Chapter Four

The Blood Traitors

1

It wasn't long before Agape used the Floo network to transport herself to the large home of Kermit and Melencolia Snook – and hiding place of the Blood Traitors.

The large living room of the Snook residence was gloomy, all its grandeur done no justice by the hazy light creeping placidly through the drapes covering the tall windows. However, as Agape stepped out of the fireplace, her highly acute eyes could see every intricate detail of the fine room – including the ancient old man wearing a maroon day robe lined with a layer of short black fur. He was sleeping, or so it seemed, in a wingback chair with his left hand loosely grasping the silver head of a sleek mahogany cane.

"Good day, Mr. Snook," Agape said after stepping directly in front of him. She knew the ninety-three-year-old wasn't asleep; he just didn't want to be bothered by company. "I believe I'm expected."

"Expected to what, Agape?" croaked the old man, his keen green eyes snapping open to observe her.

"Expected to speak with the little group you've hidden in your basement," she replied, grinning at him. "Am I allowed to pass, old Gatekeeper? Not that you could stop me," she added.

She dodged a swipe from his cane and chuckled.

"Kermit," called a reproachful yet bored voice from the hall, "don't assault houseguests. I thought we talked about this when you boxed Alton's ears." It was the mistress of the house, Melencolia Snook. Though also in her nineties, she was just as straight-backed and dignified as she would have been at thirty.

"He deserved it," Kermit muttered to Agape.

"Hello, Mrs. Snook," Agape said politely, even as she gave the old man a wink.

Being one of the few allowed to enter the highly secretive Snook house besides the Blood Traitors, Melencolia had a pleasant smile for her. This was a real complement coming from the old woman. She wasn't prudish in any way but she wasn't overly friendly – or gracious to tell the truth – a trait that often reminded Agape of one of those tales about ancient women war generals: coarse and proud.

"Harry sent me over," she told the two of them. "He couldn't make it today – trouble at work, unfortunately."

"Pitty," Melencolia said, sounding genuinely disappointed. "Would you like some tea?"

"That would be lovely. Thank you," Agape answered. She felt she needed some form of caffeine before looking in on the Blood Traitors.

"They're all in the basement. I'll have Cody bring you a pot as soon as it's ready."

Then she turned from the room, her lengthy green robes swinging around her ankles, and moved down the hall toward the kitchen, dispassionately calling, "Come, Cody." A house elf skittered past the doorway from the other end of the hall to follow Mrs. Snook.

Agape saw that Mr. Snook had truly fallen asleep this time, so she quietly left him and headed for the basement.

As no sounds could get through the basement door, she couldn't hear the commotion inside until someone replied to her knock.

"Oh. Hello Agape," said a small girl named Sydney Ingram, who had poked her head out of the door.

Sydney, or Syd, was a French born, yet half British raised seventeen-year-old who had been turned into a werewolf three years ago and later dropped out of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in her sixth year. She'd joined the Blood Traitors when she was only sixteen.

"Hello, Sydney," Agape said to her. "Could you let me in?"

The girl frowned briefly, though she didn't hesitate to open the door. "Enter at your own risk," she said, her small voice rather bitten. "They're going crazy right now."

Agape slid past her and descended the stairs into a growing flurry of raised voices. Once her heels hit the cement floor she could clearly see the work place of the Blood Traitors. It was a long room roughly the size of a large classroom with five desks of varying sizes configured in a U-shape and an enormous oval table in the very back. Each of the desks was cluttered with some type of equipment or another: personal computers, laptops, a couple of mobile phones, a sneakoscope, scattered pens and paper, a random pare of socks – one desk even had a carburetor on it. Always wanting to utilize both magic and Muggle technology, the lair was full of non-magic items laced with all kinds of spells.

Only two people were bustling around these desks, dodging swivel chairs, while others were clustered in small groups around the room speaking loudly or going over pages of parchment. Their conversations melded together, making it impossible to focus on one alone.

Agape wondered what had gotten them into such an uproar – obviously, something big. 'Of all the visits for Harry to be gone…'

"Where's Harry," Syd inquired curiously from behind, apparently thinking along the same line.

"He couldn't make it," Agape answered distractedly.

"Too bad – maybe he could save the day," said Sydney.

Agape grinned over her shoulder at the girl. "Never thought I'd hear that coming from a Blood Traitor's lips."

A sudden spike in the shouting pulled her back to the others. Several of them were now yelling across the basement, asking for things or just fighting. Agape could hear shouts of "This computer is a piece of sh- " cut off by, "We can't do that! It's dark magic!" or "Alton, can you please do something?"

This question was answered by an irritated male voice: "How 'bout I sit here and talk while you ignore everything I say? You seem to be fond of that. See? I already am, and you're already not paying attention."

Agape could finally see the red-haired man through the crowd of Blood Traitors milling around. He looked as if he were being forced to baby sit twelve preschoolers.

"I'm not sure Alton is taking to being in charge," Sydney stated, with a frown.

"It wouldn't appear so, would it?" Agape agreed. "Where are Jules and Roman?"

Sydney shrugged and gave a look that told Agape that was exactly why everything was so chaotic. Then the girl walked away to be of use somewhere.

Agape found herself standing beside Payton Fenton, who was sitting with her legs drawn up to her chest in a chair near the stairs. They gave each other polite smiles.

"How are you?" Agape asked.

Payton's grimace said everything that her mouth couldn't.

Harry's file on Payton was rather incomplete, but Agape had learned about her last year during her short stay at the Snook home. A few years ago Payton had been kidnapped by the Welsh Optimates group and made into a pet for their leader. They shaved her head, wiped her memory and removed her vocal cords magically. She was then tortured until her mentality resembled that of a dog. She was not the only one the Neos had done this to, but she was the only one found alive.

Because rescuing prisoners of the Optimates seemed to be a Blood Traitor specialty, Payton ended up with them as well. With their help, she was slowly managing to come out of her tortured state of mind and learn Sign language to communicate. Her black hair was growing back and was still quite short, but at least it resembled a real haircut now.

Alton especially had taken an instant interest in her – having been used as a lab rat himself by the Optimates. He had been a captive for a month and the experiments they'd used on him had landed him with fire breathing powers which forced him to wear a mask almost constantly. He'd eagerly learned to Sign with Payton so they could always talk – which, Agape noticed, they did quite often.

Agape looked around again, this time counting heads and finding nearly everyone present.

She noticed that Syndey had gone to examine a computer with Celeste Haywood, who was, in a way, the group's technical support. Being a Muggle, she was usually very good with the computers and phones that Alton had rigged with magic, but she was currently having problems with a frozen computer screen.

Celeste didn't have her normal weighty amount of eye makeup on – she probably hadn't had time – but, as always, her long mousy brown hair was pulled into a loose bun that was little more than a malformed loop. Like Sydney, she had been bitten by a werewolf at a young age – seventeen. As the only currently living Muggle werewolf, Celeste had had it equally bad, if not worse than her younger friend. In fact, after Remus Lupin (Head of the Werewolf Registration Office) first revealed the magical world to her and her parents, he had recommended to them a sort of support group for werewolves. That was where she'd met and bonded closely with Sydney and Logan.

The werewolves were not the only semi-humans in the group either. Agape peered around the room again and found the two vampire members: Imogene Fahy and Yvette Montalais. Both blond and both beautiful even in their pallid emaciation.

Imogene was imperially perched on the edge of the large oval table in the back of the room, running her fingers through her pale thigh-length hair while several Traitors argued over Alton's head. She was one of the few placid people in the basement; never one to get flustered or hurried. Imogene, or Ima for short, had been in Albus Dumbledore's class at Hogwarts, making her one-hundred-seventy-four years old. Agape hoped she still looked like a twenty-seven-year-old when she got to that age too.

Yvette was the flashier of the two. She was actually the same age as Agape (just two years shy of thirty) but would forever look like a seventeen-year-old. If she had made some better choices while alive, Yvette could have been a super model (a fact Agape was uncomfortably aware of when they stood in the same room). She wore sexy Parisian clothes over her tall, long limbed body and her golden hair hung immaculately around her bare shoulders. One thing that consoled the Auror-in-training was that Yvette had been a rubbish witch when she was alive. She claimed Imogene had saved her "life" when she made her a vampire, and the two had been inseparable since then.

At the moment, Yvette was having a row with Augustus Schmitt, the only Blood Traitor who worked in the Ministry. Gus was quite tall and lanky, with rust-colored hair, no chin, and a large nose that supported square-shaped glasses. Born to a well-off old pure-blood family, he didn't have the tragic life story that came with most of the Traitors. He had actually liked his semi-exciting work-filled life as assistant to the Head of Investigations. However, once Roman crossed over to the light side, the only Ministry worker he would give information to was Gus – making the rather nervous fellow's life much more chaotic than he'd ever planned. Now, nearly ten years later, he was one of the five original Blood Traitors and the only one who always kept the law in mind.

"I just can't see why this is- is so hard to understand, Yvette," he was now saying, his face flushed from trying to hold back his temper. "What you're talking about is illegal on so many levels it – well, it would guarantee us all cells in Azkaban!"

"An excellent point," Atlon added half-heartedly between them. He was sitting in a chair as they argued above his messy unnaturally colored hair.

"Ha! They wouldn't be able to lay their prudish Brit hands on me – they never have," Yvette declared, her French-ness suddenly much more prominent than before.

"Someone's arrogant," Alton commented, knowing quite well that no one was listening.

"What do you think Aurors are for? And what about the Registration office?" Gus snapped, loosing his patience with her. "I could arrest you myself!"

"You tell her, Gussy. Sic her! Show her who's boss!"

"Don't call me Gussy, Alton."

"Oh, now you're listening."

"Alton," said the voice of Logan Bireley, and Alton spun around in his chair to face him. "Is there anyone else who would help us? Who else do we know in the Ministry?"

Alton's annoyed visage melted into something like concern as his thin, but expressive eyebrows furrowed deeply. "Celeste and I are going to talk to as many people as we can, mate. She's looking up some people right now."

Logan nodded and let out a heavy breath as he ran his fingers through his messy brunet hair. Agape noticed that the stubble on his square jaw was a bit longer than usual and his skin was a little paler.

In most of the Blood Traitor files, Harry had written notes on each individual. Agape recalled that he had labeled thirty-three-year-old Logan as the unofficial leader of the BT werewolves, but had concluded that he held no other discernable title within the group. She thought this rather odd as he was one of the founding members, but chalked it up to his docile character.

"You said Harry was coming today?" Logan asked Alton as Yvette and Gus moved their fight over to the large oval table.

"Yeah. I hope he gets here soon, because we could really use his help," said Alton.

Agape had walked over by that point and her eyebrows rose as she heard his confession. "Wow," she said. "You're the second person to say that since I came down here. Harry is going to get a big head after I tell him how much you don't hate him."

Alton's narrow eyes widened with sudden hope and relief at the sight of the Ministry worker. "Merlin's beard, I'm glad you're here! Where's Potter?"

Logan looked at her expectantly as well.

"He's handling a new case," Agape told them. "What's going on here? I haven't seen you all so riled up since the Daily Prophet printed that article about you being possible murderers."

"My daughter," Logan answered immediately, "she's been kidnapped."

Agape's mouth dropped open. "Another child?"

"What?"

"Harry's newest case is finding missing kids," she explained. "He was at a kidnapping scene just this morning."

"Liberty Kimber, right? She's my daughter!" Logan rushed over to her and grabbed her arm, looking stricken. "Does he know anything yet? Is he already searching?"

Agape couldn't believe it. No wonder the Blood Traitors were going mad. "Logan, I'm so sorry. If I had known… I thought your daughter's name was Bireley, like you," she said.

"No, her mother changed her name," he replied dismissively. "Please tell me Harry is trying to find her."

"Of course he is," she assured him, placing a hand on his, which was gripping her arm like a vise. He loosened his grasp, but his surprising change in demeanor demanded more of a response from her. "That's why he couldn't come today – he's working as fast as he can to get her back before something bad…" And then she didn't know how to finish. She wanted that anxious expression on Logan's face to be soothed, but she didn't know how to do it, so she closed her mouth.

He looked severely disappointed as he released her arm. "I knew I should have stayed at the Ministry longer," he muttered to Alton.

"You can go back if you want," Alton told him, "Gus would probably go with you."

"Oy! Alt, your stupid computer is still-"

"Later, Celeste," Alton growled loudly, his impatience now returning full force. "Maybe if you stopped calling it a piece of sh-"

Syd suddenly shouted, "Roman's here!"

All conversations paused as everyone looked up at the tall, black haired man coming down the stairs.

Logan was the first to take action. In barely a second, he was already across the basement and standing at the foot of the steps.

"Logan," Roman said to his friend as he reached him – but he never finished his sentence.

"Where is she?" Logan demanded.

Roman's frown deepened at the man's threatening tone. "I don't know," he admitted.

"You're supposed to know everything about them! How could you not have known this was going to happen? Tell me where my daughter is!"

"I don't know," Roman said again flatly, staring at Logan as if he had never truly seen him before.

"THEN WHAT GOOD ARE YOU!" Logan shouted.

"Logan!" said Alton in surprise.

Roman's stony face was tense. He seemed to be waiting for some greater show of fury, as if he expected Logan to throw a punch at him. The entire basement stopped moving and waited as well, like an edgy herd of deer anticipating a predator's pounce.

"Merlin's beard," sighed Alton. "I'll be glad to see Jules back."

"Logan," Gus stammered, "Roman had nothing to do with this. It's not his fault."

"Like hell," Logan bit viciously. "How can one of Odin's favorite henchmen not know what's going on in the underworld?"

Roman regarded him darkly. "I seem to have fallen out of grace recently," he answered. "That tends to happen when you fail every mission you're sent on."

"Well," Logan said, "what do you say, Luciano? Any plan of action for your team?"

It was a challenge plain and simple. Agape just couldn't wrap her brain around how uncharacteristically hostile Logan was acting. Of course, he had every right to feel the way he did – he was desperate. Who knew what the Optimates might be planning for his little girl?

"Do you?" Roman asked evenly.

Logan really did look as though he might hit Roman then. Instead he remained rooted rigidly to the spot with no answer to the question.

Roman gestured to the big oval table in the back of the basement. "Everyone sit down. We need to figure out what we're going to do."

The Blood Traitors, Logan included, did as he said and headed to the table.

As a future Auror, Agape could see that all of this chaos was merely demonstrating how inexperienced they were as a unit. Harry would be very smug were he present; they were proving that he had been right all along. Not that Harry thought they were total rubbish; he simply didn't like how arrogant the amateur group was about their talent. Half the time, they rushed headlong into dangerous situations thinking they could take on just about anything and survive. Agape reckoned they didn't think it could get much worse than what most of them had already been through, so it flustered them when things went downhill.

Agape followed the group and sat down at the table as well. Only ten of the working Traitors were there, missing their leader Julissa, and the only member still in school at the time. There was a large pot of tea in the center of the table and cups for each of them including Agape. Apparently Mrs. Snook's house elf, Cody, had delivered it while they were distracted. No one took any and the pot remained untouched throughout the conference.

Roman didn't sit, choosing to stand behind his chair instead. Agape recalled his file very clearly in her memory. He was twenty-nine-years-old, Pure-blood, born in Italy and schooled in France. He ended up involved in a very powerful group of Optimates as soon as he moved to Britain at nineteen. There were things that he'd seen, crimes he'd committed that he still refused to talk about. Wanting to mend his mistakes, he came in contact with Gus and started passing information on the Optimates for the Ministry to use. Like Alton and Logan, Roman helped to form the Blood Traitors.

Harry had made a few notes about him on his file: Deep inside the Optimates; very talented; speaks five languages fluently; dangerous.

Agape had frowned at this view of a man who once saved her life. She knew that Roman was double crossing the Neos, but she'd never gotten the impression that he was dangerous – despite his criminal record.

"I do have something useful," the Italian said finally, glancing at Logan once before continuing. "A courier came to Odin yesterday morning. She gave him a note that I managed to salvage." He took a small folded piece of parchment out of his pocket and tossed it to Logan first.

Logan grimly opened it and read aloud:

"Dearest friend,

"I would thank you for the use of N.Q. this evening before sundown. I will brief him myself on his job at our client's home.

-Your grateful comrade"

Once he had finished, Alton took the letter from his hand and looked it over for himself as Roman continued.

"I don't know who N.Q. is, but I've seen the initials before. He's an Optimus without a code name. The 'client' is obviously Liberty Kimber – client is a Neo word for victim," he explained to Agape.

"Who wrote the note?" inquired a blond man named Ferris Thorpe, another original BT. He had joined because he had been attacked several times (once at Hogwarts) for being the son of the only Muggle to fight alongside his witch wife in the magic war against Voldemort – that, and because his leader, Julissa Culver, was also his girl friend. He was the group's makeshift medi-wizard. Harry seemed to hold a great respect for Ferris, saying that he was probably the most rational and thus most overlooked member.

"Morrigan wrote it," Roman answered him.

Payton shifted uncomfortably in her chair. At first Agape racked her brain to remember who the name belonged to; it then dawned on her from Payton's reaction that Morrigan was the one who'd muted the short-haired woman and kept her as a pet. She was also one of the seven leading Optimates, a queen of the underground in Wales.

"So why would Morrigan want Logan's daughter in particular?" Ferris asked. "Why no one else?"

"There may be many more," Agape interjected. "Harry seems to think these other disappearances are related to the Otimates as well. He wanted to know about vampires associated with the Neos because of Liberty's kidnapping." She suddenly remembered the note in her pocket that the Auror had given to her and handed it to Roman. "This is from him for Jules."

Roman regarded the sealed message briefly before nodding and pocketing it.

"Well, Potter is right," he admitted. "Only it looks like Liberty is being used as an example to threaten Logan and the rest of us."

"It's because we're the only group who successfully infiltrated Morrigan's little Welsh hidey-hole," Alton added, his humorless smirk obvious even beneath the dragon skin mask covering his mouth.

"What do you mean by threat? Like a hostage?" said Sydney.

"No," Roman told her bleakly, "she won't be used as a hostage."

"Great," Celeste groaned. "Not only is Odin after us, now his 'Dearest friend' the psycho-cow, is going after children."

Logan pressed on, ignoring the others' comments. "How do we get Liberty back? What options do we have?"

"First we have to find her," Roman told him, then he turned to Payton. "She's probably not where we found you, Payton, but if she is anywhere in that place we'll certainly need your help."

Payton nodded forlornly. Agape saw the color drain from Logan's face at the thought of his little girl in Morrigan's clutches.

"I do have one idea," Roman continued, "I'd have to go underground for a day or two, but-"

"A day or two?" Logan interrupted in horror.

"What!" said Alton at the same time. "We can't have both you and Jules underground at a time like this! Are you barmy?"

"It's the only thing I can think of," Roman snapped at them, his normally calm features strained with frustration. "If I can talk to some people I know, I can find the courier who passed the communications for this mission and she may be able to lead me to Liberty. And if not her, then someone else she knows who can."

"What makes you think she'll help you?" Gus pointed out.

"I'm bloody Odin's right hand. I outrank a courier, for Merlin's sake. She has to do what I say." He paused and took a deep breath, bracing his hands on the back of his chair. "Look, with our brilliant leader currently MIA, I'm doing the only thing I know of that might help. Liberty will not be the last one they take, so we have to get her safely back and put a stop to this before it gets too big for us. No sacrifice is too great – do everything you can," Roman told them.

"You heard Optimus Prime, everyone," Alton said from his chair, earning a glare from Roman. "No sacrifice is too great for freedom, so let's get to work. Ferris, keep trying Jules, maybe she'll pick up now. Imogene maybe you and Yvette can look into the vampire Optimates thing. And Celeste, could you get me our files on Morrigan's fortress just in case it turns out useful?"

The Blood Traitors rose from the table and scattered in different directions around the basement. Roman placed a hand on Alton's shoulder to stop him walking away as he told Gus to get back to the Ministry to find out their plan of action. Once Gus left, Roman turned on Alt.

"Who the hell is Optimus Prime?"

Alton raised an eyebrow at him, straining not to smirk too obviously. "You are," he said cautiously.

A folder was pressed into his chest by Celeste, who added flatly: "It's nerdy Muggle humor. Here's the folder you wanted, Alt."

Roman rolled is eyes and walked away as the shorter man took the folder, grinning slightly at Celeste. "If you knew what I was talking about, that makes you a nerd too," he pointed out.

"You think Roman is really going to be gone for days?" the plump woman inquired, ignoring his bait.

"Not if we can think of a better idea," Alt responded as Agape passed them and put a hand on Roman's shoulder.

His handsome olive skinned face turned toward her and she could see plainly for the first time since he'd arrived that he was very tired. "You know, what you said before – about this being too big for you," she reminded him. "Maybe it already is. Don't you think the Ministry might have a better idea on how to handle this?"

He leaned close to her and said determinedly: "I can't do nothing while the Ministry figures out what they want to do. I have the means to find her, and I will."

"By yourself?"

"What other choice do I have? Until we find out where she is, none of the others can help me." He swiftly moved away from her and climbed the stairs.

"What about Jules?" Agape offered, but he ignored her and only seemed more determined to get out of the basement.

"Hang on," Agape heard Alton say as he suddenly sprinted up the stairs after his fellow Blood Traitor. She followed, hoping she would be able to convince Roman to get more help before he disappeared into the underground.

Once on the first floor, Alton cried out again, "Oy! Wait!"

Roman, however, continued to walk away, ignoring his friend and aiming for the back door through the kitchen. Suddenly, Alton surged forward and caught hold of his arm.

"Wait a second," he begged hoarsely. "You can't just slink off. We need to get moving. Now."

"What do you think I'm doing," Roman barked back furiously, towering over the shorter man as he yanked his arm back and opened the door. Just before stepping out, Alt's desperate outburst stopped him in the doorway:

"You're supposed to be running this group, not me!"

He didn't look back at Alton, but his shoulders slumped tiredly as he stood framed in by the broad timber of the doorway. "I can't be in two places at once."

"First Jules," Alton muttered, "now you too. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"You've lead them before," Roman sighed.

Atlon rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Never on my own, though. If I'd known you'd be leaving so soon, I would've come up with some sort of plan."

"Alt…"

"Whatever, mate… I'll think of something. All I'm asking for is a bit of warning before you screw me over next time." He said it with an awkward laugh in his voice, but there was blatant bitterness there.

Roman finally left the doorway, calling over his shoulder, "I'll be back very soon." Then he was gone.

Alton turned on his heel but stopped when he saw Agape standing there. "Oh… er… hello." He cleared his throat and a bit of smoke curled upward from the top of his mask.

"Alton," she said hesitantly. "Should I call Harry?"

He chuckled, "Why? You think he'd be willing to put me out of my misery? By all means, yes!"

2

Later at the Ministry, Agape found Harry in his office swamped in papers. She explained the Blood Traitor situation.

"Hmm. So basically they fall apart without Culver, huh?" said Harry mater-of-factly. "I had a feeling she was the only glue of the group."

"Well, sort of," Agape agreed. "They are unorganized without her and Roman, but I think Alton can pull them together with a bit of help. He doesn't realize he's the heart of the Blood Traitors."

"Drake is in charge? Oh, God help us."

"Harry," she scolded. "He's plenty capable – and he is one most willing to let you help."

"We are talking about Drake, right – the one who punched me in the face last December?"

"Harry," repeated, rolling her eyes. "After what you did to him, I'd say you're quite even."

"Didn't these people hate me just last week because I don't let them get away with everything?"

"They've never hated you," ("Don't make me laugh!") "They just see you as the 'Man'. You know how touchy they are about the government. And I'll remind you that it was Alton who protected both Ginny and me last December."

"Yeah, and we see how well that turned out."

"Stop being a git."

"Okay," Harry admitted, "you're right. I should give the bloke more credit."

"Yes, you should."

"So what do they need?"

Agape thought for a moment. What she wanted to say sounded painfully like an after-school special, but she said it anyway: "They need some support from someone with much more experience. You've been a vigilante in the Order for longer than you've been an Auror and you have knowledge of the case. Just include them."

Harry paused, thinking over what she'd said. "I suppose they could help me as well. I'll need all the facts I can get on the Neos for this one and no one knows them as well as the Blood Traitors."

Agape smiled hugely, finally feeling she had done some good. "Brilliant! So, how is the case coming?"

"I've been going through this bloody file all day," he said wearily, "just trying to update it. Take a look at these photographs." He rummaged underneath a stack of loose parchment and found three pictures which he passed to her over his desk.

Along with Jules's there were now three more photos that were very familiar to Agape. One was of Yvette sitting on a couch in a dingy room; she looked blankly over her shoulder with empty eyes hooded in black eye makeup. It was obvious she wasn't a vampire at the time the photo was taken, but she looked drugged out and far too skinny.

Harry reached out and tapped the picture with his forefinger. "That was taken when she was sixteen by the forty-five-year-old wizard she was living with. He was the last person to see her alive. Crocker put down that he was arrested for selling drugs and the bloke said Yvette had stolen his stash and taken it to London. You think there was any truth in that?"

Agape shrugged. "I don't know, but I'm positive Imogene found her in an alley in France before changing her."

Harry nodded and wrote something down as she flipped to the next photograph; this one was from a Muggle camera of a girl with long dark hair. She was grinning hugely as a handsome boy tugged on her arm to pull her out the doorway in the background. It took Agape a second to realize the girl was Payton.

"Wow, she looks very different," she said in awe.

Harry looked up and saw who she was peering at. He nodded soberly. "It took me a while before I figured out who she was. Her file doesn't say Payton – it says Heather Fenton. And do you remember how Jules told us they didn't know why she was kidnapped? Well, now I have an idea."

He shoved some folders out of the way and lifted stacks up as he searched. When he couldn't find what he was looking for in the untidiness he sighed and gave up, resigned to simply tell her out loud. "Apparently she has slight magical abilities that got her noticed in the Muggle world. She was almost hit by a bus, but ended up on the other side of the street before impact without knowing how she got there. Her boyfriend in the picture with her saw it, said the bus swerved and crashed into a pole, but she didn't have a mark. Crocker never wrote down the other incidents but her file says she got a lot of publicity in her town for being strange."

"But she never went to a magical school. Is she a Squib?"

"Both parents are Muggles," he replied. "She's like a regular person with slight artistic or athletic talents, only in her case she's a Muggle with slight magic talents. That would be enough of an insult to the Neo Death Eaters for them to torture her."

"She needs to know about this," Agape said, frowning at Payton's picture. "They helped her remember some things, but I don't think she knows she has any magical ability."

She moved the picture of Payton and found another Muggle photo underneath. A boy about eleven-years-old with red-brown hair stood between his parents in a holiday portrait with a mountain landscape in the background.

"That one was quite unsettling," Harry told her. "That boy is one of my little girl's best friends before he came to Hogwarts. I learned a lot about him from his file."

"Trevor Vaughn," Agape breathed. "Merlin's beard." The twelfth member of the Blood Traitors.

"His was one of the few up-to-date files. The Neo's took him and his Muggle parents to be experimented on and he was the only one to survive. I… I'm actually very worried about Trevor. I knew the Optimates had tried to hide him from the Ministry when he turned out to be a wizard accepted to Hogwarts-"

"Yes, that's why the Snooks asked to become his legal guardians," Agape remembered promptly. "They said they were afraid the Neos were trying to use him for something terrible."

As if struggling with some inner turmoil, Harry glared at his desk for a moment before continuing. "They were right, Agape. The disappearances of kids between five and twelve have doubled since he was discovered. If he was experimented on and is still alive, that means there's something he hasn't told us – like the reason Optimates would be interested in taking kids."

"So these kidnappings are definitely connected to Death Eaters?" Agape asked, leaning closer.

"As far as I can tell, almost half the children I've read about today can be tied to them, yes. But, there are others that have nothing to do with Optimates – like Yvette."

Still, the thought sent a chill up Agape's spine.

"Harry – I want to help you with this case as much as possible. I don't care about missing my training classes. I'll do anything just to help."

Harry studied her, trying to make a decision. "Okay," he said finally, "I understand. But I don't want you failing your classes – that won't do anyone any good."

There was a long pause in which Agape took a closer look at Harry's paper filled office.

"Harry, have you still not found an assistant?"

He gestured to the multiple stacks piling up on his desk and her old one. "Unless there's one buried alive under these, no I haven't. It's amazing; a few months without you lording over my desk and suddenly I'm worse off than I was before you came."

"I could give you a hand," she offered, feeling a bit smug.

"Agape, it's your day off – I'm not going to make you work for me."

"If you pay me, maybe I'll forget all about it being my day off."

"Training not very lucrative?"

"Very funny. Do we have a deal?"

Harry gave her an amused glance before pointing to her former desk. "If you can get rid of all of those papers today, I'll pay you double."

Agape chuckled. "What would you do without me?"

"Not much apparently."

(Wow, this chapter kicked my butt. It took so long to write, then rewrite, then edit, then re-edit. I thought I was gonna keel over! Any-hoo, I hope you enjoy! Next time on BT:L Will Ginny ever get her peanut butter and pickles?!)