17/09/2008
05:34
12, Grimmauld Place, London, UK

The phone rang. Harry Potter draped his arm over his wife's shoulder again and decided to ignore the phone again. Phone calls in the middle of the night were a normal thing, he was the second-executive-auror of the British Magical and Paranormal Law Enforcement, after all. Besides, it was half-past five in the morning. He deserved some rest. So he shifted and pulled the sleeping keeper closer, along with the blanket. As he shifted to put his nose back into his wife's red mane, the phone buzzed again. Ginerva groaned and turned, the blanket shifted to reveal some of her bosom. Harry's green eyes fluttered open completely at the site in the pale moonlight. But before he could make his way into her chest, Ginny pushed him over with the keeper's strength and groaned, "Pick up the damn phone, Potter." and turned over to the other site. Harry sighed and made out for the phone in the dark, it was on the table beside the bed. He picked it up and answered,

"Who is it?" He asked in an annoyed voice, rubbing his eyes.

"Harry?" a strong feminine voice spoke and he was kicked out of the inertia of his sleep,

"Uhh, yes, well, morning Tonks. Why did you call, I mean-"

"There's a situation, well, a murder, I am sending co-ordinates, we need you,"

"Hey, wait, I...shit." and the phone was cut, he looked over at Ginny who was staring at him now, an eyebrow cocked, he smiled sheepishly.

"Work?" She asked and he nodded. She rolled back over."Be back before the breakfast, or no pancakes." she said sleepily.

"Of course darling," He said and leaned in, kissed her temple, and stood up. He scrambled for his wand and found it resting against his badge and glasses. He then pulled over his jeans and a jacket.

He walked out of the bedroom, glanced down his son's room and picked up the door keys from the dining table, opened the door, and was greeted by the scent of damp soil in cool wind and a sprinkle of water, the weatherman said something about a storm. It was drizzling now, he hoped there was not a storm. He sighed again and pulled out his phone, tapped the notification, and read the co-ordinates. He twisted on his feet. With a pop, he disappeared.

05:40
10, Downing Street, London, UK

With another pop, Harry reappeared in a street, it was still dark, raining heavily now, but the scene was almost lively. In the wake of the headlights, he could see several muggle police officers in raincoats and other civilians outside the house which had several warning tapes around its entrance. A muggle was killed. Then why did Nymphadora call him? He walked further, a police officer noticed him. He started walking towards him, his hand over his balding head, covering it with a manila folder but Harry kept walking. There was no sign of destruction on the front, only the door looked opened ajar. Undisturbed coverings of lilacs on either side of it. He could smell the soil again. There was no sign of murder.

He could not make out the outlines of people in the house. There was no destruction. Surely the muggles must have put up some sort of security system. And whatever they were must be broken, and only someone with magic could pass the sensors without being noticed, this was a mage.

"Excuse me, sir, you can't-" Officer Hart stopped midsentence, as Harry waved his wand over his face. He looked confused for a moment, then smiled rather brightly, "A coffee, sure officer Potter," the cop walked away and Harry resumed his search, not at all caring about how he would bring a coffee at five in the morning. He kept walking, ignoring the water wetting his hair, as he did, he was used to the rains by now. It was always raining in London. He didn't really like storms, though. Never did.

He stepped over the tape. And conjured gloves over his hands as he pushed the door open. As he walked in, he looked around, it was a townhouse, an old one at that. The furniture and decorations were neat, with no sign of struggle. It had started looking more and more like a mage perpetrated case. He climbed up the stairs and saw and ignored more officers.

As he reached the first floor, he looked out of the window. The victims must be quite famous for the number of people that were standing outside and taking pictures. He heard Tonk's voice from the room down the hallway. He kept walking. There was still no sign of struggle or if someone had even entered the house last night. The flower vases and paintings were expensive-looking. He padded further and opened the bedroom door. He stopped in his tracks, on the wall, he read, in blood,

NO MORE SECRETS

There was a flash of light and Harry saw Dennis Creevey standing in front of the wall, taking a picture with his polaroid.
"Hey, Harry," Dennis said, flashing him a smile. He returned it and then looked over at Tonks standing over the bed. He walked over to her and looked down at the bodies, A blonde man of fifty to sixty with a slit in his throat, blood still spilling and soaking the sheets, and a woman of the same age, dead. No cuts. He didn't know why, but the man looked oddly familiar, he had seen him somewhere. He couldn't point it out though.

"Third unforgivable, on both of them and then the blood of the male victim, was used for that," Tonks said and pointed at the wall. Harry nodded and looked at the muggle officer who was standing in the corner and eyeing them suspiciously.

"If this is perpetrated by mages, then why are they here?" He remarked.

"That man," Tonks said, pointing at the dead man on the bed, "was the prime minister of the Muggles."

"Oh," shocked would be an understatement. He didn't know much about the muggle politics, but enough that no one would want to kill the guy. This is going to get messy. Very messy. Speaking of mess,

"Shouldn't the first executive auror take care of a mage-perpetrated case along with the head auror?" He asked the head auror, who was now sipping on the coffee Harry had confunded the officer to bring for him.

"Draco is out of the station." She said and took a seat at the bed, beside the lady and began checking out the necklace she was wearing.

"Dolohov's case?"

"Yes." She said with an air of finality that ended the topic. Tonks had hardened after the war, but he could still see it in her eyes sometimes, she was lonely. After Lupin's death at the hands of Dolohov, she had raised Teddy alone, along with Andromeda. It had been ten years after the war. But last month when Someone had tipped about Dolohov's residence in Russia, She was about to take the case for herself. That was when Draco had stepped in. Well, he was another interesting character. He rarely did things for others. There had been several instances when he had put his partner's lives in danger just to lure the enemy, without them knowing. And Harry told that by experience. He was the worst partner. But perhaps the best auror Britain had had in centuries. People often disregarded that fact. And for a very good reason. Draco Black [once Malfoy] was ruthless, cruel, calculative, emotionless. He had killed innocent muggles and wizards, just to get the trust of Voldemort during the war, which he had used against him thoroughly. He had destroyed five Horcruxes in two weeks, while Harry, Ron, and Hermione were aimlessly roaming in forests. No one wanted to be his partner.

So it came as a shock when he took the case. When one asked why that one being Kingsley, no one else had the nerve to even think about his decisions, He had answered that Nymphadora had too much emotional burden for carrying out this job and he was ought to take it since he was directly under Tonks and Kingsley. All of them were shocked at this, specially Tonks. She thought Draco didn't even know that she was his cousin. No one else questioned his judgment. After all, his decisions were the most precise, calculated, judged, and resulted in the best outcomes and victories with the least casualties. Harry had seen it first hand when they had fought together for the Order. Trelawney had called him a usurper in the affairs of wars. Of course, no one cared about that.

"Why would a mage target the prime minister?" He asked, flipping through the paper kept on the table.

"I think they are trying to give us a message," Tonks said, as she stood up and looked at the wall. "Hathaway was one of the very few of muggle ministers that knew about mages." She turned back at Harry, whose eyes widened in realization.

"They want to break the statute." He said slowly. Nymphadora nodded.

"Grindelwald tried to do something like this," Tonks said.

"He was behind the rise of Nazis, and the second world war. He was the one who sent Rasputin to"

"I know that story," Tonks said. He nodded. These things somehow got him very excited.

"Are there any witnesses?" He asked as he looked at the photos Dennis had taken.

"No, the coast was completely clear," Dennis answered. Harry nodded again.

"Who reported this?"

"There was a letter," Tonks said and gave him a letter. Harry raised his eyebrows.

Fifteen minutes later,
11,474.5 kilometres away,
Somewhere in Vladivostok, Russia.

A man threaded down the snow slowly and pulled out binoculars from his furred jacket. His black hair stuck out in the cold wind. That didn't matter, he had a deal to make. He could make out headlights of two trucks on the road. He then rotated the dial, turned on infrared, and scanned the driveway, two trucks alright. Dolohov smiled crookedly. He tucked the binoculars back into his jacket and turned around. He took another swig from his hip flask and entered the warehouse.

"достаньте коробку, американцы идут!" He said to one of his men and they nodded. Two of them disappeared behind the containers. Dolohov then looked at the other scrawny looking boy,

"ты," he said, pointing a chirped and spoiled finger at him, "открой ворота!" The boy nodded and ran over to the lever, and pulled at it, barely able to turn the weight over. Dolohov grunted, walking down to him. This was his first deal in months and he was not going to get it ruined.

"переехать!" He dismissed him roughly and pulled the lever down and completely opening the door. He turned and threw a Crucio at the boy. He writhed in pain and Dolohov leered."жалкий" he commented and walked back at the opening of the door.

Staring like a cat at the two approaching trucks. His plans would finally be fulfilled. He took another swig. He had waited for months. This was not going to waste. He snaked his gloved hand into his coat pocket and took out a silver capsule. This was not going to waste.

There was a ruffling of clothes behind his back, followed by a loud clatter. He turned around, fuming at the two goons.

They had managed to drop the crate. The silver and gold coins were now flowing freely from the crack in the crate.

"всего одна работа!" He screeched at them and had almost cast his own personal cruciatus at them. Then managed to calm down. There was no time for theatrics. He opened his black eyes, and they were still staring at him. Dolohov was furious now,
"положите его обратно, ублюдки!" they nodded meekly and started putting handfuls of coins back into the crate. Dolohov shook his head and turned back towards the entrance, anytime now.

To his utter delight, he saw as two black trucks rolled down the gravel path. The scrawny-looking boy walked up and guided them in, as Dolohov took another swig of his flask.

The trucks stopped and Dolohov walked up as the gate of the first truck opened up. A large blonde wizard jumped down and looked at Dolohov.

"Antonin, my friend!" He said as they hugged each other.

"How was the journey, Walter?" Dolohov asked,

"Oh, it was splendid." Walter said, "But there was one problem," Walter signalled one of his men.

"What is it?" He asked curiously,

"You will see," Walter said, rather angrily. The two men that went behind the truck returned with a man with hands and legs tied and face covered in a black cloth. The man shoved him and the captive landed on his knees.

"What the fuck is this?" Dolohov asked them, angrily. Walter's scowl deepened,

"You are asking me, you sent this fucker to the docks to take us down so that you could take the dust for yourself! I didn't expect this from you." Walter growled, shifted and pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Dolohov. Dolohov backed away and pulled out his wand at Walter. Walter's men quickly complied and pointed their wands at Dolohov and as if on a cue, Dolohov's men pointed their wands at the two Americans, who instead pointed their wands at them.

"What are you playing at Walter?" Dolohov asked him,

"What I am playing at? I should be the one asking that!" He growled in return. They kept their wands at each other's throats for some time, eyes locked, silence. The silence was pierced by a chuckle, a chuckle Dolohov knew too well. Dolohov was shocked and some part of him, that he would never admit of having, was cowering.

He turned around slowly in trepidation and looked for the source of the chuckle, then turned back at Walter, taking his wand down.

"T-take that mask off," He almost whispered and the man laughed louder.

"What are you on about?" Walter asked, looking between both of them.

"He asked you to take this ridiculous cloth off my head, John." The man answered,

"'J-just do it!" Dolohov said exasperated, Walter flicked his chin on to one of his men, who walked around the man. He pulled it off and Draco shook his head out of clothes. Blood covering his white beard and hair explained why Walter's men were in such bad shape. Seeing Dolohov's reaction, he smirked.

"доброе утро, Antonin." He greeted him. Dolohov groaned, and whipped his wand at him, Draco knitted his eyebrows in mock confusion, "What? not happy to see your dead buddies' son?" He drawled. Dolohov grunted again and whipped his wand,

"Crucio!" The white light hit him squarely in the chest, but Draco merely looked amused. "H-how could you?!" Dolohov asked, even more terrified. Draco smirked again.

"I have had it so far worse, Antonin, believe me, It doesn't even register now." He said in a bored voice and for too much more of his horror, Draco stood up, his shackles falling behind him.

"Do something, all of you!" Dolohov shouted and there were several flashes and blasts of light.

Draco ducked backwards, as a green bolt rushed from above his face, stood up, tilted his head as a white light rushed past his neck. And then came face to face with a red bolt of lightning, which stopped in front of his face. He flicked his pupils and it went back through the strands of the wood of the wand and hit the owner on his chest. He fell. Before they could all settle down from their little wand play, Draco conjured a black dagger in his right hand.

"My turn." He said and with loud electrical clangs, the lights went off across the warehouse.

"Lumos!" Dolohov whipped his wand desperately in search of light but nothing happened. Draco had disrupted the magic in the parameter.

"Shit, can anyone see anything?" He heard Walter. There was no answer.

"What? no-aaghhhhhhhh!" The first scream was followed by a slash and a thud.

"He is-ghluk" another slash and he knew Walter's throat was cut next. He swallowed the gulp in his throat and kept moving around, his wand wrapped tightly in his trembling hand. His head whipping around by the sounds he could catch in the dark and there were lots of them. All around him, he could hear screams, accompanied and followed by shifting of feet, slashes of knives, and loud thuds of bodies hitting the ground. His mind was reeling over as in the midsts of flashes of non-effective spells and sounds, he could make out the outline of a person with white-blonde hair and a black leather jacket taking down his men. And then all of it stopped, they were all dead. The only sounds that remained were of his own breathing and heightened heartbeat. He should have anticipated this. Lupin was after him for a long time. And she had the best Aurors.

"Show yourself! Never thought a Malfoy to be coward enough to kill in the dark." He said and made a mistake. He realized it when the lights turned back on and he looked around, there was nothing but death. His men were lying in piles. Blood soaking their clothes, pooling on the ground. Fear rushed through his veins once again and he tried to swallow it in. He stood and looked around in his periphery. Draco wasn't anywhere in his vision.

He then felt someone take a breath behind him. His eyes widened in fear and realization. He had called him Malfoy. Before Dolohov could turn around, a sharp kick on his back sent him straight into the pile of bodies. He tried to stand up but Draco was faster, he grabbed his collar and sent him flying into another container. Dolohov looked up at him, there was blood on his face, hair, running through his trimmed beard, clothes, hands. And he was angry, very angry. The last time he had seen him this angry was thirteen years ago when he had cursed Potter's mudblood at the ministry. But before he could straighten himself up, Draco had moved at an inhuman pace and was now standing over him. Before Dolohov could make anything intelligible, Draco's bloodied fist connected with his face, and with an audible crack, his jaw broke.

"He disowned me before he died! I fucking killed Lucius Malfoy!" Draco screamed and threw him sideways once again. Draco came at him again, he grabbed his fur collar and pushed him against the wall. His grey blood-shot eyes inducing fear into Dolohov's, as he leered.

"I could kill you too, you know? you killed the only man who called me son," Draco said, punched his already broken jaw again,

"But I made a promise to his wife." Instead of retaliating, Dolohov gave a crooked smile from his bloodied lips and teeth.

"What are you smiling about?!" Draco asked angrily. The death-eater smiled wider. His jaw moved. Draco heard something break in his mouth. Dolohov's pupils rolled up and Draco's eyes widened in recognition.

"You are not dying like this, you coward!" He said and forced his own gloved hand down Dolohov's throat, applying enough pressure on his sphincter to stop him from swallowing the poison. "Spit it out!" He said, desperately trying to stop it. But nothing happened. He kept struggling until white foam erupted from Dolohov's throat. Draco hastily removed his hand from Dolohov's mouth.

Draco groaned and threw the body away with disgust."Pathetic." He sneered. He threw away his soiled gloves.

Draco took out his cigarette and rolled it in his fingers when it lit up. He placed it in his mouth and took a long drag. He sighed in odd relief as the smoke burned down his lungs. Nothing affected him anymore. Another day at the job. No great loss. Dolohov was about to be sentenced to death anyway. No answers are needed. His eyes widened. No answers? He walked up to the truck and threw its rear gates open.

There were about eighty wooden crates, smelling of dust. He pulled the one that was nearest and opened it. He covered it again. Definitely dust. He had a suspicion about it when he had surrendered himself to Walter. A small American smuggler. He wasn't so sure about what they were smuggling. Scratching his beard, he looked over at Dolohov's body. But he knew that Dolohov had a taste in the dust. But what would he do with a couple of hundred crates of it? He took another drag of his cigarette. If Dolohov was dealing in the dust before this, Draco could have known.

He then looked at the crate of gold which was lying innocently in the middle of the bodies. Dolohov was not distributing drugs and certainly was not about to use 1000 tonnes of it on himself. He took a few steps back and pointed his wand at the crates.

"Incen-"

"We will take care of that, Officer Black, thank you." Draco hated that voice along with the man that came with it. But he still lowered his wand and turned back to face McLaggen.

"I don't remember calling for a backup," Draco said as several other Aurors popped into appearance and began checking the warehouse and the bodies.

"But we thought you might need it, considering who you were dealing with," McLaggen said as he looked at Dolohov's body and the other dead bodies. He visibly gulped, "But you took care of it alright, I see. And why won't you, I mean you are the Draco Black, you can just disrupt magic, throw things around wandlessly, almost Jedi-like, wait, do you know who Jedi are, they are these-"

"What do you want?" Draco asked, muscles of his cheek twitching, irritated by his rambling. McLaggen's smile faltered a bit.

"You are needed in London." He said.

"I am always needed in London, what's new?" He asked.

"The muggle prime minister was killed," McLaggen said and Draco rose his eyebrows.

"Can't Potter take care of it? I already have a case."

"This case is already completed, with Dolohov's death and-"

"He never faced a trial," He picked up the dust that was leaking out of the crates and ran his thumb through it."Besides I still have to know what is going on with this."

"This case has been passed on to me." Draco scowled.

"Whose protocol is this?" He asked curtly.

"Your cousin's." McLaggen said, "Its the duty of the first-executive-auror to navigate-"

"-Through the cases with mage assault on non-mage administration. I know. I wasn't the one who failed the academy." Draco gritted out, dropped the dust, and crushed his cigarette on the floor of the truck. He walked out of the warehouse, leaving a fuming Mclaggen behind him. He twisted on his feet and disappeared.

Five minutes ago,
10, Downing Street, London, UK

When they walked out, the press was already circling outside the house. The cops were trying to answer them while trying to keep them out of the barricades. He noticed SIS and military individuals. It had started raining heavily now. With occasional bolts of lightning. He could smell lilacs in the damp air.

"I have sent McLaggen to retrieve Draco. If I know him, he would have already taken down Dolohov." Tonks said. Harry nodded.

"How will they handle this?" Harry asked, gesturing towards the fat police officer trying to answer the lady from BBC.

"That's not our problem." Nymphadora shrugged. He nodded again.

"There's a storm coming," he said, looking at the sky. The grey clouds hovered over in the sky as another flash of lightning struck with a crack.

"Well Prophet was right for once," Harry nodded for the third time.

"I am just hoping it's not a long one." He sighed. He checked his watch and turned to Tonks. She had lit a cigarette. Before she could keep it in her mouth, Harry took it and then crushed it.

"Really mate?" She asked and Harry just glared at her.

"Well, you know I can't give it up in a day." She said. Harry just shook his head at her.

"Gin is making pancakes, wanna join?" He asked.

"I have to get Teddy ready for School." She smiled apologetically. Harry waved her off. He checked his watch again.

"I have to drop Ginny off at her practice. I will see you at work." He smiled again and disapparated. She lit up another cigarette and followed the suit.