The Next Day…
Glass crunched underfoot as the two men stepped carefully through the debris. The glaring light of their wands flitted into the dark corners of the hallway, exposing pictures that were broken and cast down upon the floor.
"Hello?" the taller man called. "If anyone's 'ere, show yourself now."
"Pretty sure they've gone already," muttered his dark-skinned companion.
"Mebbe, mebbe," was the counter, "but never 'urts to be sure. You check down 'ere, Roberts; I'll check up the apples."
They separated, stepping as lightly as they could, trying to prevent their long brown coats from disturbing anything as they moved: the investigation team would give them hell if they managed to fuck up the scene before they arrived.
Climbing the stairs cautiously, wand held high, Dawlish hoped that they weren't about to find a body. Judging by the devastation and glass, it looked like it had happened downstairs. That was fine by Dawlish; let the new kid be the one that finds the mangled limbs and severed heads this time! Once was enough for Dawlish, even if it had been ten years ago it still gave him the willies when he thought about it.
The upper hall was clean and tidy, no sign of a struggle, bedrooms neat with beds made, and no indication that the bathroom had been used recently.
"John?"
Dawlish moved back towards the stairs again, starting to descend.
"Got some blood down here." Roberts' voice was steady, but there was a note of resignation in it.
"On me way."
A moment later saw the two Aurors looking down at the scene; Dawlish automatically began to analyse it; the broken glass, smashed coffee table, knife marks on the wooden flooring, and the blood pooled by the fireplace. Not enough lost to kill, maybe, but a decent pint of claret there if he was any judge.
"So, Roberts, what do we 'ave?" He glanced at his sidekick, relatively fresh out of training, interested to see what the younger man made of the scene.
Roberts glanced around, sticking his head back out into the hall for a moment before coming back in to gesture at the room. "The door went, the owner answered. No sign of damage on the door that I can see, so maybe they knew them?"
Dawlish grunted noncommittally, gesturing for him to proceed.
"Guess the owner quizzed the knocker, possibly let him get over the threshold maybe. There was a struggle in the hall, no sign of magical residue or spell burns, so I'm guessing neither had their wands to hand." Roberts pointed to a mark on the hallway wall. "Light impact here, dent in the plaster. Looks like he hit owner's face into it, or an elbow. Something at least. The pair tumbles through the archway, into the lounge. The fight breaks the table; someone's got a knife, someone gets cut… see the light spatter on the carpet?"
"I see it."
"Owner tries to flee. Heads for the Floo, grabs for the powder, but the perp… he gets to him before he can escape. The bag's over there, all the powder spilled," Roberts said, gesturing to the right of the Floo.
"Okay."
"Owner takes a hit from the knife, a heavy one, bleeding badly. I'd think he's down from the pain. Slight magical residue here, looks like Apparition… maybe a Portkey… I doubt Portkey though."
"Why two blokes?"
"Pardon?"
"You've been saying 'he'. Don't get blinded, perp could be a girl, so could the occupant."
"The owner's a man."
"In an exclusive relationship with a woman, so keep an open mind, yeah? We need to check their whereabouts. Keep it neutral like; perp, occupant."
Roberts nodded, and Dawlish gestured for him to continue. "I think that's it for initial assessment."
"Not bad, Roberts, not bad. Agree with you, overall. Occupant knew the perp I would think, let 'em in, shit went south. This could be straight up burglary…?" He left the sentence hanging.
"Nothing taken that I can tell, John. Only things moved were probably caused by the struggle."
"So assault, murder maybe, or a kidnappin'."
"But why though?"
"Oh, come on, you know who owns this place, and you know who 'is squeeze is. Either one of 'em could 'ave been the victim."
"Damn, Harry's not gonna be pleased when he hears about this."
"Nope. Either his best friend or his best friend's fella's been taken. This is gonna cause a lotta shit back at the office!"
Dawlish cast his eyes around the broken furniture again, taking in the pictures of Theo and Hermione, smiling at him from the mantelpiece above the fire.
"Alright, you go tell the neighbour what reported the noise that she needs to stay put so we can get 'er statement. Cordon off the area, don't let anyone into the garden. I'll call it in."
End of Part 1