Ch 52 - Premonition

"Again!"

Emmeline wiped sweat from her brow as she lumbered back to her feet, readying her wand in front of her for what felt like the hundredth time.

Mad-Eye hardly gave her a moment to catch her breath before hurling non-stop spells. Emmeline's sore muscles could not keep up with his pace, and she resorted exclusively to shield charms. Deciding to take a chance, she momentarily broke her protego streak to throw a body-bind curse, but in her haste, missed Alastor entirely. This left her vulnerable to yet another round of Alastor's imperius.

The curse hit her right in the chest, but didn't hurt. In fact, it felt divine - it instantly sent her into a state of tingly relaxation, where a silky, soothing voice vaguely reminiscent of her mother's began to instruct her: "Lay down on the ground and rest."

Why shouldn't she? She remembered being very tired before this…

"C'mon Vance...fight it," Alastor grunted from what seemed like miles away.

Emmeline stood rigid, half of her muscles ready to lower to the ground and the other half trying to keep her up. She didn't want to fight anymore. She was tired and having a hard time remembering what she and Alastor were working towards anyway…

"Lay down on the ground," the voice beckoned again.

"FIGHT IT!"

She didn't want to go back to the fatigue and the dull ache in her chest.

And slowly began to sink to her knees.

The rest of her hit the ground with a thud as Alastor released her from the curse. She grunted an expletive.

"That's not good enough yet."

"Again!" she demanded.

"Take a break, Vance. You've done enough for the day."

"I don't need a break. Nobody's ever given me a break in a real fight." She lurched back to her feet and flung a curse at him, which he dodged. With a flourish of his wrist, she was quickly knocked back to the ground.

"You know as well as I do that in a real fight, you'd be dead or doing the bidding of your opponent by now. And I wasn't asking," he reprimanded, approaching and offering to help her up. She swatted his hand away and sat up on the floor.

"You never made me train this hard for the imperius before."

"New protocol. Allegedly, Mulciber Jr. was using it a whole hell of a lot more than we thought," Moody grumbled vexedly. "At least, that's the codswallop they've all been spewing at their trials, and the 'gamot laps it up like cream in a dish."

Emmeline rolled her eyes. "If it's codswallop, why am I here and not in the field already? I've been in this fight for years. I know what I'm doing."

"You'll be out there soon enough." he assured her. "Go to your poisons and antidotes session tonight, then take tomorrow off."

Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "Take tomorrow- that's the last thing I need!" And the last thing she wanted.

"Your mental defenses are weak because your mind is tired. I can't make any progress with you like this. You've been here from dusk till dawn for the last month and you need to go home and get a proper rest."

It was true that she hadn't been home much in the last month. Home had not been a comfortable place to be. Her and Remus were obviously still struggling after Halloween, but she was still so angry-

Her protestation was interrupted when the door to the training chamber swung open. Alice Longbottom rushed in, her face grave, and her husband close at her heels. "Mad-Eye, we got word on where Travers and Mulciber are hiding."

Emmeline shot up off the floor. She'd dreamt of facing off with those two in particular.

Alastor made for the door as fast as his leg would carry him. "Perhaps we'll just ask Mulciber ourselves. Gather a team. We leave immediately."

"About that, we-"

"Are we going to arrest them?" Emmeline called, chasing after them.

"The Longbottoms and I are going to arrest them, you're going to your session."
"A death eater has never once tried to poison me, I don't need-"

"Don't talk back to me Vance, I'm not your Father. I'm your superior."

Emmeline ignored the sharp sting of that one and continued to trail behind as they made their way back to the second floor of the Ministry.

"I want Shacklebolt and Bones with us."

"Kingsley's still on assignment in Albania, and Amelia's off today for her niece's second birthday," said Frank.

"I certainly did not approve of that absence-"

"Moody, take me with you, please-"

"McCoy and Khan, then."

"They've got night patrols at Malfoy Manor for Lucius' house arrest," said Alice.

"Bollocks!"

"Everyone is spread out in search of other wanted death eaters," Frank griped.

"I told Crouch that divide and conquer was a shite approach!"

"ALASTOR!"

The three aurors jumped and spun around, gawking at their trainee.

"Take me with you. Let me prove to you that I'm ready," Emmeline pleaded.

Alice and Frank shared a sideways smile.

"...Wait for us in my office," Moody bade them. They nodded, Alice winked at Emmeline, and they were off.

"Does this mean I'm coming with you?"

"Do you remember what I asked you at the funeral?" Alastor questioned.

Bloodthirst. That's what she could feel rising in her chest now.

Emmeline swallowed and fumbled her words. "About…Which question-"

"I'm not thick, Vance. You know which question. The one you answered with a lie."

Her jaw hung slightly. "...If you knew I lied, why did you-"

"Because you've earned your chance to be here, and I need you with us. But if I take you on this operation today, I cannae have any accidents. I'm already on thin ice with Crouch, and your employment is still provisional until you've completed your training. So no. accidents. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she answered - a reflex.

"I mean it."

"I understand. No accidents."

She followed Alastor as he turned and stalked to his office, strategizing.

All she needed was the right moment.

Emmeline's black Ministry cloak fluttered behind her as she followed Alastor through the gates of the firewhisky distillery.

Alice and Frank had gone ahead of them to stake out any traps or alarms planted around the property, but had given the "all clear." Now it was only a matter of finding Mulciber and Travers…

Aside from the Longbottoms, Alastor had split the rest of them into two groups of three; one group entering the front gate, and the other entering around the back so nobody could sneak out under their noses. Anti-disapparition jinxes were put in place from both sides.

Alastor, Emmeline, and an auror named Dawlish moved furtively across the lawn to the loading dock on the right face of the building. This facility had been dilapidated for some time now - ever since Ogdens had taken over the firewhisky market, smaller, family-owned brands had mostly halted production, choosing either to pivot or sell to one of the bigger brands. In their briefing, Emmeline had learned that this distillery, though no longer in operation, was still property of the Travers family, and that one particular ancestor had raged against the tide of the corporate monopoly simply because the Ogden family had not remained pure of blood. "No matter," Emmeline thought. "Blood-traitor is a convenient thing to cry when someone makes better firewhisky than you do."

It was nearly midnight, and bitter December cold permeated the wool of Emmeline's new cloak, though she could hardly feel it. She was more focused on the fact that she was…oddly excited. Thrilled, even. It was quite a rush to be back in the field.

She'd gone over the ways she could kill Travers and Mulciber in her head. She'd imagined it hundreds of different times by now. If this cost her the auror job, so be it. It would be worth it for the Potters and Marley and Dorcas and the Prewetts and the Bones' and Benjy, and Alastor…Alastor would understand. Accidents happen, even when they're not supposed to.

When her pod had reached the exterior of the loading bay, Dawlish broke off to peer around the building's corner. It did not take long for him to receive the necessary signal.

"Scrimgeour and the others are in place," he whispered.

"Now we just wait on the Longbottoms," Alastor responded.

And so they waited.

Emmeline's gaze fell on a shack down the lawn, perhaps a guard house or an outpost for the groundskeeper. It appeared empty…

Or…

Had she just seen a turn of a cloak in the window?

She rubbed her eyes. It was entirely possible she was seeing things. It was dark out and she was quite tired. But…

She squinted, looking to see if it had perhaps been a curtain.

And then she saw a distinct human form dash from the window.

Her heart began to pound. "They're not in the distillery," she muttered as she paced away from the wall.

"Vance, get your arse back here-"

"They're not in the distillery!" She bellowed, breaking into a sprint.

"VANCE!" Alastor called after her.

She tuned out Alastor's voice as she ran, barging through the door of the guardhouse and nearly tumbling head first down an open shaft that led underground. She could hear footsteps plodding down the ladder and followed the sound. Firing a curse down the tunnel would be too risky; it could ricochet and hit her rather than her target. She descended two rungs at a time.

When she at last reached the bottom, she found herself in a chamber of sorts, and noted shelves of supplies and a half-eaten can of preserved pears on a table with some chairs around it. They'd burrowed underground like that cowards they were and turned this place into a bunker.

Footsteps echoed from the tunnel at the other end of the antichamber. They were trying to tunnel their way out from under the disapparition jinxes.

Emmeline started towards the footsteps, but her shoulder was grazed by something - not a light, but a distinct and all-too-familiar ripple through the atmosphere…then, all of the sudden, she felt quite warm and relaxed…

An imperius curse had hit her, she realized, as Mulciber crept out from behind one of the shelving units and into her view. She watched numbly as he recognized who he'd ensnared, and smirked.

She had the urge to drop her wand…no, she couldn't do that, she needed it to…what did she need her wand for again? The inclination to drop it was now compounded with the temptation to follow Mulciber up and out of the bunker…

"Fight it," she could imagine Moody's voice saying. "Fight it."

So she did. She had to if she wanted to accomplish her task. She ignored the warmth, declined the urges, and shut off the temptations. She did drop her wand - so that Mulciber would think his curse had overtaken her. And just when he thought he had her, just as he turned toward the ladder, she dropped to snatch her wand back up. With a swish and flick of her wrist, she levitated one of the wooden chairs and threw it straight into his temple. Mulciber was knocked to the floor, unconscious. The warmth subsided.

This was her opportunity she thought, looming over his still frame and raising her wand. Self defense, she'd say to the Wizengamot. It was only an accident-

"VANCE!" Moody shouted down the shaft. "Sound off if you weren't stupid enough to get yourself killed!" He spat angrily.

His voice was growing closer, as were other pairs of feet moving down the ladder. She swore, looking between Mulciber and the tunnel she'd heard Travers run down…

If she had to pick between the two of them…yes, it had to be Travers. Mulciber was right here, but Travers had gotten Marlene.

The footsteps down the shaft grew louder, so she ran down the tunnel.

It was a straight shot, so she didn't have to search multiple directions, she only had to catch up.

Which she did.

The tunnel's construction had been incomplete, it seemed, as she found Travers moving earth by means of magic in a feeble attempt to dig far enough to disapparate. When he heard her close in, he turned, not quickly enough though- Emmeline had disarmed him before he saw who'd done it. His wand hit the roof of the tunnel and skittered behind Emmeline. Travers had the most delicious fear in his eyes.

He must have drawn the conclusion as to why she alone had chased him this far. "...You're here to kill me, aren't you?"

She didn't quite know how to respond to him, so she said nothing, her wand raised and at the ready.

"It won't bring your friends back," he taunted, though his voice was wavering. "Not the Prewetts, not the McKinnons-"

"Keep their names out of your mouth!" she roared, and before he could blink, she was on him, the ruff of his cloak in her hand and her wand jammed against his throat.

An accident…She could pass it off as an accident…She'd used the spell before…

Travers sensed her hesitation. "Just do it if you're going to do it!"

C'mon, form the words…you know the incantation…

"You're weak. Weaker than McKinnon was."

"Shut up."

"She'd have killed me with her bare hands if I'd given her the chance. But I had her squealing like a stuck pig before the end."

"AVAD-"

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

Her wand came flying out of her grip. In the next instant, Travers was in a body-bind curse, and Alastor had flung her against the wall of the tunnel.

"ARE YOU MAD, OR JUST STUPID?"

"I HAD HIM!" she screamed, squirming under his grip.

"I THOUGHT I MADE IT VERY CLEAR THAT I DID NOT HIRE YOU TO BE AN ASSASSIN! HE NEEDS TO BE BROUGHT IN FOR QUESTIONING!"

"HE NEEDS TO PAY FOR WHAT HE-"

"AND HE WILL! BUT IT'S NOT THE JOB OF AN AUROR TO DECIDE WHO GETS TO LIVE AND WHO GETS TO DIE!"

Dawlish and Scrimgeour had followed Mad-Eye, and were now collecting Travers to bring him to the surface. Emmeline huffed and puffed, watching them carry him away, feeling like she'd thrown away her opportunity.

"You've killed death eaters in the field before," she shot back.

"Aye, off duty and as a member of the Order. For resisting arrest. Looked to me like Travers had nowhere to run. Don't you remember the speech I gave you all after we fought at the Minister's Manor? That curse should always be reserved as a last resort."

After a few tense moments, Mad-Eye released her from his grip, but remained close to her face, scolding her. "We're not at war anymore, and you're no longer a soldier. You're a law enforcement agent. If you ever disobey me like that again, I'll sack you myself. Get that lesson through your thick skull, and this time, it'd better stick."

Emmeline met his gaze, surprised. "...You're not going to fire me?"

"No, but I am going to make sure your training's a living nightmare until you learn to follow orders. And you'll not be put on another field assignment until you can let go of some of that anger you're holding on to."

She shook her head indignantly. "You can't ask me to do that, because that anger for the people we've lost is why I'm here. It's why I'm doing this."

Mad-Eye looked her over, and huffed a sigh. "...Then I made a mistake in hiring you, and I can only pray you figure out a better reason to be here." he said, turning and heading back towards the antichamber disappointedly.

She resented him for being the bigger person. "Isn't that why you do it?" she called to him down the tunnel.

He didn't even bother to face her fully. "There's a difference between fighting for the people you've lost, and fighting because of your anger over them. Until you learn the difference, you can't be one of my aurors." On his way, he crouched down (with some difficulty) and picked her wand up off the ground, stashing it in his coat pocket. "Cool off before you come back up. And just so we're perfectly clear, that's an order."

Emmeline crouched against the wall of the tunnel, still panting from her sprint. Alastor had no right to lecture-...he…he didn't understand, he wasn't…

She looked down at her hands…

A lifetime ago, she'd killed a death eater to save her friend. It had made her sick and haunted her dreams for weeks after the fact. And even though she'd hesitated today…she didn't think those things would have happened if Moody hadn't caught her in time. She probably would have gone home and not lost a bit of sleep over what she'd done. No remorse, no value for human life…the war had ripped those things out of her.

All she could think…if she could see her now…

…Lily would have been disgusted with her…

"How does that make us any better than them?" she'd asked once.

Her friend's question clanged through her ears.

She was back up on the lawn before she realized she'd walked herself out of the bunker. Both Mulciber and Travers were disarmed, bound, and on their knees, being overseen by Dawlish and Scrimgeour while reinforcements from the ministry combed the rest of the distillery. Alastor stood nearby, giving instructions to other personnel who'd just arrived.

Emmeline stared at the pair of death eaters, trying to dredge up some feeling towards them other than utter apathy for their lives. Perhaps not quite empathy, but at least a recognition of their humanity…what would Lily have done?

Travers noticed her staring, and began muttering to Mulciber, who chuckled darkly.

She searched herself, but the only thing the search turned up was the bloodthirst. She still desperately wanted to kill the pair of them…

"Alastor, training question."

"Aye."

"What is the Ministry policy on punching an apprehended target?"

"...What?"

Emmeline strode purposefully over to Travers, lifted him up by the ruff to face her, and socked him straight in the nose. Travers recoiled, sputtering and cursing as Emmeline shoved him back onto the floor. "That's the swing Marlene should've gotten to take at you, you son of a bitch."

Probably not that. Lily probably would not have condoned that.

"Vance," Alastor warned, making his way over to pull her off of him, but she was already backing up.

"Technically, nobody told me not to do that." The lone punch would have to suffice for now.

"You're testing my patience today," Alastor growled with a finger pointed menacingly at her face - though she suspected he hadn't intervened sooner on purpose.

"Hey Vance," Mulciber growled from his knees.

Emmeline stood up straight and obliged her former classmate's attention, against her better judgment. "Something to say, Donovan?"

"...I'm going to kill you," he cooed through a smirk which would've made any decent person's skin crawl. "Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I'm going to finish what I started back in July."

"...I expect that'll be very difficult to manage from your cell in Azkaban."

He lunged for her, but his restraints kept him at bay. "Mudblood bitch!"

"Death eater scum."

"Alright, that's enough outta you," Alastor said, grabbing her by the shoulders and moving her away.

But that was just it, wasn't it? If all went according to plan and the Wizengamot actually did its job…Mulciber would get a cell in Azkaban, as would Travers. And they'd sit. And they'd rot. Forever.

And if she couldn't kill them…well that sounded just fine to Emmeline, she supposed.

As if he'd followed her train of thought, Moody handed back her wand with cautious optimism. "You had a good eye tonight, but you defied orders and almost went on a spree. You're not ready."

"I resisted an imperius curse, too." she said flatly. "That should count for something."

Moody's eye widened. "...You what?"

"Mulciber tried to use an imperius curse on me, but I resisted it."

He turned away from her, his glass eye darting back and forth across the grounds.

"You don't have to look quite so surprised."

"Stop talking," he barked, his gaze still shifting rapidly around his aurors. He was conducting a headcount.

That's when she realized something was wrong.

"Why would Mulciber use an imperius curse when he could have just killed you?" he asked, turning back to her.

Emmeline's stomach sank. She hadn't even thought of that…

"What did he want you to do?"

"...He just wanted me to follow him out…"

Moody counted his people one more time.

The table in the bunker…there had been at least six chairs.

"Do you think there were more of them here?" Emmeline asked.

"Dawlish," Moody called. "Is everyone we brought with us accounted for?"

"I haven't seen the Longbottoms back, yet."

Emmeline shifted towards Mulciber, who was still smirking…

"SPREAD OUT AND FIND ALICE AND FRANK LONGBOTTOM!" Moody exploded, outstretching his wand.

"They're long gone by now," Mulciber muttered.

Moody whipped around to him.

"What are you talking about?" Scrimgeour questioned, kneeing him in the back.

Mulciber only laughed.