Chronicles of Darkness: Dark Measures

Chapter 1: Messages

Author: Lauren Snape

Author E-mail: thetigressfatale@yahoo.com

Category: Action/Adventure, Romance, Mystery, yada yada yada

Spoilers: Probably all four books at some point or another.

Rating: PG-13 (for some cursing, violence, dark imagery, and eventually maybe even some implied sex)

Summary: Dark times call for dark measures. Sirius is in training to become and Auror, and is in turn training his boss, Zenobia, how to be human. Remus struggles against the curse that binds him. Can he ever have a real life, or, for that matter, a real relationship? A MWPP fic that will chronicle the first war against Voldemort.

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Remus could see the green Dark Mark reflected twice in Zenobia Mills eyes. There was no fear there, just sheer determination.

"Zen…" Sirius had pushed his way over from where he had been dancing.

She took her eyes away from the window where the Mark was shining clearly through. Remus was mildly aware that her hand was resting gently on his forearm.

"Stay here," she said, there was a tone of command in her voice that Remus didn't dare challenge. "Whatever happens: don't leave this building. They can't get in here. Sirius, let go."

Before Remus could say another word they had left swiftly out the door. The other Aurors were leaving as well.

James and Lily were beside him in a flash.

"Maybe we should leave," Lily said, she was looking nervous. She clinged helplessly to James' arm.

"Zenobia said not to leave," Remus answered.

"They've got all sorts of wards up all over the building, Lil," James added. "We're much safer here than anywhere else."

~ * * * ~

The darkness on the streets of Diagon Alley was almost inpenetrable. Alastor Moody led the party of Aurors through it unflinchingly.

Sirius walked close to Zenobia, his mentor and the only one there who truly believed in him. He often acted as if he didn't know what they thought. He'd pretend not to realize that everyone from the Minister of Magic down didn't see him fit to be an Auror, but it was always there, in the back of his mind, taunting him. It kept him in line.

They rounded a corner to see a smoldering building. Flames were licking up the sides out of the front display window. There were a couple groups of bystanders, all whimpering and watching helplessly.

It was Flourish and Blotts.

Sirius made a startled gasp and took a step forward.

Zenobia caught him by the arm. "No one is in there."

"How do you know?" He looked exasperated.

"What did I tell you about observation?" she whispered. "No on lives in or above Flourish and Blotts. And the only ones who could have possibly been in there at this time of night are the owners." She pointed to ont of the groups of wizards and witches. Standing among them was a short chubby man with curly blond hair. "Mr. Flourish." She shifted, pointing to another man, this one tall, and lanky. He clutched a night robe around him, looking stern. "Monsier Blotts."

"She's right kid," Frank Longbottom said, turning to them. "If you ran in there now, all you would get is burned."

"This was just to scare us," Zenobia said.

"Well if they just wanted to scare us they did a damn good job," Sirius growled.

"I don't suppose you ever learned anything about the Muggles' World Wars did you?" Zenobia asked. Sirius shook his head no. "In World War II, Hitler and his Nazi millitary would have book burnings. It served more of a blow than to just kill some Jewish people. Because burning their books did what taking lifes couldn't, it destroyed their heritage. He was sending us a message. 'Get out of the way, or get burned.'"

"Comparing Death Eaters to Nazis now, Zenobia?" Frank asked, looking amused. Behind him a team of Junior Aurors had extinguished the fire.

"It's a valid comparison," she answered. "With two minor exceptions: its Muggles and Muggle-borns instead of the Jews. And Voldemort isn't a vegetarian painter."

"Hitler was a vegetarian painter?" Sirius asked.

"And a mass-murdering fuckhead, as many important historians have said."

"Is that the professional term?"

"Can you think of a better way of stating it?" she asked. "Find anything Alastor?"

Moody was storming out of the wreckage, looked annoyed.

"Nothing of any use to us," he growled. He tossed a battered, singed gas can on the ground before them. "Looks like they started this one the good old fashioned Muggle way. How ironic."

"So we can't trace it," Frank said. "Damn smart of them."

"We could bring in Muggle arson specialists," a junior Auror who's name Zenobia didn't know offered.

"Too messy," Moody answere, shaking his grizzly hair. "Looks like another one for the unsolved files."

"A list that is growing unsettlingly long these days," Zenobia said. She patted Sirius on the shoulder. "Nothing more to be done here Slick. Lets head back, your friends are probably waiting for you."

"Zen, I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever see a Death Eater on this job," Sirius said, as they meandered back through the Diagon Alley streets.

"Oh you will," Zenobia said, sounding a bit grim. "But you won't be too happy when you do. They aren't like us Sirius. They don't listen to reason, they just live to serve him. The lives of others mean nothing to them."

Sirius shivered slightly, partly because he was out in the middle of winter with no cloak, and partly because of the darkness he heard in Zenobia's voice. He heard it there whenever she talked about the Death Eaters' penchant for murder.

Sirius struggled to find a thread to restart the conversation, but decided it was pointless so they ventured back to the Office of Magical Law Enforcement.

~ * * * ~

Zenobia hated talking to the press. She never knew what was safe to reveal and what was better to keep quiet. Reporters had a way of twisting things out of context, no matter how careful you were.

"I assure you that no one was hurt," she said calmly. "The building in question was empty at the time of the fire."

"Was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers involved?"

"We are currently investigating who is responsible, as of yet it has not been determined."

One of the reporters rolled their eyes. "That sounds familiar."

Zenobia flashed her winning smile. "I don't write this stuff, I just relay it."

"Come on Agent Mills, did you nab any Death Eaters tonight?"

"I'm truly not at liberty to say."

Zenobia gave a short nod to Remus, Sirius, James and Lily as they passed by the crowd of reporters.

"She looks tired," commented Lily.

"Stressed," Sirius replied. "She needs more sleep and rest in my opinion, but its all work with her."

"Doesn't she have any family?" Remus asked. "Or friends?" Or a boyfriend?

Sirius shook his head. "Not that I know of. She's not really forthcoming about her family." He shoved his hands in his pockets to sheild them from the bitter January cold. "I intend to get her to lighten up."

"I hope not," James said, smiling. "Some one needs to keep your feet on the ground."

~ * * * ~

"That's all you have to say about it? You 'Had a nice conversation?'?" The girl on the other side of the counter was glaring at him incredulously.

Magical Memories was a chintzy souvenir shop down one of the side streets in Diagon Alley. They sold just about everything imaginable with the words "Diagon Alley, London" written on them.

"Yes, it was a wonderful conversation," he repeated, picking up a box of magical key rings that would display the name of whoever was carrying them.

"Oh come on, you can't just tell me that with out giving me details, did you kiss her at midnight?"

"Myra, I told you," Remus said. "There wasn't time to do anything at midnight."

"But you were going to," she pushed.

"The thought had crossed my mind, yes."

"I knew it!" Myra squealed. "Remus are you finally going to get a social life?"

Remus merely glared at her as he started hanging the self-monograming key chains on a rack. They each flashed "REMUS" as he picked them up but reverted simply to "NAME" once placed on the rack.

"So…" she began, "when are you going to owl her and ask her out for coffee or something?"

Remus stopped stocking the rack and looked up at his co-worker and only friend outside of the Marauders.

"I'm not." He was trying with all his might to make his face unreadable and hoped to God he was succeeding.

Myra looked startled. "Why the Hell not?"

Remus laughed. "Come on. She's a famous Ministry Auror, she lives a life of danger and excitement. And I'm… a souvenir store clerk." He smirked. "Not exactly a match made in Heaven."

"Why do you work here Remus?" she asked. "I mean, me, well, I can't do any better. But you graduated from Hogwarts with honors not too long ago."

"You see, when I was a wee lad the career advisor at my primary school come to me and said 'I advise you to get a career.'" Remus began dramatically. "then he asked me what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, and do you know what I said?"

Myra shook her head.

"I said: 'I want to work in a souvenir shop, and discover souvenirs that have never been discovered before… in the back of the shop, on the left.'"

"Ha. Ha." She threw a snow globe at him that missed, the mermaid in it shouted indignantly as it rolled away under one of the rickety shelves.

In truth the souvenir shop was merely he day job, as more often than not he also had some sort of task to do for Albus Dumbledore. But that was not widely known.

Myra slapped a piece of parchment and a quill onto the counter.

"Remus, owl the woman or you'll be sorry."

~ * * * ~

"I'm busy," Zenobia snapped to whoever had knocked on her door.

"Sorry Miss Mills," it was the mail clerk. "You've gotten an owl."

He held forth and envelope for her. She took it. "Thank you Weatherby," she said. "I heard you may be getting a promotion soon."

The young man seemed startled that she knew his name. "Y-yes m'am," he answered. "Mr. Crouch may be making me his assistant."

"Good luck with that then."

"Thank you Miss," he bowed slightly before exiting.

Zenobia frowned at the now closed door. Bartemius Crouch had become the active Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that morning, despite the misgivings of some of the underlings.

They just didn't think he was strong enough, strict enough.

She looked down at the envelope as she ripped it open.

"Dear Sir or Madam, we'd like to inform you of our great deals on magical pest management…" Sirius read over her shoulder. "Got a pest problem Zen?"

She tapped the parchment with her want. "Peppermint Humbug."

The dull type on the page morphed into Albus Dumbledore's loopy Script.

"Dear Zenobia,

Having read of the attack on Flourish and Blotts I feel we should move up our meeting. There are many things we need to discuss.

Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore"

Zenobia said nothing, Sirius noted that the page reverted to its original state when she dropped it on the desk.

"He sounds worried," Sirius said.

"He is, though no more than I," Zenobia answered. "The attacks had been slowing down, you know that as well as I. Some people, like Barty Crouch, wanted to celebrate. But Albus and myself suspect that now they are reving themselves up for something big."

"Flourish and Blotts was supposed to be big?" he asked. "All they did was burn a load of books."

"No, Flourish and Blotts was just one Death Eater," she said. "One person, a gas can and some matches. It was just his way of reminding us that he wasn't gone."

"The question is: what do we do about it?"

Zenobia sighed. "We keep our eyes open."

There was a knock on the door and the mail clerk, Weatherby, stuck his head in again.

"You've had another owl m'am." He handed her a rolled up piece of parchment.

She unrolled it and smiled.

"What is it?"

She rolled it back up quickly.

"Nothing of any concern to you," she said. "Now off with you, I need those reports before you leave tonight."

"Yes boss."

~ * * * ~

Remus couldn't surpress the belly flop his stomach did when his owl returned.

Clamped in its beak was a parchment envelope, sealed with a blot of green wax, the letter Z imprinted in it.

He almost hated to break that beautiful seal, but his need for an answer overpowered him.

Ripping it open, he pulled out Zenobia's response.

"I thought you'd never ask. Tomorrow at the Leaky Cauldron would be perfect"