Chapter 51 - Killing Intent
Harry gulped slightly as he followed Anya into an apartment. Everything about her seemed more cold and calculated than usual, it seemed oddly familiar. Harry assumed it was in the memories she had covered in his mind. As they entered, he was met with two other teenagers. Both of them were dressed in grey grabs with ballistic vests, rifles slung over their shoulders. Once again, Harry found the sight oddly familiar, he had seen this before.
"What's he doing here?" said the brown-haired teen, the Asian one opting to remain silent.
"Fuck if I know," Anya shrugged. "I just received your owl an hour ago."
"Why are you here?" the other teen asked Harry.
"I wanted to help Anne," Harry replied.
"No offence Potter," said the brown-haired teen. "You're not going to be able to keep up with us. Anya, why'd you even-"
"Just bring him along," Anya said tersely. "We can run on pairs, I'd have an eye on my back."
"Yeah, sure," the teen snorted, the scepticism clear in his voice. "He'd do fine against Spooks. We're not burning warehouses, Anya."
"Jen, bring out some spare gear," Anya turned away, turning to the other teen before heading to what Harry assumed to be her bedroom.
The brown-haired teen sighed, running his fingers through his messy hair.
"This is stupid," he muttered, shaking his head and bringing up a finger. "Dimitri. Jen. I'm giving you a few minutes to put everything on, we're in a rush."
The one named Jen handed him a ballistic vest along with various other equipment, from a gas mask to a sash of potions. Some of it felt weird, but as Harry worked the straps of the ballistic vest, he knew he had done this before. Anya reappeared as he was halfway through putting the items Jen had given him, now dressed in the same fashion as the other two and a scoped rifle slung over her shoulder. As she made her way over, Dimitri grabbed her arm and pulled her aside. Harry could catch a quick exchange in Russian, but was obviously unable to make sense of the conversation.
"Noted," Anya switched back to English, a frown on her face. "Back to the situation at hand, what's going on?"
"Just following a lead," Dimitri answered with a shrug. "Aleks has given us quite a long leash and there's no way Jen and I are conducting a raid with just two people. "
"One of the safehouses we were scouting back in the summer?" Anya asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Spot on," Dimitri grinned.
"You do realise we'd still likely be outnumbered," Anya frowned.
"No, the lead was first given by Mikhail," Dimitri shook his head. "Jen and I did a quick survey of the place this evening. It's lightly manned, we can expect three to five. It's not going to be an issue when we have the element of surprise."
"Famous last words," Jen snorted, summoning a map with a flick of his wand and spreading it out on the table. "Back to topic, it's the one in Sheffield. Two houses, separated by a street and local park, each being able to provide cover for the other."
"Pairs?" Anya crossed her arms.
Harry watched as the other two teens exchanged glances before giving Anya a nod.
"You and Potter can take this one," Jen's finger jabbed onto the map. "This should be the floor plan for the house based on what we could get from the local council. Mind you, it could already be modified."
"Harry, you'd better memorise this," Anya muttered as she bent over the piece of paper and began murmuring to herself. "Entry points… front door… hallway. Stairs front, likely runic traps… living room right…"
Harry followed suit, his eyes roving over the paper detailing the rooms of the house. He had barely familiarised himself with the layout before Anya stepped away from the table, prompting her and the other two to give curt nods. Understanding the silent cue, Harry looked to Anya for instructions. Anya simply extended a hand which Harry grabbed on before they disapparated.
They appeared in a deserted street, flanked by overbearing trees with a thin layer of snow on the ground. Anya moved immediately, taking cover behind the treeline as Harry hastened to follow suit.
"Listen," said Anya coldly. "From here on, follow my every instruction with absolutely no hesitation. Do you have that cloak with you?"
Harry shook and Anya began swishing her wand, unseen spells seeping into the air around them. She tapped her wand on Harry several times before doing the same to herself.
"If I say get down, you get down."
"Got it."
"If I say run there, you run to wherever I've directed."
"Sure."
"If I say engage that person, I expect you to kill."
"Kill?"
"Yes," Anya replied. "Every spell should be cast to kill. Trust me, the other side's doing the same."
A pit formed in Harry's gut, it was not an instruction he had been expecting. The cold eyes in Anya left no room for argument.
"Who's our enemy? Black Mark?" Harry asked.
"People like me, just with a different agenda," Anya muttered out her reply, focused on the rows of distant houses. "Alright, follow me. Stick close. Keep your eyes open. And that pocketwatch looking device?"
Harry looked down to his vest and noticed the aforementioned object strapped to one of the pouches.
"Magic spectrometer. Detects magic in the surroundings, fluctuations and all," Anya explained. "Let me know if any of the dials start swinging wildly."
He gave Anya a nod and she began moving, setting brisk pace as they entered into the Muggle neighbourhood. Harry had his wand drawn, eyes drawn to the slightest flicker of shadows. A spell was already at the front of his mind in case of an attack. Somehow, he knew the vest on his body allowed him to circumvent the laws regarding underage magic.
A fifteen minute walk and they were moving down a row of houses. Anya pointed at one of the houses and looked at Harry. Harry got the message and nodded. Shifting her rifle aside, Anya drew her wand and began waving it in intricate circles.
"Alright Harry, it's the two of us," Anya sighed. "Here's how we're doing it. I'll say where I am looking, you'll look somewhere else. We're covering each other's back."
"Just like the acromantulas in the Triwizards?" Harry gave a wry grin.
"Yep," Anya snorted, a ghost of a grin flashing through her face. "Once we cross into the front yard, they might know we're coming. Once we step through the door, that fact is guaranteed."
"Got it."
"You ready?"
"Yes."
"Move. I'll watch front," Anya said curtly.
She brought up her rifle, her wand held along with the handguard of the rifle and moved swiftly towards their target. Harry followed her to the front yard and mirrored her dash towards the house. Following Anya's instructions, his head swung from left to right, keeping watch of their flanks as Anya started cracking the second layer of wards. She took out a piece of chalk and began drawing runes onto the door, muttering an incantation as she drew.
Two minutes passed and Anya swiped her wand down, Harry heard the clicking of locks magically disengaging and saw the dials on the magic spectrometer flicker erratically. A jab from Anya's wand pushed the door open quietly. The hallway beyond was empty and Harry tailed Anya's advance.
"Looking stairs. Watch right," Anya muttered, entering the house itself.
Harry tailed Anya, aiming his wand and scanning the barely decorated living room which had more boxes than furniture. Anya crouched at the stairs and cast a spell up the stairway.
"No traps," Anya muttered. "Homenum Revelio."
"Two upstairs, none on the ground floor," Anya stated as Harry felt a weird sensation settle over their body. "Separate rooms. One front, one rear. I'll make an opening for the front then take the rear, can you follow up on the front?"
"Sure," Harry's grip on his wand tightened.
"Go," Anya bounded up the stairs in steps of two, swinging her wand in an arc. "Deprimo."
A plump of dust burst from the second floor as Harry dashed up the stairs. He reached the landing of the second floor in time to see Anya drop to a knee, firing her rifle twice at some target behind him.
"Evanesco," Harry vanished the cloud of dust. His next spell was at the tip of his tongue, but the sight of a bloodied man strapped to a chair made him pause. The man looked more akin to a prisoner than an enemy.
"Get down!"
Harry reacted on instinct, throwing himself onto the floor and flicking his wand.
"Protego!."
A purple curse ricocheted off his Shield Charm and impacted the ceiling. The soft thumps of Anya's rifle firing repeatedly filled the air.
"That entire room," Anya barked. "Burn it up."
Harry paused for a second, feeling the blood run in his veins and his wrist locking up. He stamped down the hesitation and flicked his wand.
"Incendio."
The lance of fire curved into the offending room and with a twist of his wand, the lance of fire burst into a wave of fire. Anya immediately slung her rifle in favour of pistol and wand, sprinting into the burning room.
"Reducto! Diffindo!" Anya's voice came from the room and Harry waited for seconds before she spoke once more. "Clear."
He heaved a sigh of relief as Anya stepped out of the room, dousing the fire with a jet of water from the tip of her wand. Turning back to the first room, he approached the bloodied man strapped to the chair only to notice another body slumped against the wall. Judging by the fact Anya had only reported two people, Harry assumed that the man was dead.
"Prisoners?" Harry asked, turning to Anya who had just finished speaking into her radio headset.
"Most likely," Anya shrugged.
"Wait," Harry mused at the body, noticing the khaki combat robes. "Those robes…"
"British Aurors," Anya stated, sweeping her wand over the room. "That's an issue."
Harry pressed his finger on the bloodied man's neck and felt a pulse. He felt the man stirring, the Auror's eyes open as looked at the people standing over him.
"Merlin's… who… Harry Potter?" the Auror groaned.
"It's alright," Harry replied automatically, drawing his wand over the visible wounds. "We're here to help."
Repeating a small list of healing spells he had practised, he watched as the bleeding wound began to slowly close. He had yet to learn how to effectively counter internal magical damage but it was the best he could do.
"Potions in your vest," said Anya, who had gone over to the dead Auror, inspecting the corpse. "They're all labelled."
Harry nodded and dug into the pouches in his vest, looking through the labels before feeding the injured Auror a healing potion and an antidote mixture to be safe.
"I don't even want to know why there's two Hogwarts students here," the Auror coughed. "Much less on how they overpowered that fucker."
"What were you doing here?" Harry asked.
"I don't believe that's your business," the Auror retorted. "Undo these bindings and give me a wand."
Harry turned to Anya who shook her head. She approached the Auror and checked on the injuries before promptly aimining her wand and firing a Stunning Spell. The Auror jerked on the spot before slumping over. Anya proceeded to press her wand on the temples of the Auror.
"What are you doing?'
"Cleaning up his memories," Anya replied. "There are a lot of things he shouldn't be knowing, including our presence. Besides, we'll be taking him back for information."
"Should you pass him over to the Ministry?"
"Of course," Anya snorted. "We'll likely leave him on the roadside once we're done with him, he'll be able to head back after that."
Anya stopped in her tracks, a free hand flying up to press against her headset. She dashed for the nearby window and peered out, eyes narrowing sharply before muttering a single word: "Shit."
"Bad news?" Harry asked warily.
"Company, not the good type," Anya answered. "They've locked the place with AMT wards too."
"AMT?"
"Anti-Magical Transportation. It means we can just disapparate out of here."
A loud crash came from the next room and the twins snapped into action. Harry cast a Shield Charm preemptively, taking the initiative and edging around the doorway of their room.
"Good," Anya murmured with a hint of approval and Harry felt a weight on his shoulder, turning his head slightly to see Anya aiming her rifle over his shoulder.
Their enemy came from around the door of the next room, dressed in jet black with a ballistic vest and black mask covering the face. A wand and pistol took up each of the person's hands as Harry could recognise the bluish flicker of a Shield Charm. Anya fired from behind him, her shot colliding against the enemy's Shield Charm. The spellwork barely held up as the man was thrown back into the door frame.
"Incendio," Harry seized the opening, lowering his Shielding Charm.
His lance of fire surged towards the man who hastened to reinforce his Shield Charm. A mental nudge from Harry pulled on the strings of magic controlling the Fire Serpent Spell and the lance of fire zig-zagged around the man's Shield Charm, engulfing the man's unguarded side in flames.
The man gave a cry of panic and dove back into his room. However, his loss of concentration allowed Anya's next shot to land deep into the man's shoulder before he could disappear from sight. Another crash from the ground floor drew their attention.
"I'll cover the stairs," said Anya. "Go there and finish that one off."
Harry nodded, moving to the next room as he saw Anya block a red curse with a Shield Charm, firing a spell of her own in retaliation. Entering the room, he saw the masked man leaning against the whilst feebly raising his arm, wand in hand. Harry could make out bits of charred skin where the man's clothing had burned off and if it were not for the dark colour of his clothes, Harry was sure the red stain of blood would have been striking.
"Expelliarmus," Harry said firmly, the red jet of light wrenching the wand and pistol out of the man's trembling hands. A Reductor Curse rendered the weapons unusable.
The man growled in pain from the force of the spell and Harry adjusted his aim, his wand now pointing between the eyeholes of the mask. Taking a deep breath, he remembered Anya's instructions and various incantations to lethal spells began echoing in his head. It eventually grew to an overwhelming torrent, and images of the man before him dead in a wet puddle of gore filled his mind.
For a moment, Harry was back in a graveyard, Cedric's glassy dead eyes staring back at him. His breath suddenly found itself locked in his lungs.
"Stupefy. Incarcerous."
The man collapsed onto the floor with ropes wound tightly around his torso. Harry finally let out the breath he had been holding. Slowly, the sound of his surroundings - which had been tuned out into a low buzz - became louder and louder. A roar of voices hit his ear, followed by the sound of snapping wood.
Harry let out a slight gasp and dashed back out of the room. Anya was panting heavily, the staircase before her nearly destroyed. There was a gash on her jaw where a steady trickle of blood made its way to her jacket. She wiped the blood with the back of her sleeves, eyes flickering to Harry for a split second before her attention snapped back to the threat downstairs.
Anya cast a Shield Charm, moving away as several bullets struck the charm. A pack of hounds climbed up the stairs, pouncing on Anya. Her Shield Charm bore the physical impact and Harry jabbed his wand, an Immobulus freezing the hounds in their tracks. Anya waved her wand and the transfiguration was reversed, reverting the hounds back to planks of wood.
The enemy downstairs had climbed the stairs during the window of opportunity, firing a Severing Charm as he reached the second floor. Harry ducked beneath the spell, hearing the tear of wood and wallpaper above him.
"Reducto!"
Anya's curse hit the man's shoulder and blasted him backwards into the wall. The man let out a roar of pain and his ballistic vest started smoking. Harry lifted his wand and took aim, trying to find a spell to cast.
"Stu-"
His words were cut short as Anya lunged at him, shoving him hard with her elbow as extended her wand arm past his face.
"DIFFINDO!"
"DIFFINDO!"
Two different voices filled the air. Harry felt a gust of magic brushing past his face before a diagonal gash ripped into Anya's vest and even further into flesh. An arc of crimson hit the air, blood displaced from Anya's body by the Severing Charm.
A choked gasp escaped from Anya's lips, the force from the spell knocking her onto the floor. Harry's back hit the wall from Anya's shove and he felt blood drain from his face. He turned to the source of the threat, a spell at the tip of his tongue. He aimed his wand and his eyes widened in disbelief, it was the man he had stunned and binded moments ago.
Anya's own Severing Charm had connected with the man's wrist, separating wand and hand from the rest of the body. The man was writhing on the floor, clutching the remaining stump as blood pooled onto the floor.
"CONFRIN-"
The deep voice pulled Harry's attention to the man still by the staircase. He could see the red glow on the tip of the man's wand. Every fibre of his body screamed to move, but before he could react, a loud thump filled the air.
It cut off the man's incantation, causing the red glow to dissipate into the air. The man's head snapped to the side, an impact which sent its contents flying. Several more thumps followed and the man crumpled onto the floor.
Dimitri ran up the stairs, wand and pistol in hand. Jen followed shortly with a rifle - the muzzle still smoking - and the pair instantly split their attentions into different directions of the second floor, mechanically sweeping the floor for threats as they advanced. Harry was met with the end of Dimitri's pistol before the teen diverted his aim, fixing it on the writhing man.
"Any other threats, Potter?" Dimitri asked curtly, stepping over Anya's body and emptying a round into each of the writhing man's limbs.
"N-no, it's just him left," Harry replied, his voice nearly smothered by the screams from Dimitri's victim.
"Homenum Revelio," Dimitri swished his wand. "Potter's right on that."
"Got it," Jen nodded, slinging his rifle immediately and heading straight for Anya who was now hissing in pain.
Harry heard an unbroken chain of spells coming from Dimitri who had his wand pointed at the writhing man. Slowly, the rush and the heat of the battle ebbed away from his body as he turned to his sister.
"Stop! Stop!" Anya yelled, shoving Jen back who had been attempting to heal her injury. "The cut's shallow, my vest took most of the blow."
"I'll be the judge of that," Jen said firmly, a deft hand intercepting Anya's shove and pulling her up to a sitting position. "Just relax, I'll take care of it."
Anya took a deep breath and shuddered, a hand digging into one of the pouches in her vest. She withdrew a vial of Invigoration Draught and drained its contents, tossing the empty vial aside before reaching for a second one.
"One's more than enough," Jen chided her gently, a small frown on his face as he traced his wand along the diagonal gash on Anya.
Anya let out a curse in Russian, her shuddering coming to a stop as she drained her second vial, hands clenched tight. Finally, the events of the night hit Harry's head like a sledgehammer. His mind began spinning, trying to process everything as a sick feeling began gathering in his gut.
"Is she going to be alright?" Harry asked, fear gripping him as he saw the bloodstained jacket beneath Anya's vest. "Anything I can do to help?"
"It's all fine, Potter," Jen replied, tipping the contents of a potion down Anya's lips.
"What were you doing?" Anya asked emotionlessly, staring vacantly into the wall, her pupils dilated. "You didn't kill him."
Harry realised what the feeling in his gut was. It was guilt, it was shame. Every part of him had protested against taking another human and the consequence was in front of him.
"I stunned and bound him," Harry answered softly, averting his gaze.
A hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. Harry barely registered the perpetrator before a fist slammed against his jaw, knocking him flat onto the floor. Harry groaned at the sharp pain, looking up to see Dimitri. The teen had a look of outraged disbelief in his face, lips curled into a sneer.
"Are you insane?!" Dimitri spat. "Do you think just two spells is enough to-"
"Dimitri, I'll handle this," Anya staggered onto her feet. "The Spook?"
Dimitri looked away with a huff, closing his eyes.
"I have him secured in the room," he grunted. "He didn't have much on him when I performed Legilimency. He was a response force after all."
"There's a British Auror in the other room," said Anya, a hint of emotion now entering her voice. "The two of you can deal with that."
Dimitri nodded jerkily, giving Harry one last glare before following Jen. Harry was left with Anya, both of them facing one another in the corridor.
"Sorry, I thought it would have been enough," Harry looked at his shoes. "I even destroyed his weapons with a Reductor."
"Most of us carry at least two wands with us," Anya stated harshly. "And you need a lot more than just two simples to restrain someone."
"Harry, I told you. Cast to kill."
"Anne, I can't just kill another person."
Silence, it hung in the air as Anya trembled, staring at Harry in disbelief. Anya lunged, her hands grabbing firmly on the fabric of Harry's shirt. A rough tug brought Harry face to face with Anya, there was a wild spark in her green eyes, raw anger seeping out.
"Is life really that simple and clean?!," Anya yelled, pressing Harry against the wall. "I fucking wish it was."
"You've said you're in a war, act like you are!" her fingers dug deeper into Harry. "I could have died! You could have died! Just because you can't let an enemy die!"
"I'm sorry," Harry gasped. "This is just-"
Harry was unable to finish his sentence as Anya dragged him to a room and shoved him to the floor, her deft hands snatching away his wand as he fell. Pushing himself up, he saw the man he failed to kill. The stump where a hand once was had stopped bleeding, a metallic rope restraining him from any movement. A circle of runes surrounded the man and Harry noticed the faint shimmer of red radiating from the ropes, it was not a normal Incarcerous.
A voice sent a shiver down his spine.
"Prove it."
The clatter of metal on concrete filled the air as Harry watched a pistol sliding towards him. He looked up and saw that all the emotion had bled out from Anya's eyes, her gaze was empty as she stared at him. She gestured coldly at the pistol and nodded at the bound man.
"You've a dark lord on your case," said Anya coolly, lifting Harry's holly wand with a trembling hand. "I don't want you dead because you hesitated."
"Anne, wait-"
"I won't be opening the door until that man is dead, Rennervate."
With that, the wooden door shut close, Harry could hear muffled incantation behind the door and knew he had no means of leaving the room. A deep groan rumbled from the stirring body before the man jerked awake, struggling against his bindings. Harry grabbed the pistol lying on the floor, a sense of danger digging into his bones. He could see the man's eye looking wildly for an opening, there was none, Dimitri had done a thorough job in restraining the man.
Harry turned and tried the doorknob, hoping for a saving grace. There was none as the door did not bulge. Running his fingers through his hair, Harry sighed in frustration. The man had now gone still, staring intensely at Harry. Harry raised the pistol in his hand, the sights of the pistol etched perfectly against the face of the man.
A pause lasted for a heartbeat, followed by another.
Harry stood there for a full minute.
His thoughts were waging a war inside his head, the pragmatic and the idealistic, at times even wondering which was truly the pragmatic and which was truly the idealistic.
His finger pulled the trigger.
Thump.
He barely registered the magically muffled gunshot as the man's head snapped back, crimson spurting from a hole between his eyes as the body went limp. Releasing a breath he had been holding on, Harry slid onto the floor, fixated on the lifeless eyes staring back at him.
Blood was on his hands. It was not killing in the heat of a battle. This was murder, this was execution, intentional and calculated.
The door behind him swung open and Anya stood at the doorway, she looked at the lifeless body before staring at Harry. There was neither satisfaction nor revulsion in Anya's face, absorbing the fact that Harry had killed matter-of-factly.
"When the time comes," Anya broke the silence. "Would you do it again?"
Harry did not answer the question, passing the pistol back to Anya. He looked into his sister's eyes, a silent request to return to Hogwarts as soon as possible. Anya seemed to take the hint as she nodded. She grabbed his wrist and firmly pulled him down the corridor, back to the room where Dimitri and Jen were.
"He's going back to Hogwarts," said Anya, looking for any objection from the two. "Jen, if you would, I doubt I'm in a state to perform Apparition."
Despite the pointed glares Dimitri sent Harry, the two teens raised no protest. Anya's grip on his wrist loosened as Jen held his shoulder. They disapparated to the edge of Hogsmeade where Jen pointed his wand at Harry.
"Stay still," Jen said indifferently. "I need to secure your memories, standard practice."
"Mind letting me keep some of them?" Harry suggested tiredly. "I… I think it's best I remember some of it."
Jen titled his head in thought before giving a noncommittal shrug.
"Open your mind," Jen instructed. "Legilimens."
Harry could not muster the effort to rebel against the order and allowed images of the night to flash before his eyes. The spell ended and Jen stared at Harry in consideration.
"For Anya's sake, I'll keep some," Jen nodded.
Harry said his thanks.
Or at least he assumed he had.
Truthfully, it was easier to be on the receiving end of the unknown memory spell the second time. Well, Harry assumed it was the second time as he slipped past the portrait of the Fat Lady.
Stepping into his dorm, he could see the sleeping forms of his housemates. He glanced down at his dirty jacket, he could have sworn he was wearing something else. He noticed his hands shaking, he clenched his fists hard.
The stark contrast between him and normal could not have been any clearer.
Harry grunted, tearing off his jacket and rummaging through his trunk for his pyjamas. Grabbing his towel, he headed for the showers, taking care to cast a Silencing Charm to avoid waking his roommates.
Stripping himself bare, Harry stood under the showerhead and turned the faucet until he was able to lose himself in the torrent of water. Without his glasses, he could only see the blurry shape of his arms. However, the image of the man he had killed in cold blood was etched in his mind to the finest detail.
"Damn it, Harry," Harry muttered to himself. "Get a bloody grip."
When the time comes, would you do it again?
You've said you're in a war, act like you are!
The image of the Severing Charm landing on Anya flashed through his head, the splash of her blood hitting the floor and her bloodstained clothes. His sister was injured. He did that.
He slid down onto the floor, hands grabbing his black locks of hair. It felt like nothing was the right choice and everything was the wrong choice.
XXXXX
Sterling groaned, his eyes gradually opening as his mind spun. Lestrange was dead, he remembered watching the life bleed from his senior slowly, body riddled with curses. His vision finally focused and he squinted immediately.
A bright light shone directly on him but the rest of the room was dark. He knew the setup, it allowed his assailants perfect vision of him while he could barely make out the silhouettes sitting before him. He tried moving, only to find himself strapped to a chair.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Sterling looked down and found that the injuries he had sustained had been mostly healed. Multiple bandages were wrapped around various parts of his body, likely soaked with an ointment based on the smell and soothing sensation. Essence of Dittany was Sterling's best guess.
However, the needle and tube coming from his arm was cause for consternation. Sterling traced the path of the tube, ending at an IV bag. Healers at St Mungo's would occasionally use them for unorthodox treatment, but Sterling saw them more often at Muggle hospitals.
He barely remembered the ambush he and Lestrange had fallen into. There had been a loud bang and spell flying, both of them had not been able to disapparate. His memories were definitely tempered, there were too many holes. He looked at the people in the darkness, there were three of them. They were not his initial captors, Sterling was sure of that, the treatment was too different. Otherwise, he would have been bleeding out to death right now.
"Name," said one of his captors.
"John Lewis Sterling," Sterling answered immediately, words pouring from his lips without him realising.
Veritaserum. Sterling's eyes were drawn to the IV bag levitating beside him, tube and needle still firmly inserted into one of his veins.
"Your mission objectives before being captured?"
"Covertly tail Auror Lieutenant Issac Stanning to find out his activities and whereabouts," Sterling grunted, mounting an attempt to resist the effects of the potion.
"The reason being?"
"Suspected treachery," Sterling replied vaguely, trying to stem the outflow of information.
"Suspected treachery in the form of possibly aiding a Russian party, yes or no?"
"Yes," Sterling growled with mounting frustration at his captor's move, yes-or-no questions were harder to resist.
"Was this assigned after the incident at Edinburgh?"
"Yes," Sterling answered, his eyes widening in shock at the insights his captors had.
The questions stopped as his captors began a discussion of their own. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, their questions having hit the mark too accurately. The discussion came to a close and even under the shroud of darkness, Sterling could feel the eyes on him.
"Next question then."
XXXXX
"Madam Bones. Auror Tonks here. Permission to enter."
"Granted," Amelia replied distractedly, signing the last of the forms awaiting her approval.
The door opened and the Junior Auror entered, Amelia could tell it was a serious matter as there was no reason for Tonks to report to her office. Amelia cleared her desk with a flick of her wand, giving the young Auror her attention. Judging from the countenance on Tonks, Amelia could guess it was not good news.
"Our team had come back from patrol following a detection of an unauthorised Portkey Charm," Tonks reported. "Head Auror Scrimgeour thought it was best the news was directly relayed to you."
"And?" Amelia prompted.
"We found Auror Sterling and Auror Lestrange on a roadside in the outskirts of London," Tonks winced. "One wounded, the other dead."
The news was an expected blow to Amelia's gut. Her eyes widened in shock, question after question forming in her mind.
"Who survived?" Amelia grimaced.
"Auror Sterling," Tonks replied. "He bears signs of injuries but someone managed to heal them. He was unconscious when we found him. Still is, actually. He's already in St Mungo's for treatment."
"And Auror Lestrange?" Amelia asked, bracing for the worst.
"Multiple injuries all over his body, a mix of physical and magical damage" Tonks said softly, a pained look on her face. "Suspected death from blood loss."
Amelia sighed, there it was, it sounded like textbook torture. She stood up immediately, locking all her drawers and cabinets with a wave of her wand.
"Take me to Auror Sterling," Amelia ordered curtly. "I'll need to see this in person."
