Things had to get a lot worse before they could get better. At least that's what Harry told himself when the second Dark Mark was cast.

He was notified of the event via paper airplane to his desk at nine in the morning. The memo was accompanied by an order telling him he was needed at the scene of the crime as soon as possible. He left immediately, departing alone. He figured Ron could find his own way there. Later on he wished he hadn't made that decision. Having another person around would have been helpful, even if Ron was a giant git.

Still, nothing would have prepared him for what followed that morning. No amount of Auror training or wartime experience would have prevented him from living through the trauma.

The duplex beneath the Dark Mark had baby blue siding and white window shutters. The garden, even in its grey winter colors, was trim and even. Even the front door was quaint with its plain Christmas wreath tacked to the center.

He didn't need to knock when he arrived on the front stoop. Someone opened the door for him before he could lift his arm to do so.

Liam Thorps greeted him with a glum nod after opening the door for him and letting him inside.

"Good of you to come, Harry."

"Well, it wasn't like I had a choice." He replied. Thorps glowered at Harry's nasty mood.

"The bereaved are in the room over." He told him. Basically it was a caution for Harry to mind his manners. "The girl died in the kitchen. They haven't moved the body yet." That was also a warning. Harry nodded and sucked in a long breath before stepping through the kitchen door.

The room was a similar blue hue as the outside of the house. A cream tile had been used to decorate the kitchen floor. He noted that it would take a long time to Scourgify all the blood from the grout between the tiles.

There was so much blood. Harry gagged when he saw the clotting mess puddled beneath the long black hair of the dead woman. A woman he had known since he was eleven.

Parvati Patil was the person to be sorted into Gryffindor right before he was. It was funny that of all the things he could remember, the image of the hat slipping over Parvati's eyes on their first evening at Hogwarts had been the one to come back to him.

"Potter, you alright?" A familiar gruff voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Gawain Robards gave Harry a rough pat on the back before steering him out of the kitchen. "I understand that she was in your year. Dated your friend Weasley?"

"No, that was Lavender." His own voice sounded far away.

"I see. Why don't you sit down for a bit." He helped Harry into the sitting room and deposited him in a reclining chair. His boss' sudden kindness was lost on Harry who was too busy trying not to see Parvati and Lavender Brown's mangled bodies in his mind's eye.

"Heya, Harry." Someone greeted him on his left. It took him a moment to register the smiling man beside him as Lee Jordan. Though he was always grinning, in this case the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Lee? What are you doing here?"

Lee pointed to his lap where he held a bound parchment notebook and a quill. "The Prophet had me run over as soon as someone reported the Dark Mark. It's kind of hard for the Ministry to keep something like this under wraps."

Lee Jordan was a huge improvement over Rita Skeeter. There was no Quick Quotes Quill and he was keeping his space from Parvati's family. Across the room, Padma was sitting between her parents, ashen faced and still. She appeared to be too shocked to cry while her mother was wailing loudly into her shoulder.

"She had gone out to get breakfast." Lee explained when he saw Harry looking at the Patil family. "When she came back, her sister was dead. No one broke into the house. Nothing was taken. In fact, it looks like whoever came over was welcomed inside. Parvati was holding two glasses of water making it look as though she were entertaining a guest."

Harry pulled his gaze away from the mourning family and blinked at Lee in puzzlement. "Do they know how she was killed?"

Lee did stop smiling then. He glanced toward the kitchen and shook his head. "Blunt trauma to the head was the original deduction. The coroner hasn't gotten here yet so we don't know for sure."

"So it wasn't done with magic?"

"No."

That bit of information made everything much much worse. Someone had to have violently murdered Parvati with a weapon. This wasn't a simple cutting curse enacted with a swish of a wand but a vicious plotted out attack.

Harry had to wrap his arms about his stomach and lean forward a tad.

"I know what you're thinking." Lee continued. "This has something to do with twins. It must. Creepy as hell."

Actually, Harry hadn't thought about that until Lee pointed it out. The twin thing was terrifying. This could be connected with all the bodies the Muggles were finding. He swallowed hard and nodded.

The coroner arrived a minute later and Harry was summoned to the kitchen to witness the man at work. The room had been mopped up a bit when he came back and Parvati was laying on her side, the coroner's wand waving over and over her skull while he mumbled enchantments.

"Time of death estimated at little under an hour ago. The skull has been punctured rather cleanly and upon further digging," he rotated the wand causing a wet mushy noise to echo from Parvati's head. A bit of bile entered the back of Harry's throat as a cylindrical shiny object floated out of the bloody crevice beneath the wand. The coroner caught it in his ungloved palm and held it to his eye. "Yep, just as I thought. Bullet, nine millimeter. Probably from a pistol. That's your cause of death right there."

"A Muggle weapon?" Robards looked bewildered. He reached over to take the bullet from the other man's hand.

"There's no trace of any magic on it." The coroner explained. "Never seen anything like it before. A Dark Mark cast but a murder done by gunshot. And one at close range too. I'd guess the shooter was only standing an arm's length away."

Since when did Death Eaters start carrying around guns? That was if the crime was done by a Death Eater. Most of them were rounded up in Azkaban by now. All the ones Harry knew of were so pureblood they probably wouldn't even know what a gun was.

"At least she didn't suffer much." The coroner remarked. "Do you want to tell the family or should I?"

Robards let out a long sigh like a beached whale at low tide and pocketed the bullet. "I'll do it. Weasley, you have that all written down?"

Harry turned around and almost jumped when he saw Ron standing behind him. It occurred to him that his one time friend had probably been in the kitchen since before Harry had arrived at the house.

"Yes, sir." Ron's voice was soft and higher in tone than usual. He scribbled something onto a long piece of parchment with a bit of difficulty since his arms were shaking. "But, could you tell me what a 'bull it' is?"

Harry rolled his eyes. Of course sheltered little Won Won wouldn't have ever needed to know what bullets were.

Robards mumbled something that sounded like 'fucking 'prentices' and attempted to answer Ron's question.

"It's like a small piece of metal that moves so fast that it cuts a person open. They shoot them out of these hand-held tube things that explode and blow the bullets out at someone. I can't really describe it. Ask your father, he probably can tell you all about that crap." Robards seemed to be back to his usual grumpiness. "Right then. I don't need you lot here anymore. Head back to the Ministry and get started on that paperwork. There's going to be a lot of it."

Harry was actually pleased with that order, a first in his few weeks of working under Robards. He was about to leave immediately but ended up forcing himself to give his condolences to the family.

Padma was gazing forward at something beyond the wall in front of her when he tried to talk to her.

"Uh...I'm really sorry." Harry spat out as he stood beside the couch the family was encompassed by.

Padma didn't seem to notice he was there and her mother only nodded. Padma's father was the only one to speak.

"Thank you, Harry. Do whatever you can to figure this out. But please, stay safe."

It was more than a little startling to hear such a calm and caring response. He recalled Cedric Diggory's parents on the night of their son's death. Amos Diggory had been a mess while his wife had been clear headed and collected, similar to Mr. Patil's reaction.

Harry must have stood there gaping at the man too long because he had to be pulled away.

"Alright, Harry, come on. We have to get going." Ron had placed a hand on his shoulder. Harry was able to stop himself from yelling at him but did reward his previous housemate with an angry sneer and a shove.

He pretended he didn't see the hurt on Ron's face.

They Apparated back to the Ministry and headed to the Auror department without speaking to one another. When he got to his cubicle and started shuffling around in one of the file cabinets for the paperwork, Harry was annoyed that Ron continued to stand next to him like an idiot.

"May I help you?" Harry snarled at him.

"I don't know," Ron looked somewhere between seriously frightened and needing to take a shit, "you think we should tell Hermione about this?"

It was a valid point, Harry had to give him that.

"Probably. Although we're supposed to keep the information confidential."

"Well, if she hasn't found out about it yet she will tomorrow when Jordan publishes his article. I would think she would want to hear it from us instead."

"Yeah, you're right. We should talk to George too."

Ron's eyebrows rose to his hairline after hearing that. "Why do you say that?"

Harry sighed and finally stopped digging through the file cabinet to look at Ron properly. "First Fred's body was found and now Parvati is dead. Plus there's been other bodies of twins popping up everywhere."

Harry guessed that Ron hadn't met Alice yet and therefore didn't know the whole story about the twins. By the look on his face it looked like the redhead wanted to know more, but Harry wasn't going to stand around and explain it all to him.

"Fine, let's go talk to Hermione. "

Her office was guarded, as ever, by Theodore Nott. The Slytherin gave Harry the run around again before letting them in.

"If she isn't expecting you you'll have to come back later. Ms. Granger has a report due tomorrow that she needs to finish." Nott cooly addressed them when they came to his door.

"Come off it, Nott, we need to see her. It's an emergency!"

"It will have to wait." He started to close the door in his face.

I carried you home last week! Harry wanted to scream at him. You were going mental and I had to nearly drag you out of the hospital!

He didn't though. Instead he coughed up the information he most likely wasn't supposed to tell anyone.

"Someone cast another Dark Mark. This time over a house. A girl from Gryffindor is dead."

Probably not the best thing to say to someone who had almost died from a heart attack at the last Dark Mark casting. Nott instantly looked ill. The whites of his eyes doubled in size and his jaw tightened.

"You going to let us in?" Ron questioned. He and Nott were matched for height making Harry feel a bit claustrophobic between them. For a good ten seconds Harry was trapped until Nott eventually moved aside silently. He walked them through to Hermione's office where she gladly put her work down to greet them.

"Harry? Thank God, I could use a break. What are you...Ron? What's going on?" Hermione glanced in confusion between Ron who padded up to her desk and Nott who refused to leave his position beside the door. "Theodore, could you leave us…"

"Let him stay. He deserves to hear about this too." Harry blurted. Ron looked affronted that Harry would let the Death Eater remain while Nott looked flabbergasted that Harry had considered him. It made him pause long enough to watch the blue eyed man with dark hair glance away quickly with a flush. It must not have been often that Aurors admitted Theodore any kindness. He smiled a bit knowing that he made the other man blush.

But Harry's smile vanished quickly once Ron started to talk.

"Parvati's dead." Ron blatantly declared. He got over Nott's presence rather fast.

"You're serious?" Hermione dropped the quill she had been holding. "How?"

"She was shot." Harry told her.

"As in…?"

"As in with a gun, Hermione!" He shouted it out without meaning to. Hermione flinched at his tone and blinked a few times but didn't say anything.

"It was terrible." Ron mumbled. Where Harry had been loudly vocal, Ron was barely whispering. "I've never seen anything so... so… I don't know, bloody. Muggle weapons are fucking gruesome."

Harry supposed the experience was twice as mortifying for Ron than for him. One who had never even heard of a gun until that morning wasn't going to be prepared to see the aftermath of one being used. Not that anyone had been.

"When?" Hermione asked. She had brought her hands over her mouth which muffled her voice a little.

"About an hour ago." Harry said. "We just got back from Parvati and Padma's house. And that isn't all. A Dark Mark was cast over it."

Hermione gasped and Ron quivered a bit.

"What sort of gun?" This came from Nott. His voice was flat and everyday but his pale complexion gave away his unease about the news.

"A nine millimeter pistol." Harry disclosed. "Hang on, since when do you know about Muggle weapons?"

Theodore gave him a dramatic eye roll and a sigh. "I work in the Muggle Liaison Office as the technology specialist. I happen to know a thing or two about firearms."

"Do yourself a favor, mate," Ron piped up, "don't go sharing that about yourself with everyone." It was a decent point but Nott looked insulted that it was brought up. His alibi for the morning was solid, being Hermione's secretary and all. But if Harry didn't know better, folks like Robards wouldn't give a Death Eater who knew his way around Muggle weapons a second chance.

"How's Padma?" Hermione mumbled from beneath her hands.

Harry shrugged. "Rather dazed and numb. I bet it hasn't really sunk in yet."

"George was the same way for a few weeks." Ron mentioned. "Then he sort of hid away for a while at his shop. Well, he's still doing that I suppose."

They all chewed on that statement in silence for a minute.

"There has to be some sort of link to twins." Hermione broke the quiet. "I don't exactly like George's girlfriend much but I feel that she would have a good idea on how to move forward in investigating this."

Ron groaned. "That's right, he's going with that girl from the Muggle law enforcement. Bugger."

Hermione nodded. "He won't take this news well. I guarantee it. If you are going to be the ones telling him what happened try to be supportive of him."

"Well no shit. Like I would tell George about this bluntly." Ron snapped.

Hermione stood at his yelling. "You're not known for your gentleness, Ronald." Her voice showered them with an iciness equivalent to the frost patterns that clung to the window panes at Grimmauld Place every winter morning. "You've proven that time and again!"

Her words seemed to be the final stressor for Ron to handle that day before he lost it. A feral whimper escaped the man's throat, evident that tears were soon to follow. Ron didn't remain in the room after making that sound. He was gone and out the door before any of them could speak to him.

A voice in Harry's subconscious expressed a need to dash after the redhead the moment he left. It would have been the proper thing to do. But when Harry didn't leave his spot and Hermione sat back down again, Nott was the one who ended up speaking for Ron.

"Not to sound rude," Theodore softly addressed them, "but I couldn't help but notice that you may regret that later. Fred was Ron's brother as well, after all."

Again, Harry found himself impressed with Theodore Nott. He half wanted to ask the Slytherin to start the sentence over in Portuguese just for admiration's sake.

Hermione, opposingly, didn't look like she wanted Nott to ever speak to her again.

"Mind your own business!" She hollered. "You're not even supposed to be here!"

Theodore clearly knew better than to argue with her nor to take her opinion to heart. At least on the outside he didn't show any hint that her scolding affected him.

"Ofcourse." He replied to her. "I have to get back to work. If you need anything, Ms. Granger, please let me know. Good seeing you again, Mr. Potter."

Harry watched the man leave perhaps a bit too long, but some people just looked better when walking away. "Guess not all the Death Eaters turned out to be utter arses." He commented, more to himself than to Hermione.

"If anything, Theodore is the biggest arse of them all." She huffed. Her arms were crossed as she heaved a sour pout at the door.

"Why, because he stood up for Ron? I don't think that really counts as sheer arsery."

Hermione grumbled a cuss word and began moving papers and oddities around her desk to keep her hands occupied. "He asked me to go to the New Year's Ball with him."

Harry's stomach fell into his colon; a strange sensation given that he really couldn't give a damn who Nott went to the fucking Ball with. "Oh?"

"I told him yes. I mean, I kinda had to. He made it sound so political and false, though. He even admitted it was just because he wants to help me become Minister." She suddenly slammed her hands on the desk, sending a few papers afloat. "Unbelievable! Me, Minister of Magic."

One of Harry's eyes twitched and he pushed his glasses up to rub it with the heel of his hand. "Well, could you get more flattering than that? He must think pretty highly of you."

A scarlet wave brushed over Hermione's cheeks. "I, I don't know. It didn't feel like he cared for me at all. I was just a pawn for his power plays."

"At least he's a better date than Malfoy." Harry snorted. "If you have to go with a pureblood Slytherin Death Eater, maybe Nott is the better choice."

Her face turned even deeper in color, like a bruise. "Draco isn't….there isn't anything between me and Draco!"

Huh. That was interesting. She was calling him Draco now.

"Sure. Whatever you say, Hermione." He winked at her. "I suppose Draco wouldn't be able to go anyways, seeing that he has to stay missing." He shook his head thinking about the slender blond currently occupying the Granger household. "How is he doing though, really?"

Hermione sighed and unfolded her arms. "I'd say he's getting by. He still has those crazy seizures a lot. Probably more than I know of since he never talks to me about it. Well, he doesn't talk to me about anything, actually."

"Considering who he is I can say that isn't too surprising." Harry shrugged and started for the door. "Anyhow, Robards needs us to get going on that paperwork."

She waved him away after mentioning something about Parvati's eminent funeral.

"We'll have to get Padma a gift I think. Remember how we made George a memory book?"

He groaned. What a terrible idea that had been. Giving George a book full of photographs of his departed twin brother had been as thoughtless as giving him a congratulations card or a birthday cake.

"Definitely not a memory book." Harry insisted.

"Why not?"

He put his hands on his hips. "It might have been a good gift for Mrs. Weasley but not for George. We're lucky he was completely wasted when we gave it to him. Truthfully, all those baby pictures you found of the twins probably made him drink more."

Hermione frowned and ignored his comment. "Well, I thought it was a lovely gift."

"Fine, then make one for Padma. I don't care."

He left her office without looking back at her. On his way out he almost crashed into Nott whose desk was situated right behind Hermione's door.

"Mind your step, Potter." The man cooed. He was typing something long and wordy into the computer before him.

"I, um….you can type? Who the hell taught you that?"

Nott sneered at him. "It isn't a difficult skill to learn."

That was debatable. Harry had never been schooled on how to use a keyboard. Anytime he needed to clunk something together on a Muggle computer screen he fumbled with trying to find the letters and pushing one button at a time with his index finger.

"No, you just make it look easy." He snorted. "Kids take long hours of classes in Muggle schools to learn how to type. Unless Snape gave computer lessons in the Slytherin common room, I doubt you picked up that trait at Hogwarts." Harry laughed at the thought of his old potions instructor clicking away at a monitor.

"If you must know, I had a friend who was able to teach me." Theodore claimed.

"Really?" Harry crossed his arms and grinned. "Would it have been a Muggle friend?"

He didn't mean it as an insult, yet the accusation that Theodore Nott, Death Eater, had at one point in time befriended a Muggle caused the blue eyed Slytherin to turn away from his work and glare at Harry harshly.

"NO!" Nott stood and looked ready to shove Harry into a wall.

"You seem awful defensive about it. I bet you had a few Muggle friends. Is that what made you so fascinated in Muggle technology?"

Go on, push me! I dare you!

"I….that's personal!" He took a step away from his chair and moved closer to Harry. "What do you care anyways?!"

"I don't." He urged himself slowly towards the other man until their noses were a finger's width apart. Nott didn't back down from Harry's boldness. He straightened his spine and looked down at Harry instead.

"Is there a reason you're asking then? You don't seem the sort to want to divulge into someone's private matters."

Harry struggled with what to say next. Apparently this was a touchy subject for Nott. That someone would seek out a career in Muggle correspondence but not go into how they had gotten there was strange. He watched Nott for a moment, taking in how frazzled he looked. Their previous conversation with Ron and Hermione was probably causing the young man strief.

"If it's that much of a secret, you don't have to tell me." Harry withdrew from the taller wizard and headed for the door.

"Oh?" Nott replied. He seemed a little startled by Harry's instant departure. His eyebrows had lifted and his head tilted. "Have a good afternoon, Potter." He gave a polite nod and returned to the computer.

Harry left with a bounce of cheer to his step. Even with the recent death of a classmate and his crumbling relationship with Ron, the interaction with Hermione's assistant had benefited him positively.

He tried to empty his mind of its gushy gleefulness. He really did. Unfortunately it seemed that the torch had already been lit and wasn't blowing out anytime soon.