Interlude: Kingsley Shacklebolt

Kingsley rubbed at his temples, feeling the pit of anxiety which had been growing in his stomach starting to rekindle. He took a breath, letting it slowly out before repeating the process again. It was slow work at first, feeling out the emotion until it was almost tangible, then separating and casting it back into its depths.

He didn't like burying emotion in this way. He wasn't the best Occlumens in the department and his emotions had a way of riling up and becoming more powerful, closer to the surface when they eventually managed to escape his hold. But this time it was needed.

Emotional fatigue was something he didn't need right now when so much was happening.

The case of Sirius Black had been reopened and with it a lot of questions were being thrown around. Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Department, was starting to take a lot of strain, questions being asked about how something like this could have been allowed to happen in the first place, and why the rules had been ignored. All of this while ignoring the Minister of Magic's own hand in the rushed nature of Black's trail.

The Head of the Auror Corps, quite rightly, was pissed off with the entire thing. But since he couldn't take out his frustration on the Minister of Magic, he was taking it out on his underlings.

Patrols in Knockturn Alley had increased. Visibility of Aurors had been increased. The punishment for Muggle baiting had been increased. Everything with regard to the law had been increased and that meant they worked more for the same amount of pay.

If I didn't love being an Auror, the man thought sardonically. Right now he was supposed to be at home, enjoying a night of solitude and maybe read one of the books he'd been planning on reading for the last few months. But that wasn't to be because the Head had asked him to work the night shift.

He leaned back, running a hand over his head before he pulled up. He reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out an Invigoration Draught. One massive gulp and he could feel a warmth rush through him, the fatigue that had been hanging in his eyes abated and energy filling him up.

He took a drink of water and looked at his case files. Eight in total and most three of them were missing cases. With everything that was going on it wasn't outside of the realm of possibility that it was happening again, that he was back and was recruiting.

But the people that had disappeared weren't of true worth. They were just people who lead normal lives, the only thing of interest being that they were either wizards or witches. A majority of the others were civil cases, a woman that had cursed his husband, a pair that had been in a drunken duel and were now being sued for damages. Things that required little investigation.

He was just reaching for one of them when a paper plane, red in colour stopped in front of him. Kingsley was immediately getting to his feet as he pulled the note open. It was from the Misuse of Magic Department and it connected the Trace: in the village of Little Hangleton a Killing Curse had been fired within range of a minor.

"Furrow, Mulciber," he said as he moved, "with me." The man and woman got to their feet and were following him as he went for the broom. They quickly grabbed them and walked into the Auror Corp's restricted Floo Network.

"Hangleton," Kingsley intoned and after a short spin the were walking out burnt out campfire and getting astride of their brooms. In seconds they were in the air and pushing their Firebolts as fast as they could take them.

"What are we dealing with?" asked Mulciber, the man with a wand to his throat.

"Unknown," Kingsley returned. "But there's most likely civilians and a minor. We handle this quickly and quietly. Take them out before they even know we're here, understood." He got nods from the both of them. "Cloaking on," he said. "Mulciber handle the Anti-Apparition wards. Furrow, you're with me."

Kingsley muttered a Human Revealment Charm under his breath even as he pressed a button to activate the cloaking spells in his cloak. Mulciber's form detached from their formation, moving perpendicular and being trailed by a thin membrane that disappeared from sight the further Kingsley and Furrow went.

They neared the sight of the disturbance but what he could see wasn't what he was expecting. He saw three forms below and only them, no child and no fighting going on. Was it possible that the child and its parents were already dead and they were too late?

Kingsley signalled and they swooped lower. He switched off the spells on his sight and he saw a clearer image. The three people, two men and a woman were digging at a grave, use rough tools but no wands. Kingsley might have thought them muggles were it not for the fact they were dressed in wizarding robes.

They swooped lower, Kingsley and Furrow shooting a series of spells that hit the trio before they could even react. Kingsley descended, jumping off his broom and disenchanting the Disillusionment Charm that was currently switched on.

"Keep yours on," said Kingsley. "Search the perimeter. There are signs of a fight. Find who they were fighting."

There was that pit again, but he pushed it down. Wand alight, Kingsley looked over the trio. They were his people, the same people that had been reported missing in his case folders.

The man moved his wand, conjuring thick ropes that bound the three individually. Kingsley propped them up before he woke them up individually, running his mind across their minds and getting an image of their most recent memories. There wasn't much, the person who had been keeping them prisoner was knowledgeable enough that they had kept themselves hidden.

Kingsley got nothing from them except that they had been trying to get bones from this place. The man looked at the particular tombstone and his heart almost stopped at the name: Tom Riddle.

"Expecto Patronum," he said and the lynx spread out. "Tell Dumbledore that someone tried to grab a Tom Riddle's bones."

The lynx disappeared, a flash of light that jumped into the sky and disappeared in the horizon. He waited, pacing a little until Mulciber was the first to return, landing on the ground and coming off the ground.

"Is this them?" he asked.

"Yes," said Kingsley. "I think they might have been kidnapped," he said. "Imperiused to do whatever they were trying to do here."

"I saw a Patronus," he said.

"A message to Dumbledore," said Kingsley. "Look at the tombstone."

"Merlin's beard," the man muttered under his breath. "Does this mean..?"

"We don't know what it means," said Kingsley. He was about to say more but then he looked left where Furrow was approaching. He continued, "We don't know what it means but with everything that's been going on it's not to be dismissed. We can't afford to let him reach a momentum again."

"Him," said Furrow. "What—" Mulciber gestured to the tombstone. "Fucking hell," the woman muttered. "This—this can't be real. I thought he was dead. He can't be making moves while his death."

"This is Voldemort," said Kingsley. Both of them stiffened. "We never knew what he could really do and we still don't. I've already sent message to Dumbledore we should expect—"

The comment was cut off by a whoosh and the landing of a phoenix. It spread its wings and opened its mouth, in Dumbledore's voice it said, "There is to be a meeting of the Order tomorrow morning at my home in Godric's Hollow."

The Patronus disappeared.

"Fuck," Furrow muttered under her breath.

"Let's head back," said Kingsley. "Rufus needs to know about this."

The pair nodded before they began preparing the place. They placed wards to inform them if anyone magical tried to breach the property. Kingsley even dug up the grave, conjured a sack and placed them within. After some thought he summoned a few twigs, transfigured them into bones before enchanting them to be Portkeys that would take whoever took the bones to an Auror safe house.