AN: Thank you to parselmouth, whitewolf, olivetree, henriette, sanzo and someone for reviewing.
Feedback is very important for me, as I need to know your opinions on the work and points of improvement.
The Department of Intelligence and Espionage
She was a pretty, in a distinctly childish manner, with thick bouncing black curls that danced when she walked. Her pale complexion was commonly linked with artificial assistance but Tom felt assured that it was wholesomely natural.
Nothing about Evanlyna seemed mature. From her mischievous expression to her slender frame and her underdeveloped figure, she practically radiated childish whims. Tom was faintly amused when he found himself linking her to Peter Pan, the muggle who refused to grow up. However it was slightly judgemental of him to assume her intelligence was not yet mature.
Like the perfect gentleman, Tom extended bowed and took the outstretched hand. There was a faint fit of giggles and he rose to see Evanlyna half covering her face in attempt to retain her dignity. Less surprisingly, Rovera was openly glaring at her sister with unveiled disapproval.
"Oh, Voldemort, I'm so glad to finally meet you in person. My family have told me so much about you," she curtseyed in a manner customary to young girls and Tom could not help but to be faintly amused.
Marriages were often arranged in the pureblood society. Like the Roman aristocracy, marriage was considered to be a useful tool in securing alliances in both business and politics. The women like their predecessors would be given little choice in the matter even if they had aspired for any. While the rest of the wizardring world was considerably ahead of muggles in their attitudes towards sexual equality, the pureblood conservatives retained the traditional ways.
Tom's engagement had been arrange by himself, no less, some months ago during the Malfoy's Ball, which had been considered the social event of the year. He had not met Evanlyna then, as it was uncustomary to meet one's bride beforehand, but he had a faint feeling the youngest and most pampered daughter of the Slytherin family would no doubt be a little immature. His slight misgivings did not prevent the reunion taking place; he needed to ally himself with at least one of the Slytherin families, his own name alone would not get him far enough.
Now he saw her in person for the first time, he decided she resembled his mother in her physical appearance but, even though he had never known his mother, Tom was quite sure she would have been more composed. Strangely enough his previous assumption that her personality would likely annoy him was proved quite wrong. Tom felt torn between amusement and a faint sense of disapproval. There was, of course desire thrown into the mix. Evanlyna was a beautiful, well-groomed girl and her immaturity caused her to become even more desirable.
"Evanlyna Slytherin, It is my pleasure to finally meet my future bride. I must say, you look so much more beautiful in person," Tom stretched out his hand and courteously led her towards the refreshment table. "May I offer you a drink, Evanlyna?" She continued to giggle in her girlishly high-pitched voice and only nodded.
Rovera discreetly rolled her eyes and firmly led the still fanaticised Severus Black towards the lower levels, hoping to escape her sister. Ignius melted once again into another social group and was now actively engaged in a heated debate over the recent quidditch world cup. Livia and Melissa presently left with Paulinus in toll, leaving Tom alone with his bride-to-be.
"Oh, this party has turned out to be quite enjoyable, hasn't it?" said Evanlyna as she stood on the upper level of the grand terrace and stood gazing at the sunset in the west. Her face was illuminated by the orange glow and somehow it made her features mature. She turned and gazed fixatedly at Tom as if she was thinking deeply, perhaps she was. "How you ever wondered whether there was perhaps more to life?". The question nearly took Tom by surprise; his fiancée had calmed down after she had become accustomed to his presence but ultimate questions were hardly after dinner conversation.
"There are causes worth fighting for in our lives, even if our attempts seem futile to spectators. After all life is not a spectator sport." Tom rubbed his chin in a deliberate manner and stared into her dark eyes.
"What is your cause?" her voice was barely above a whisper and her earrings jangled as she turned sharply to face the sunset once more.
"My cause is to further the interest of the magical kind,"
"I suppose it is a cause worth pursuing." She shook her head and the light danced on her ornamental dressings. "It is worthless to talk about this now, the future has been decided and we must face the consequences the best we can."
"I believe the future will be beneficial to both of us, Evanlyna. You will not regret your decision."
"I have visions. It was not my decision and remember this, it will never be my decision but I relent, the future will be beneficial for both of us," her words were spoken with an abrupt decisiveness but her eyes were filled with concern as they gazed at Tom.
"What do you see, Evanlyna," he asked he drew near to her and clasped her hands together. He needed to know the source of her concern. He needed to know of her vision.
"I see a brilliant wizard, capable of many things. I see a husband and a father to my children. I see an ambitious politician, I see too many other things…" she broke off uncertainly and Tom knew from her expression what else she had seen.
They broke away and each went a separate way back to the ballroom to dance.
Tom carefully checked his crystal timer; he had a strong habit of punctuality. The grandfather clock inside the Ministry's Atrium struck one with a deep rich sound that reverberated around cavernous hall that was utterly devoided of life. The start of the afternoon saw both wizard and muggle society settled into a studious pattern of work. It was also the opportune time for inquiries as most officials were now feeling fairly contented after their large sized luncheons.
Tom had come for the sole purpose of determining his contract with the Department of Law Enforcement.
"Voldemort Salamir, it is a pleasure to meet you," the stern face of the wizard who had appeared two feet to his right seemed to contradict the statement.
"It is also a pleasure to meet you, Odysseus Rookwood." Tom acknowledged him with a nod.
"My office would be the best place to continue our discussion". Rookwood march down a brightly lit corridor without hesitation and Tom followed.
The office was situated near the end of the corridor quite near the atrium. Tom briefly wondered why such an important official was granted an office in the most inconvenient of places. The plaque on the door was polished to the point that an immaculate reflection of himself could be seen behind the craved letters that spelt: "O. P. Rookwood. Head of the Department of Intelligence and Espionage". The plaque clearly did not belong there and Tom realised that Rookwood had simply transferred his plaque onto a spare room. In interior was bare and as large as the average broom cupboard. There was no carpet or any other non-essential component of office life. The desk was made of chipboard covered in a wooden pattern and the chairs padded with coarse woven material that screamed public property. Rookwood clearly did not think enough of him to allow Tom any access to his papers.
"These are the necessary papers Mr Salamir. No doubt you already know all the terms of the contract so please sign here," Rookwood flipped through the booklet and pointed to a dotted line squeezed onto the bottom of the last page. Tom could hardly fit his signature in. "You will receive your assignment shortly by post. I suggest the you do not show it to anyone you like…" Rookwood paused dramatically and sneered, " the consequences are dire." Tom refrained from rolling his eyes at the antics of his superior; the weak man's thirst for blood was so much greater than that of a strong man.
"Thank you for your time Mr Rookwood. I appreciate your efforts. I shall be sure to inform you of my situation at the appropriate time." Tom turned to leave but was caught by the sullen voice,
"You're playing with the big boys now…I suggest you hurry up and learn that," Tom sneered without turning around,
"You should take your own advice Rookwood." Tom was gone before he could hear a reply.
The sun was shining outside when Tom exited the building. The ministry of magic always depressed him with its regulations. The irregular hustle bustle of the crowds in Diagon Alley served to revive his spirit. It was nearing the end of July and the numbers of shoppers had steadily increases in response to the coming school year. Mixed memories of his own school days floated past his mind but the lure of Florish and Botts was too tempting and he proceeded to push the memories to the back of his brain as he browsed through the various sections for any books that he might want to buy.
His new job bought to mind that he would need some special materials for the job. Rookwood had not seen fit to provide him with any, but, her reminded himself, he was not technically an employee of the ministry of magic. He was more of a freelance mercenary. However the equipment he need could only be obtained at Knocturn Alley.
Knocturn Alley was a frequent meeting place for the dark side of the wizardring world and Tom enjoyed the atmosphere of dark magic that hung over the alley like a vapour. The resident shopkeepers were all hardened men who had witnessed enough between them to incriminate most of the pureblood population. Not that they would ever go to the most hated of civil forces, the Aurors. The said organisation was considered a rude world in this part of London and besides no one survived in Knocturn Alley without a little hobby on the side so it was not economically sound to incriminate anyone else. The shops that lined the main alley consisted of the dark versions of all the shops found in Diagon Alley, from Quiggly's Quidditch to Borgins and Burkes anyone could purchase anything provided they had the correct amount of money. Currently Tom was headed for one of his favourite shops in a secluded alleyway branching off the main street.
Maynard's was a small shop even by Knocturn Alley standards. Measuring seven foot by thirteen it had a small front and an even smaller interior. Having so little room all merchandise was crammed magically onto the three sets of shelves inside the tiny shop. The front windows were grimy with dirt but seasoned customers knew it was in fact a one-way mirror from which the non-existent owner could monitor the activities outside the shop. The most interesting thing about Maynards was not its merchandise, displays or doggy windows but the conspicuous lack of staff. The shop was unmanned; one simply chose the appropriate item and left the correct amount of money on the counter. No one in recent memory had been stupid enough to try and rob the shop, however not so exaggerated tales circulated amongst the traders about the consequences of such actions.
Tom was not about to rob Maynard's, for one he really did like the shop and two he had enough gold to last him a lifetime living luxury. The door swung open of its own accord as Tom approached. The scent of burning incense mixed with the musty smell of old parchment wafted out to greet his nose. The inside was as he had always remembered it dark, rank and filled with dust. The merchandise, for there was no other word that could collectively describe the things on offer, was still stacked neatly on the shelves. New labels though had been added to a few of the ledges meaning what ever managed the shop had finally decided to stop shifting things around to make room for more stuff. Tom walked briskly over to a shelf marked "Magical Items" and pulled out a small wooden box. He had been intending to purchase it for sometime now but he had never gotten around to it. However in his new job, invisibility pendants were a necessity.
He took it to the front counter where nearly the entire surface was filled with rotating stands displaying all manners of potions ingredients most of which were illegal. A small square of open space directly in the middle of the counter was covered with multicoloured stains. There was small tin in the corner, partially concealed by some dried leaves dangling from the stand near by. A torn and equally stained label inside the tin announced in small cursive writing that all payments must be placed inside the tin. Tom pulled out a small bag of coins from his pocket; the price was left to the buyer's discretion…well almost. Once the gold had been tipped into the tin blue sparks shot from the sides illuminating the counter; the owner was satisfied with the price and he was allowed to leave.
Tom's next destination would have been the Black Rose but first he needed to go home and open his mail. With some luck his assignment would have arrived.
AN: Next chapter the assignment...
henriette: thank you for your encouragement
Sanzo: hope you liked the new chapter
Parselmouth: It's Just a Nightmare has been updated…but you probably know that already
Whitewolf: thanks for the comments, changed the ending to chapter 4 definitely too cheesy. Any way enjoy.
Olivetree: Rachel your bugging was pitiful, but I suppose it worked.