Chapter Two
The Truth Is Out There
The souls that burn will twist and turn
And find you in the dark, no matter where you run
She's made her mark, but lost her star
And what she's pushing for, she can't remember
Natalie Imbruglia "Come September"
Ginny was enveloped in a cocoon of warmth, the blankets and coverlet pulled up to her chin and snuggled around her. Her pillows were just the right height and her bed-socks were still on her feet, for a change. Her hot water-bottle was cold but it had fallen off the end of the bed anyway. She sighed luxuriously and wriggled further down, deliciously comfortable. The sun was peeking around the edges of her blinds, the light dulled by the curtains. Her eyes were closed and a smile played about her lips as she drifted into and out of states of consciousness, enjoying a lucid dream involving a very good-looking Quidditch player and a bubble-bath.
The alarm went off and Ginny jerked, startled. She opened her eyes slowly and peered at the contraption. She'd never needed any sort of alarm before leaving Hogwarts; all the girls moving about the dormitory had always roused her. After Hogwarts, she'd charmed her wand to wake her – but that was only if she really, desperately needed to be up by a certain time. Usually, Ginny awoke as the sunlight stole over the land and infiltrated her bedroom. She preferred to take her time about arising in the morning. She wasn't the world's most affable person first thing, as her bunkmates had found out almost immediately. She glared at the alarm clock. It was a Muggle alarm clock, for a start. Her father had told her, quite reasonably, that if they ever had Muggle visitors, they'd probably wonder about singing, polished sticks that served as alarm clocks. So now she was stuck with a silver, metallic-looking round thing that had flashing blue numbers and could raise the dead with its squawk.
Ginny moved her arm out from under the warmth and winced briefly at the cold air in the room before slapping at the alarm clock a number of times, trying to make it be quiet. But it wouldn't desist from ringing loudly. She sat up quickly, turned to the clock and picked it up, examining it closely. Where was the 'Off' button? Or at the very least, a 'Shut the hell up' button? She turned it upside, grimacing as the ringing became louder. She squinted at the small print next to a tiny button. 'Reset'. Frowning, she pried her nail in beside it and pushed it over. To her relief, the ringing stopped. She turned the clock over and read the buttons on top of it. As far as she could make out, there was only a button marked 'Snooze', another marked 'Sleep' and the buttons to set the display. She'd have to figure it out later – if she didn't get out of that bed in the next minute or so, she'd end up being late for her first day of work at the British Division of Investigation.
"Good morning!" Susan sang out cheerfully from her place at the kitchen table, grinning at Ginny. Susan must've been up for hours, Ginny thought. She had that early-morning glow to her face that one attains when they get up early and exercise. She was also showered, dressed, had her hair done, make-up applied, the kitchen was clean, she was eating her breakfast - Ginny was willing to bet that Susan had made her bed too.
"Morning," Ginny greeted Susan, coming to a halt on the linoleum floor. "I see you're ready to face the day!"
"Sure am!" Susan agreed, taking another spoonful of cereal from her bowl. She chewed while Ginny went to the fridge and got herself a bowl of muesli. Ginny sat down at the table and poured the milk, admiring the blue and white china jug that housed it.
"Is that the Elm pattern?" she asked curiously, glancing at it a second time. "It's lovely." The Elm Patterned dinner sets were very popular among pure-blooded wizarding families a number of decades ago. To find a milk jug with the Elm pattern on it, still intact, was something of a rare treasure.
"Yeah, it belonged to my grandmother," Susan responded, glancing at the jug fondly. Ginny smiled, putting the milk back in its place and searching out a spoon. "Spoons are in the second drawer from the left," Susan reminded her.
"Oh, sure; I was the one who put them there too. One of those days, I suppose!" Ginny laughed. "Don't know that that's the best way to start off the first day of work!" She got up and found herself a spoon, beginning to eat her breakfast. "Where's Lav?"
"Bathroom." Susan finished her cereal and put the bowl on the sink, beginning to run the water. "We're not supposed to use magic to do the dishes, are we?"
Ginny looked up in amusement. "Well, they said that we weren't to use magic around Muggles or Muggle artifacts... I guess the dishes count, but I'm not going to rat on you if you Scourgify a few dishes here and there!"
Susan grinned ruefully, turning the tap off and pulling on the rubber gloves. "I may as well get used to this sooner rather than later... I won't be able to clean bedpans at the hospital with magic."
"Susan!" Ginny chided her. "I'm eating!"
Susan just laughed, washing up her bowl and the number of mugs that had appeared in the sink overnight. "Looks like Lav had a fix of hot chocolate last night."
"Nah, that was me," Ginny admitted. She took another spoonful of the muesli into her mouth.
"Ginny!" Susan mimicked Ginny's earlier shocked tone. "Couldn't be bothered washing them up?"
"Couldn't even be bothered leaving my bed," Ginny said with a laugh.
Susan put soapy hands on her hips. "You mean to say that you used magic to send your cups to the sink without even leaving your bed?"
"Yes," Ginny replied. Seeing the look on Susan's face, she laughed again. "Oh, c'mon. I'll make more of an effort next time."
"Yes," Susan replied dubiously. "I can just see the mountain of mugs I'll be coming out to every morning." She put a mug up on the sink drainer, covered in foamy suds. "Oh, by the way, the Ministry rang this morning. New housemate isn't arriving until tomorrow night."
"Fair enough," Ginny responded. "Who is it?"
"Don't know," Susan stopped washing and gazed out of the window somewhat dreamily. "I'm hoping for Prince Charming."
"You mean MacMillan doesn't do it for you anymore?" Ginny teased.
Susan blushed.
Ginny just grinned, chewing on the last morsel of muesli. She swallowed and patted her tummy appreciatively. "Muesli is so much better than porridge." She got up and offered her bowl to Susan, who took it and dunked it into the suds. "Thanks."
"No problem," Susan began scrubbing at the bowl with one of the sponges Ginny had brought. "I think the Scourgify way of doing things is a little more efficient." She pulled up her sleeve. "You off to work then?"
"Sure am!" Ginny was taking an apple out of the fruit bowl on the table. "When are we going food-shopping?"
"When the basics run out?" Susan gave a shrug, lifting her arm to rub at her nose. "Tomorrow, probably. Why does my nose always get itchy when I'm wearing gloves?"
"To... really annoy you?" Ginny suggested.
"That must be it," Susan agreed. "So are you going now?"
"Yep." Ginny headed for the door.
"In your slippers?"
Ginny stood in the elevator, squashed in the corner by four massively tall businessmen and a short brunette woman wearing a hat with "BASEBALL IS LIFE" printed across it. She was talking away at a hundred miles an hour to the man next to her in a curious accent that Ginny vaguely recognised as American. She tried to gather her courage to push past them all at her level, but fortunately the elevator stopped at the level just before hers and all four of the men got out. Now it was just Ginny and the American woman. She smiled politely and averted her eyes while the woman stared openly at her, cracking gum in her mouth.
"You from around here?" the woman asked finally, popping her gum loudly. Ginny glanced back at the woman, then down at the floor briefly before meeting the woman's gaze squarely.
"Sort of," she hedged. "From a small town a few miles away."
"Which one?" the woman pressed.
The elevator stopped. The gum continued to pop.
"Penzance," Ginny said quickly, pulling a name out of the air. She moved forward to the doors. They didn't open. She glanced at the panel in surprise. The woman was leaning against it, her thumb firmly pressed against the 'Doors Close' button. "Um..." Ginny started. "Could..."
"Penzance is a ways away," the woman said, raising her eyebrow.
"Only a couple of hours," Ginny responded. "Um, you're leaning on the door button- could I get out, please?"
"Oh," the woman replied, moving away slowly. "Sorry. Go ahead."
"Thanks." The doors opened and Ginny stepped out hurriedly, throwing a glance back at the woman still in the elevator. The woman was still staring at her. Puzzled, Ginny headed down the corridor, looking for a door marked three hundred and seventy eight.
"Have a good first day," the woman called after her as the doors closed. Ginny stopped, turned and stared at the closed doors in astonishment.
"Never mind Kristy," a male voice said at her elbow. Startled, she turned to look into a pair of deep brown eyes. "She likes to intimidate the newbies. Who are you looking for?"
Ginny took a deep breath. Great. That had been some kind of test? Who would've thought that Muggles went in for that kind of thing? She exhaled slowly while reaching for the scrap of paper in her pocket. She scanned it quickly. "Um, I'm supposed to meet a Mister Campbell in room three hundred and seventy eight. I don't suppose you know where that is..."
The guy grinned and held out his hand for her to shake while he juggled an armful of manila folders. "Sure do. I'm Dave Bryson, by the way."
Ginny took his hand. "Ginny Weasley." She studied him thoughtfully. "Are you Australian?"
He laughed and released her hand. "Yes. Didn't take you too long to pick that up!"
Ginny smiled wryly. "The accent is a little different."
"Just a bit," he said, gesturing for her to start walking with him. He led her down the corridor. "We're a bit of a multicultural bunch here. Probably about fifty percent English, with the rest of us from mostly Malaysia, Canada and the US. And then, of course, there's me from little old Oz."
"How come you're working in England?" Ginny asked curiously, putting a skip in her walk to keep up with his long-legged strides.
"Fancied the climate," he threw back at her with a cheerful grin. "Nah, my family moved over here when I was fifteen or so. I finished my education and went into work. Never really occurred to me to go back to Australia."
"Fair enough," Ginny said. Dave stopped abruptly.
"This is Campbell's office. I'll catch ya later, hey?" he took off down the corridor.
"Sure," Ginny called after him. "And thank you!"
"No problem!" he yelled back, lifting an arm. He turned a corner and was gone. Ginny turned to the office door. The faded black label on the door proclaimed:
372
Andrew Campbell
Special Investigations Team Supervisor
British Division of Investigation
She lifted her hand and knocked twice, tentatively.
"Come in!" A Scottish brogue could be heard to call out from behind the door. Multicultural indeed, Ginny thought, grinning. Keeping the smile firmly in place, she turned the knob and entered the meticulously tidy office, facing a short, podgy man with thinning black hair and a moustache.
"Mister Campbell?" she enquired.
"Yes?" He looked up at her. "Aha, you must be Miss Weasley!"
"Please, call me Ginny," she offered, closing the door behind her.
"Sit," he said, pointing at the chair in front of his desk. "And generally I stick to last names. Keeps things impersonal."
"Oh," Ginny said, taken aback. "Uh... sure." She sat down on the red cushioned chair, smiling politely as he turned to a filing cabinet and pulled out a thin file marked 'Weasley, Miss G.'
He riffled through the small stack of papers in the file, scanning them quickly. "I've already read all this, Miss Weasley. I'm just trying to locate your partner sheet."
"Ah, indeed," Ginny said. "What's that?"
He raised his eyebrow and continued searching. "The sheet of paper on which I've marked which of my special agents I'm pairing you up with for each assignment."
Ah... Ginny nodded. Realising that he couldn't see her do that, she added, "Oh, right."
"Mmm," he said, pulling out a green slip. "Oh, that's right; Meg forgot to change the paper in the copier that day. Well, Miss Weasley, I've got you paired with Bryson for the first one. You can start work immediately. I'm expecting him any moment for his next assignment."
"Br-Bryson?" she managed. "Dave Bryson?"
"Met him already, have you?" He gave her a keen look, regarding her thoughtfully. "Good," he said finally. "It's a good idea to check out your workmates before arrival."
"Yes," Ginny responded, much relieved to at least be working with someone she was acquainted with.
"So I gather that you've already been told what you'll be doing with us. Much the same as you were doing in Switzerland, I presume." He attempted a smile through a yawn. "You don't have much of an accent from all those years over there."
Switzerland? Ginny thought, bemused. She'd have to ask her father what else he'd made up about her. "Plenty of home contact kept me British, I suppose."
"Yes. Well, I--"
The door crashed open. Dave stood in the doorway. He flashed Ginny a quick smile before directing his attention to Campbell.
"Andy!" he said, leaning against the doorframe.
"Mister Campbell," the older man responded somewhat wearily.
"Mister Campbell," Dave repeated obediently, winking at Ginny. "Can't find that file you want. Or rather, Meg can't find it. She's stirring up a bit of a panic in the office about it."
Campbell rolled his eyes. "I gave it to her only yesterday morning! She said she'd file it under J."
"Ah," Dave said, backing out of the doorway. "She's been looking under H. Back in a tick." He closed the door and was gone.
"As I was saying," Campbell cleared his throat. Ginny looked back at him. "Have you had much experience in the special agent divisions?"
Ginny considered the question. She had, of course; being an Auror-in- training for almost four years under Amelia Bones and then being partnered with the bubbly Nymphadora Tonks for the last four certainly counted as 'experience with special agent divisions', but she couldn't very well tell him that.
"I'm adequately qualified to take on the position," she replied instead. "I think you have my resume?"
"Yes," he affirmed with a nod. "Got you checked out nicely with the Swiss division; Irish bloke named Finnigan gave you a fair telling." He frowned briefly. "The Swiss are almost as bad as us, hiring every Sam, Pierre and Ho-Cha Chong to fill their ranks."
Ginny laughed. At that moment, the door opened again and Dave came back into the office.
"Got the right one this time, boss," Dave said, sliding the file across the desk. He ignored Campbell's exasperated sigh and slid onto the seat next to Ginny. "How's it going thus far, Gin?"
"Fine," Ginny replied with a smile, a little surprised at his friendliness but relieved just the same. It was becoming apparent to her that she could use a friend in this building.
"Excellent," Campbell said. "You can start this tomorrow. Aren't you due at the school half an hour ago, Bryson?"
Dave checked his watch. "Whoops."
"Get," Campbell ordered, putting the file on the corner of his desk. "Take Weasley. And collect this from me later this afternoon."
Ginny's head slammed back against the headrest. She closed her eyes briefly, wondering if it was safe to open them. Dave hadn't turned out to be the world's slowest driver.
"Stupid bloody twit!" Dave had wound down the window and was hollering at the pedestrian. "Can't ya see the flashing red man?"
The man, an irate London shopper, turned around and gave Dave the finger.
"GET F--"
"Honestly!" Dave fumed, having hit the 'up' button and driving on. "I can't believe the idiots that live in this city! They'll walk out in front of ya, no problem; I'm alright, Jack, I got all day to sit here and wait for you to cross the bloody road!"
"Uh..." Ginny started hesitantly.
"Don't worry, Gin," Dave replied. "I've just had a bad day." He screeched the brakes, swerving to the side of the road and parking efficiently albeit jerkily. "And we're here. Let's go."
Fifteen minutes later, they were standing in the middle of the school oval, looking curiously at the 'crop circle' cut in the grass.
"And I swear, in all my days," Mrs. Hargreaves, the headmistress, was saying, "I've never had this happen. Ever!"
"Strewth," Dave remarked, winking at Ginny and giving Mrs. Hargreaves a sincere smile. "We'll investigate this right away, Headmistress, and give you the report."
Mrs. Hargreaves flashed Dave her dimples briefly, thanking him. She nodded at Ginny and headed back across the oval, her long skirts swishing around her heels. Ginny bit down on her tongue, forcing herself not to comment. She'd met worse.
"Another idiot," Dave said good-naturedly. "This is a lawnmower job. Some wanker's idea of a joke. I can't believe she actually rang the BDI to report it." He paused. "I also can't believe Andy actually assigned us to investigate it."
"This is fairly poor," Ginny agreed, studying the 'circle'. "What are you used to investigating?" she asked.
"Murders," Dave said matter-of-factly. "Been on the trail of a brilliant one for almost a year now. Henry Jenkins. Know him?"
"No," Ginny said blankly, before remembering that she was supposed to be a Muggle Londoner. "I mean, um--"
"S'alright, I forgot you've been with the Swiss of late. Jenkins was found murdered in a hotel room about ten, eleven months ago now," Dave told her, pacing the perimeter of the circle. "Twenty feet wide, this is. Or thereabouts."
"Oh," Ginny said. "How was he killed?"
"That's the interesting bit," Dave said. "No one knows. He was found perfectly dead, his body in tip-top condition; save for one interesting snake-shaped cut on his forehead."
"Snake-shaped cut?" Ginny asked quickly. "Not more lightning-bolt shaped?"
"Nah," Dave said, squinting at her. "Nothing like a lightning bolt. Where'd ya get that idea from?"
So Harry is still unique, then.
"Dunno," Ginny waved it off. "Read something similar in Switzerland..." Seeing Dave's look, she hurried on. "Though he died of a heart attack."
"Ah," Dave said. "Well, be buggered if I can figure this one out... maybe you'll be the key to helping me figure it out." He gave her a lop-sided grin. "You'll be my lucky charm, Gin." He glanced at his watch. "She's been gone at least four minutes. That's long enough to form a scientific opinion. Let's go up to the school and explain why it's not alien communication." He shook his head in disgust. "Honestly, aliens? How X- Files is that?"
"X-Files?" Ginny was mystified.
He stared at her, his mouth agape. "You haven't heard of the X-Files? How on earth have you avoided the jokes in this line of work?"
"Just lucky, I guess," she offered, her mind working quickly. X-Files. Some obscure yet famous branch of Muggle Investigations she hadn't heard of yet? She'd have to quiz her father.
He laughed. "You'll be my lucky charm after all!" He started to head back up to the school, his arms swinging merrily by his sides. "Coming?"
The Truth Is Out There
The souls that burn will twist and turn
And find you in the dark, no matter where you run
She's made her mark, but lost her star
And what she's pushing for, she can't remember
Natalie Imbruglia "Come September"
Ginny was enveloped in a cocoon of warmth, the blankets and coverlet pulled up to her chin and snuggled around her. Her pillows were just the right height and her bed-socks were still on her feet, for a change. Her hot water-bottle was cold but it had fallen off the end of the bed anyway. She sighed luxuriously and wriggled further down, deliciously comfortable. The sun was peeking around the edges of her blinds, the light dulled by the curtains. Her eyes were closed and a smile played about her lips as she drifted into and out of states of consciousness, enjoying a lucid dream involving a very good-looking Quidditch player and a bubble-bath.
The alarm went off and Ginny jerked, startled. She opened her eyes slowly and peered at the contraption. She'd never needed any sort of alarm before leaving Hogwarts; all the girls moving about the dormitory had always roused her. After Hogwarts, she'd charmed her wand to wake her – but that was only if she really, desperately needed to be up by a certain time. Usually, Ginny awoke as the sunlight stole over the land and infiltrated her bedroom. She preferred to take her time about arising in the morning. She wasn't the world's most affable person first thing, as her bunkmates had found out almost immediately. She glared at the alarm clock. It was a Muggle alarm clock, for a start. Her father had told her, quite reasonably, that if they ever had Muggle visitors, they'd probably wonder about singing, polished sticks that served as alarm clocks. So now she was stuck with a silver, metallic-looking round thing that had flashing blue numbers and could raise the dead with its squawk.
Ginny moved her arm out from under the warmth and winced briefly at the cold air in the room before slapping at the alarm clock a number of times, trying to make it be quiet. But it wouldn't desist from ringing loudly. She sat up quickly, turned to the clock and picked it up, examining it closely. Where was the 'Off' button? Or at the very least, a 'Shut the hell up' button? She turned it upside, grimacing as the ringing became louder. She squinted at the small print next to a tiny button. 'Reset'. Frowning, she pried her nail in beside it and pushed it over. To her relief, the ringing stopped. She turned the clock over and read the buttons on top of it. As far as she could make out, there was only a button marked 'Snooze', another marked 'Sleep' and the buttons to set the display. She'd have to figure it out later – if she didn't get out of that bed in the next minute or so, she'd end up being late for her first day of work at the British Division of Investigation.
"Good morning!" Susan sang out cheerfully from her place at the kitchen table, grinning at Ginny. Susan must've been up for hours, Ginny thought. She had that early-morning glow to her face that one attains when they get up early and exercise. She was also showered, dressed, had her hair done, make-up applied, the kitchen was clean, she was eating her breakfast - Ginny was willing to bet that Susan had made her bed too.
"Morning," Ginny greeted Susan, coming to a halt on the linoleum floor. "I see you're ready to face the day!"
"Sure am!" Susan agreed, taking another spoonful of cereal from her bowl. She chewed while Ginny went to the fridge and got herself a bowl of muesli. Ginny sat down at the table and poured the milk, admiring the blue and white china jug that housed it.
"Is that the Elm pattern?" she asked curiously, glancing at it a second time. "It's lovely." The Elm Patterned dinner sets were very popular among pure-blooded wizarding families a number of decades ago. To find a milk jug with the Elm pattern on it, still intact, was something of a rare treasure.
"Yeah, it belonged to my grandmother," Susan responded, glancing at the jug fondly. Ginny smiled, putting the milk back in its place and searching out a spoon. "Spoons are in the second drawer from the left," Susan reminded her.
"Oh, sure; I was the one who put them there too. One of those days, I suppose!" Ginny laughed. "Don't know that that's the best way to start off the first day of work!" She got up and found herself a spoon, beginning to eat her breakfast. "Where's Lav?"
"Bathroom." Susan finished her cereal and put the bowl on the sink, beginning to run the water. "We're not supposed to use magic to do the dishes, are we?"
Ginny looked up in amusement. "Well, they said that we weren't to use magic around Muggles or Muggle artifacts... I guess the dishes count, but I'm not going to rat on you if you Scourgify a few dishes here and there!"
Susan grinned ruefully, turning the tap off and pulling on the rubber gloves. "I may as well get used to this sooner rather than later... I won't be able to clean bedpans at the hospital with magic."
"Susan!" Ginny chided her. "I'm eating!"
Susan just laughed, washing up her bowl and the number of mugs that had appeared in the sink overnight. "Looks like Lav had a fix of hot chocolate last night."
"Nah, that was me," Ginny admitted. She took another spoonful of the muesli into her mouth.
"Ginny!" Susan mimicked Ginny's earlier shocked tone. "Couldn't be bothered washing them up?"
"Couldn't even be bothered leaving my bed," Ginny said with a laugh.
Susan put soapy hands on her hips. "You mean to say that you used magic to send your cups to the sink without even leaving your bed?"
"Yes," Ginny replied. Seeing the look on Susan's face, she laughed again. "Oh, c'mon. I'll make more of an effort next time."
"Yes," Susan replied dubiously. "I can just see the mountain of mugs I'll be coming out to every morning." She put a mug up on the sink drainer, covered in foamy suds. "Oh, by the way, the Ministry rang this morning. New housemate isn't arriving until tomorrow night."
"Fair enough," Ginny responded. "Who is it?"
"Don't know," Susan stopped washing and gazed out of the window somewhat dreamily. "I'm hoping for Prince Charming."
"You mean MacMillan doesn't do it for you anymore?" Ginny teased.
Susan blushed.
Ginny just grinned, chewing on the last morsel of muesli. She swallowed and patted her tummy appreciatively. "Muesli is so much better than porridge." She got up and offered her bowl to Susan, who took it and dunked it into the suds. "Thanks."
"No problem," Susan began scrubbing at the bowl with one of the sponges Ginny had brought. "I think the Scourgify way of doing things is a little more efficient." She pulled up her sleeve. "You off to work then?"
"Sure am!" Ginny was taking an apple out of the fruit bowl on the table. "When are we going food-shopping?"
"When the basics run out?" Susan gave a shrug, lifting her arm to rub at her nose. "Tomorrow, probably. Why does my nose always get itchy when I'm wearing gloves?"
"To... really annoy you?" Ginny suggested.
"That must be it," Susan agreed. "So are you going now?"
"Yep." Ginny headed for the door.
"In your slippers?"
Ginny stood in the elevator, squashed in the corner by four massively tall businessmen and a short brunette woman wearing a hat with "BASEBALL IS LIFE" printed across it. She was talking away at a hundred miles an hour to the man next to her in a curious accent that Ginny vaguely recognised as American. She tried to gather her courage to push past them all at her level, but fortunately the elevator stopped at the level just before hers and all four of the men got out. Now it was just Ginny and the American woman. She smiled politely and averted her eyes while the woman stared openly at her, cracking gum in her mouth.
"You from around here?" the woman asked finally, popping her gum loudly. Ginny glanced back at the woman, then down at the floor briefly before meeting the woman's gaze squarely.
"Sort of," she hedged. "From a small town a few miles away."
"Which one?" the woman pressed.
The elevator stopped. The gum continued to pop.
"Penzance," Ginny said quickly, pulling a name out of the air. She moved forward to the doors. They didn't open. She glanced at the panel in surprise. The woman was leaning against it, her thumb firmly pressed against the 'Doors Close' button. "Um..." Ginny started. "Could..."
"Penzance is a ways away," the woman said, raising her eyebrow.
"Only a couple of hours," Ginny responded. "Um, you're leaning on the door button- could I get out, please?"
"Oh," the woman replied, moving away slowly. "Sorry. Go ahead."
"Thanks." The doors opened and Ginny stepped out hurriedly, throwing a glance back at the woman still in the elevator. The woman was still staring at her. Puzzled, Ginny headed down the corridor, looking for a door marked three hundred and seventy eight.
"Have a good first day," the woman called after her as the doors closed. Ginny stopped, turned and stared at the closed doors in astonishment.
"Never mind Kristy," a male voice said at her elbow. Startled, she turned to look into a pair of deep brown eyes. "She likes to intimidate the newbies. Who are you looking for?"
Ginny took a deep breath. Great. That had been some kind of test? Who would've thought that Muggles went in for that kind of thing? She exhaled slowly while reaching for the scrap of paper in her pocket. She scanned it quickly. "Um, I'm supposed to meet a Mister Campbell in room three hundred and seventy eight. I don't suppose you know where that is..."
The guy grinned and held out his hand for her to shake while he juggled an armful of manila folders. "Sure do. I'm Dave Bryson, by the way."
Ginny took his hand. "Ginny Weasley." She studied him thoughtfully. "Are you Australian?"
He laughed and released her hand. "Yes. Didn't take you too long to pick that up!"
Ginny smiled wryly. "The accent is a little different."
"Just a bit," he said, gesturing for her to start walking with him. He led her down the corridor. "We're a bit of a multicultural bunch here. Probably about fifty percent English, with the rest of us from mostly Malaysia, Canada and the US. And then, of course, there's me from little old Oz."
"How come you're working in England?" Ginny asked curiously, putting a skip in her walk to keep up with his long-legged strides.
"Fancied the climate," he threw back at her with a cheerful grin. "Nah, my family moved over here when I was fifteen or so. I finished my education and went into work. Never really occurred to me to go back to Australia."
"Fair enough," Ginny said. Dave stopped abruptly.
"This is Campbell's office. I'll catch ya later, hey?" he took off down the corridor.
"Sure," Ginny called after him. "And thank you!"
"No problem!" he yelled back, lifting an arm. He turned a corner and was gone. Ginny turned to the office door. The faded black label on the door proclaimed:
372
Andrew Campbell
Special Investigations Team Supervisor
British Division of Investigation
She lifted her hand and knocked twice, tentatively.
"Come in!" A Scottish brogue could be heard to call out from behind the door. Multicultural indeed, Ginny thought, grinning. Keeping the smile firmly in place, she turned the knob and entered the meticulously tidy office, facing a short, podgy man with thinning black hair and a moustache.
"Mister Campbell?" she enquired.
"Yes?" He looked up at her. "Aha, you must be Miss Weasley!"
"Please, call me Ginny," she offered, closing the door behind her.
"Sit," he said, pointing at the chair in front of his desk. "And generally I stick to last names. Keeps things impersonal."
"Oh," Ginny said, taken aback. "Uh... sure." She sat down on the red cushioned chair, smiling politely as he turned to a filing cabinet and pulled out a thin file marked 'Weasley, Miss G.'
He riffled through the small stack of papers in the file, scanning them quickly. "I've already read all this, Miss Weasley. I'm just trying to locate your partner sheet."
"Ah, indeed," Ginny said. "What's that?"
He raised his eyebrow and continued searching. "The sheet of paper on which I've marked which of my special agents I'm pairing you up with for each assignment."
Ah... Ginny nodded. Realising that he couldn't see her do that, she added, "Oh, right."
"Mmm," he said, pulling out a green slip. "Oh, that's right; Meg forgot to change the paper in the copier that day. Well, Miss Weasley, I've got you paired with Bryson for the first one. You can start work immediately. I'm expecting him any moment for his next assignment."
"Br-Bryson?" she managed. "Dave Bryson?"
"Met him already, have you?" He gave her a keen look, regarding her thoughtfully. "Good," he said finally. "It's a good idea to check out your workmates before arrival."
"Yes," Ginny responded, much relieved to at least be working with someone she was acquainted with.
"So I gather that you've already been told what you'll be doing with us. Much the same as you were doing in Switzerland, I presume." He attempted a smile through a yawn. "You don't have much of an accent from all those years over there."
Switzerland? Ginny thought, bemused. She'd have to ask her father what else he'd made up about her. "Plenty of home contact kept me British, I suppose."
"Yes. Well, I--"
The door crashed open. Dave stood in the doorway. He flashed Ginny a quick smile before directing his attention to Campbell.
"Andy!" he said, leaning against the doorframe.
"Mister Campbell," the older man responded somewhat wearily.
"Mister Campbell," Dave repeated obediently, winking at Ginny. "Can't find that file you want. Or rather, Meg can't find it. She's stirring up a bit of a panic in the office about it."
Campbell rolled his eyes. "I gave it to her only yesterday morning! She said she'd file it under J."
"Ah," Dave said, backing out of the doorway. "She's been looking under H. Back in a tick." He closed the door and was gone.
"As I was saying," Campbell cleared his throat. Ginny looked back at him. "Have you had much experience in the special agent divisions?"
Ginny considered the question. She had, of course; being an Auror-in- training for almost four years under Amelia Bones and then being partnered with the bubbly Nymphadora Tonks for the last four certainly counted as 'experience with special agent divisions', but she couldn't very well tell him that.
"I'm adequately qualified to take on the position," she replied instead. "I think you have my resume?"
"Yes," he affirmed with a nod. "Got you checked out nicely with the Swiss division; Irish bloke named Finnigan gave you a fair telling." He frowned briefly. "The Swiss are almost as bad as us, hiring every Sam, Pierre and Ho-Cha Chong to fill their ranks."
Ginny laughed. At that moment, the door opened again and Dave came back into the office.
"Got the right one this time, boss," Dave said, sliding the file across the desk. He ignored Campbell's exasperated sigh and slid onto the seat next to Ginny. "How's it going thus far, Gin?"
"Fine," Ginny replied with a smile, a little surprised at his friendliness but relieved just the same. It was becoming apparent to her that she could use a friend in this building.
"Excellent," Campbell said. "You can start this tomorrow. Aren't you due at the school half an hour ago, Bryson?"
Dave checked his watch. "Whoops."
"Get," Campbell ordered, putting the file on the corner of his desk. "Take Weasley. And collect this from me later this afternoon."
Ginny's head slammed back against the headrest. She closed her eyes briefly, wondering if it was safe to open them. Dave hadn't turned out to be the world's slowest driver.
"Stupid bloody twit!" Dave had wound down the window and was hollering at the pedestrian. "Can't ya see the flashing red man?"
The man, an irate London shopper, turned around and gave Dave the finger.
"GET F--"
"Honestly!" Dave fumed, having hit the 'up' button and driving on. "I can't believe the idiots that live in this city! They'll walk out in front of ya, no problem; I'm alright, Jack, I got all day to sit here and wait for you to cross the bloody road!"
"Uh..." Ginny started hesitantly.
"Don't worry, Gin," Dave replied. "I've just had a bad day." He screeched the brakes, swerving to the side of the road and parking efficiently albeit jerkily. "And we're here. Let's go."
Fifteen minutes later, they were standing in the middle of the school oval, looking curiously at the 'crop circle' cut in the grass.
"And I swear, in all my days," Mrs. Hargreaves, the headmistress, was saying, "I've never had this happen. Ever!"
"Strewth," Dave remarked, winking at Ginny and giving Mrs. Hargreaves a sincere smile. "We'll investigate this right away, Headmistress, and give you the report."
Mrs. Hargreaves flashed Dave her dimples briefly, thanking him. She nodded at Ginny and headed back across the oval, her long skirts swishing around her heels. Ginny bit down on her tongue, forcing herself not to comment. She'd met worse.
"Another idiot," Dave said good-naturedly. "This is a lawnmower job. Some wanker's idea of a joke. I can't believe she actually rang the BDI to report it." He paused. "I also can't believe Andy actually assigned us to investigate it."
"This is fairly poor," Ginny agreed, studying the 'circle'. "What are you used to investigating?" she asked.
"Murders," Dave said matter-of-factly. "Been on the trail of a brilliant one for almost a year now. Henry Jenkins. Know him?"
"No," Ginny said blankly, before remembering that she was supposed to be a Muggle Londoner. "I mean, um--"
"S'alright, I forgot you've been with the Swiss of late. Jenkins was found murdered in a hotel room about ten, eleven months ago now," Dave told her, pacing the perimeter of the circle. "Twenty feet wide, this is. Or thereabouts."
"Oh," Ginny said. "How was he killed?"
"That's the interesting bit," Dave said. "No one knows. He was found perfectly dead, his body in tip-top condition; save for one interesting snake-shaped cut on his forehead."
"Snake-shaped cut?" Ginny asked quickly. "Not more lightning-bolt shaped?"
"Nah," Dave said, squinting at her. "Nothing like a lightning bolt. Where'd ya get that idea from?"
So Harry is still unique, then.
"Dunno," Ginny waved it off. "Read something similar in Switzerland..." Seeing Dave's look, she hurried on. "Though he died of a heart attack."
"Ah," Dave said. "Well, be buggered if I can figure this one out... maybe you'll be the key to helping me figure it out." He gave her a lop-sided grin. "You'll be my lucky charm, Gin." He glanced at his watch. "She's been gone at least four minutes. That's long enough to form a scientific opinion. Let's go up to the school and explain why it's not alien communication." He shook his head in disgust. "Honestly, aliens? How X- Files is that?"
"X-Files?" Ginny was mystified.
He stared at her, his mouth agape. "You haven't heard of the X-Files? How on earth have you avoided the jokes in this line of work?"
"Just lucky, I guess," she offered, her mind working quickly. X-Files. Some obscure yet famous branch of Muggle Investigations she hadn't heard of yet? She'd have to quiz her father.
He laughed. "You'll be my lucky charm after all!" He started to head back up to the school, his arms swinging merrily by his sides. "Coming?"