Our portkey spun dizzyingly into existence at the gates to the Hogwarts castle, and I gasped at the lights. It had been awhile, and Al's words about missing his days at Hogwarts came back into my head as I basked in the brilliant glow of the castle's light.
The press of the crowd around me as well as Lacey's voice shook me, and I moved forward.
"Lena!" But Lacey was moving farther away, pulled by the crowd, and I waved to reassure her, positive that we would meet up at the castle. The horseless carriages of my schooldays brought another wave of nostalgia, and I allowed myself to be handed into one of a crowd of elderly witches and wizards. I prepared myself for a quiet ride when a blond head poked around a rather portly man.
"Your aura is fantastic, dear!" The woman cried, and another head popped out from behind a woman's large headdress as she continued. "Spectacular. You are a Libra, I believe?" I was bewildered; the rest of the carriage supremely superior, and I saw nothing to do except answer.
"Yes?" The woman's brilliant yellow robes nearly blinded me as she leaned farther toward the man.
"Oh, Rolf, she's wonderful."
"Of course, Luna, dear. Now warn her about the Nargles."
"Oh! Yes! Nargles, dear. You must be careful around the nargles."
"Um, okay." Luna peered at me again.
"Jimmy was present for your press conference, representing The Quibbler. Your presence was very impressive."
"Thank you?" Thankfully the carriage rolled to a halt, and I was the first out. With slight desperation, I searched for Lacey, Weasley, Potter, or anyone I knew, really. And there was no one. As the carriage continued discharging the elderly witches and wizards who I had ridden with, Luna and Rolf caught up with me, Luna grabbing my hand.
"It really is lovely to meet you, dear. The Weasleys and Potters speak very highly of you. Here." She shoved into my hand what appeared to be an elaborate charm. "We have been developing our wards against Nargles, and you will find it very helpful." Rolf nodded earnestly at her side as she led me through the doors of the castle, and so I took the ugly little charm, wondering how exactly Lorcan and Lysander had turned out so relatively normal.
"Miss Shepard!" Potter and Weasley were in the receiving line just inside the door, and had apparently spotted me. Luna swept over to them, still clenching my arm. The look of desperate entreaty I sent Mr. and Mrs. Potter and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley caused Ron to snort. Hermione Weasley discreetly elbowed him, and Ron sobered quickly.
"Luna, Rolf, it's so good to see you," Mrs. Potter said warmly, holding open her arms. Luna dropped mine in order to give Ginny Potter a hug, and the woman took a place next to Hermione Weasley in my book of idols. Potter grinned at me as his wife began an animated conversation with Luna.
"I'm glad you made it," he said. "Now, Hermione's making sure, for the most part, that Ron doesn't make an idiot of himself," Weasley opened his mouth to protest but then shrugged and closed it again, "so you're here on damage control. And also because I suspect my son would like to see you in that dress." I flushed as Ginny Weasley winked at me. Luna had moved on to Hermione, and Mrs. Potter now turned her full attention to me.
"I've heard quite a bit about you from both my son and husband, and I confess, I've been rather anxious to meet you."
"Good things, I hope," I said, shaking her hand.
"Anyone who can make my son smile like that and scare off the press in the same day is a good person in my book," she assured me. "Now, last I saw of Al, he was in the Great Hall with his cousins." I thanked her and hurried off before Luna could recapture my arm. The Great Hall had been emptied of its customary house tables, and instead was full only of people, with a refreshment table off to one side. Even in my heels, I was still short, and so I drifted around, keeping an eye out for red hair. A large cluster of it drew my eye.
"Lena!"
"Rosie!" Happily I hurried over to join my friend. "You look beautiful, as always." Rosie blushed.
"As do you, so hush," she grinned. "Did you just get here?"
"I did, and I met the Scamanders on the way in."
"Ooh, Aunty Luna," Rose smiled fondly. "What did she have to say today?"
"Well, she warned me off Nargles and gave me this," I held up the charm, "and she told me I had a stunning aura."
"I could have told you that," said Al's voice from behind me, and I spun to kiss him. He pulled back and took a long moment to look me up and down, a slow grin lighting his face that made me lightheaded, warmth building in my chest. "Hey, beautiful. You do look rather stunning tonight."
"Not too shabby yourself, handsome," I returned, straightening his tie.
"Oh, gross," Rose groaned, rolling her eyes and turning to the nearest possible person she could commiserate with. "Rox, Al's being icky. With a girl."
"Alby? Can talk to girls? Well, color me surprised." Roxanne turned to us with a smile. "Nice to see you, Lena." Well, I didn't know we were on first name terms. Though I knew all of the Weasleys from Hogwarts, vaguely, at least, other than Rosie, and perhaps Lucy, we had never really been friends. But if my boyfriend's famous family was accepting me, then by all means, call me whatever you want. "Also," Roxanne continued, slanting a stare at Rosie, "You're not really one with any grounds to complain about being icky, Miss Rose. Don't think we haven't all caught you with Scorp at one point or another."
"And that was a memory I never needed resurrected," Albus muttered. Roxy spared him a smirk. "Why am I still talking to you?" he wondered aloud. "I have plenty of other, less abusive cousins. Louis, my man!" And so we went off to converse with other, just as abusive cousins.
"I'm sorry for my family," Albus whispered later, as he pulled me close to dance with him. We swayed to the music.
"There's no need to apologize for them," I told him. "They're all kind of wonderful." Albus surveyed me.
"You really do like them?"
"I do," I promised, and his face lit up. His family meant everything to him, and it would have killed him if I didn't like them.
"Have I mentioned that you look splendid tonight?" he asked, kissing me again.
We proceeded to have a wonderful night. I found myself passed between dances with all of Albus's male cousins and James and chats with whoever was around after the dance, finding that I was very much welcome into the Potter/Weasley family.
I was in the middle of a dance with Hugo, who I remembered mainly as Lily's little troublemaking friend, and who I was delighted to find had finally matured, when a man cut in.
"I apologize, but might I dance with Miss Shepard a moment?" Hugo stared at me, and I stared back, shrugging slightly to indicate that I had no idea who the man was. Unfortunately, he also took that as an indication to hand me off to the strange man. And once he had, I found I couldn't bow out, as Hugo moved back, bewildered, and the eyes of half of the Great Hall were fixed on the possibility of a scandal hanging over my head. Press liaisons don' t create scandals. We put a positive spin on them. There was not much I could do other than survey the man in front of me and hope one of Al's other relatives or Al himself came to rescue me, unless the man gave me an excuse to slap him.
He was late middle aged, with a very distinguished look to him. That really is the best word I can use to describe him. Potter had a good presence, but this man knew how to use it. His trim figure, neat salt and pepper hair, and expensive robes meant that he obviously had significant wealth at his disposal, but I couldn't place him.
"I suppose I should introduce myself," he said finally, his deep, enunciated voice shaking me from my reflection. "I am Quintus Maderno."
"Magdalena Shepard." There was silence before he laughed, seemingly completely at ease as he whirled me expertly around the floor.
"You are so tense, my dear. It would become you to relax a bit."
"My apologies, but I do not believe we are acquainted."
"Oh, weren't. But we are now, and I hope to get to know you much better soon." The words, while spoken in a friendly tone, still sent shivers down my spine that made him laugh again.
"Sir, I really am sorry, but . . ."
"I am too." His uncanny gaze fixed solely on me, and I forced myself not to squirm uncomfortably under the intensity of it. The sound of clapping made him look up, and I immediately dropped contact with him. I made to step away, but his hands tightened on my waist and hand and his eyes travelled back to mine with an almost predatory hunger in them. "You have done admirably so far, darling, if that is any consolation."
"It is not," I all but spat, wrenching away from him and heading toward the nearest clump of red hair I could see. The heat of his eyes on my back followed me, though when I finally looked back, he was gone.
"What was that about?" Lucy asked curiously as I turned back to her conversation with Lorcan.
"I wish I knew," I murmured, still feeling uncomfortable. For the remainder of the night I was jumpy, feeling phantom eyes on me that were not there when I turned to confront them.
"Are you alright?" Albus was whispering, wrapping a hand gently around my waist. "Do you want to go?"
"Did you see the man I was dancing with? Who cut into my dance with Hugo?"
"No, I didn't. Why, was he handsome?" I couldn't resist a small smile at Al's easy grin, and cuffed him lightly.
"Not as handsome as you. Also, he creeped me out."
"Who was it?" Al was instantly alert, and I tried to recall the name.
"Quintus Maderno?"
"Hmm," Al hummed, thinking. "Don't recognize the name off the top of my head. What did he do to make you uncomfortable?" But I never got the chance to tell him, because at that moment Harry Potter joined us. As soon as he faced us the cordial expression dropped from his face.
"There's another victim," he said quietly. "If you could get Scorpius and follow Ron and I to the doors subtly, that would be appreciated."
"Of course," I replied, heart sinking. I kissed Al's cheek briefly and slipped off to find Scorpius, who was engrossed in Rose. "I'm really sorry to be interrupting whatever this was shaping up to be," I told an annoyed Scorp and Rose, "But we have another victim, and we're sneaking out so we don't cause a panic." Scorp looked more resigned now than annoyed, and he sighed.
"Give me a minute."
"Just a minute," I urged, ducking back around the corner of where I had found them. I watched as Al nodded to his father and Potter turned, heading for the doors. As promised, Scorp joined me a minute later, straightening his clothes, and we casually wandered in the direction of the doors as well, seemingly deep in conversation to prevent distractions. Al squeezed my hand as we passed.
"Be careful," he whispered, something in his green eyes that I didn't have time to place as we continued to the doors.
Weasley, Potter, and Price were waiting outside when we joined them.
"Ready?" Potter asked grimly, and we climbed into a carriage.
"Murder victim number four was found not ten minutes ago," Price reported grimly. "The victim wasn't dead when the attacker left, and he managed to call for help before he died. Fortunately, neighbors called us. Same M.O. as all of the other victims, as far as preliminary reports have discerned, though we've only just arrived on the scene."
"Thank you, Price," Potter said dully. "I didn't get a chance to mention it earlier, but you both look very nice tonight." Price and I exchanged appraising looks, coming to the conclusion that yes, we both did look rather fetching tonight.
"Thank you, sir," Price said, not batting an eyelash. "I find that if I dress up every once in a while, it shocks everyone who forgot I was female." Weasley choked. Scorp seemed to be turning red with the effort of not laughing.
"Do you know what a high-five is?" I asked, not bothering to hold back my own laugh. Archana Price held up her hand, and we did a perfect high-five.
The crime scene looked eerily as the others had, a dingy flat in a disreputable neighborhood. This time, I made it into the building, following the others in and cursing the fact that I was still in my blue ball gown and heels. Price was having no such qualms, striding after Potter as though she were in her everyday work attire and ignoring the second glances angled at her by all the Aurors we passed in the hallway. I was having more trouble doing the same, ducking my head and blushing as they grinned appreciatively. Wren mimed a wolf whistle and Goldstein clapped. Althea and George joined us on the way through the hall, falling in beside me.
"Very nice," Althea approved, and George shot me a small smile.
Proudfoot and Jones were inside the apartment as we entered, and I distantly wondered if it was actually a good thing that the sight of the intestines arranged in their letters didn't make me want to hurl immediately (though I was still decidedly nauseous).
"Tobias Tabor," Jones introduced. "Identical M.O. except for this. We found it in the victim's hand." Potter, Weasley and Price all leaned closer to peer at the object, and once they had looked their fill, they handed it back to Althea.
"A necklace?" She asked, puzzled. "Did the neighbors say anything about Tabor having a girlfriend?" She peered dubiously at Tabor's rather ungainly visage. The thin silver chain looked familiar.
"Move your hand a bit, Althea? I want to see the pendant." And then I caught my breath, my hands instantly flying to my neck. "That's my necklace." The room froze as everyone stared at me.
"Say that again," Weasley told me, eyes narrowed, and I took a deep breath.
"That's my necklace. I was wearing it at the ball." My hands fell from my neck. "I didn't even notice it was gone."
"Fox, run it for traces," Potter commanded, moving to my side. "Anything strange you remember from the ball?"
"Quintus Maderno," I pronounced with absolute certainty, pieces sliding together in my head. All of the taunts, the remark about me having done admirably so far . . . "Potter, he's the one."
"Go," Potter shot over my head to Jones and Wren. Then to me, "You're sure?"
"Positive," I assured him.
"I remember seeing his name," Althea interjected suddenly. "On some of the Mysteries records we were able to track down. He left the Ministry twenty years ago, around the time of . . ." she trailed off, and Price filled in the blank.
"Your mother's murder."
"This is all helping with the implication," Potter approved. "Keep going."
"It wasn't clear on the public record whether he was fired or if he retired," she continued, her voice just the slightest bit wavery. George leaned almost imperceptible against her shoulder from behind and she continued. "I was curious, and did a bit more digging. His departure from Mysteries coincided with the attempted theft of a still unknown item, which was later traced to Rowan Magnus, who has ties to Circe's Sorrows through his niece, Elsie Lloyd."
"So, this is speculation," Potter said slowly, "but Maderno wanted to steal something from Mysteries and hired Magnus and Tabor to do it so he wouldn't be implicated. But somewhere along the line, it got bungled, and whatever it was passed through Elsie and possibly Cythera into the smuggling ring before being lost for twenty years. Well, at any rate, we finally have enough that the bastards from Mysteries can't stall us anymore. Levitt, take Shepard and Fox back to the Hall of Records, then go with Price. Fox, I want to be able to shove that piece of parchment in Mysteries' faces. You and Shepard stay in the office, see what else you can dig up. Price, do what you have to to prise the evidence out of Mysteries' grubby little hands." With our marching orders, the four of us left the apartment and Apparated back to the Ministry. The trek down to the Hall of Records in the basement seemed longer, somehow, as we all made it in silence. George heaved open the door, and I went to help Althea find the parchment. She emerged with it a second later, placing it triumphantly in Price's hands, and the woman smiled grimly.
"Well, Levitt, this ought to be fun."
"Depends on your definition of the word," George muttered, following Price to the door. "Althea, be safe. Please just go back to the office. Please don't do anything stupid." There was true begging in his eyes as he stared at her, and she finally nodded.
"I'll be a good little girl and go straight back to the office as Potter told us."
"We will," I confirmed, as George's gaze slid over me. He nodded, and was gone. "We will, right?" I turned to Althea, who let the heavy door slam shut behind us. "Cause I'm grabbing on if you try to Apparate anywhere, and my mum'd kill me if I ruined this dress." She spared an amused look at my dress, and started down the hallway.
"Really, we're following Potter's orders." We were silent as we took the now familiar path from the Ministry basement up to the Auror office, but the subterranean corridors seemed impossibly darker tonight. Granted, we had never been down here at midnight, but still. And then the back of my neck prickled, the heat of watching eyes on my back as I had felt at the ball. I whirled, grabbing Althea's arm, but the corridor was empty.
"Come on," she muttered, holding her wand at her side and picking up her pace. "Do you have your wand on you?" I nodded, pulling it out of the folds of my skirt, and Althea nodded her approval. "Keep it in your hand."
I was more than willing to do that as we approached the lift that would take us up, but at the last second Althea grabbed my wrist.
"Stop!" She cried, yanking me back. I had barely enough time to see what she had, a benignly twinkling mist stretched across the entrance to the lift before the light of spells filled the air, and Althea cried out.
"Althea!" She was on the ground, writhing in agony, and I kept my wand raised as I squinted into the dim corridor. "Where are you, you bastard? What did you hit her with?"
"Such language," a voice tutted from behind me as arms suddenly wound, vicelike, around my torso. "Not becoming to a lady such as yourself."
"Maderno," I spat, struggling to get my wand into a position to hex him. He laughed, and it vanished from my hand.
"I told you we would be getting better acquainted," he cooed in my ear, and I shuddered.
"And if I told you I didn't want to . . ."
"I would tell you that you didn't have much say in the matter." His coo now held an edge of steel. "Goodnight, my dear."