Unrequited: I'm a Veteran. Seen it all. There's only one thing worth remembering: Auror has to make sacrifices. Sometimes that means dying…sometimes it means letting others. Neither's easy. HBP, Moody and Tonks. Every Auror has a weakness…what's yours?


Muggle World

Evil strikes serpentine, lurking long in the shadows before releasing its coils; and when the night is blackest, even the most vigilant can be caught unawares. The whole of London was mired in an unnatural fog, and to a clumsy-yet-adept Auror taking a clandestine lunch break from the boredom of politics, it seemed hardly more than the brooding presence of Azkaban's exodus. There were few indeed in the wizarding world with the wisdom and training to detect the subtleties of spell-casting—Albus Dumbledore was one of them, but he, as always, remained faithful to his post. The Department of Mysteries boasted several, and every generation of every nation had its prodigies, true; but those with the magical training necessary to detect the presence and intent of the gathered Death Eaters today were spread few and far between.

All but one. Alastor Moody was a highly trained Auror, yes; but it was not his extensive training or long life of harsh experiences that warned him…it was that constant, nagging feeling deep down in his gut. He might not have predicted the exact moment when evil would strike, but he was waiting, and he was ready.


Brockdale Bridge

"There it is again," Benediccio said. The van was hushed, and even the milling pedestrians had stopped stone-cold, silent and anxious. Something had passed over them, passed over the entire bridge, silent and ominous. Ghostly, was the closest Tyler O'Connell could put it, like that feeling his grandmother always described as someone's foot passing over her grave…

"It's just the wind." Ali replied unconvincingly.

"Make it stop!" Ariel cried, her face buried in Tyler's chest. "Just make it stop!"

But that low, shuddering swoop and eerie, echoing thrum reverberated again, so faint and yet so dreadfully near. "Dios mio," Hector Juarez whispered under his breath. "You still think that's the wind?"

"What else could it be?" Palfrey asked, with seeming disinterest, but her rigid posture and whitened knuckles on the grip of her gunstock proved otherwise.

"Of course it's the wind, Ariel." Tyler soothed, sending a meaningful look to the other passengers. "Of course it is." MERMAID was enough of a handful already, and scaring her senseless did no one a favor should danger really be lurking—frightened children tended not to move.

It came again, louder, stronger, and accompanied by the faintest of groans, muffled by the dense, unnatural fog, and for a long while, no one in the van either moved or spoke. Ariel Wahling clutched Tyler tighter, and he, for his part—even the youngest, least experienced and most avid opponent of exposing firearms to small children—found himself reaching unconsciously for his weapon. Palfrey's knuckles had turned ashen, and her steely eyes stared out the fog-strewn glass, unblinking. "I was picking up a package once," Benediccio related in a hushed whisper as he brought the rifle slowly to his shoulder. "A small boat in the Caribbean. Before nightfall, a storm came with winds to strong we couldn't make land. We were stranded at sea for nearly four days, and during the nights the sharks would come and brush under us. Test the boat to see if she'd hold…"

"And?" came their collective reply.

"And I don't know what the hell is out there, but it's doing the exact same thing."


It's here. Don't know where, don't know when it'll rear its ugly head but it's here. Here right now. Ain't no dementors can hide it, and hell if I can't stop it. Show yourself, monster. I know you're there, you goddamned coward. Ain't no fog, no invisibility cloak, and no disguise can hide you…Alastor's here, you Death Eating scum, now come and fight!


There was a change, she could tell. Her mentor had stiffened, like a hound catching a scent…and in years of knowing him she knew that his sixth sense wasn't something to be laughed at. As an Auror during You-Know-Who's reign of terror fifteen years ago, Mad-Eye Moody hadn't lived to look the way he did without honing some sort of instinct. There were those who mocked him for the many times he'd been wrong-Dawlish included, but they hadn't been there on the field to have a partner's gut save their life. "Mad-Eye?" Tonks asked gently, "what is it?"

"Wand out, Nymphadora.," the grizzled veteran growled. "The first breakers are about to hit the beach."

Cryptic, as usual. Tonks thought with a wry grin. There were dementors in the sky, and perhaps Death Eaters in the fog…but for one more, glorious day, she was with her mentor, Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, and together they were invincible. Always have been, she mused as she slid her weapon down her sleeve to her palm, always would be…


Brockdale Bridge

PEREGRINE, this is EAGLE. We have lost visual contact. Repeat, lost visual contact. Do you copy?

EAGLE, this is PEREGRINE. Copy lost visual contact. Continue surveillance and maintain holding pattern.

Affirmative, PEREGRINE. Will continue holding pattern and will update you on further traffic progress. EAGLE out.

People were getting scared now, but no one was moving. That was the problem with human nature-people, when frightened, intrigued, or both, tended to freeze. But the eight SS agents tasked with the Prime Minister's family had had years of vigorous training to rid them of the foolishness of natural instinct and reflex when it came to the unknown. MERMAID was their primary concern, and even with hackles raised and weapons drawn they kept their cool.

But the pedestrians and other drivers didn't, and the ever-thickening fog didn't help matters. In the five minutes since Palfrey had decided that they should evacuate the bridge, they had scarcely moved 200 meters. Abandoned cars littered the causeway, or were stoppered full of passengers and simply refused to move. The braying of many angry horns was heard, and the SS van added to the growing cacophony and confusion.

"It's no use," Hector Juarez said in defeat. "We're not getting any farther."

"Not in the vehicle, no." Palfrey responded. "We can go forward on foot."

"I highly advise against that," Tyler spoke up. "We have little to no reflective gear, and there's a lot of cars up here driving blindly. Miss Wahling's safety is our first concern-"

"We're moving forward because I deemed the integrity of the bridge a possible threat to her safety. Hitting a roadblock doesn't change that. Everybody out!" She barked suddenly, throwing open her door and taking point.

"I don't wanna leave!" Ariel Wahling squealed, clinging tighter to Tyler. "I don't wanna leave the van!"

"I've got you, Miss." He assured her, holding one of the child's small hands in his own. They were soon flanked by four others, two more taking up the rear, and together they moved slowly forward into the darkling fog. That eerie, slow shudder came again, palpable and threatening, a presence so close it was intolerable. Ariel shrieked, and instantly froze, but in in the face of this new, unspeakable awfulness even Elanor Palfrey's firm steps were momentarily halted.

"Move!" She commanded, and they redoubled their pace, Tyler swinging their young charge up into his arms. It was faster, yes, but hurtling breakneck through the blinding mire with a hammering heart he couldn't help realize it had cost him the use of his gun.

…little though it would matter. The perpetrators of an unknown evil had completely surrounded them, and nothing but magic could save them now.


AN: Enough suspense already! Next chapter it'll finally be here!