing. He stepped onto the train, that pulled out the moment he sat, and before he knew it, he was back at the cemetery, wondering what he was going to do next. He checked the time, then looked at the piece of parchment the Minister had given him, realising the Cauldron and a drink could wait, he had another appointment, one he would dare not miss.
