Sapphire Shot
Authors Note: I am not from England, and know very little about it. SO do not be offended if I'm off, or the locations don't exist in London.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Please don't steal that.
Feedback: All types accepted lovingly.
Warning: This fic contains A LOT of gay/lesbian action. But it also has a few straight scenes (they just happen to be very…short). So…if you can't stand the gayness, I suggest you go. Also, the first chapter is kinda slow…so…SORRY! I promise chapter one will be better! And…um…well…I tend to flip around in the perspective of things. I go from third person to first…so…sorry if that confuses you guys!
Mini Plot: Three years post Hogwarts. Voldemort is dead, but his legacy lives on. There is an alliance of secret societies located in London, Oxford, York, and Manchester, one alliance per city (remember, I am not from England…so the magical sides of these towns may be NOTHING like the towns). The liaison between these alliances and the Ministry of Magic is the Order of the Phoenix. At the head of the Order is Harry J. Potter. At Harry's side is Draco Malfoy, loyal partner in more than one way. Head of all Aurors and contact to the Order of the Phoenix is Ronald Weasley. At his side are Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, and numerous others. However, those with the most important job of all are those in the secret societies. Each society has a pair that reports to the OTP on a regular basis. The four societies are named as follows:
London- Darwin
Oxford- Durham
York- Dartman
Manchester- Durg
These societies make up the Sapphire Shot. You never know who is in the societies, unless you are a liaison. Then, perhaps, you know a few names. No, the only people who know everyone in active duty under the Sapphire Shot are the detectives themselves. In other countries there are other societies. You will hear mentioned the Emerald Leaf, the Orange Orb, and the Ruby Range. The Emerald Leaf is Scotland, the Orange Orb France, and the Ruby Range America. This, however, is beside the point. I must tell you who speaks to Harry on behalf of the Sapphire Shot, and who their captain is (at the top of each division is a Captain and their partner, known as the Assigner. There is no one above them: their tasks come from the people).
Darwin- Hermione G. & Virginia W.Capt. Jax Locke & As. Alexa Jones
Durham- Colin C. & Ace Locke Capt. Sergio Vega & As. Jack Tippins
Dartman- Ebony Lurke & Derek Grey Capt. Vicious C. & As. Ray Nebat
Durg- Nat Quartz & Mark Bones Capt. Carson Vega & As. Raziel Jones
Our Story will begin shortly. However, I must tell you about the people you may not know of. Please, do not murder me! I only want you to see them as clearly as you see all the characters you know and love (If you would like to, you can skip this part, it's not really important. It's a very small description).
Captain Jax Locke
Eyes: green
Hair: black
Gender/Sexual Pref.: Female/Female
Assigner Alexa Jones
Eyes: blue
Hair: blonde
Gender/Sexual Pref.: Female/Female
Ace Locke
Eyes: hazel
Hair: black
Gender/Sexual Pref.: Male/Male
Captain Sergio Vega
Eyes: grey
Hair: brown
Gender/Sexual Pref.: Male/Female
Assigner Jack Tippins
Eyes: brown w/ golden flecks
Hair: golden
Gender/Sexual Pref.: Male/Female
Ebony Lurke
Eyes: lightning blue
Hair: black
Gender/Sexual Pref.: Female/Male
Derek Grey
Eyes: silverfish blue
Hair: pewter
Gender/Sexual Pref.: Male/Female
Captain Vicious Crayne
Eyes: green
Hair: brown
Gender/Sexual Pref.: Female/Male
Assigner Ray Nebat
Eyes: brown
Hair: redhead
Gender/Sexual Pref.: Male/Female
Nat Quartz
Eyes: neon green
Hair: red wine
Gender/Sexual Pref.: Male/Male
Mark Bones
Eyes: light blue
Hair: dark blue
Gender/Sexual Pref.: Male/Male
Captain Carson Vega
Eyes: blue
Hair: brown
Gender/Sexual Pref.: Male/Female
Assigner Raziel Jones
Eyes: violet
Hair: blonde
Gender/Sexual Pref.: Male/Male
Prologue: Just Another Day
Rain pounded down on the old Gruemoor warehouse. Its dark wood became darker with each moment, the rain soaking it thoroughly. The building groaned, an old black shingle falling from the top, giving the impression to an innocent passerby that it was going to collapse at any given moment. However, to those who knew the warehouse, there was no worry. It had withstood worse conditions than a bout of English summer rain. Besides, if it did happen to collapse, it was no sweat of anyone's back. The place had been abandoned during the First World War. There was no one who knew what it had been. They were all dead. The only reason the warehouse still stood was because no one cared. It was just another old building. Something the old people would use as a landmark to find their homes.
Another shingle fell to the ground. A most unfortunate young man rode his bike at a desperate pace, cursing softly as his body was soaked. Cars passed by every few minutes, windshield wipers on full blast. Dogs barked at the sounds of far off thunder. Children lay in their beds, silently praying that they would be safe, or otherwise slumbering peacefully. On the porch of one house, an elderly fellow with tufts of grey hair growing from his ears watched the dry grass lap up the rain, a pleased look on his wrinkled face. There would be no need to worry about his grandson starting a fire with his pop rockets.
Alexa Jones observed all of this from the database (an oversized super computer) as she sat in her worn leather chair, inside her office (and home) on the top floor of the Gruemoor warehouse.
The fact that outsides could be so deceiving had never lost its humor to her. Not one muggle could conceive, much less suspect, what went on within the warehouse. For it was not just some shabby landmark. It was the home of over 150 of the finest witches and wizards in England. These were the people who scoffed at Aurors, laughed at the Department of Mysteries. These were the few remaining magical folk who believed in loyalty and courage above all else. To them, dying was better than telling a secret. While some in the Ministry may say they would do this, those who lived in the Gruemoor warehouse lived it.
Surprisingly, only about 10 percent of them were past Gryffindors.
Alexa sat back, sighing softly. It looked like another slow night. And in her years of experience, slow nights never meant any good. Somewhere in London, trouble was brewing. It was her job to find where that trouble was. So she did.
18734 Cornell St.- Armed Robbery
Apartment 177, 16542 Burke Lane- Drug Dealers
19002 Empathy Dr.- Attempted Assault
17645 Hargass St.- Magical Hackers
Yes…Just another slow night. All the problems fell into the 'Ministry Will Handle' pile. Nights like this put the detectives on edge. They hated not having any action. It just meant that in about two weeks, someone would end up kidnapped or dead, or some whacko would blow something up, or (and this was their favorite one) some ex-death eater would lead a muggle hunt. Those were great. No matter how peaceful you tried to keep them, blood would be shed. Pleasant, huh?
Deciding that she had done enough for the night, Alexa rose. She ran a hand through her long blonde hair, pausing at her neck to massage a particularly sore spot. Her usually clear blue eyes were rimmed with red: it had been about two days since she last slept. Two long, boring days of worrying about the lack of action. What she needed was a long, hot shower, and a nice long night of rest. If anything happened…well, it would be her fault. Yet deep inside, she was cocky. She had faith in the Darwin Society. They had yet to fail London. Not one assigner had ever let the city be harmed beyond repair. Because the assigner was never alone. The captain would always be right there to help them out of a tight spot.
Captain Jax Locke was no exception.
The jet haired woman sat at her desk, filing paperwork. She watched with loving green as Alexa moved around the room, gathering her toiletries. At that, Jax smiled. It was about time Alexa took a break. She'd been worrying non stop for the past few days, and it drove Jax insane. She hated watching the blonde act that way. All worry no talk. Interesting conversation was one of the many things Jax loved about her girl. Granted, it was one of the things that depended on other things to be a like able time waster, but Jax still loved it.
But more than conversation, Jax loved watching Alexa sleep. And that was not going to happen until the woman bathed. So Jax watched her go, wishing they could talk, knowing it was better that they didn't.
The old man stood from his spot on the porch, worn bones cracking slightly. He reached into his pocket, slowly drawing out a small silver lighter. Opening it with caution, he began to mumble what most would think were words of a lunatic. To those who gossiped about the old man, they were. But to those who knew his code, they made perfect sense. Something wicked this way was coming. He knew. They knew.
And the rain pounded down on the old Gruemoor warehouse.