Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin or Harry Potter...otherwise I would have made a second season of WHR.
A/N: For those who reviewed, don't worry, Amon and every other character won't be OOC. But a huge thanks to Lady-Azura and young wiccan for being my first reviewers.
Chapter 2: Alleyways
Haruto Sakaki thoroughly believed that his worst nightmare had come true. Hundreds upon hundreds of witches were walking past him and not only was he wearing an outfit that looked ridiculous on him, but he was also unarmed. Grasping only air when he instinctively reached for his orbo gun, Sakaki was beginning to sweat profusely and nothing could stop him from shaking, even at the sight of his partner. Both of her.
"Sakaki, are you alright? I think you need to sit down somewhere." He was pretty sure that her craft had nothing to do with identifying him as a nervous wreck. He took a seat in front of an ice cream parlor - the one shop he thought looked the most normal.
"I think I'll be okay," Sakaki lied through his teeth. He leaned closer to Karasuma. "Aren't you scared at all?"
"A little," she admitted. "But we are undercover and other than you shaking like a leaf, there's no reason for anyone to suspect us to be anything other than witches. Besides, if you read the report Amon gave us on the plane, you'd know that these witches don't think much of non-magic people."
Ah yes, the report. For dedicating his life (especially his social life) to his job, Sakaki definitely had an exceptional talent at not doing much work while on duty, even if Doujima outdid his one skill with flying colors.
"I think it's best if we just sit here for now," Karasuma said. "You're in no shape to go anywhere, and I'm sure Amon and Yurika will find something out. Well, at least Amon will."
"Didn't Amon-san say something about gathering info from people on the street."
"Yes, and I've bumped into more people than I'd like. Trust me. No one's thinking about any murderers."
"We should probably do something, though," Sakaki reluctantly added. If he didn't do something, Amon and everyone else were most likely going to comment on his inability as a hunter. That's something he didn't need right now.
Down the alley, he spotted a bookstore that seemed to be attracting only children and parents. That would probably be the least dangerous place in the vicinity. "How about there. Hiding behind shelves and eavesdropping on conversations is a specialty of mine."
Karasuma laughed. Sakaki noticed that she didn't do that often, he guessed because she was second in command. He liked it better when she acted her actual age. "Well then. Let's put those talents to good use."
The bookstore was much larger than Sakaki had anticipated. From the outside, it looked like a small store, but apparently looks can be quite deceiving in this world. Shelves upon shelves were lined with...textbooks? All of the children had lists of required reading and were choosing their books. Sakaki suddenly became very afraid, both of the fact that people were teaching witchcraft to these kids and also of the nostalgic feeling that was reminding him of his own less than popular days as a secondary school student.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a quarreling father and son, who were dressed in black. They looked like a far too perfect pair to find out something dark and mysterious. With a wave to his partner, he climbed up the rickety staircase and "browsed" the section nearest to the dark witches.
"Draco, don't ruin any plans for us. I know you were listening to the meeting, and I don't want you interrupting our little game."
"But father, Harry Potter..."
"Leave him to us, Draco. Go and buy your books. I still have matters to attend to in Knockturn Alley."
Knockturn Alley? Wasn't that the place Amon said he was heading to? He should really pay attention to the meeting briefs. And what was with all these weird names? Who would name their kid Draco?
Before Sakaki tried to covertly signal Karasuma to scry the bleached-haired man, he was gone and his son was pushing past others in line to pay for books. Though he hadn't heard anything concrete, someone somewhere was planning something that apparently has to do with some guy named Harry Potter. Some spy he was.
"Oh, no, dear. I'm buying Harry's books for him this year. These past few months have been such a terrible burden on him."
Sakaki's ears perked up as he caught sight of a flame-haired, middle-aged woman talking to the bookstore clerk. She seemed harmless and this was the perfect chance to prove himself as a successful undercover agent. Skillfully maneuvering himself closer, he bravely walked up to the woman.
Swallowing the quickly rising bile back down his throat, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Excuse me, ma'am, but when you said 'Harry,' did you mean Harry Potter?" Straight and to the point. Amon was going to kill him.
Instead of looking confused or looking as if she had heard the name of some dark demon, the woman seemed to be accustomed to being asked the oddball question.
"Why, yes. Harry Potter is a friend of my son, Ronald Weasley. You may have heard of him as well. He was just awarded prefect! Isn't that wonderful?"
"Oh, yeah...uh...brilliant."
The red-haired woman laughed. "Exactly what my Ronnie would say."
Michael's quick tutorial about stereotypical British slang was paying off.
"What year are you in, honey?"
"Huh...oh...uh...year...uh...hey, I see one of my friends. Let me wave her over." Sakaki stopped short of jumping on the table and crooning an embarrassing love song to get Karasuma's attention. She walked over to him with a questioning glance to the bright red head.
"Kara...uh...Kara, this is oh...um...Mrs. Weasly, I suppose, and she knows Harry Potter."
Karasuma seemed to be the better undercover agent and a quicker thinker than Sakaki was. "Oh really, how wonderful. It must be a blessing to know him."
Mrs. Weasley chuckled. "I suppose you could say that, though he and my son get into far too much trouble nowadays."
"Boys will be boys, no matter how famous."
"True, true. Oh dear, I must be getting back soon. Teenage boys can eat so much, butcan't make anything for themselves."
Karasuma grabbed one of the bags and handed it to Mrs. Weasley, cupping the woman's hand as she did so. "Have a wonderful day, Mrs Weasley."
"Please, Molly. And thank you, Kara. Pleasure to meet you too...um...oh I don't think I quite caught your name, dear."
"Haru, ma'am. And the pleasure's all mine."
Mrs. Weasley smiled and jumbled past the rest of the customers, balancing the large number of packages in her hands.
Sakaki looked apologetically at Karasuma for almost spilling her name and prepared for the mother load of all reprimands. Instead she turned to him with a worried and serious expression.
"We need to find Amon."
The alleyway was littered with people who would have easily secured a place in the STN-J database. His choice in black robes matched that of virtually everyone there. Amon uneasily admitted to himself that he fit in a little too perfectly with those shopping in Knockturn Alley.
It was not by a stroke of luck that had gotten Amon and his team into the large plaza hidden behind a brick wall. A substance called floo powder had been an option, but Amon couldn't trust Sakaki nor Doujima to get to the right place and couldn't afford to lose them into enemy hands. However, an insider at the Ministry of Magic had bestowed the STN-E with information about how to infiltrate Diagon Alley. Apparently, the insider had some quarrel with the wizarding community, he himself being unable to use magic and stuck working as a secretary in the ministry.
Though Amon had wanted to interrogate the man, one step through the brick wall told him that any revelation of identities in this place would lead to their immediate deaths or capture. Unwilling to risk that possibility for a talk with a man who had no other recorded encounter with Solomon, Amon decided that his team should stick to observing witches.
He sent Doujima to the clothing store, which would ensure that she would be out of the way as well as provide insight into whether their attire from STN-E storage facility was accurate enough to pass for further investigations. Doujima certainly had an eye for detail when it came to fashion. She'd be the best candidate for this particular investigation, though he shuddered to think about the future conversation they would have about the clothing.
Sakaki had been extremely pale, so he had sent both Sakaki and Karasuma to find out anything pertaining to strange happenings, and more importantly, Sirius Black. Hopefully Karasuma would get some useful information.
Michael was left with Zaizen in STN-E headquarters. He was monitoring their situation, though once inside the new world, all contact had been severed due to some jamming devices to the outside world. The Ministry, it seemed, had a tyrannical control over this area. Covertly talking into hidden microphones probably would have attracted too much attention anyway, though Amon may have fit in with some of the crazier people in Knockturn Alley who seemed to be having animated discussions with an invisible friend.
Robin had accompanied Amon as far as the entrance to Knockturn Alley, but both realized that a girl with pigtails, whether wearing black or not, was not going to fit the bill in this area. He instead sent Robin to observe some of the younger children and teenagers and see if they had any outrageous stories that sounded very similar to their case.
Amon glanced down a particularly crowded side street. He had regretted leaving Robin behind. Zaizen would not be happy with his decision. He needed to keep a close eye on her, but the decision was unavoidable, and Knockturn Alley looked to possess a wealth of dark knowledge that they needed to solve the case. Amon was pretty attuned to Robin's mannerisms, and if she had changed, he'd know what the cause was. Amon ignored the fact that observing one's own partner on a regular basis before being told to do so was not proper protocol for Solomon or any other organization.
The first normal looking man (i.e. one without a hump, typical witch-like warts or imaginary companion) caught Amon's attention. He had bleached blond hair and seemed to be of noble upbringing. His stride was confident, his nose was held high, he carried a cane unlike the wooden and misshapen one's he's seen already and the man's robes were obviously expensive, even to an untrained eye. The man also seemed to be walking to a particularly destination.
Putting his tracking skills to good use, he discreetly followed the man into a store filled with odd objects and, thankfully, with other people as well. Having trained for many years, Amon honed in on the man's conversation with his heightened senses, ignoring the other people around him. The moving severed hand seemed as good as any to pretend to be looking at.
"Master Malfoy. A pleasure to see you, sir. I assume you've come for that package."
"I hope everything is in order, for your sake."
"Of course, of course. I would never do anything that would upset you or You-Know-Who."
Amon blinked at the odd reference.
"Yes, the Dark Lord would not be too forgiving with any mistakes. I'm sure both you and your family would appreciate being on his good side, hmmmm."
"Why, yes. Yes, of course." The man hurriedly shuffled into the backroom.
"Dark Lord" sounded promising. A title like that is usually never a good sign in any context. Either they were talking about Sirius Black or they were referring to someone else of higher status. He was leaning toward the latter. Even with a name like "Sirius," to call him the Dark Lord when his last name is in fact "Black" would have been a little too hokey.
The pale man came back and handed the distinguished gentleman a wooden box no larger than a pencil case. They began dancing around pleasantries and the conversation was losing interest. Amon exited the store and hid in a dark alleyway. He needed more information about this Dark Lord, and there was one direct way of getting it. The darkness will hide his identity and it was doubtful that any law enforcement or righteous citizen would disrupt his interrogation. His team was not here either, which would save him the time of explaining to them his own brutal methods. Solomon trained him for this purpose, and it was necessary in the situation. The nobleman had looked easy enough to scare. People like him usually are.
The man walked out and approached Amon's alleyway. The nobleman would not be used to seeing in the dark. Amon was.
When the man was completely out of sight from the main street, Amon pinned the man to the wall, knocking his cane and covering his mouth. Amon was slightly surprised to see a tattoo of a skull with a snake as a tongue on the nobleman's wrist. Ignoring the odd marking, he reached into the man's coat pocket, retrieved the wand and held it to the man's face.
"You and I both know that no one here will save you, so I would suggest not doing anything unnecessary if you want to keep your head," Amon said lowering the register of his voice at least two octaves. He released his hand from the man's mouth but kept him securely pinned to the wall. Something Amon was quietly appreciating about these new witches was their predictable inability to fight physically. They learned to use their crafts at a distance and hand-to-hand combat seemed to be a very last resort. He wouldn't have to worry about kicking, but he would have to worry about why someone would attack this man. The robbery scenario seemed best.
"Now, would you be so kind as to tell me where your money is?"
"Fool, do you have any idea who I am?"
"Malfoy, right. I'm sure you'll survive after losing only a small percentage of your bank roll."
Malfoy chuckled. "I work for Lord Voldemort." Malfoy shuddered beneath Amon's arm as he said it, as if he himself would suddenly be cursed for uttering his master's name. "I'm sure you've heard the name. I am his faithful servant, and if you don't release me right now, you will suffer a most terrible death."
Amon considered the words and then remembered the clerk's obvious fear in saying the name. "You say his name freely. Are you sure you should be admitting this affiliation to me?"
"Pfft. And who exactly would believe you. Not only do those ministry fools think the Dark Lord is dead, they would not possibly believe a scum-sucking hobo over me. You're probably nothing but a filthy mudblood."
Though Amon hadn't heard the word before, he was sure it was derogatory in some way, so he decided to act as if he were offended. He gave a solid punch across Malfoy's face. Unfortunately the blow seemed to have knocked him out. Amon sighed. He hadn't thought that would have knocked anyone unconscious.
He looked around. Leaving without something would be a problem. Malfoy would get suspicious if he had been assaulted by a thief and not had anything stolen. Amon rummaged through the man's clothing despite the dirty feeling that he was getting. Pocketing the man's money purse which he was assuring himself would come in handy since the money system seemed to be different here, he caught a glimpse of the box that Malfoy had fussed over. Though the box was a mystery and taking it would probably cause a lot of trouble, he would be remiss if he let someone named Lord Voldemort or the Dark Lord receive what he wanted.
Amon stuffed the box in his robes. The robes were becoming handy in concealing many hidden objects. The cane would be too obvious to everyone else that he had just ransacked Malfoy. He had to leave before Malfoy awoke or others found them. He broke the wand in half and retreated away from the alley and the store in case anyone had seen Malfoy walk into the shadows. Amon decided to keep low in Knockturn Alley before making his way back toward Diagon Alley.
