by: Branw3n
Chapter One
"Oi, Mark, I'm almost done here, how're the security cams?"
"Fine, Tad," the burly security technician called back to the tall and lanky Head of building operations.
The Head of Securities had called both men into the Security Room to fix the various cables and wires that aided in the smooth functioning of the building safety and for the protection of the highly elite guests that frequent the structure.
"Looks like someone messed the cameras real good, though," Mark added as an afterthought, for he, not unlike all of the maintenance personnel of the Ministry of Magic building, knew that no one would be tedious enough to tamper with the building's technology nor magic.
"Isn't possible," Tad dismissed the idea with a wave of a hand casting it off as a capricious thought.
"I know it isn't," Mark replied, a bit cantankerously, insulted. "But there are some, mind you, some signs that say that the computers've been tampered with."
"Look, just get us back on line with them, there're some Wizards in the lift and they're a bit unsettled by being stuck there for fifteen minutes. Claustrophobic, I reckon, much like my dad and most wizards here."
Mark nodded, not quite paying that much attention to his co-worker when he went off babbling about who in the hell knows what. He typed in some commands and started checking the wires. They said it was a blackout, but those were quite rare nowadays and it seemed a bit too suspicious to him. Theirs was the only building that got it.
They'd already checked the fuse box and its wards and found no sign of tampering and quickly set everything back in order, their only problem was getting the security cameras back on.
He had a foreboding feeling that someone especially didn't want them to see something.
"Done."
"Alright, check all rooms in the building," Tad said authoritatively.
Mark transcribed some more commands on the keyboard, viewing rooms on the enormous screens eight at a time.
A few minutes passed. "All floors check out okay."
"Try the elevators," Tad commanded.
He nodded. He continued to tap in orders into the computer, attempting to bring up shots of the twelve or so elevators in the building. Attempting and failing, managing to bring up only about seven images onto the monitor.
"Dammit," he muttered under his breath.
Tad patted him on the shoulder. "Guess we'll have to check those last five ourselves.
Mark grunted his irritation but stood to follow his supervisor.
* * *
"Here you go, Prongs."
He grinned up at his friend thankfully, accepting the offered bottle of Butterbeer. His gaze followed his friend's gait as the taller man plopped down onto one of the regulation wheeled chairs and put his feet up on the polished oak table, knocking over the can of soda he had earlier placed on the CPU which would have caused a catastrophe had his friend not instinctively caught the aluminum cylinder before its contents spilled onto the computer console.
He grinned. "I always thought you went into the wrong profession, James."
James shook his head, his unruly hair falling into his bespectacled brown eyes. "Maybe," he chuckled. "But I wanted to 'make something out of myself'."
They snorted concurrently, the thought of their mothers' expectations of them. It brought a wistful smile to both their faces.
"It isn't too late to consider other career options," he tempted, smiling impishly.
The former Hogwarts Head Boy rubbed at his forehead. "Even then, I wouldn't give this particular job up for anything. It's much too exciting," he added the last part sarcastically, causing his partner to chuckle.
There hadn't been much for both Aurors to do the past few weeks. All of which consisted of them mindlessly sitting before their consoles, staring into them in a zombie-like state, bored out of their wits so far that even Sirius' usual antics couldn't cheer them up.
"Well, then, you'll be quite happy with this new piece of information," a voice from behind them called as a newspaper article was tossed onto the table before them.
"What's that s'posed to mean, Remy?" Sirius grunted as he took another swig of Butterbeer, turning in his seat so that his dark blue eyes could focus on the new individual's own gray orbs.
"Read the headline and you might just understand the situation."
"Don't be pert, Moony," Sirius made a face. "It suits me all to well than you."
James, who had immediately scanned through the paper, turned his attention to Remus. "What happened? Sheridan's been murdered then?"
Remus nodded gravely.
Sirius' eyes widened, surprised that someone would have the audacity to even think about murdering the powerful Assistant Minister of Magic. He was one of the most influential Wizards in their World, some say he was even more omnipotent than Britain's current Minister, Bartemius Crouch, Sr. He could comprehend with James' trail of thought, Sheridan was as healthy as a newborn Chimaera and just as bloodthirsty. He had been suspected of ordering the deaths of numerous Wizards who might have served as a threat to his goal.
"Do they know the means of death?" he inquired, brows furrowing as his eyes quickly scanned over the exposition.
Remus grunted, disdain certainly evident on his pallid face. "His bodyguards were shot in the head, died quickly, though. But Sheridan, on the other hand…well, he had seen the assassin, his position, cowering against the doors, made his fear apparent."
"So, someone really had it in for Sheridan, then," Sirius voiced, his disgust for the man perceptible as he shook his head, sneering at the article James had quickly leafed through.
"It says that the bodies were found just this morning," James frowned. "News does travel quickly, now doesn't it?"
Remus gave a snort of surfeit, something he rarely did. "Read the byline, then."
They complied and rolled their eyes in unison. "Rita Skeeter."
"I swear," Sirius growled. "That woman is everywhere."
"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," James scoffed, then looked up at Remus questioningly. "Or is there?"
"They haven't moved the bodies yet. Moody asked me to come get you both. He's been there for hours now, practically livid."
* * * * *
"Where have you two been?" Alastor Moody barked as he spied the three young men Apparate before him.
All three took in his disheveled appearance. His hands were gloved, yet the disposable polymerized substance seemed to be so overtly covered with blood, one could not tell what their original color might have been. Flecks of the same substance were splattered around his face, hair and shoes.
"What are all of you three standing around there like idiots for? We're not paying you to look pretty! Procure some gloves and follow me."
They nodded and their eyes immediately caught a metal table where fresh sterilized gloves had been neatly arranged side by side. They quickly put them on and briskly trailed after their Commanding Officer as he headed towards the building's main lobby.
Turning the corner, all three of them were hit with a sudden sense of nausea as the strong coppery tang of blood reached their nostrils but years of training and field experience had nearly disabled that reflexive mechanism. They were faced with the sight of death nearly every single day of their lives, what with Voldemort's terrorist methods and political corruption.
Steeling themselves for the impending prospect that lied ahead of them, they were not shocked to see that Rita Skeeter's report had indeed been true. Two corpses lay beside each other, face turned sideways enough that all three men could witness the gaping fatal wounds at their brow.
But that sight was nothing compared to what the killer did to his real target. Sheridan's carrion lay, as Remus had reported earlier on, near the elevator doors, hands which might have been held up in defence now lay useless at his sides. An incredibly wide gaping cut where his heart might have been. An odd looking blade protruded from the exact same area.
Sirius made a disgusted noise, glaring at the goriness of the situation. James sympathized with him, his Animagus form seemed to have endowed his human self with remnants of its abilities. The same principle adhered with both him and Remus.
"Any leads?" his clear voice belied his revulsion.
He heard Alastor Moody's uneven and awkward footfalls approached from behind. "Diggory's checking with Security."
Remus took a step towards Sheridan's corpse when Sirius' hand shot out to restrain him. "I think it would be best if we don't obstruct the scene of the crime, for the photographers, you know."
Hoary and sparkling blue eyes settled casually over Moody. "Black's right, for once. Our squad's been here for hours, if only I could say the same for the both of you, but the Unspeakables haven't been here yet and you do know how they get when they find us meddling in political situations."
Moody spat out the words as if they left a bitter taste in his mouth and a thorn in his side. Aurors and Unspeakables might have been forced to work on cases together but that did not make the two groups friends. Unspeakables thought themselves high and aloof, above everyone else. Those were where the rich wizards and witches sought employment.
James and Sirius chose to be Aurors, though they were offered positions as Unspeakables due to their families' positions in Wizarding society. They didn't want to have to sit back and observe situations from offices and busy themselves with numerous litigations. They had truly wanted hands-on fluency.
Moody took in the place one last time before ushering them out, just in time to vacate the premises while they had the chance for boisterous crime scene photographers pushed their way through the metal doors.
"Lupin, Black, I want both of you to interrogate the two Security Men who found the bodies. Potter, hallway to your left a flight down, meet up with Diggory and see what's keeping him. Take the Security tapes back to headquarters after you examine them."
All three nodded, hurrying off to accomplish their assigned tasks. James couldn't help but feel amused at Moody's distrust for copies. A bad case once, with tampered material that nearly cost him his life but instead he escaped with only his eye defunct.
He made his way down the hall then the stairs, his paces even with a learned languidity that he didn't feel nor thought about anymore. He had been taught in such a way. Forced calmness that his socialite parents had insisted etiquette teachers instill in him. He knew he was much luckier than most of his peers, his family being a prominent one with about three vaults in every Gringotts establishment in the world.
Though that family was gone now, as with Sirius'. Blood didn't matter if you were against Voldemort. It surprised both of them to hear that their parents were Unspeakables, covert operations specialists. Their reaction at that fact had nearly suppressed their shock at the news of their parents' deaths. James' parents had rarely been home throughout his childhood, the relevant periods in his life. All his essential achievements as a young child had been adulated by his nanny and his meals had been meticulously prepared by house-elves.
Whenever his parents did come home, though, none of his daily rituals ever changed.
He paused before a slate gray metal door labeled 'Security' in clear block letters and tugged at the grimy lever, while removing his gloves, shuffling into the room and immediately spotting Diggory.
"Potter, glad you're here," he greeted, eyes never leaving the screen where the usual grainy black and white footage played across the miniature television in slow motion.
"How long before the murder?"
"Been here for nearly ten minutes, should be about. Didn't want to breeze through the rest of it in case I miss something."
"Anything out of the ordinary, then?"
Diggory shook his head. "Nothing."
James wandered over to his side and trained his eyes over the video. A few more minutes passed and as he was preparing to give up, he finally caught a glimpse of Sheridan, escorted by two burly men and oddly enough a petite woman. All three were dressed in black.
"Skeeter's article didn't mention her," he muttered to Amos, then turned to regard the Security personnel who sat before them. "Did she come out untouched or murdered like the rest of them?"
Relatives and family of the slaughtered could sometimes request for privacy but with Skeeter writing the article, that just wasn't possible.
"I worked with the blokes who found the bodies. There were three of them, all male," he responded, shifting nervously in his seat. Aurors tend to make most Wizards uncomfortable. The man ran a hand through his cropped blond hair before continuing. "No one has seen her after the homicide. No body, nothing."
James nodded distractedly as the woman turned to consider the camera hastily that you could barely catch a glimpse of her features. The video died out into static soon after.
"What happened?" Diggory barked, eyes murderous.
"There…there was a problem. The whole building blacked out, everything went haywire before shutting down. Took hours for the techs to get everything back in working order," the employee stuttered, blue eyes shifting over their faces nervously.
James could feel the man's accusing gaze and spoke. "We need that tape, no. The original," he added as he spied the man reach for an unlabelled white cardboard box beneath the console.
His mouth began to open in protest before James' steely glare silenced him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Diggory run a frustrated hand through his hair, growling to himself.
"Just three of them or was there more?"
Diggory shook his head. "Just the three of them, Moody suspects it was a hired assassination. We couldn't find Sheridan's head anywhere."
"Trophy prize?"
"Most likely."
James nodded in contemplation then turned to the employee who handed Diggory the tape. "What about the men who were supposed to be working in here during the time of the murder? Where are they?"
The man frowned. "Me and the boys think that whoever was to be here took their break early. Nobody takes this assignment seriously. We couldn't find them, though, when you Aurors requested for them. Doubtless that they're hiding somewhere out of the building, cowering."
James didn't appear to have been listening, though as he paced around the perimeter of the room. "What's in here, then?" he asked, tapping his fingers on the wood paneling.
"Broom closet."
He turned to Amos, who was hunched over a console, reviewing the tape once again. "Anybody else been in here other than you?"
Diggory shook his head, dark blonde hair flying into his eyes, knowing that Potter meant other Aurors. "Just been me and Travis here," he tilted his head in the security personnel's general direction.
"Checked the premises yet?"
Another imperceptible shake of the head.
James nodded, more to himself than to Diggory, composing himself as he removed his wand from the latch on his belt. He jiggled the knob, finding it locked. He felt Diggory approach from behind him. He took a step backwards and raised his foot, kicking the door in.
No need to warn whoever might have been lurking in there of his presence through a yelled spell. He pointed his wand in the darkened room, eyes training themselves to the gloom as he stepped into the miniscule room. Shuffling feet from behind indicated Diggory's following suit.
Once he was assured that nothing in the room was mobile he quickly muttered, "Lumos." His wand ignited in an instant, as was expected. He snarled as he glimpsed of the two corpses lying on the ground, blood oozing from their cracked skulls.
Diggory swore, turning the bodies over to obtain a glance of the men. He read their tags out loud. "Merlin! They're those personnel Travis' been talking about."
James, on the other hand, walked towards a sleek black device, aware of the muted repetitive sounds emanating off of it. He put on the polymer gloves, opening the laptop computer, eyes widening at the electronic beeps of numbers ticking down on the screen. His eyes trailed over to a piece of wire attached to the console and onto a clumsy square box with a bright red face-plate, whose numbers were in synch with the countdown on the computer.
"Diggory, get out of here!" he yelled, sweat trickling down his temples and onto his neck. Eight seconds, not enough time to cast the complicated time-stop spell nor dismantle the box and cut the wires. He turned to Amos, who stood frozen in place, bearing a perplexed appearance.
He took Diggory by the scruff of his robe and shoved him into the main room none-too-gently and grabbed Travis' arm and shoved them both out of the room, all the while mentally keeping track of the amount of time they had before the bomb set off.
It wasn't powerful enough to destroy the entire building, it's minute size was evidence to that fact, it would execute a secondary type blast, just powerful enough to demolish the Security Room.
He was right.
He and Diggory covered Travis, Auror training taking over in this emergency situation. The back draft, though, was strong enough to throw all three of them to the ground, their heads nearly scraping the adjacent wall.
James, who was closest to the Security Room, his tall frame nearly completely shielding both his companions, was the one who was on the receiving end of the blast. He lay on the marble ground, unconscious, amidst thunderous screams, oblivious by the chaos that surrounded him.
* * * * *
Moira O'Monaghan approached the glass encased office, plastering a sympathetic smile on her tanned features while still retaining her business-like attitude. She consciously tugged at her sun-streaked blonde hair, which was in its usual bun and adjusting the glasses perched on her nose, obscuring clear blue eyes before rapping on the door and pushing it open.
The sight that greeted her was utter bedlam, expertly concealed by blinding mauve blinders and the auburn head bent over a laptop computer, Wizco's latest model.
"Just about Moira," Atlanta Fairstrider called from behind the sleek gray screen, gray eyes still focused on the console, slim fingers expertly tapping a masterpiece on the keyboard.
"Five minutes, Lan," she reminded, her voice teasing yet serious all at once. She made to leave the disorganized workplace but Atlanta's voice halted her.
"Moi, that lad you've been seeing, who is he?"
She froze, turning around to re-address the writer. "Why? You've a crush on him?"
"Who wouldn't?" Fairstrider's posh socialite voice rang. "He's absolutely yummy."
"That's disgusting," Moira snorted, her brogue a manifesting in her words.
"Ah, so you aren't shagging him, then. Mind if I do?"
"Blow yer mind out, then," she called back sarcastically, preparing to leave once more, her voice once more the bred British accent she had conceal her ancestry. "Just don't let it interfere with your work. Witch Weekly readers would absolutely strangle this publication if we forego producing your articles."
Atlanta's tittering laugh followed her out before she firmly shut the door behind her.
God, she hated that woman, being her editor didn't help make getting to know her a less arduous task.
Moira proceeded to do her normal rounds, which she often conducted right before the writers' deadlines. She herself frequently contributed her opinions to the magazine's criticism page but she was intelligent enough to start her work right away, when their normal mail-in reviewers were a no-show.
Approaching one of their regular gossip columnists, she was halted by her ringing phone. She searched for her cell phone in her jacket pocket before processing the ring tone, it was the other line, the private secure one and only three other people knew about its existence.
She reached out behind her, fishing the model out of the band of her skirt, speedily punching on the green button. "O'Monaghan," she answered clearly.
"They've found the bomb."
Her face was an indifferent mask. She shut the phone, knowing the voice on the other line had hung up as well. The conversations that were conducted on this line were curt and frank.
So, the Aurors had finally found the bodies, they'd suspect foul play but have no suspects. They wouldn't perceive the true target until the next hit, and it was to be soon.
Resuming her route, a thought formed in her mind.
Let the games begin.
* * * * *
Author's Note: Thanks to all my reviewers, your comments were really great and comforting. Sorry this chapter took so long, I really don't know that much about Security Cams, timed explosives and the like, so I was a bit nervous about writing this, bordering on intimidated, really.
If you guys know anything about the above stuff, please tell it to me. I need all the help I can get. Oh, and please leave a review!