The Ties That Bind

Part 1, The First Rise

By Laura

Chapter 20: The Many Faces

Disclaimer: I don't own much of what is in here. I do own the original characters (so, in other words, what you don't find in the Harry Potter series!). I'm making no money whatsoever off this. Blah, blah, blah. You know the drill.

Author's Note: Trying to speed up the rate at which I write these chapters.

Timeline:

The winter break during the Third Year of Severus Snape and crew.

Quote:

"Dance with the devil, the devil don't change; the devil changes you."

from the movie 8MM

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Severus Snape did not care for the United States. It was a nice place, but the people were…a bit uncivilized. Severus preferred his England.

Fortunately, they didn't have to mix with the Muggles often. They had visited more magical establishments as opposed to meeting in Muggle places, something that pleased Severus.

To his surprise, he traveled with Master more than his mother. His mother actually separated from them for large chunks of time. Master explained that he preferred to travel with a child because it aroused less suspicion. The reason that Master had requested Severus on this trip as opposed to Salazar was because, as Master told him, Severus was more interesting. And they actually talked. While waiting in restaurants or shops, Master would start a conversation with him. It was not all of the time however – there were times that Master preferred silence. Severus gave him those times, understanding them. Master had told him just today that he appreciated that he did not feel the need to fill silences.

Despite the people, Severus had quite enjoyed this trip. For the first time since meeting Jessica, he felt like someone liked him being around. And of all people, it was Master!

When Severus had first been told about this trip, he had feared that it might have been to inquire about Jessica, but Master had never once brought her up. They usually talked about the Dark Arts. Master also asked about school. A lot about school. But never about Jessica. Or Casey.

Severus was sitting in the hotel room when Master came in. While traveling, they would usually stay in hotels. Master always got Severus a separate room, wanting to give Severus his privacy.

When Severus looked away from his Dark Arts text and saw who it was, he bowed his head to him. "Hello."

Master walked to the bed and sat down. Severus sat by the window, but he had piled some of his school texts on the bed. Master picked up his Transfiguration textbook and started to page through it.

"Your mother has returned," he informed Severus distractedly.

"Thank you for telling me, Sir." Severus went back to his book.

"I've noticed that your mother does not care for you."

Severus glanced up to see that he was looking at him. He shrugged, nervously moving his eyes back to his book. "I didn't notice."

"Now, Severus, are you going to start lying to me?"

He looked back up. Master was smiling at him, causing him to glance at his book again before returning to Master's gaze. "I apologize, Sir. Yes, Mother does not care for me. She does give me an important job for the cause though." Severus couldn't help that memories of his potion testing surfaced while he looked at Master. He knew that Master saw every one of them.

Master nodded. "Yes, she does. And, for that particular service, Severus, you will be greatly rewarded. It's not sniveling brats like your brother that will be rewarded, but those that give a real service to me."

Severus smiled at him, a smile that the Dark Lord returned before looking back at Severus' Transfiguration textbook. "Transfiguration, Severus, is as an important subject for Dark Arts as is Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"In a way, all subjects are, aren't they?"

Voldemort nodded at Severus. "Yes, they are." His voice sounded please. Severus was happy that he had given such a great response.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Elizabeth Murphy showed her face at the bar too much lately. The only good news was that she was almost finished with her investigation of the Dark Operators. The bad news – that was the reason for the increase in attendance.

She sighed as she entered Callie's Bar and Grill. Located on the edge of the Department ranch, it was where all of the Department employees went to unwind. She usually went on Friday nights (as was the case tonight), and it was usually busy (again the case). Sometimes she went alone (as she was tonight) and sometimes she went with one of the other lawyers (which she hadn't for awhile). If she was alone, and it was busy enough, she didn't stay long.

Tonight, it was really noisy, but she really wanted a beer. She walked through the doors, said hi to the head waitress, and then discovered the main reason for the noise. The Dark Operators were having a drink. A lot of drinks to be more precise.

The group sat at the table with the closest and quickest access to the bar. They were strewn around the table haphazardly, with one exception. Riley Haderson stood, his back against the edge of the bar, a bottle in his hand.

She started towards the corner farthest from that particular team of Aurors, but she was spotted.

"Miss Murphy!" Mark Mighter yelled, toasting her with his bottle. "Join us!" He started laughing, revealing that he was already pretty hammered.

Elizabeth held up her hands and started to shake her head, but then her eyes settled on Riley Haderson. He was grinning at her, that maddening, cocky grin, that grin that had charmed all the females in school, that grin that made her want to smack him. That grin that said he thought he was better than she was.

She smiled back and nodded at him then his group. She sat at their table after telling Eddie, the bartender on duty that night, that she wanted a beer.

"You're pretty slaughtered, Mighter, if you invitin' the enemy," Richie Thender whispered loudly. Richie looked only mildly drunk.

"I am drunk," Mark agreed and started laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.

"Ya cut 'im off 'et, Ed?" Andre'a Kay yelled at the bartender.

Riley held up a hand to prevent the smiling Eddie from response. "Don't worry about him, Kay," he said. "I am the master of the beer tonight."

She grinned before telling Elizabeth, "We're at sup'vi'ory beer tanight. When Ri says we've 'ad too much piss, we get wa'ered down piss."

"That's such a classy description, Kay," Riley told her before slowly sipping at his own bottle. He was on his only beer, which was probably watered down.

"I aim to p'ease," she informed Riley.

"We're not kissing up, by the way," Josh Benson told her, who seemed not too gone yet. Or maybe it was Kevin. She didn't know the difference between the twin brothers yet. "We know that you're just putting the finishing touches on your report."

"You guys are such great secret keepers when you're hammered," Riley told him, causing the other twin to laugh. This twin looked as drunk as Mark.

"We don't have anything to tell," Kevin (or Josh) said. "People!" Kevin (or Josh) yelled, waving a hand wildly in the air. "We don't have any secrets from y'all!"

"You don't?" a girl yelled from the other side, over the noise (mainly laughter) of the room. "Then why didn't you owl me after our date?!"

The other Dark Operators started to snicker as both Benson twins looked worried. They ducked towards the tabletop as though that would hide them.

They started into various discussions after that, each one commenced with and ending in bouts of drunken laughter. Elizabeth finished her first bottle in surprise. She was normally a slow drinker and had originally thought she would start to think of an excuse to leave halfway through the bottle, but without hesitation, she stood up and went to the bar to order a second bottle. After receiving it, instead of going back to the table, she stayed by Riley.

"Why don't you join your team? I'm sure Eddie will keep an eye on you guys. He does for the entire bar."

"Didn't you hear me before?" Riley asked, tossing a smirk her direction. "I'm the beer master tonight. It is a position of great immense power." He chuckled.

"Do you ever give a straight answer?"

"That's considered a bad habit in my line of work, Miss Murphy."

Elizabeth slid onto the stool next to Riley. "Call me Liz."

Riley finally looked at her, straight in the face, a serious expression tightening the muscles around his mouth. "If you don't mind, no." He looked back at his group, the serious expression staying.

"Fine," Elizabeth said, starting to stand up.

Riley growled something under his breath but stopped her by grabbing her arm. He let go when she stayed and then turned to the bar, leaning his elbows on the wooden surface.

"I'm already not the happiest person that Mark invited you over. It has absolutely nothing to do with you personally."
Elizabeth nodded in understanding. "It has to do with what I'm doing here."

Riley nodded, only glancing at her in his peripheral vision.

"You're afraid if Melovic walks in here and sees us cozy, she'll think I've lost my impartiality."

Riley was silent a moment before saying, "I'm not afraid. Merely concerned. While Danny's threat that we'll continue our activities with or without Department approval – a threat I'm sure you know about already – while that still stands, it has never stood for Danny himself."

"If you guys leave the Department, Mr. Montgomery will not leave, for the sake of his niece and nephew. You're afraid to function without Mr. Montgomery."

Riley snickered but shook his head. "Not particularly. It's…it's his determination to be an ideological force of nature."

Riley looked over his shoulder when loud laughter erupted from his team. When he saw everything was fine, he turned back to the bar and to staring at the bottles of liquor across from them. "It's stupid. I just don't want it to come to that."

Elizabeth gave Riley his space on that answer, looking at the bottles across from them. After a second, she asked, "Why did you join the Dark Operators?"

Riley smiled, glancing at the bar surface before looking at her. "I was asked, that's why. Dan approached me the day after I got my license and offered me the job." He looked back at the bottles. "I said yes before he finished saying that he had a job possibility for me. He got mad at me for saying yes right away and made me wait another day before he would explain the job to me. I ended up having to wait patiently and sleep three nights on it."

"By orders of Danny," Elizabeth said with a smile.

Riley nodded, chuckling. "By orders of Danny. I also had to give him a reason."

"A reason for wanting to be on the team."

Riley chuckled, shaking his head at the bar. "No. Every team member has to give him a reason. He explains nothing further except to say that we aren't suppose to give him a reason for wanting to be on the team."

"What reason did you give him?"

"That's between Daniel Montgomery and me, Miss Murphy," he chuckled at her.

Elizabeth smiled. "I guess that's a good thing though. Can I ask you a difficult question, Mr. Haderson?"

Riley nodded.

"I find it hard to believe that one person can have pure intentions, but that seems to be the case with Daniel Montgomery and his intentions with this team. Is he truly that pure?"

Riley was silent so long, Elizabeth wasn't entirely sure that he was going to answer. Finally, he did, his eyes staring ahead but at nothing. "Grindelwald attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At Hogwarts, they divide the students up into four different houses. The thing determining the child's House is a hat that they call the Sorting Hat. The House they end up in depends on what the Sorting Hat reads in their mind. The brave go to Gryffindor, the loyal to Hufflepuff, the lovers of learning to Ravenclaw, and the determined to Slytherin. Slytherins have a terrible reputation."

"They all tend to be evil," Elizabeth said. "I know about Hogwarts, Haderson."

Riley held up a hand. "Yes but let me continue.

"You just said part of my point though – 'they all tend to be evil'. Grindelwald was a Slytherin. You know what his fate was. Jeffery Ziners and his brother, Jonathon, were also in Slytherin. One is dead, the other in Azkaban. However, Daniel Montgomery was a Slytherin as well.

"The Gryffindors have courage, Miss Murphy, not goodness. The Hufflepuffs have steadfastness to those they chose, not an unquestioning loyalty to everyone. The Ravenclaws have a love of learning, not guaranteed perfect scores. And the Slytherins are determined and have clever cunningness, not evilness.

"Grindelwald, Jeffery Ziners, and Jonathon Ziners all decided to use their determination and clever cunningness for nefarious purposes. This was not a destiny, Miss Murphy. It was a choice. I think you and I can agree that Grindelwald and Jeffery Ziners were rather good at what they did. They approached it without a question of doing what they wanted. They did their work without a thought to anyone stopping them.

"Now, let's take a Slytherin with this same exact determination and this same exact clever cunningness and say that the thing they desire most is beating guys like Grindelwald and Jeffery Ziners. Who is to say that he will not approach this task the same way Grindelwald did to taking over the world or that Jeffery did in whatever he was doing?" Riley shrugged at her. "Sure, Danny Montgomery is not perfect. He gets tired and wants to rest. Just because you don't see it doesn't mean it doesn't happen. It does. I've seen it. So has Andorra Dumbledore.

"But, in the end, it's like they say. Half the people with the potential to become homicidal maniacs actually murder. The other half becomes the Aurors that capture them."

"It, unfortunately, can't be as simple as what people say," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Nothing is ever so simple as words. Words are a manmade invention, Miss Murphy. The world and man are not."

"You're awfully philosophical for a Friday night, Mr. Haderson."

"It's Jessica's fault. She and Casey are staying at my apartment tonight. I told them they had no choice when Jessica spouted that line about words being a manmade invention to me this afternoon."

"You regurgitated a 13-year old's philosophy to me?" Elizabeth asked, laughing.

"I work under the belief that Jessica was born as a 40-year old trapped in a child's body."

"That description fits her brother more."

Riley shook his head, facing the bar again. "Nah. Casey is a 75-year old war veteran in a child's body."

Elizabeth laughed again. When she quieted and Riley kept his eyes on the bar, she asked, "So, why did you become an Auror, Haderson?"

"To vanquish evil."

She grinned at his smile.

"Honestly, Haderson. Why did you become an Auror?"

"Other people don't get it."

She looked at him to see that he was staring at nothing again. "Okay, I'll bite. What do you mean?"

Haderson looked up, at the mirror behind the bottles he had been staring so hard at in the beginning of their discussion. "My team…they're a good team. They know exactly what they're doing. And, most of all, they want the job they have. So do I. You're not an Auror. You won't understand."

"Try me."

He grinned at her but remained silent. She smiled back, "I seriously considered being an Auror, so try me, Haderson. I might understand."

The grin still on his face, he snickered but nodded. "Okay, I'll give it a go. Three nights ago, where were you?"

"In my apartment, reading your file on the Louie Goldman murder investigation."

Riley laughed. "Okay, you're a bad example." He pointed at a small group in the corner. It was three men dressed in pinstriped robes sitting at a table. "That is our Muggle Artifacts department. Two of them are married and the third has a dog." Elizabeth laughed at the detail, but Riley ignored her. "Three nights ago, Richards and Mannies – our married guys – were at their homes, with their wives and their children. Miller was at home with his dog, probably reading about something to do with Muggles. They were huddled in their homes, cozy and completely oblivious that not one mile from Richards' home and three from Miller's, Mark, Drea, and I were apprehending Ben Rhymes."

"Ben Rhymes?" Elizabeth asked in startled surprise. He had robbed and murdered three Muggles in the past two weeks. She heard he had been caught but had no idea…judging by Riley's look, he knew she had possessed no idea.

"I do this job so Miller, Richards, and Mannies don't have to worry. So they can live blissfully unaware of the terror around every corner." Riley was silent a second before adding in a whisper, "I do this to hopefully prevent at least one child from having to know the loss of both parents to very bad men."

Elizabeth patted his arm, knowing that he was talking about himself. She had heard about this during their schooling and had read his file, but those were different things compared to seeing him, hearing him talk about it…it was surprising.

After half a moment, Riley became uncomfortable with her touch and turned towards the bar once more but continued to turn the other way to cover up the pulling away of his arm. When his arm was gone, her brain registered for the first time the muscle of the forearm she had been touching, the one that she wanted to touch again. And Elizabeth remembered it surprisingly well. She took a much-needed gulp of beer.

"So, Miss Murphy," Riley continued, leaning his upper body over the bar top, "why did you choose the lawyer profession over the Auror profession?"

She grinned at the bar, tracing her fingers over the top of it in an attempt to avoid looking at him. "Because, Mr. Haderson, there was this one really annoying boy in my year at school. He was so darn perfect, and everyone, and I mean everyone knew that he was going to be an Auror. And not just any Auror, mind you," she shook her finger at him, forgetting her previous discomfort, "but the best ever."

Riley was smiling. "You became a lawyer because I was becoming an Auror."

She nodded, turning red. "Yes, I'm ashamed to admit I did."

He was quiet for so long, she looked back at him. He was frowning. "I was really that annoying?"

"Annoyingly perfect. You were anything and everything. Perfect Student Riley. Greatest Guy Riley. Greatest Athlete Riley. Greatest Looking Riley. Tragic Hero Riley. Oh, and there was just plain Tragic Riley."

He laughed but managed to say, "Oh, you have to explain to me those last two."

"Because you already knew you were Perfect Student, Greatest Guy, Greatest Athlete, and Greatest Looking?"

He shrugged, his face serious. "Of course."

She laughed, causing him to grin.

"You were Tragic Hero because of Vallen's hatred of you."

Riley snorted. "Oh, yes. Fond memories."

"And you were Tragic Riley because your parents. And this is going to sound horrible and callous, but Tragic Riley was the most irritating."

"Hey!" Riley said. "I never once used that to any sort of advantage. I even avoided answering questions about it."

"Ah, yes, you did, and that's what made Tragic Riley so annoying. Because you did nothing with it. It was just there, and when you avoided answering questions, the girls went absolutely crazy. Oh," Elizabeth batted her eyes at him in an adoring, fan girl way, "he's still so hurt by it. He's sooooo sensitive." She snorted. "I wanted to sock you one after one of those sessions, but then I felt guilty because you really did lose your parents and there was nothing you could do about that."

Riley was laughing. "I would have hated me too. I didn't know that they squealed about that kind of stuff." Riley went to say more but stopped himself, turning to face her, "They really dig that stuff?"

She rolled her eyes. "Impossible Riley has emerged."

He snickered wickedly.

"Riley and Miss Murphy, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-I-S-something-G!!" Mark laughed silently when Riley quieted him with a spell.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

After Jessica and Casey returned from sleeping over at Riley's, Uncle Danny thought they were in good enough spirits and suggested that they all visit the scene of the crime a year and a half past. Andorra had come for lunch and offered to stay when Uncle Danny told her what they were planning. After lunch, they walked to the study to do the deed.

They stood at the end of the hall. Uncle Danny and Andorra both stood behind them, letting them set the pace to this. The hallway led to Dad's study. The door to the study had not been opened for many months now, and it had been even longer since Jessica and Casey had been near it. Uncle Danny, according to Malf, had planned to open it almost two months ago but had gotten distracted. He had not been near it since.

"Only one way to do it," Jessica told Casey, and she smirked at him before taking the first step. Casey followed her.

And then, suddenly, it was Christmas Day again. The abrupt memory jarred her to a startled stop, making her blink and look around. She smiled jerkily at Uncle Danny and Andorra when they gave her concerned looks. When she faced forward again, she couldn't help but glance at her brother. He was staring at the spot the statue had stood.

"How did I trip into that statue again?"

"Your feet then me. I'm the one that fell into the statue," Jessica answered before taking another step. She stopped and turned partially when Casey didn't follow. His eyes were closed.

"Casey, he isn't going to be coming out of the study. If he did, Uncle Danny's here to kill him."

Slowly, Casey's eyes opened. He stared at her for a moment before nodding. He took another step to be equal with her. They walked to the front of the door together. Jessica lacked hesitation as she opened it.

"A thousand times," Casey whispered. "Were we ever in here without him?"

Jessica nodded. "I was. A few times. So were you, when you were younger."

Jessica never noticed the looks her uncle and his boss exchanged, looks that mingled with curiosity and anger, looks that would never have an answer, looks that were sure they didn't want to be answered.

Casey followed his sister into the study. Jessica realized immediately that he shouldn't be here. For some reason, she had thought they would have cleaned up. Casey had seen his clothes and the towels used to clean him afterwards, but he hadn't any idea what the scene looked like. Unlike his chaotic, horrible clothes, the scene was a mixture of both terrible and concentrated here, on this carpet Jessica had stared at for years. The blood was in the spot he had been tortured on. Just his blood was there. It was no longer or wider than his back, but the spot was so concentrated that it looked like a thousand ink wells had been dropped there. Casey slowly walked passed his sister and stood by the spot, staring at it, and she knew what he was seeing. The possibilities. Unlike other children who dream of the possibilities of fame, brilliance, and power, Casey's possibilities were not nearly as optimistic. They were of his death and how close he came to it nearly one and a half years ago.

Jessica turned from her brother, knowing he needed time. Instead she traversed to a spot that still rang slightly red. It was where her head had laid after Father had knocked her out. She hadn't realized that her head wound had bled so much. Suddenly, she turned towards where Father had stood. With a clarity she hadn't known she was capable of, her brain went back to that day. She had to blink in order to clear his image from her head. Jessica looked at the ground where he had stood, where he had fallen.

"Isn't it weird, Casey, how the only one not to leave a mark of blood is the only one that didn't survive?"

"What?" Casey asked, coming out of his revere and looking at her.

"Isn't it weird that Dad was the only one who didn't leave a mark of blood in the room and he is the only one that didn't survive?"
Casey nodded after a hesitation, staring at the spot where he had stood. "I…" he said a moment later, "I never saw his dead body." He looked at their uncle.

Uncle Danny looked at Jessica, who explained, "I asked Uncle Danny for no funeral. Just for him to be taken care of. Sorry. You were awake, but I still wasn't sure about your survival. Uncle Danny agreed with me, but I said I would tell you when you realized there was no funeral. Sorry that I didn't talk to you first."

Casey, still looking at that spot, shook his head. "No, that's fine. He was dead to me long before he died."

"The day he murdered your mother?"

Both kids nearly jumped when Uncle Danny spoke his question. His voice was gritty, making Jessica nervous.

Casey only paused a second before nodding. "About that time, yes." He stared back at the spot of his own blood before turning to her. "Was it scary? Seeing me like that?" He nodded towards the spot.

Jessica didn't move for a time, thinking about that day. She didn't know how much time had passed when she turned back to Casey and remembered he had asked her a question. She looked at her own tiny blood spot to answer. "I remember knowing what was going on and realizing what I had to do. I think I was terrified, but I knew I couldn't get too lost in the fear. I had to do what I had to do." She looked back at her brother. Her little brother. Small for his age. Skinny. Glasses. Suspenders. "When I woke up in the Hospital Ward, and I was alone despite the fact that you were right next to me, that was…I knew I was terrified then, and it's all I could feel for a long time, other than the guilt."

Casey bit his lip and nodded, looking at the ground. "We will never be punished in this room again, Jessica," he said softly. Looking up again, his expression serious, he added, "You did the right thing."

"You're here, Case. I did the right thing. You were right about Mom. Not the best choice in the world, but it's better than the other option."

"A lesser of necessary evils." Casey's grin was wicked.

Jessica groaned and rolled her eyes. "Dude, do not quote Severus to me. I get enough of the boy at school."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

The husband and wife Auror team stepped into Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Moody and seven other Aurors were there already, milling about the place. Marcus and Brittany walked up to Moody but before either said something, Marcus felt someone walk up to him. He turned and saw Sean McKillian, the Department Mind Examiner that had been hounding him for months.

Sean was a 6'2" brown haired licensed and badge-carrying Auror. He was built like a field Auror, but this was not the usual protocol for Mind Examiners – even if they worked in Magical Law Enforcement. Ever since Sean took over the Law Enforcement division of Mind Examiners, his own protocol called for healthy and fit Mind Examiners, so they could do field work.

One would think that Sean and Marcus would get along great – both were the youngest divisional heads in the Ministry and the youngest divisional heads each of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement ever had – but neither cared for the other too much. But Sean certainly had made a habit of riding Marcus' back as of late.

"Sorry about tagging along," Sean said, "I was curious."

Marcus barely controlled the urge to roll his eyes and only merely nodded at Sean before turning his back to the man. Sean got the point and had the audacity to chuckle as he walked over to his two men.

"At least he only brought two of them," Moody said. "And one of them is Sam Grady."

Marcus barely smiled at the news. Moody had a special spot for Sam – he himself had trained the man to be an Auror.

"Either way though," Marcus replied, "they'll unfortunately still be a nuisance, which is the only thing they do with perfection. But on to much happier topics. Is everyone here for the raid?"

Moody nodded. "You two are the last to arrive."

Marcus smiled. "Okay, let's get on with it."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Severus Snape and Rabastan Lestrange stood in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, casually browsing amongst the robes but more so looking through the display window at the ice cream parlor. They watched the inconspicuous Aurors exit the store. Rabastan chuckled; Severus smiled. The Aurors wouldn't find much.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Mr. Borgin," Marcus said to the storeowner upon their entrance. He held a parchment up to the man's face. "This is a search warrant for your store, signed by His Honor, Malcolm Black, and executed by the Major Case Division of Magical Law Enforcement, Ministry of Magic."

Borgin put up the usual fuss, but Marcus left Brittany to take care of that. He ordered people about before taking himself on his own mission to the back of the store, where no regular customer dared to tread. As he walked into the back storeroom, he had a feeling, a cold feeling that slithered along his spine. He looked around the storage and thought to himself, 'we were expected', and then he shook his head. They couldn't have been.

Unless…

He shook his head again and started on his work.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

A week later, Marcus stewed at his desk.

The raid turned up nothing when it should have at least turned up a tiny bit of something. The investigation of Rebella Snape was at a virtual standstill. Voldemort had been silent since the Muggle deaths. Marcus was nervous.

Moody was now off the radar. Brittany was gone for even longer periods of time. When she was in the office or at home, she was cranky. Scooner was in an uproar. Malfoy was tracking his every move. Marcus was cranky.

So, this morning, he came into the office, poured himself some tea, closed his office door, ignored the newspaper, and stared at his list – the list of people who had come into the Ministry the night Adam Rin had been murdered. But this time, he wasn't waiting for the name to jump out at him. He wasn't registering the names at all. He was remembering that night, talking to Adam Rin, listening to him laugh, watching him listen as he told the man about the suspected abuse of Jessica and Casey Ziners. He remembered the venom in his voice as he responded, he remembered watching him sign the Order of Removal. He remembered leaving the office. Marcus was the last person to see him alive. Marcus was the reason he was dead.

That last thought caused Marcus to focus back on the list. Voldemort wasn't on this list. He couldn't be. He wasn't on this list. Was he a random nobody? No. Marcus had a feeling that Lord Voldemort couldn't stand to be a random nobody. He would need to be noticed, he would need to see the results of his 'lordly' actions. From the second Marcus had heard the name Lord Voldemort, the whispered reverence, the toxic lace of envious fear, Marcus knew this man, felt him in his bones.

For a moment, Marcus allowed his memory to resurface of that night in Knockturn Alley. It had been just a few months before he had become the head of Major Cases; he had been doing some surveillance work. A trip to Diagon Alley on the books, but a cape with a hood allowed a small detour. He had covered his head and slipped into a side alley. It had been Professor Dumbledore that had taught him the trick. A hood to cover your face, a determined stride, never recoil, never stop. That allowed you to traverse Knockturn Alley undetected. Marcus had done so that night and had wandered into a little shop at the end of the alley, one that sold potions.

The shop was crowded, which is what drew him inside. Everyone in the store had pulled their hood off, which was fine with Marcus – he had transfigured into an elderly man before entering the alley. There were whispers traveling through the place like lightening:

"Are you sure he is coming?" an old woman wheezed.

"Yes, yes," her equally wheezing friend said. "Malfoy said so."

"Will he actually do what Grindelwald couldn't?" another growled, this one an old man.

"I know him," a fourth said, his head still covered. The others gasped in recognition, but Marcus had no idea, even to this day, who the fourth was. "He is brilliant beyond your wildest dreams," the man continued. "He knows more than Grindelwald ever did, more than I do, more than all of us here. He hates Muggles, Potters, Longbottoms, every one of them, more than any being here does. He will not waver on his fight, and he will never die."

"He will never die?" the first woman said and snickered. "Grindelwald muttered that same nonsense."

The unknown man laughed. "But Grindelwald also wavered. I have known this man since he was a mere boy. Trust me, he breathes this war like none before, like none now."

"But will he do what Grindelwald never did?" the other man growled. "Kill Dumbledore."

The unknown man chuckled deep in his throat. "Yes. Unlike Grindelwald, he has a weapon against Dumbledore. It will take some time to cultivate, but the day the next war starts will be the same day Dumbledore will die."

"Take some time? How long?" the first woman demanded. "Days? Years?"

"I'm afraid it will take some years, but do remember what we all said to Grindelwald – he was doing too much at once. Our resources were stretched thin. This time, we'll take out the Ministry's best resources before the Ministry even realizes we're there. Dumbledore will be the last to die of their weapons. And then we will commence with the formality of war to complete the domination of England. After that, the other countries will be quick to fall. Carrington, Stephens, Bryans," the unknown man said, looking each of the three in the eye as he identified them by name, "I have heard his plan, I have seen it laid out. It's already in motion. It's perfect. Get on board with it now, before you no longer can. Lord Voldemort…" the man paused as his tongue seemed to slow on the name, delighted, "…Lord Voldemort is god. Not metaphorical. He is god, our god. The one we always knew would come and save our souls. Lord Voldemort."

Marcus no longer remembered when the man left or even when Marcus himself left. Voldemort never showed up, at least while Marcus had been there, but Marcus knew the words would haunt him. There had been plenty of witches and wizards that had attempted to follow in Grindelwald's footsteps, men and women that were now either dead or in Azkaban. There was nothing that night that, in Marcus' mind, should have set Voldemort separate from the crowd, but Voldemort was separate, he was different. Marcus had felt it when he had heard the name. Lord Voldemort. A ridiculous name surely. But something about it, something deep inside Marcus said not to ignore this one, not to assume he would be taken out lightly or quickly. Some thing that had festered in Marcus' brain, some thing that had kept him up that night and the night after, some thing that had stayed with him for months, that had followed him as he was promoted to head of Major Cases, that had followed him as he settled into that job, that had followed him as Tom Riddle came back to the Ministry and ran his way up through the ranks in a matter of months, and that something finally ran into James getting excited for school. It was that last one that made Marcus' brain snap into action.

He had been in the break room one day, drinking his tea, talking with Tom. For the first time, Marcus mentioned the name aloud. He told Tom about the meeting that night, about this unknown man, about a man named Lord Voldemort. Tom had listened quietly, nodding in encouragement for him to continue when he started to taper off in embarrassment. Finally, after he told Tom he was afraid for James to grow up in fear as many children had during Grindelwald's reign of terror, Marcus stopped and sighed.

"Maybe I'm just a lunatic. Voldemort is probably like every other croney who likes to pretend they can do what Grindelwald couldn't." As Marcus said this, Tom was sipping his own tea. He finished and set the cup down, a smile on his lips.

"Marcus," he said, a light laugh apparent in his voice, "you're the head of Major Cases, right?"

Marcus chuckled. "Um, yes, I am."

"You're also the youngest man ever to be the head of Major Cases, correct?"

Again, Marcus chuckled. "Um, yes."

"And they only promote men to the head of Major Cases who are blithering idiots, right?"

Marcus laughed. "I do sometimes wonder about that."

Tom laughed too. "Yes, that could be true at times but not with you. You do good work. You're a damn good Auror, Marcus. I heard your name plenty outside of England and not entirely among Aurors. For the underbelly of society to be saying the name of an Auror as young as you, it does say something about the man. If your intuition tells you to go after this man, do so. Talk to Crouch, tell him you believe that we need to go after this man aggressively."

Marcus looked away a moment in thought, which caused Tom to speak again. He was quieter this time though, but nonetheless, his words drew Marcus' gaze back.

"I even offer you my services." Tom smiled softly when Marcus' return look was full of intense surprise. "If you think this will be another Grindelwald, one that has a real chance to be a Grindelwald, I believe you. And I don't want to live through another Grindelwald. Marcus, I was one of those children that lived in the fear during that man's reign. I don't want another child subjected to that kind of fear." The last part was said with such conviction that Marcus finally agreed. He talked to Crouch that very afternoon.

To Tom's great frustration, the job was never delegated to him directly, a desire he eventually hinted at. Marcus wanted this himself, he wanted to be the one knee deep, running the show, active in every way. Tom was delegated to second chair, and though Marcus had offered to give Tom his own chance to head other investigations, he insisted that he still wanted a seat in the Voldemort investigation.

Marcus shook himself out of his memory and focused on the list once more, the list of the people in the Ministry the night Minister Rin had been murdered. No, Marcus no longer suspected that the name would jump out at him. But was it some random nobody that had found his way into the Ministry? No, it wasn't. But was it a random name? Just someone from Magic society that Marcus had never met? No, Voldemort had waited for Marcus, killed Rin knowing Marcus was near, wanting Marcus to know that he was there and had done his deeds while Marcus had been close enough to save Adam Rin. Voldemort wasn't on the list in front of Marcus, but he was on some list.

There were the people on this list. There were the citizens of Magic society, some citizen that had snuck in here. But there was a third group that Marcus had not considered. High level Aurors didn't have to write their names down when they came in because they didn't have to always use the front entrance. There was a short cut, straight into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

There were three Aurors on this list in front of Marcus. Three low-level Aurors. The only high-level Auror that had been in the building that night, to Marcus's knowledge, had been Marcus.

Could he have been wrong? Marcus had suspected a leak in the Ministry, but could it be a high-level Auror?

Could Voldemort be a high-level Auror?

Someone knocked on Marcus' door. He jumped but smiled at Tom when the man walked in, remembering that this was the man that encouraged him to openly investigate Voldemort. Tom gave him a confused look. Marcus just chuckled and told him to sit.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

About twenty minutes later, Tom Riddle left Marcus Potter's office. A week ago, Marcus had garnered some knowledge of a meeting that was to occur between some of Voldemort's followers. Tom had possessed no knowledge of this meeting and was delighted to do as his supervisor had bid and investigated it.

It turned out to be among people Tom had never met or heard of. They were not following Lord Voldemort, but they did want to fight a war against the Muggles. Tom would have invited them to join the true fight, but they were too conspicuous. They also were meeting under Lord Voldemort's name, which irked Tom. He had no qualms about arresting them, even though their only charge was stupidity. For Lord Voldemort, that was enough of an offense. Plus, it was Tom Riddle's job for the Ministry – it was all in a day's work.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

The Dark Operators were in that conference room once more. It was the same room where they had been introduced to Tatianna Melovic about ten months previous. This time it wasn't early morning – it was late afternoon.

The Dark Operators had known something was up when they were all summoned into work this morning. Nothing happened until this afternoon though but, either way, they weren't surprised. The first thing any one of them noticed upon their arrival this morning at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was that their supervisory squad was missing, and Andorra Dumbledore was nowhere in sight. It had been quickly discovered that Tatianna Melovic was in a meeting, and Elizabeth Murphy was with her. No other news had reached Melovic's secretary, so she could not relay any to the Operators. However, the Dark Operators did not need it. Today was the day.

Their review was done.

Shortly after their morning of poking about the office for news and subsequent eating of lunch, they were summoned to the conference room. Riley and Danny were sitting next to each other. Riley was leaning back, feet propped on the table. Danny was slouched as much as possible in the chair, arms crossed, a disturbed look scrunching his face. The other Dark Operators sat farther away, knowing this mood of their boss well enough and knowing to avoid it.

"If they disband us," Danny said unexpectedly, his voice quiet enough that the others couldn't hear it, "I want you to take the willing participants and go to England to help with this Voldemort problem."

"I've thought about that and decided on 'no, I won't'," Riley replied quietly.

Danny glared at him in surprise.

The young man barely looked at his boss before looking at the Dark Operators at the other end of the conference room, joking around tensely, their nerves also on edge for the results of this investigation. "I've thought about it, Danny, and I decided 'no'. You'll stay away from us now because you have Jess and Casey to think about, and this team cannot function without a grounding." He gestured towards the others, "Their fear of you is the only thing that keeps the ideology of this team strong, the only thing that keeps them from turning. If we were to go to England and operate on the dark side of the law…I don't think we'll stay as we are."

"Don't you have faith in your compadres?" he asked, his voice angry.

"I have every faith in the fact that they're human. As much as this investigation was frightening, you do have to admit you understand Melovic's reasoning for it. We are handed all of the power in the world and with the government's blessing. The only thing keeping us from becoming drunk on the power is your stranglehold on our ideology."

"They'll listen to you," Danny told him as he looked too at those at the other side of the room.

"But I can't even guarantee myself. You know I can't, Danny. And you were the only thing that kept me from going all the way on that track. But, Danny…damit, I've seen you turn away bigger things than I did that time. The only power you want is the power to take down the bad guys. I've never seen anything like it, and I don't think I ever will. Maybe in Andorra's brother, but…I don't think Albus Dumbledore would be that willing to lead a merry band of misfits. Maybe if the stakes were high enough, but in a general peace, I don't think he would approve."

Danny smiled slightly at some distant memory, an unexpected snort of amusement making itself heard before he opened his mouth to speak again. Before he got his first word out though, Tatianna Melovic walked in. She was followed by Elizabeth Murphy and Andorra. All looked tired.

The Dark Operators stood up, nervous tension clenching every muscle in each body.

To be continued…