A/N: Hey… four months between updates isn't bad… for me. (¬‿¬)
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or Harry Potter.
Chapter 10
Mercy
"I just don't understand how they could have bungled it up this badly."
Arnold Peasegood huffed in agreement, trailing his grumbling compatriot into the empty alleyway and silently casting a muggle-repelling charm to ensure privacy. Her complaints were valid, as far as he was concerned – to butcher a simple clean-up to such an extent that it created an international incident was unheard of, especially for the hard-working employees that staffed the Ministry's Obliviator Headquarters.
As far as Arnold could tell, no one from his office had even been assigned to the case in Yorkshire. According to the report given to Arnold just a couple hours ago, there'd been an accident – a magical experiment gone awry, leaving six dead. The three muggles at the scene, an elderly couple and one young man, had been completely butchered; the three idiot wizards running the experiment had been mangled but there had been enough left to at least identify them.
As should have been the case, Ministry employees from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes would have been sent to deal with clean up, including ones from his office. Instead, a couple over-eager Aurors had gotten their hands all over the scene, thinking they could mock a decent enough cover-up that local Muggle authorities would let the whole thing pass as a missing persons case, eventually going cold.
The international emergency report requesting information on a British wizard quickly blew that idea straight to hell.
"These Aurors, they always forget the computers," Lydia Malone, his companion from the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, ranted quietly. "They can't get it through their thick skulls that Muggles don't use ink and paper anymore! That massive amounts of information are run through by computers, which we can't touch or bzzt! It's fried and nothing is changed!"
Arnold, a second-generation half-blood, tried to recall what little he knew about operating Muggle technology. He recognized some of the tech from his work, such as computers and phones, but he rarely touched them himself – relying on the Muggles he Obliviated to fill in the gaps with their own logic and knowledge. He had a somewhat limited grasp on how much a computer could do, but even he knew that any case he worked to clean, the computers were one of the first things to work on.
"Do you think that's how the case didn't go cold?" Arnold asked her. "Computer found a discrepancy?"
Malone gave a one-armed shrug, busy transfiguring her robes into appropriate muggle attire. "Could be, or maybe a relative of one of the muggles came in asking for an update," she said in distraction, brown hair being twisted into a strict up-do favored by the muggles. "Or maybe they were double-checking their information and noticed the computer records were still there."
She heaved another irritated sigh. Arnold empathized – it was easy enough to destroy the computer files, as long as they were kept on one computer. Whoever was in charge of clean-up of this scene before them clearly had no idea what they were doing if they'd left the computer untouched and ready to be used.
"Wonder how they started suspecting Lupin, though," Malone said. "There's got to be at least a dozen weirdoes in places like this, and they start looking at the one that just happens to be a wizard?"
"He's a werewolf, isn't he?" Arnold pointed out. "He's probably got a bad reputation around here to start with. As soon as people start disappearing… well, even Muggles can probably sense something was off with him…"
Once they were properly suited-up – Arnold in a smart black suit with matching coat that reminded him of American Aurors, Malone in a wine red pencil skirt and collared white blouse with an identical black coat – they headed to their destination.
Preventers had several smaller branch offices scattered across the British Isles, but the main branch office was stationed in London and answered directly to their headquarters in Brussels. They'd decided to head to the London branch, preferring to keep the issue domestic.
The London Preventers Branch Office was a ten-story building wrought from steel, plaster, and glass. It seemed to be made of several dissimilarly-sized rectangles stacked atop each other, with large-paned windows facing north that saw out to the busy streets for a view that must have been dazzling. The Preventers logo was emblazoned at the top of a large plaster stretch, backlit and stark. It's an overwhelming structure, with a park/garden area to the west and a parking structure to the east.
"I'll take the lead," Malone said quietly, quirking a teasing smile in his direction. Arnold only nodded – this was also customary. It made more sense for the one with a deeper understanding of how muggle authorities worked to take the lead when they had to interact directly, so Arnold wasn't bothered by it. This wasn't even the first case he's worked with Malone before, and honestly, he was glad it was her this time around – she was the most competent of her office.
The front office was large and open, marble counter separating the workers' area from the lobby, where plush lounge chairs and sofas stood. Several ornate glass doors opened into a large and airy lobby, where plush lounge chairs and sofas stood in loose circles for people to wait their turn. A dark marble counter wound around towards the back of the public area, several people sat behind it, the sign above them noting their function as the 'Check-In Counter'. Although similar to some of the police offices Arnold had entered before, this was far more grandiose. His eyes found the Office Directory Map as they passed it, the offices and their floors listed in large, bold print for easy view.
[DIRECTORY]
-L1: FINGERPRINTS
-1st FLOOR: MAIN LOBBY & CAFÉ
-2nd FLOOR: PROCESSING OFFICE
-3rd FLOOR: EMPLOYEE RECREATION AREA
-4th FLOOR: AGENT OFFICES & COMMUNITY DEVELOPMENT
-5th FLOOR: AGENT OFFICES & RECORDS
-6th FLOOR: AGENT OFFICES & COMMUNICATIONS
-7th FLOOR: AGENT OFFICES
-8th FLOOR: OUTDOOR GARDEN & PATIO AREA
-9th FLOOR: CONFERENCE ROOMS & GUEST OFFICES
-10th FLOOR: OFFICE OF THE CHIEF OFFICER
Malone approached the counter, confidence lining her shoulders. "Hello, we're here to provide information on a case," she said, words clipped.
The young man wearing a nametag and sat behind the counter leveled a steady gaze on them, hands resting on a black typeset – a keyboard, Arnold recognized belatedly – before he moved one to pull out a clipboard, hidden behind the panes of his marble desk.
"Please write your name and details here," he instructed them, voice cool. He said nothing more, just stared at them, until they realized that he wouldn't continue until they'd done as he instructed. Malone scribbled the information on quickly, astonishingly keeping her irritated mutterings to herself before she thrust the clipboard back at the male.
He took it without a flinch, eyes scouring over their details. After another moment, his hands returned to his black keyboard and he started typing away. At Arnold's best guess, he was entering their information into whatever computer system Preventers was run on. He paused, glancing over at them. "From what location does your case originate? London, Kent, Norfolk...?"
"Yorkshire."
More keystrokes, and then he turned back to them, placid expression still in place. "Please take a seat in the lobby area. Once an agent from the appropriate division comes down to escort you, your name will be called."
Again, no other information was shared. Malone lead the way to the nearest lounge chairs, pulling a face in Arnold's view once she had turned away from the counter. Arnold internally agreed – the boy could learn some proper manners if he was going to work in reception.
They waited in the lobby for well over fifteen minutes. Arnold was honestly considering just using his magic to compel the vaguely-contemptuous receptionist to push them to the front of whatever line they were queued in on that little computer of his. Malone was glancing at him every now and then, seeming to hint with nothing but her eyes that he'd better not dare because she wasn't keen on cleaning up his mess too.
"Mr. and Mrs. Arnold?" came over the intercom system.
They stood together, moving towards the double-doors where a young woman stood. "Mr. and Mrs. Arnold?" she asked, and upon their confirmation, led them through the doors.
They stepped into a much smaller room in comparison to the lobby, where metallic archways towered before them. "Please step through the scanners," the woman stated, her tones even and professional. Arnold recognized them as muggle security technology, subtly reaching into the folds of his coat to finger his wand. Malone glanced back at him and gave a tiny nod, indicating approval of his actions.
Before she passed through the archway, Arnold flicked his wand in the direction of the woman guiding them, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as the Confundus charm settled on her and the man sat beside the archway. A glaze look entered their eyes as Malone stepped through, the archway letting out a shrill alarm – likely reacting to the magic concentrated in her wand core. He was quick to follow her, Malone releasing the muggles from the Confundus charm once the alarm went silent.
The two muggles blinked a bit, features quickly schooling back into their stoic expressions. Given the lack of alarm, they assumed that both Malone and Arnold had passed the security check, and the woman motioned them for her to continue following her.
They were led to the elevator bank, the woman using the blue card attached to her lanyard to operate it. They were taken up to the 6th floor and into an office crowded with filing cabinets, a portly woman sat behind a wooden desk, focus previously trained on her computer screen before they entered.
"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Arnold?" she double-checked.
At their nods, she gestured for them to take the open seats across from her. "Great! I'm Agent Malhotra." She tapped at her computer keys, expression open and inquisitive. "You were here to provide details on a Preventers case from Yorkshire, correct? To which case are you referring?"
"There was a missing persons case reported in Yorkshire, regarding Alfred and Penny Monroe," Malone answered, leaned forward in her seat.
Malhotra typed something more into her computer, hopefully alighting on the appropriate case. "The Monroe case…" she murmured, eyes scouring the details on the screen. Given their positions, they couldn't read what she was seeing, but she started typing again. This continued for a couple minutes before she turned her attention back to them.
"What kind of information are we talking about here?"
"We know who did it," Malone said. "It was Sirius Black."
Malhotra's brows drew together. "Sirius Black?" she echoed. Her eyes glanced back at her screen, fingers snapping over the keys with only a shred of her attention paid to it.
"The mass murderer," Malone explained. "He killed 13 people in AC 182, but escaped prison two years ago."
Malhotra's expression did not clear. "How are you sure it was Sirius Black? Did you see him, or-?"
Arnold reached once more for his wand, and Malone waited as the Imperius Curse settled over the muggle woman. The unforgivable was only allowed to be utilized in such circumstances, when they needed muggles to do as instructed if words were not enough. Malone leaned back in her chair, letting out a low sigh as Malhotra began tapping the necessary information into the Preventers system.
Once they had Malhotra enter the information into the muggle computer system, shifting the blame for the missing persons case onto the escaped convict, it would soon go cold –until Black was found, either by wizarding or muggle authorities.
It had only been just about ten minutes before there was a soft knock at the door. Malhotra gave no reply but still the door opened, a young man taking a step inside, eyes sweeping the office in one long look.
"Agent Malhotra, I'm here for Mr. and Mrs. Arnold," he said, voice almost melodic.
"No need. I've got it all taken care of," Malhotra returned curtly, eyes never straying from her screen as she continued typing.
The male was seemingly unperturbed by the treatment. "If it's regarding the Monroe case in Yorkshire, then it falls under my office's jurisdiction," he said.
Malone frowned. "Jurisdiction?"
"The Monroe's case is being worked on by my office, on the 7th floor."
"But I can handle it!" Malhotra, spurred on by the Imperius, retorted.
"You don't have the same clearance level." The man looked at Malone and Arnold, expression unchanging. "Please come with me."
They did not need to be told twice. Either way, the deed would be done. Malone followed the man out of the office, Arnold hanging back just long enough to alter the memory of the last few moments from Malhotra's mind before hurrying after them.
"I am Agent Anchor," he told them, diffident in tone. He pulled a green card from an inside pocket on his jacket, activating the elevator and taking them up to the 7th floor. From what Arnold remembered of the office directory, these were just more Agent Offices, so he wasn't surprised to see a similar layout to the floor they'd just left.
Agent Anchor lead them down an identical hallway, opening another office door and gesturing for them to enter first. Although the room was the same size as Malhotra's office, it was window-less and empty aside from a simple four-legged table with two metallic chairs on either side and a black screen built into the opposite wall.
Malone turned with a questioning expression on, but had no time to say anything before Anchor had the door slammed in their faces. Arnold, alarmed by the sudden action, grabbed at the door handle – only to have it disintegrate in his hands.
"Use of magic against a Preventers agent," came Agent Anchor's cold, melodic voice through an unseen intercom. "Is against the law."
Digital script burst to life on the black screen, magic-nullifying wards snapping into place.
The fireplace roared to life, the heat a momentary sensation before dying down in a swirl of uncharacteristically somber robes, Albus Dumbledore stepping out and into Grimmauld Place's kitchen without a stumble. He didn't reach to brush the clinging ash on his hems, as with only a simple twitch of the fingers, the ash was swept into a small breeze and back into the dying embers of a fading fire.
"Albus," Sirius greeted, aware of how low he'd spoken. An unintended lapse, but every passing hour in his homestead felt like walking across eggshells.
"Good evening, Sirius," Dumbledore returned. He hadn't been as quiet as Sirius, but gone was the teasing edge that often colored his words. "I was hoping to speak with Remus."
Sirius set his mug down. "He's sitting with Duo," he replied. "Has been since- well, you know."
Dumbledore nodded, making his way towards the stairs, Sirius quick to follow. It'd been nearly 36 hours since Duo's collapse as the result of Dark magic. Not that they had been able to pinpoint why exactly Duo had had such a severe reaction to the cursed object, a golden necklace with a red stone pendant, and both Remus and Moody had inspected it thoroughly. It was ripe with Dark magic, as most items in the Black household were, but Duo's reaction to it had been extreme.
The screaming had been damn near-deafening. The utter silence that followed had been worse.
Dumbledore pushed open Duo's bedroom door, Sirius following him inside. The scene he'd come across while bringing Remus his lunch earlier was much the same now: Duo's pale form laid under the dark blue sheets of his bed, still aside from his breathing. Remus, as he had been ever since they'd carried Duo's comatose form to his room all those hours ago, was maintaining vigil at the boy's side.
"Remus," Dumbledore called.
Remus stood, eyes slowly leaving Duo's placid visage to turn towards the wizened headmaster. "Albus, have you- have you found something to help?"
"I'm sorry, Remus, not yet," Dumbledore replied. "Given Duo's unique circumstances, I'm still…looking into it."
Unique circumstances – meaning Duo's Newtype magic. It was a complicated matter, given the nature of Dark magic and the unknown element of Newtype magic. Duo had destroyed wands just by trying to use them, so it was possible his magic had had an adverse reaction to the Dark artifact. It wasn't like they could just go ask a Newtype what happened if they interacted with Dark magic, so this situation was unprecedented and hard to resolve.
Remus only nodded.
"The situation, however, has evolved," Dumbledore continued, venturing further inside. He stopped at the other side of Duo's bed, looking over the youth.
"Evolved?" Sirius echoed.
"The muggle world is looking for you, Remus."
Remus's head shot up, confusion eclipsing his features. "What…?"
"There's been an alert, sent out from Preventers," Dumbledore said. "They're looking for you. They want to question you about a missing persons case."
"Do you think it's about Duo?" Sirius asked.
"It's possible," Dumbledore agreed. "It could also be about the muggle couple that ran the guesthouses Duo was staying at prior to the attack."
"They were killed," Remus recalled. "But Kingsley and Emmeline cleaned up the scene…"
"They hid Duo's involvement but left the scene as is, hoping the Ministry would look into why three wizards from prominent families were in Death Eater robes," Dumbledore said. The muggle couple's bodies would have been left untouched then, having been killed by the three men prior to their attack on Duo. As Duo had killed them via muggle means rather than magical, it would be hard for the Ministry to blame another wizard or witch for setting anything up.
Sirius snorted. "Fudge had it covered up then?"
Dumbledore's eyes were pained. "Yes, his fear is so great… His mistakes are only piling up," he sighed. "It also seems Kingsley and Emmeline were not able to hide every trace of Duo, so it's possible they may have traced his connection to Remus."
"They think… Do they think I killed them? And Duo?" Remus asked, voice hollow. From the way his eyes lingered on the boy, it looked as if he felt guilty for just that.
"There's no way to tell what exactly Preventers think, but the Ministry has made its move," Dumbledore replied. "Kingsley sent me a message earlier. Fudge has sent agents from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including an Obliviator, to Preventers. They intend to shift the blame onto Sirius for the incident."
"Of course they do," Sirius growled.
Remus tugged the sheets a little closer to his comatose son. "They could imply that I was helping Sirius too," he reasoned out. "Or even that Duo may be at fault, if they find out he is still alive…"
If they'd failed to hide all traces of Duo from the guesthouse, then the Ministry could also set up Duo as the perpetrator. Sirius could understand Remus's line of reasoning: Fudge would do anything to ensure that no one believed Death Eaters had returned to muggle lynching. With two dead muggles and three dead wizards wearing Death Eater robes, Fudge had to have tried his best to cover up the entire incident. Preventers calling for Remus Lupin was a thrown wrench in both the Order's plans and the Ministry's, and now it was a race to see who could convince Preventers first.
"I need to go to Preventers," Remus said, understanding dawning in his eyes.
Dumbledore seemed relieved that Remus was acting clear-headed enough to understand that. "Yes," he agreed. "You need to be cleared of suspicion." Or he'd end up like Sirius, locked up in Grimmauld Place, forever on the run from both magical and muggle authorities.
"And Duo?"
Dumbledore's eyes dimmed. "Unfortunately, time is not on our side," he said. "The sooner we clear you both of suspicion, the better. Tonks has agreed to assist on this matter."
"What about the Newtypes?" Sirius pressed. "Won't they suspect something? After all, Duo is…"
"Duo did not know he was a Newtype before he came to us," Dumbledore assuaged. "He likely slipped through their tracking systems during the muggle war. To their government, he should be considered a muggle."
Remus smoothed out the sheets once more. "Yes, yes of course," he murmured. "His information… He had some documents in his belongings, she'll have to know some of his basic personal information…"
Harry dreams.
"No."
The word comes from his lips, voice startlingly high-pitched and young. The resolution in the word, however, is steel; he is uncompromising, shoulders set and straight, eyes forward, scowl twisted on his lips. His body aches, in innumerable places and in innumerable degrees, but this is nothing new. It is a mild inconvenience at worst, and pales in comparison to the feel of the gun gripped in his hand.
"No?" is echoed back at him from a smiling face. Russet-brown hair is sheared close to scalp, eyebrows drawn over sharp eyes of a matching color, dark stubble dusted over a broad chin. He's a tall, domineering figure; he has to be, in order to have the scattered group of men, women, and children listen to his orders.
It is not physical appearance alone that generates such controlling fear, though, evident by the child kneeled between them. He is sobbing silently, hair so matted and dirty it was hard to tell the original color, leg bent at an angle that bone stabbed through flesh in a gaping wound.
"Yer too naïve," the man says, eyes never once leaving his own. "Ya know better than anyone what happens if we leave him 'ere, don'tcha?"
The knowledge comes unbidden: leave him alive and he tattles to the enemy. Bring him along alive and he will either die slowly en route, or carrying his weight will slow their movements enough that the enemy may be able to find them, and he dies anyway.
"It's a mercy t' end it here," the man continues.
"I dun wan'a die!" the child cries.
A woman steps up; her face is almost cold in expression, but her eyes are stormy. "Let me do it," she says, and she keeps moving closer – not between the crying child and the man, but between him and the child. Trying to block him from view, trying to keep him out of it. "We're wastin' time."
"He needs t' learn," another argues. They are referring to him, because to them, the injured child is already dead – there is no need to argue the life of a corpse.
"And he will!" the woman snaps back. "Later, for as long as Van wants! But we need t' get a move on!"
The man – Van – snorts. "Is that why yer shielding 'im, Elle?"
Elle is tense and stiff between them, but she does not move. "Van," she says, and her voice has dropped, almost pleading. "He's too useful. We need 'im alive."
"He can pick locks," Van retorts, voice droll. "Any street rat can do that."
"He can do more than that," she argues. "He's quick. He's smart. We show 'im something once and he remembers it perfectly. He broke into that Alliance weapons store in under 5 minutes. We hadn't been able t' get in 20 feet of that place for months."
The child's sobbing has tapered into silent trembling, too sick and exhausted to carry on. He knows there's no hope for him, knows it the same way that if their positions had been reversed, the boy would have pulled the trigger without daring to speak up on his behalf.
"We need t' get a move on. Just let me finish this," Elle says.
Van's eyes cut back over to him. "Did'ja hear that, kid? Yer gonna let some'un finish yer job?"
"I hope you die," Harry spits back.
This only makes a few of them chuckle, Van included.
"Think yer god will grant tha' for ya, if ya pray hard enough?" Van asks.
There's an itching at the base of his scalp, a tense sense of expectation spreading down to his shoulders and steeling his spine. This is the only warning he gets before the whir of blades chopping through the air and a high-pitched whistle reaches the ears of everyone present, but not quick enough to avoid what happens next.
The ground explodes around their feet. He's lifted off his own, the force wrenching him away with an unseen sucker punch of air. The air is choked by dust and debris, filling his face and he unwillingly closes his eyes to keep them clear. It almost feels like he's twisted out of shape by the momentum, but his feet find ground again and he opens his eyes once more to slightly clearer air.
He'd somehow been thrown so far away that the ground he's laid on is smooth and untouched by the destruction. He doesn't think about that, doesn't even seem to notice how his body feels alight with some unnamed sensation that leaves pinpricks across his skin. Instead he pushes himself forward, back to the site of impact where the great cloud of dust and debris originated.
His eyes find the bodies but he doesn't process them for long. They are broken and shattered beyond repair, an occasional stray limb coming into hard focus before he finds the rest. There are weak moans, but they belong to dying bodies that he cannot help, so he moves on.
The child is dead. The woman, Elle, is dead.
Van is not.
But he is close to it. The sharp end of a metal pipe juts out of his chest where his left lung should be, and though his eyes are open and hazed with pain, they are aware enough to catch his own. He can't help but move closer, hear the blood-wet rattling of the man's heavy breaths as death inches closer.
"Why…" the man chokes out. "Why…are ya…okay?"
He looks away from Van, spots the large piece of rubble by his own feet. He swipes a long strand of hair back behind his ear, then reaches down and grabs the rock with unscathed hands. The faint injuries from before are no longer there.
The rock is heavy in his hands, heavier than the gun had been.
"Why…only you…?"
He brings the rubble down against flesh, feels the crunch of bone as the blow smashes through the cranium, blood bursting against his hands and across his face, stray drops falling against his open mouth.
"It's—"
Harry jerked awake, words that tasted like iron on the tip of his tongue.
"—a mercy t' end it here."
"A bit posh, isn't it?"
Remus's lips twitched upwards at the muttered comment, chancing a glance to his side when his shoulder was lightly bumped in a gesture of moral support. It wasn't the nimble form of Tonks beside him though, but the slim figure of his son dressed in the usual priest's clothes. The accent on those simple words was clear, though, and yet so at odds with the face Remus usually associated it with.
It couldn't be helped. Tonks's voice was distinct despite the form she'd undertaken, but there wasn't much to help that aside from a charm that made it sound more masculine. It would work for now, given that they would only be dealing with strangers and submitting paperwork to otherwise indifferent and ignorant authorities – but it irked Remus in a way, to have a friend wear the guise of his son like a costume.
Despite her father being Muggleborn, Tonks also had little exposure to the Muggle world outside of the occasional visit to Teddy Tonks's parents every other year. They were too old by the start of the Eve Wars and Teddy Tonks was too removed from the Muggle realm to be involved, so everything involving the muggle war and post-war reconstruction efforts were left largely unknown to her.
"It's newly-built," Remus answered quietly. The gleaming, foreboding expanse of the London Preventers Branch Office loomed before them now, 10 stories of plaster, marble, and glass lit up like a beacon. Some people were loitering about outside, either employees on a break or civilians out for a breath of fresh air in the expansive courtyard, but Remus only glanced over them carefully. None paid them any special attention as they passed, Tonks a step behind him, maintaining a cheerful smile.
The lobby was mildly populated at this time of day, small clusters of people talking to each other, spread out over the plush lounge chairs and sofas. The dark marble counter separating the lobby area from the employees was manned by several people in professional attire, a large sign denoting them as the 'Check-In Counter'. He passed the Office Directory Map with just a glance, only confirming that the building was ten stories.
Fortunately, none of the people in the lobby paid them much mind as they headed to the counter. It had been a worry that, with his face plastered all over the muggle news, it would be difficult to get to Preventers unhindered. This is the reason they'd decided on going to the London Branch instead of his local Preventers Office; Dumbledore feared that the Ministry was keeping an eye on local muggle authorities in the Yorkshire area, on the lookout for Remus so that they could apprehend him first. By going to the premier Preventers Branch Office for the British Isles, Remus could essentially nip the trouble in the bud while going under the Ministry's nose.
They approached the one receptionist, a young dark-haired man with glasses and placid expression, his nametag labeling him as 'R. Hughes'. Remus saw the moment the other male recognized his face from Preventers own emergency broadcast, but to his credit, he only turned away from his computer screen to give them his full attention as they drew near.
"Good afternoon," Remus greeted, giving the young man what he hoped was a friendly smile. "We're here to… Well, I'm not quite sure, but Preventers asked us to come."
The other male's hands, previously hidden behind the panels of his desk, returned to view in order to work at his computer keyboard. "Your name?"
"My name is Remus Lupin, and this is my son, Duo Maxwell." Tonks gave a little wave and bright smile in greeting.
The receptionist seemed to be entering this information in the keyboard, his expression never veering from static boredom. A colleague nearby was caught by the exchange and was staring unabashedly at them, though, and someone who appeared to be a higher-up was moving in their direction with determined steps.
"Mr. Remus Lupin?" this authority figure checked, glancing over her employee's screen before looking at Remus. Her nametag designated her as an administrative assistant, 'R. Singh'.
Remus kept his friendly look as he gave a nod. "Yes, I came today because I believe your agency wanted to ask me some questions…?"
"Yes, yes that's correct," Singh replied. She was looking over Duo now, continually glancing at the computer screen the receptionist was still typing away for. Remus couldn't help but tense – were the lobby personnel privy to what should have been sensitive information about an ongoing Preventers case? Was Duo Maxwell assumed dead, so that his appearance now was some great shock?
"Can we please see your IDs?" Hughes asked.
Remus proffered his own, a standard British passport he'd been using when travelling along Muggles. Tonks handed over Duo's own colony ID card, which they'd found among his belongings stashed under his bed. Remus had been disturbed to see that it was one of many that Duo carried, and they could not be certain of the legitimacy – but it was the only one that matched the info Remus had been given by the FRA, which claimed Duo to be a citizen of L2-V08744.
"This passport is out-of-date," Hughes, the receptionist, said. He flipped it open, checking the contents with a critical eye. "The independent state of the United Kingdom was abolished following the establishment of ESUN."
"I know, but I haven't got anything more recent," Remus explained. "I don't travel much out of the country, you see."
Singh waved it off with a smile. "That's understandable. People are still transitioning to the new identification system. Go ahead and put it in, Robyn," she said.
Hughes was quick to input the information, also photocopying their IDs. "Standard procedure," Singh explained. She turned her eyes to Tonks, still half a step behind Remus and just visible past his shoulder.
"You're from L2, huh? That's quite a flight to make," she said. Her tone was casual, indicating that this was just small talk – but even that could be dangerous for them. If Tonks let slip information that contradicted Duo's upbringing in the space colonies, it could alert them to some suspicion.
"I don't mind traveling," Tonks replied brightly, in a passable American accent. She'd charmed her voice to sound more masculine; though it did not match Duo's voice, it was still passably masculine, which would be enough to answer questions by people who did not know Duo personally. "'Sides, it was an opportunity I couldn't miss! It's not every day you find out you got a father."
Singh glanced once more at the computer monitor. "Oh, that's right, you met through the FRA," she verified. "Congratulations on that!"
Hughes returned with their ID cards, handing them to Singh who passed them back to Remus. "Thank you for coming in! Go ahead and take a seat in the lobby area. An agent from your case will come down shortly to escort you up."
"Thank you," Remus said, taking the cards and handing Tonks Duo's as he led her to a seating area close by, facing the Check-In counter. Some of the receptionists were whispering to each other, throwing an occasional glance in Remus's direction, and both Singh and Hughes had left their stations and disappeared into the backrooms meant for employees only.
"Think they're suspicious?" Tonks whispered, sitting beside him.
Remus sighed. "Undoubtedly, but everything about this is suspicious," he replied just as quietly. "We just have to stick to our story."
They had, of course, gone through their story multiple times to ensure nothing was left up to suspicion. The day the Ironworkers Guesthouses were attacked, they had not even been in town – 'Duo' having expressed an interest in camping that Remus was happy to oblige. They even had a few witnesses at a nearby camping site that had been charmed to remember them during the times of the attack, and the distance between the Guesthouses and the campsite were so great that it would be impossible for them to be there.
From the campsite, they'd went to London to spend time in a major city, and Remus had rented a room from a cheap inn that accepted cash payments, the owners of which had also been charmed. Remus had had no idea he was wanted for questioning until the Preventers' broadcast but he hurried to comply, which is why they were showing up at the London Branch Office.
Tonks stood, Remus catching the tail-end of her braid on reflex. "Where-"
She tugged the braid out of his hold, turning to give him a wink. "I'm a teenage boy, Remus," she murmured, continuing at a more audible volume. "I'm bo~ored!"
Remus could understand her acting – teens were restless and easily riled. It would be stranger if she sat complacent by his side the entire time, so he only watched as she ambled over to the magazine rack nearby. He tensed immediately, however, when another boy also idled his way to Tonks's side, attention focused on the magazines but giving Tonks obvious glances. He couldn't be much older than Duo, brown hair swept over half his face, donned in plain jeans and a dark green turtleneck.
"Their collection is rather dry," the boy said, eyes leaving the magazines to focus on Tonks directly.
Tonks, startled by the attention, turned wide violet eyes on him but was quick to hide it with a smile. "Yeah, hopefully this doesn't take long," she commiserated.
The other boy smiled, leaning a bit more into Tonks's personal space. Remus's anxiety was quickly morphing into irritation as he recognized the body language – Merlin knows he'd seen it enough as a teen, watching Sirius flirt with anyone who grabbed his fancy.
"I guess it depends on what you're here for," the other boy said. "I'm here for the FRA."
"Oh, me too!" Tonks pointed in Remus's direction. "Turns out I have a father."
Remus knew he didn't look nearly as friendly as he did when he was talking to the receptionist, so he was a bit surprised that the other boy just glanced him over dismissively. "I have a sister myself," he said, his attention back on Tonks. "You'll never guess what her job is."
Tonks blinked up, taken in by the mischievous twist to the boy's smile. "What is it?"
"Circus performer. She throws knives at people, sometimes blindfolded."
Tonks's reaction was appropriately awed, but rather than looking vindicated by the attention, the other boy's smile was slowly disappearing. "I'm Trowa Barton," he introduced himself, leaned once more into Tonks's personal space.
"Oh, uh," Tonks stuttered. "I'm Duo. Duo Maxwell."
Trowa's teasing smile was back. "Are you a local? Your accent…"
"Oh, no. I'm from L2V-08744. And you?"
"L3," Trowa replied promptly. "But I've been travelling the Earth Sphere for awhile now."
"That's so cool! I'd love to travel more," Tonks rushed out. "I just went camping with my father recently, which was pretty fun. I didn't get to do a lot of that back up there."
"I've never been to L2 myself. Not a lot of camping opportunities?" Trowa asked.
Tonks seemed relieved that the boy had professed not knowing a lot about where she was supposedly from. This would help her sell the look, although Remus wished she'd stop answering this random teen's flirtations while wearing his son's face.
"Oh, well, I just didn't really have the time," she said. "I'm more of an indoor person, you know?"
Trowa nodded agreeably. "Computers or game consoles?"
"Oh, uh, books. I'm not that good with computers or technology in general. Just going to stick with good ol' paper and binding."
Trowa made a noncommittal noise, looking over Tonks once again before turning back to the magazine rack. He pulled up a magazine on what looked to be wildlife, flipping it open to a random page. "To each his own. A bit traditional, though," he replied.
The comment was almost derisive, but Tonks could not hope to reply – as an agent by the open double-doors called them over the intercom system. "Mr. Lupin and Mr. Maxwell?"
Remus stood, Tonks quick to bid her new acquaintance a harried goodbye as she followed him. The agent by the door smiled at them as they approached, light brown hair pulled into two twists on either side of her face. Her smile brightened as her dark blue eyes landed on Tonks, almost subconsciously gentling – Remus pegged her as having a fondness for kids. He'd seen something similar in the eyes of some of the staff at Hogwarts.
"Follow me, right this way," she said, leading them past the double-doors and through a smaller room. It was devoid of people, a desk and metal archway left unused as she led them past it. "I'm Agent Water. How are you two doing today?"
They gave noncommittal answers. She took them to an elevator bank, pulling out a green card that activated the lift to take them to the seventh floor. It opened into a spacious hallway, closed doors on either side that had nameplates and their associated titles printed on plaques, turning down to another corridor at the end.
They were led down several hallways, far longer and more spacious than the building suggested from its exterior appearance. Agent Water didn't seem anxious, keeping up light chatter as they followed her, but Remus felt a creeping sense of unease at another turn into a hallway just as spacious as the last, also lined with closed office doors.
Finally, after what felt like way more walking than was warranted, Agent Water turned into a hallway with two office doors cracked open, set directly across from each other. She drew to a stop before the one on their left, pushing it fully open so they could see inside. It was a rather bare room, window-less and empty aside from a table with two metallic chairs on either side, neither occupied by the only person standing inside.
It was a young man – no, practically a boy, closer in age to Duo and Harry rather than the young receptionist in the lobby. He seemed to be of Chinese descent, black hair pulled back into a punishing ponytail, wearing the same uniform as Agent Water herself. He was already glowering by the time Agent Water had opened the door, standing beside the chair closest to the door, a clear indication someone was to take the seat opposite.
"This is my partner, Agent Zero-Five," Agent Water introduced, voice still light and friendly. Nothing odd about a young boy as an active Preventers Agent, it seemed to suggest. Remus did not know a lot about the organization that the muggles had set up to prevent another war, but he didn't realize they'd employed actual children. "Mr. Lupin, please go ahead and take a seat."
"What about me?" Tonks piped up.
"You'll be in the other room, Mr. Maxwell," Agent Water replied, going across the hall and pushing open the other door. It was almost exactly the same set-up, with a matching agent waiting inside – only this agent was actually familiar to Remus.
Another boy in the Preventers uniform, the same age as Agent Zero-Five, as Duo. His hair was dark brown and wild, with piercing blue eyes set in a face that betrayed no emotion. Unlike the amiable Agent Water, or the stern Agent Zero-Five – Remus knew his name.
Heero.
The full weight of the wrongness of the situation finally crashed down on him. The winding corridors that had no business being in modern muggle architecture, the lack of security checkpoints that would have been mandatory in a government building, the sharp tingle at the base of his spine like his instincts sensed something amiss that he could not – it all created a picture that Remus was seeing too little, too late.
"Wait-" he started to say. Tonks was already stepping into the room. Remus reached out for her arm, intent on tugging her back to his side, a hundred and one excuses on the tip of his tongue to get her out of here – but he was too late, a hand grasping him by his upper arm and yanking him through the door behind him, slamming shut after his entry. A similar strangled cry in Tonks's disguised voice followed by a slammed door suggested she'd gone through something similar.
Remus found himself practically thrown into the chair opposite the young Agent. A black screen at the other end of the room blazed to life, alight with green digital script, and what felt like a sudden rush of gravitational force momentarily knocked the air out of his lungs.
"What you just felt were the magic nullification wards being activated," Zero-Five said, tone cold and clipped. He did not take his seat, instead towering ominously on the other side of the table. "You will not be able to use your wand. You will not be able to Apparate. If there is any indication you are using wandless magic, you will be physically restrained and personally warded. Do you understand?"
"You're…" Remus choked out, wide-eyed. "You're Newtypes."
That seemed to be enough of an answer for the boy. "Remus Lupin, you are here for questioning in an ongoing Preventers case. If you lie, or if you are in any way dishonest with us, you will be subjected to the full extent of the law as an Earth Sphere citizen. You will answer our questions, to the best of your ability, or you will be charged with obstruction of justice. Do you understand?"
"I- Of course, I understand but-" Remus began.
Zero-Five's eyes were hard flints of onyx in an otherwise impassive face.
"Then tell me - where is Duo Maxwell?"
A/N: If you thought they were angry before, they're absolutely livid now… And this is the first glimpse of Newtype magical inventions: the "black screen with green digital script." We're crawling our way to technomagic/technomancy!
-Can you guess what identity checks Tonks failed? ;)
And! Within the next one or two chapters (depending on how long the GW boys bully Remus), you'll finally find out what happened between Heero and Duo! For those of you who were worried you somehow missed out on that explanation. ( ‾̀◡‾́)
Please be kind and drop a review! :)
