Prologue part II

1 November 1981, Chesterfield.

A body washes up on a lonely stretch of beach or a fire in a methamphetamine lab devastates an apartment building. A car accident claims the life of a driver during his trip home. All these are potential crime scenes. By conducting a systematic examination of these areas, crime scene investigators would uncover the physical evidence to identify what happened and who was involved. This process must be carefully performed and thoroughly to ensure that crucial evidence is collected, and weak evidence is not destroyed in the process.

At a scene, the case investigator and crime scene personnel work together to:

- Define and secure areas that may contain evidence.

- Examine and document the scene.

- Collect physical evidence.

- Preserve, package, and submit the evidence to the laboratory for analysis.

With these critical pieces of evidence, the investigator can attempt to reconstruct the elements of the crime. The more thorough the crime scene team is at conducting its job, the more likely it is to accurately determine the case's facts. The quality of the evidence and how it is handled will also impact the attorneys' ability to argue the facts of the case and, ultimately, the jurors' ability to come to conclusions regarding guilt or innocence. At least that was the book Patrick parsons, chief inspector of the chesterfield police force had followed for the last forty years, but nothing like what he saw during his long years among the police effective could possibly explain how Steven Blakeley died.

When he didn't show up to the VIP stadium box, where he was invited to by the mayor himself, many felt insulted or locked down by the kid who made it in the city and scolded him for forgetting about his roots, until he was found this morning at 5 am, laying on the ground with no pulse by the local supermarket delivery man.

For the most part, Chesterfield was a quiet town where nothing too wrong happened, except for the occasional brawls that broke after a tense football game like the one the city hosted the evening before. It would have explained Blakeley's death, but no signs of violence could be observed on his body, and the forensic was optimistic that the man had suffered no kind of harm in any way and, at his complete astonishment, was in perfect health. This could have been enough to close the case, but he just couldn't let it go. After all, who could blame him for being stubborn? How can a man that young die with what appears to be no reason at all?

His hand reached to the right draw of his desk, pulled a Laphroaig bottle, before getting interrupted by a young tall, dark-skinned boy wearing a constable uniform. A constable was the lowest rank in the police force, in a town like this, their only task was to watch out for the kids while playing football in a narrow street to make sure they don't overstep on the main road and help the seniors cross the street or write tickets.

Everybody at the station knew that it was a sacred rule to not disturb the inspector chief at such an early hour of the day, first because it wasn't 10 a.m. yet, second because it would force him to talk with another human being before 10 a.m. and third because he was the only one that actually had a firearm. He glared at him before speaking.

"Is there anything you need, officer?"

"Sir, sorry to bother, I have been told to report to the inspector in chief. I am to start my two years-probation period today. ¨" he said, handing him a file.

Parson didn't move and only watched suspiciously the man standing in front of him, analyzing him and his uniform, looking for any valid motive to explode at him and chase him from his office. He finally sighed and declared with a slow voice.: "I'm sorry, lad… We normally approve our recruit before receiving them, maybe you should call your supervisor…and piss off while you are at it", pouring himself a drink.

"I'm afraid I must insist sir, the procedure has been respected in all its steps; I assure you that if you could be kind to take a look at my file, you would be convinced" he replies with a kind smile.

Parson let escape a long sight, looking darkly at the young man standing straight in front of his office to express his exasperation before accepting the file from his hands, with the strong intention to fake reading its pages. Only, after a few seconds, before he got the chance to get more deeply interested in what it said; he looked back at the officer, his eyes scanning him up and down again, before asking calmly.

"What possibly could make you think I am open or have the time for a stupid prank such as this one, brat? You boy, better tell me it's for the tele and point at the cameras because in case you are not aware, it's enough to charge you? Impersonating a police officer, I mean"

"Sir?" he answered with what he interpreted as a mocking smile.

Parson smiled back, before drinking a sip from his glass and declared. " All right! The case isn't going anywhere after all, and I'm bored, to be honest. So, you are 20 years old, graduated from Eton college nothing less, titular of a master's degree in criminology and criminal justice from Oxford and just came back from a diplomatic mission in South America, where …let me read again… arrested a drug lord. Even if we are absolutely not concerned by that at the moment...And after that, you specially asked to be sent here to work in our station. Again, at only 20 years old. Is there anything I'm missing?"

"I am confident you'll find all the answers you seek if you turn the page of my curriculum and read it. I am sure it would enlighten you about the peculiarity of my situation." The young man said.

"Why not...I would love to know more" Parson said, smirking at him before laying back his eyes on the file he had between his hands, turning the page he carried on reading.

Then, as soon he started reading the first sentence on the page, just as the boy said a few seconds before, he did understand as everything now made sense to his mind. Shame had now substituted his assurance as he felt uneasy and deeply embarrassed toward the young man standing still in front of his desk, smiling kindly at him.

Patrick Parson was a man who never left his town; he joined the police force straight after high school looking for a stable job near his family and childhood friends, like all the men his age, had his lot of shit from life, but nothing he had experienced even dare compare to what this boy went through. The police chief continued reading, his eyes were as if mesmerized by the lines that curiously seemed written in black ink and not with a pen. His mind started progressively cleared as if he had no more memories of his own life, and at some point, he even forgot what he was reading, then the where he even was at the moment. Then, heard a voice calling from very far, a voice to with he didn't want to listen, all that mattered at the moment was to keep reading frenetically, even if he now couldn't discern the words neither he could distinguish one letter from another. The voice grew louder, drumming in his brain. He blinked and he suddenly where he was sitting as to whom he was talking and looked dumbly at the young man whose mouth was slowly moving, articulating words that slowly reached his ears.

"Sir, sorry to bother again…I was entrusted with the task of informing you that the supermarket where the victim was found this morning, has a new system of surveillance, they call it "CCTV cameras," and the owner seems to be quite that he has valuable information on the case, according to his secretary. As to myself, the words I heard him yelling at her on the telephone were" Tell him to drag his fat bottom here right now!"

Parson stood up and an instant after he was already standing at his office door, quite an athletic performance for a man of his age constantly warned about his diet consisting in drinking more Whiskey than water and more pies than any other solid food… He nodded at the kid who was watching with a half amused-surprised look before barking at him with what his two sons called his bulldog voice:

"Yeah, I know fitness… Are you going to stay there like an idiot or follow me?"

"Yes, sir!"

Driving along Chesterfields' main avenue, they both stayed silent. Parson ignored how to apologize to the kid for the way he treated him earlier in his office, he has never been good with words except for scolding his men. Instead, as the words didn't come up, he only kept discreetly peaking a look at him from the corner of his eye, and couldn't but notice his passenger interest in the radio and the music that was coming from the speakers on the dashboard. The young man's head slowly moved at the rhythm of the song that the radio station was playing at the moment, which made Parson smile, how couldn't he like that song, the Beatles were a treasure all brits cherished, one of the few things he agreed with his sons about.

After only ten minutes on the road, they arrived at their destination and head directly to the manager's office, where they found the man, staring, focused at about twenty televisions screens, dangerously piled ones above the others. The manager, Elli Easton, was an old school friend of Pearson. As soon they stepped into his office, the man jumped on his feet and greeted them with a broad smile and winked at his secretary, nodding at the door. She rolled her eyes on her way out, shook briefly Parsons'hand and gave him a knowing look that made the man chuckle. Once alone, Eliot stared Parson straight in his eyes before bowing before him, and declaring, using a theatrical voice tone:

"Greetings! Good morning to you supreme commander Patty, Lord of the police station! The man who made alcoholism alcoholic! The grand..."

"Shut it Elli!" Parson barked at the man who stopped bowing, smirking at him.

" I guess you lads are here for the vomit on ale 5? It's the second time this week, what are our policemen are doing? It pains me to see how this town has changed, how much I don't recognize it anymore! Where are our taxes going? I don't know what stops me from writing to Scotland yard to complain! I remember when the old Jim was in charge, you know the one who was doing a far better job than you..."

"I warn you Elli, today is not the day, and by the way, do you realize a dead man was found in your parking lot?"

"Well, it's not my fault! Do you think that's the kind of stuff I want to see coming here? Especially after yesterday? You know Anabel and I went to try that new spa..."

"YOUR GUYS CALLED ABOUT A VIDEOTAPE" shouted at him Pearson again, "p-l-a-y i-t- t-o m-e n-o-w," he insisting on each letter.

"Ok, ok, calm down. I was just joking…Jesus…you've been like this since we're kids, I wonder how your wife bares with you... You forgot your drink this morning, right?" Elli asked looking at Parson.

"I didn't forget my gun," answered Parson.

"I won't be surprised if you slept with it under your pillow knowing how much every soul hates your guts in this town…. Ok, sit down, folks, movie time! Ok, the manual says that I just have to press play and voila!"

The scene played on the screens could have been taken from a low budget sci-fi movie not would notice. Its duration didn't go further than half a minute. At the beginning of the black and white video, a man they could easily identify as the victim walked on the parking lot and stopped in front of a motorbike, then a rat appeared running on the asphalt then, their eyes opened wide as the animal shape changed, grew until the rat morphed into a man. The victim turned back, then followed a brief moment in which nothing happened until one of the tho men raised quickly his arm and the image blurred. When the image came back, Steven Blakeley was lying on the parking lot next to the motorbike, with no sign of the other man.

"What was that, Elli? Did you touch something? You know you have to keep everything at the same place?"

"Patti! I swear to god, this is the first time I watch this tape, the three of us are the first! And, I just figured how to make the device work when you guys showed up!"

"So, the other just disappeared? By magic?"

"Yes, just like magic, "said a deep voice behind Elli and Parson.

A voice that made Parson and Elli startle and turn back. Parson had completely forgotten the presence of the young man who had accompanied him to the store. He was standing near the door, aiming at them with a stick.

"Er… What are you doing kid…Er…Your name is Kingsley, right? Parson asked, his voice shaking, while Elli tried to take cover behind him.

"Don't be afraid, gentleman, everything is fine…OBLIVIATE!"

1 November 1981, Chesterfield:

Kingsley Schaklebolt step outside the supermarket, he looked around himself before heading toward the parking lot where the murder took place; it was his first assignment as a trainee Auror, or better said, one of the tests he had to go through if he wanted to get in the Auror office. A career he chose to follow this hoping he could help stop the war, to fight among the other good men and women so his world doesn't fade to darkness and violence. Becoming an Auror had never been his dream or goal at all, only back when he was still was attending Hogwarts, under the protection of Albus Dumbledore in person, a time of innocence, while they could close their eyes at night out of reach of the blood bath occurring outside the castle. They could dream during their sleep before confronting reality again at breakfast when they received their daily prophet copy.

He will always remember the day he took the irrevocable decision to pursue this career. It was during Easter break, when he chose to stay at school, to focus on NEWTs when professor McGonagall came to seek him in the library and took him to the headmaster's office. Once there he heard about the death of Eloise Vane, the day before near her family home, Dumbledore told him, while the professor McGonagall rested a hand on his shoulder. The death eaters had their way with her, tortured her before burning her alive in front of her father, made him watch what happens to the ministry employees who tried to be heroes before murdering him after. They Left the dark mark floating in the night to her brother and mother to find.

After that day, his mind was made, and nothing was going to stop him from joining the fight under the Aurors banner. He had lost the girl he loved, but he could give what he had still left so others won't experience the same pain, so they could build what he couldn't and have the future that Lord Voldemort and his followers brutally took from him. But first, he must show the Auror office how much he deserved to be one of them.

It was extremely rare that Aurors get involved with non-wizard crimes except if the dark mark was cast or there was a high suspicion that a wizard was involved. Kingsley didn't expect to be sent to Chesterfield that day, even less to investigate a murder. Only as he didn't manage to close his eyes that night; he decided to leave his bed early before even sunrise, to head straight to the ministry of magic where he was anyway scheduled to start his shift a couple of hours later. He left his flat walking, paced a few blocks before apparating not far from the visitor entrance; that due to the war, everyone who wasn't already an official employee of the ministry and wishes to access the ministry had to take.

Once at the atrium of the ministry, he didn't get the time to take a look around him and find the reason why everyone was running everywhere or ask why someone had put a clown wig on the statues on the fountain when Alastor Moody rushed toward him like a bull, stuck a file on his chest and told him quickly:

"Murder, Chesterfield, Police, Parson GO! NOW!"

And there he was, working on a case with an empty stomach…He stopped at the corner, carefully leaned against the wall to spot where the cameras were fixed. Once he spotted them, he took his wand and deactivated them before stepping into the area where the crime was committed. A simple 'revelio' followed by a 'prior incantato' on the area proved to him the use of the killing curse was cast there, as the magic didn't completely fade. However, he had many questions, was a death eater related to the crime? If it was the case, why did no one cast the dark mark? And why did kill a muggle and bail directly after if normally they do it for fun and make sure they have an audience to terrify?

The murderer was an Animagus; the tape shows him approaching the victim from the back, looking at the victim a while before casting the spell, did they know each other?

He took another look around him, made sure he didn't miss anything, then went back to the ministry.

As soon as he stepped foot at the atrium, he got welcomed by a hurricane of cheers, a dense crowd of people hugging each other's, a piece of music so loud his ears buzzed. Every time he reached to someone to inquire about what was happening, someone wrapped firmly his/her arms around him, crying and mumbling words the noise of the celebrations didn't let his ears hear. Older Aurors smiled at him, patted roughly his back, men and women he swears could have melted him with a glance the day before, around him wizard and witches were celebrating. He finally made it to the department of magical law enforcement, then to the Auror office, where he found Alastor Moody, sitting alone in his office, a glass of scotch in his hand.

" Sir, everyone is celebrating!"

"Of course, they are Schaklebolt! Why aren't you? The war is over! Last night, the one-who-must-not-be-named, or netter said the one-who-got-screwed-badly-last-night, went to Godric's Hollow and got destroyed," Moody said.

"He...He's gone?" Kingsley asked quietly.

"Apparently..." Moody said. "Sit down, you're making me nervous," Moody ordered.

Kingsley put a trembling hand on one of the armchairs near the desk and sat.

"Where the hell have you been this morning?" Moody asked, glancing severely at him.

"Chesterfield, sir, you sent me yourself two hours ago, remember? The muggle murdered…"

"Oh, yes, drop it, we know who did it…"

"So…What happened exactly? with you know who." Kingsley timidly asked.

"Long story short, last night the dark lord went to Godric's Hollow to kill James and lily Potter as well as their baby boy Harry." He paused and sight; Alastor moody knew that Kingsley was friendly with the potters at school. "I am sorry, Kingsley, he killed both James and Lily. But apparently, he couldn't kill the boy. When he tried to kill Harry, it somehow backfired at him and killed him instead. Now he is known in the entire world as the boy-who-lived."

The news hit Kingsley, he stared dumbly at Moody. He knew it was the truth, it couldn't be otherwise, as Alastor Moody didn't know what a joke was or what having fun was. It what the man said was true; the Aurors and the brightest minds of the country planned and debated for years about how to stop the dark wizard; and for a decade they all miserably failed, they couldn't even get a lead about where he was hiding. Some even start to doubt he ever existed, some just drop trying, considered useless to resist and joined his ranks instead of fighting a fight they considered lost in advance. And there, his fall came from a baby, an innocent baby who couldn't even hold a wand. It didn't make any sense to his ears, but at the same time, it did; what if innocence, the absence of corruption, was the light that could dissipate the darkness? That was a question he now will have enough time to think about. He accepted the drink that Moody was handing him, smiled back at him, and raised it

" To James, Lily and Harry Potter!"

"To the potters!"

Kingsley stood up, nodded toward Moody, and head towards the door office to leave before remembering.

"Sir, you said you already found who killed that muggle, who did it?

"Sirius Black, it's going to make the news anyway, Fudge just came back…That idiot can't shut up, he went straight to talk to the press…"

Kingsley couldn't believe it, "Sirius Black, sir? Are you sure? I knew him from school, and I find it hard to believe"

"Same goes for everyone, kid…Same… But Black got arrested this morning just after blasting away Peter Pettigrew, and the entire street behind him, killing twelve muggles… Dumbledore confirmed that he was informing the dark lord for the last two years and the one who gave the location of where the Potters were hiding." Said sternly moody, "It's only a matter of time before it becomes a real shit storm around this office, so you should keep off!"

"….Yes sir…Thank you, Sir…" said Kingsley before leaving Moody's office. He went straight to one of the small boxes located in the office he had to share with six other trainees where he sat down on his chair, looking at the sealing his hand behind his head, trying to copy the news he just received. Kingsley remembered Sirius Black from his years at Hogwarts; the guy was the last person Kingsley would have imagined as a death eater. Always fighting and hexing his cousins from Slytherin, they didn't stay in contact after they graduated from school, so a lot could have changed since. Well...He did learn to transform into a rat, who knows for sure how many other moves he's got in his playbook?

He couldn't stop thinking about James, Lily, and Harry… Who was going to take care of him now? He knew the kid he had no grandparents anymore. Were they going to put him in an orphanage? No, Dumbledore won't allow that; there are plenty of families who would be honoured to take the kid in their home and raise him as their own. Harry will grow up happy; he did not doubt that Dumbledore and the ministry of magic will make sure of it. Today Harry Potter became important.

But now, it was time to join the world and celebrate; he smiled and stood up from his chair. He locked the tape he brought with him in his tiny desk drawer, took his jacket, and left the office.

Hi guys, thanks for reading, please review!