3.3
The United States of America. It was okay, I supposed. Large, a bit dirty, plenty of rib joints for a hungry meat eater like myself. I'd been to a lot of places over the past couple years but it was one country I'd overlooked. No new language to learn and not exotic enough to intrigue. Throw in the higher than average amount of cameras and it wasn't exactly top of the list. Still, after the DADA class with "Mad-Eye" Moody I needed a peaceful vacation. The way he'd tortured that spider had made me want to test his theory that none of us could cast an Avada Kedavra strong enough to cause more than a headache.
I'd left my wand back at Hogwarts to keep from running afoul of Ministry tracking spells. The flight was tricky, and expensive. To make room for my spider half I'd reserved half an aisle in first class. Since I had to stay awake to keep applying wandless glamours the first thing I did on arriving was push the time turner to the limit, providing me twenty-two hours to recover from jet-lag. From there I leisurely wandered New York before journeying into the countryside where I could use the time-turner more freely without fear of paradox.
I used the time turner another seven times before Friday ended. The hum of it's overexertion had me turning it a time or two less each time but it still gave me enough time to hit a fair number of parks and monuments. I changed my hair and eye color occasionally with glamours just in case someone saw me in two different places at the same. After noting a few police officers looking my way I sharpened my cheekbones to look eighteen rather than a kid playing hooky after which my travels were generally peaceful. The number of men trying to hit on the "British chick" was slightly empowering considering my dating life at school but mostly annoying. Every interaction with people limited the time turner's power further.
I considered going back to Hogwarts around midnight but… it was the weekend. The girls would assume I was at the library and would never check. The boys might, but then they'd assume I was holed up in the girl's dorm and be too shy to ask any of the girls. After catching some z's in a campground I headed to the beach. Once I got up to neck-height I didn't have to worry about keeping all the glamours up and could finally relax. I had more magical power than a few years ago but the low level drain of all the glamours could give me a headache after a time.
Buoyed by the glorious day I let the evening fill me with foolhardy courage. "I shouldn't be doing this," I murmured. My legs, however, continued padding forward softly. As a kid I'd read a few sci-fi novels about America's mysterious Area 51. Perhaps that was why I took a detour on the way to a hotel and snuck over a fence. A fence that happened to guard fissionable material. There were guards, but the thing I noticed most about the nuclear power plant was the space. Vast swathes of open land not open to permanent human habitation. It was partly the lack of obvious obstacles that kept me creeping forward.
Harry's stolen (borrowed) cloak wasn't big enough to cover all of me, but thanks to some glamours I'd gotten by several guards and cameras without response thus far. I couldn't cast an invisibility spell with my wand, let alone wandlessly, but I could turn my upper body the color of cement. Luckily, there was a lot of cement around to disguise me.
A simple alohamora granted me access to the plant itself, and from there it was nearly a straight shot to the control room. Two donut-eating men sat listlessly at the control, totally oblivious to my presence. Idle predatory instinct had me slide out my fore-feet's claws to rest millimeters from their necks. 'Mice are smarter than these two. How is the human race still alive?'
Putting away my claws lest they pound the cement, I left the power plant deeply disturbed. I'd entered on a lark, but I hadn't expected it would be that easy to get to the controls. With a little effort even a mediocre wizard could set off a chain reaction in the reactor that could take thousands of lives. Heck, if America's nuclear missiles were as lightly guarded then a simple imperious or two could start WWIII. Potentially the only thing keeping terrorist wizards and witches out was the mind-boggling ignorance purebloods had of muggle technology. Not that many of her muggleborn fellows were much better, having been pulled out of traditional schooling before starting the hard sciences. Still, this was a frightening security hole, a disaster waiting to happen.
Even after I settled under the hotel bed's covers the bogeyman of nuclear war kept me awake. There was no guarantee that the next Dark Lord wouldn't be more tech-savvy than the last. And while Voldemort hadn't utilized muggle assets to do his dirty work, Grindelwald very much had. If the Germans had invented the bomb before the US there was no telling what he might have done with it.
Something would have to be done. I'd already decided to do my best to keep Arda from becoming spoiled by expansionist wizards, but this trip had reminded me that the muggle world needed protection as well.
I was terribly nervous. I could keep five or six legs still but the remaining three would start tapping and shifting, claws occasionally sliding out to scrape the floor. I tried my best to look innocent but the unexplainable sounds were starting to make others in the lobby suspicious. Maybe I should have gone to the CIA instead. Higher chance of ending up in some Black Site interrogation room but at least the meeting would have been more private.
"First time here?" I nearly fell flat on my face when the man spoke up beside me, and that was tough to do with eight legs.
"Umm, yes. You?" I was always more eloquent with kids than with strange adults. Strangely I'd be an adult myself by wizarding standards in another five months or so, though it would be years before my papers would prove that fact.
"Just got hired actually." He was old. At least thirty, I imagined. Sort of handsome though, plenty of light brown hair and a strong jaw.
"You're an agent?" I should have guessed. Hardly anyone in the US had muscles like that unless they were army or law enforcement.
"Ah, no. Just a lowly tech I'm afraid. Name's Dexter Morgan. What brings you to the FBI?"
I hesitated. What I was doing was against one of the strictest of magical laws, and if it wasn't then I was sure the British government would be peeved that I went to the Americans first. In my defense the English magical population was much higher than that of the US and American wizards and witches were notoriously isolationist. I had far less probability of running into undercover aurors here than in my homeland. Even so, I couldn't just blurt things out to the first person I saw. Every person I spoke with was a potential security risk. Still, the line was really long and my time turner wouldn't let me travel into the future. Maybe he could speed me along?
"I have information. I need to speak to the head of the FBI immediately." I tried to sound authoritative but Dexter seemed unwaved.
"Well, I could find you an agent," he replied. "Maybe a special agent if you tell me a bit about your information. Head of the FBI doesn't speak to just anyone though. I don't suppose you're MI6?"
I shook my head. "It really is important though."
He shrugged. "Want some water while you wait?" He gestured towards a water cooler.
"Sure." Gentleman that he appeared to be he immediately moved towards the cooler, at least until an invisible obstacle blocked his way. 'Frikk frikk frikkity frack.' Even though it was attached to me I wasn't immune to acting like my caboose was nonexistent if I kept it invisible long enough, this time to disastrous effect. Before I could come up with any sort of adequate response he pulled off the invisibility cloak in one go.
'!'
End 3.3
90% chance this fanfic has a plot.