Hermione Granger would not recognize the witch in the mirror. The witch had a short pixie cut of straight blonde hair, half a dozen tattoos including three blue tears near her left eye, and a miniscule diamond stud sticking out of her left nostril. All but the stud was temporary. The stud was a gift from Ron when she had first started to think about getting body jewelry. He never fully understood the Muggle world but had given the time and effort to facilitate her enjoyment of the world.
Tonight would not be a night of enjoyment even as she met up with three other witches who were dressed similar to her. They would be going clubbing in London tonight and the loud music, blaring lights, and groping hands would be enough to drive her nuts. Tonight was a work night for the witches in mini skirts, tube tops and five inch heels. They needed to identify suppliers and once they could identify the club level pushers, the real action would start.
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Scotland Yard was bustling. Dozens of officers were receiving a final briefing. Solicitors were ready to file motions to freeze and seize accounts while capture teams would be dispatched to a dozen locations around all of England. Over the past eighteen months, a set of confidential informants had been dropping almost unimaginable evidence to the national police. Street level pushers with clear photographic and video evidence was tied to mid-level regional management. Money was being traced to bank accounts in a dozen banks including some small banks that had been around for several hundred years. Smuggling links through half a dozen ports were spotted. Each time a new packet arrived, all of the evidence checked out, and the police had been able to develop even deeper leads.
Twelve hours later, over three hundred individuals were arrested and nearly the entire synthetic drug supply chain in London, and Manchester had been massively disrupted.
Sixteen hours later, two British students who were studying in the United States walked through customs. One was a Muggle who was carrying a book her friend had asked her to stuff into her bag. The other was a witch who had been pensioned off from the Marauders after a nasty training accident. She had been studying computer science in Pittsburgh for the past three years, and now was home visiting her parents for the start of summer break before heading to Paris. She had been asked to transfigure and shrink several thousand pills to look like the filling of stuffed trolls that the customs officer oohed and ahhed about as she heard an explanation that these toys were for her newborn nephew.
The witch took the book from her friend before they entered two separate cabs from the Heathrow terminal. She headed first to a safe house where she would see George Weasley and hand off the book and the seemingly harmless stuffed animals for whatever plot he had in mind. She received a hug and a wave goodbye before she apparated to her parents. The Marauders now could fill a need that they had created.