INSIDE A SKEEZY LONDON NIGHT CLUB
"This floor is disgusting," Ginny shouted.
"What?"
Lights flashed, music blared, and Ginny gave up on verbal communication. She grabbed George by the elbow and dragged him in the direction of the bar. She tried not to think about whatever it was that was making her boots stick to the floor.
"What a dive," bellowed George, "Are you sure this is it?"
He was eyeing the scantily clad muggles apprehensively. Ginny had a momentary question mark over George's sexuality, and then noticed all the dyed hair, fake lashes, and cascading breasts strapped up in animal print and sequins… the stench of alcohol and vomit, the make-up painted on, wafts of body odour and too much cologne… the tiny tshirts and bulging biceps and beer guts… she felt her own expression shift towards apprehensive.
"Yes," she shouted, but it didn't feel as convincing as she'd intended. When they'd come in, she'd been on a mission, looking for Crabbe, not noticing much else, but now that she was looking properly… she'd never thought the answer to 'what are you scared of' might be 'drunk muggles'.
"There," George pointed over to a booth containing a boulder in a leather jacket topped with greasy hair. "Is that him?"
"Owl says yes,"
The bird dropped the envelope onto the table beside the boulder, hooted in disgust, and took off for the exit with a panicked flap.
Ginny started towards Crabbe, but George grabbed her arm.
"Not here," he shouted in her ear, "Muggles,"
Ginny nodded.
"Wait outside?"
George shrugged. It wasn't like they could even talk to Crabbe in this din. He was about to suggest sneaking up and planting a little tracking beetle on Crabbe's jacket- a demo piece from one of Ginny's product ideas- when he saw her eyes widen in horror, and she charged off towards the booth.
Before, their view had only been of the back of him, that hulking torso and flat-topped head. But now they had a profile view.
There was a woman on his lap. Young. Short skirt. Stilettos. Big hoop earrings, and somehow a look about her that said 'rough upbringing, just trying to fit in'. Crabbe had one hand up her skirt, and the other up her shirt. Her head lolled against his shoulder, her expression dazed and vacant.
George dove after Ginny, catching her just as she skirted round an aggressive little man in sports gear and chunky chains.
"Ministry," he bellowed at her.
"Corrupt!" she yelled back, her face red, fury beating off her in waves.
"Spinnet can handle it,"
She paused.
"How?"
"Arrest him,"
Ginny rolled her eyes and pulled a face.
"Find her?"
George paused. He could apparate to her house, or to the law enforcement precinct. But she could be out. Patronus would find her. But…
"Wait here," he said, "No magic. You'll get arrested too."
She rolled her eyes again and glared at him.
That would have to do.
George raced for the exit, half-slipping in someone's spilled drink, and taking elbows to the ribs and a flick of pink and purple hair straight in the face.
There was an alley outside. A few doors down. That would be quiet enough. Unless it was full of people… George dismissed the thought and plunged outside into the cool night air, fresh with car exhaust and take away pizza. In the alley a few people were loitering, laughing and spitting, and flinging bottles to smash on the pavement. But that was down the other end. It would have to do.
A happy memory… George gave a little huff of laughter at the thought. Did he even have any left that weren't soaked through with sadness?
What about when they were kids? No, that hurt. Ok. What about just him by himself? When did that happen? What about winning at quidditch, something they all shared?
Seconds ticked by and George knew that if things were getting any worse in there, Ginny would snap and hex Crabbe into next week, and bring the ministry down on them.
Which would be fine except, she'd be arrested for performing magic in front of muggles, and with their luck they'd probably be dealing with Ministry employees who thought muggles were scum and wouldn't see what the fuss was about.
Damn it Alicia, we need those bloody DA coins. How am I supposed to get in touch with you? A happy memory, Merlin's saggy- this is pointless.
George turned on the spot and apparated to the balcony of the block of flats where Alicia lived, raced down to number twenty-seven and pounded on the door.
Alicia, please be home, please be-
He heard muttered spells through the door.
"It's George," he shouted, "You need to arrest Crabbe,"
More muttered spells and the door opened. Alicia was wearing flannelette pijamas decorated with a lurid pattern of broomsticks, cupcakes, and kittens. George blinked.
"I can't arrest wildlife, Weasley, are you drunk?"
"No, Crabbe, big hulking brute, trailed after Draco Malfoy,"
Alicia's lip curled.
"What about him?"
"Mid-way through assaulting a muggle teenager? Can't cast, it's in the zone, bring the ministry down on us,"
"So Fred-" her eyes went wide with panic, "Wait, who are you with?"
"Ginny, and if it gets any worse, she'll cast, you know she will."
Alicia glanced down at her pijamas.
"I'm out of uniform-"
"Cast a glamour!" George wrapped his arms around her and side-alonged her back to the alley way.
"George!"
"Sorry, it's an emergency,"
"It's a crime to side along someone without their consent! I need-"
"Damn it, just do your magical law enforcement thing and save that girl from whatever Crabbe has planned."
Alica gave him a stern look.
"I will be back in one minute. Don't go anywhere. Don't do anything." She vanished with a snap.
George found himself cursing and clutching at his hair in panic. He'd just given up and was charging back to the nightclub when he heard a cluster of cracks like cars backfiring, and there was Alicia and two other enforcement agents. They wore muggle clothes; jeans, boots, and tshirts emblazoned with electric guitars and the letters MLE. But in the wizarding world everyone knew those tshirts weren't fan merchandise for a band.
"That was a pijama party, you fool," Alicia muttered as they caught up with him, "You can't kidnap me out of my own house when it's full of cops,"
"Two people is hardly full of cops," he muttered back.
"It is when you consider the size of her flat," said one of the others, a short curvy woman with buzz cut hair and a long side fringe. "You George Weasley, then? I remember you."
George had a sudden flash of recognition. Ravenclaw beater in his first year. Caught him and Fred sneaking into the kitchens and demanded a muffin in payment for her silence.
"Athena, right? How was the muffin?"
She snorted.
"Cheeky bastard. This is Aiko."
Aiko nodded at him, so he nodded back, and the four of them plunged back into the nightclub, Alicia cheerfully ignoring the cover charge with a quick little charm.
Ginny, it seemed, had not been able to wait five minutes.
Just as they got close enough to see what was happening, the smell of burning reached them over all the other stinks.
Crabbe was on fire.
The girl was slumped half in half out of the booth, limbs splayed, giggling feebly. Crabbe was stomping about batting at his flaming shirtfront with his enormous hands, and bellowing.
Ginny just stood there, stony faced.
"Shit."
Athena cast a quick misdirection, to encourage the muggles to focus on anything other than the drama unfolding in the corner. Aiko extinguished Crabbe with a lazy flick of her wrist, and Alicia bent over the girl, checking her eyes and her breathing, and tugging her clothing back into place.
"Gin?"
Ginny glared at him.
"You said not to use magic."
"Yeah but…"
Ginny's glare intensified.
"He started dragging her off to the loos."
Athena snorted.
"So you torched him? Girl after my own heart. How?"
Ginny winced.
"I dropped that guy's lighter on him. I was going for a diversion. I thought that big wet stain was sweat, and her drool, not alcohol…"
"Ah, accidental torching. Good, won't have to arrest you."
Aiko cast her a look.
"She accidentally dropped the lighter," Athena said loudly.
"The hell she did!" bellowed Crabbe, suddenly weighing in now the immediate threat of immolation had vanished, "Bloody deliberate, Weasley, I'll get you for-"
"No, you won't." Said Athena.
Another lazy wrist flick from Aiko and Crabbe's hands were planted firmly in his jeans' pockets, and the legs of the jeans themselves fused together.
"She set me on-"
Aiko's neutral expression flickered briefly to annoyed. A third flick and Crabbe's mouth snapped shut.
"We need to leave." She said quietly, relying on everyone else to lip read.
The five of them bundled Crabbe and the girl out of the club and into the alley.
"Gin, love, you're going to need to give us a statement and a memory. That ok with you?"
Ginny nodded, tight lipped.
"We're going to have to go in to the office. You two ok with that? I know the ministry is not exactly your favourite institution right now,"
George snorted.
Aiko let out an impressively long sentence full of expletives and graphic expressions of her disgust for the moral state of the ministry.
Athena grinned.
"Paints a good word picture, hey," she said, "Mark my words, she'll be Minster one day."
Aiko cast her a snakey glare.
"Let's go."
AT THE OFFICE
George sat in a horrible plastic chair and waited. Ginny had given her statement and extracted a little whisp of memory for the record. George had given his. Athena had pointed them both at the horrible kitchenette for coffee, and Ginny was hovering in there now, clinking spoons angrily, her hands shaking.
Setting someone on fire, even in a muggle way, was still criminal.
For the first time, George hoped the ministry was corrupt- in his sister's favour.
It gave him a slippery sick feeling.
Crabbe was in an interrogation room. He'd been banging his head against the door in protest, so Aiko had put a stop to it. Now, he was sleeping peacefully on the floor.
Alicia came out of the little sick bay, where the girl was being treated by the on-call healer.
"She's confunded," Alicia said grimly, "You were right, George. I don't know how though, because it should have triggered alarms and sent muggle abuse officers to the scene. She's ok though. I mean… she's not. But you did stop him before he… Look. She won't remember what happened, and there's no, um. Damage? I'm not saying this well. She's ok considering, and she won't remember anything. The healer is trying to lift the confundus at the moment."
"You coming, Spinnet?" Athena gestured with the file in her hand towards the interrogation room.
Alicia nodded, and gave George a quick hug.
"Thanks for ruining my night," she said very seriously, "I'll let you know how it turns out. We can't have shit like this going down. What were you doing there anyway?"
"Looking for a lead on Malfoy," said Ginny, claiming her own hug, "Thought Crabbe might know where he is. Think you could ask him?"
Alicia blinked at her.
"You're looking for Malfoy?"
"Yeah, Herm-"
"We think he knows something about what happened to Hermione," said George quickly. The fewer people who knew that Hermione was lucid the better.
Alicia looked from Ginny to George and back again.
She bit her lip.
"Look." She scratched her head, "Don't go looking for Malfoy, ok? Just… don't."
George frowned.
"Alicia?"
"You won't find him, don't look."
"Alicia, what's going on?"
Alicia sighed.
"I can't say. But use your noggin, George. MLE is telling you not to look."
George's frown deepened.
"Ministry killed him?"
Alicia made an exasperated noise and threw up her hands.
"Don't be daft! I have to go. You'll work it out. But don't go nosing around. You'll never look in the right place anyway, and you shouldn't."
"But-"
"Is that a clue?" demanded Ginny, "Should we look in the wrong place?"
"I have legal obligations," said Alicia, nodding slightly, "I have to go. Love to the rest of the Weasleys."
As they stepped back out into the night and rounded the corner to the apparition point, George wrapped his arm around Ginny's shoulder and gave her a squeeze.
"She's ok, Gin."
"I know,"
"That was really inventive,"
"I know; I'm brilliant."
"Hot chocolate?"
Ginny paused.
"Yes. But only because we have to work out why on earth MLE would have Malfoy in protective custody."
George sighed.
"I hate this quest."