Based on characters created by J. K. Rowling
Chapter 2—The Siren
Charlie walked the short way into the bunk house-dormitory area. He couldn't believe that someone would kill a baby American Red. Okay, so they weren't cute, cuddly, or fluffy, and had a face only a mother could love. They had a tendency to belch noxious gas and flames and their farts could strip a mesquite, but that was no reason to kill them.
The mood in the common room was somber. Apparently everyone had heard about the Red. Charlie grabbed a cup of coffee and a burrito and sat down to read the newspaper, the American Daily Prophet. There were a couple of interesting editorials about the need to better educate the future generations on the basics of wizardry and discouraging home schooling (absolutely!) and the argument against increasing the Auror Department's budget (bullshit). There was nothing in the paper about the dragons, but there was a picture of him and his girlfriend and Jordan and Joanna at a party in Hamilton. He's whispering something in Minerva's ear and she's smiling shyly. Charlie smiled. He thought it was a good picture of her. He decided that he would send the picture to her. She wasn't used to the publicity yet and the picture would probably make her squirm.
Charlie wasn't tired yet; but he had worked 12 hours and needed to get some sleep. One advantage to working nights was that he didn't have time to go out drinking and the bars were probably closed by now. He folded the newspaper and yawned. He should be able to stay up for a few hours, but now he was dead tired and wanted to go to bed.
When he got to his room, Jack was already in bed. He was working nights as well and patrolling in another sector. He was working with their friend Pete and Scott Benson. Jack was reading a daily report and was shaking his head sadly.
"This doesn't make any sense, Charlie." He said, handing the report to him. "There have been no reports of gun shots and you have to know that the shots have got to be loud. We're talking about a 50 caliber muggle rifle. I can't believe no one saw anything."
Charlie perused the report, and then shook his head. "I don't believe it either. What does this tell you? We're assuming that the culprit is a muggle, but is it? Could a muggle go in without being seen or without making any noise?"
Jack thought about that. "That's a good point. But why would a wizard fire a rifle or worse, want to kill a magical creature? That just doesn't make any sense either."
"I'd like to know what will happen to the muggle, if it is one, when they're caught." Charlie said pointedly.
"I'd like to have about 10 minutes alone with the guy." Jack said.
"You and me, both, brother. I'm thinking the cruciatus curse would be most appropriate." Charlie was serious. He couldn't think of another soul that deserved the painful curse more.
Jack yawned. "I'm with you, Charlie." He yawned again. "What's going on with Mike?"
"What do you mean?" Charlie asked. "He seemed okay with me. A little quiet, why?"
"I just heard that he and Lindsey were having problems." Jack said.
Charlie didn't respond. That was not his business. He hated gossip. Charlie was about to tell Jack that it wasn't his business, but he looked over and Jack was already asleep.
Charlie sat up for a couple of hours writing letters, then read some of the mail he'd had piled up for a while. After a while he drifted off to sleep. Charlie's room was magicked to make it appear as if it were night time. It was relatively quiet because the other shift had already left for the day. He would sleep for a couple of hours before heading out to the desert. He wanted to find the spot where the baby Red was found. Surely, if it was a muggle there would be evidence left that may lead to who did it. Jack was partially right, what wizard would use a muggle rifle when he had magic? And why would a wizard destroy a living creature? Wizards weren't killers of any creature; man or beast.
Charlie had to get permission to go to the site due to security reasons, which he did. He promised he wouldn't contaminate the scene. Investigators had been to the scene and looked for evidence, so there was probably nothing left. Still, he wanted to see for himself.
He flew to the area, and was surprised to find several wizards still there. He knew a couple of the people working the scene and wandered over to them. They greeted him when he approached.
"Hi Charlie," said Olivia, one of the investigators. "I thought I'd find you out here sooner or later." She smiled at him.
"We haven't found much, I'm afraid. You'd think they'd be more evidence, but it's pretty clean. I'm thinking the Red was shot somewhere else and then moved here while it was still alive. There were some footprints, and some other stuff, but not much."
"How could a muggle do that without making a hell of a lot of noise and how could they move a seven and a half ton creature?" Charlie asked.
Olivia shrugged. "I don't know."
"You're not ruling out a wizard, are you? He asked.
"We're not ruling out anything at this point." Olivia said candidly. "It is odd, though, isn't it? Everyone's assuming it's a muggle, but at this point, it doesn't make any sense."
"I'm beginning to believe muggles couldn't do this on their own." Charlie said. "Can't you tell if magic's been used?" He had heard that it was possible to detect previous magic activity. He was certain there was some kind of a spell or maybe just a feeling, he didn't know. He wasn't the investigator.
Olivia looked at him oddly. "That sure would help," she said cryptically.
The investigators were generous with the information they had discovered, but he doubted they would tell him everything. He did pick up on the notion that they weren't completely eliminating wizards as possible suspects.
"Was there anything odd about the Red when it was found?" Charlie asked.
"You mean besides being riddled with bullets?" Olivia asked. "The body's being necropsy'd now. I think they're bringing in the best dragon expert in the world, Constantin Dragomir and his team from Romania."
Charlie knew Dragomir; he was the director for the sanctuary in Romania and he used to be his boss. Brilliant, thought Charlie. Charlie found out later that Dragomir's team consisted of Hortensia Zabini, Marguerite Krueger, and Thomas Godfrey. Charlie had worked with Hortensia, and knew that Thomas Godfrey had once worked at the American preserve several years before Charlie.
Charlie went back to the infirmary and tried to get some information, but Padmai Hoerner wasn't on duty, and he wasn't able to find anything out. He'd talk to Padmai later; he was sure she'd tell him more.
Mike came in two hours before he was supposed to go on duty. He told Charlie he had to talk to someone about his schedule. He needed to be home at night or he would find himself kicked out of his house. Charlie hated to lose his partner, but he understood family obligations. He liked Lindsey a lot and hoped they could work out their problems. It must be difficult for a muggle to try to raise two spirited wizard children, especially with Mike gone at night and sleeping most of the day. Once the animal that was killing the dragons was caught, they could return to their normal lives.
When Charlie reported for his shift, Mike was not there. Genevieve greeted Charlie and said it was just the two of them tonight. Another keeper would be available tomorrow to replace Mike. Mike must have convinced the head office that he was serious about changing shifts; Charlie had never seen anyone move that quickly before. He must have threatened to quit or something as drastic.
Charlie and Genevieve replaced the three wizards on duty and began by flying the perimeter. They flew in opposite directions and crossed at the point that the muggle highway crossed the preserve. It was Saturday evening and if last night was bad, tonight was looking to get a lot worse.
By the time darkness fell completely, a strange mystical fog had covered the desert floor. That wasn't a good sign, thought Charlie. There's going to be something eerie goings-on in the desert and he prayed the muggles would stay away.
Charlie landed at a spot near the highway to investigate what looked like an arachnid trying to cross the road. The giant spiders did not need to be out in the open like that; they were a very well kept secret, and if one of them became road kill, that certainly would send the tabloids out to the desert. Using a hover charm, Charlie moved the spider out of the way and set it on the opposite direction.
He was about to mount his broom, when he saw a figure walking toward him. It looked like a woman crying. Oh shit, he thought, as he hid his broom next to a mesquite and started walking toward her.
"Ma'am," he said politely. "Are you all right?"
The woman kept walking toward him, holding out her arms in a pleading motion. As she came closer, Charlie stopped dead in his tracks. It was Diana Gentry, a reporter for a celebrity magazine that he had recruited to write about dark magic in America. But that was impossible. Diana was dead. She had been killed by an evil dark lord by the name of Ares.
"Charlie," she cried out, weeping. "Please help me. Don't let me die. I thought you were going to save me. Why couldn't you save me?" she asked reaching out to him. She suddenly turned away from him and started out away from the highway.
Charlie started following her; but just when he thought he was catching up, she slipped away further. He kept walking, calling to her. Suddenly, he was caught up in the misty fog that surrounded him. He could no longer see her, but she kept calling out for him. Charlie wanted to save her this time. If he got closer he could save her life and she wouldn't be dead. She would forgive him for letting her die.
Out of the mist he watched as the figure came back to him. But when she turned around, it wasn't Diana but a horribly grotesque figure dressed completely in black. It was hooded and Charlie realized that it had vacant eyes and an ugly slash of a mouth and no nose. It was a dementor, or at least the horrible thing reminded him of a dementor. But it wasn't happiness that was been sucked from him; it was life itself. This creature wanted him dead. If he just followed the creature, he could be with Diana and Fred and his friend Tonks. They were waiting for him.
Yes, he thought, it would be good to die. Diana would forgive him for killing her. He felt calm and at peace. He was about to surrender when he heard someone frantically calling his name.
"I have to go," he told the Diana figure. "I can't stay."
"Charlie, you have to stay with me," she implored. It was Diana's voice but it was the ugly creature that was pulling him further into the mist.
He felt something tugged at his cloak behind him, pulling him away from the mist; away from Diana. No, he thought, I want to go, I have to save her.
"Charlie!" Came the voice from behind him. "Come on, Charlie. We have to go. Please," the voice pleaded.
Charlie turned around and saw Genevieve pulling on him.
"Please don't go, Charlie. Come back. I need you." Genevieve pulled with all her might. She was crying, too, but hers were the tears of frustration. Somehow she knew that if he stopped further into the mist, he would be lost forever.
Finally, after one huge tug, she pulled Charlie and he fell on top of her and they both landed on the ground. The mist disappeared, rolling away as if blown by the wind.
It took several seconds before Charlie knew where he was. He was sitting on top of Genevieve who was still holding on to her.
"Fuck me," said Charlie, still a little shaky. He got to his feet and pulled up Genevieve. "So that's what a siren does. Thanks, Genevieve. You saved my life. That was weird." He was shaking and could barely stand.
"Let's get out of here." Genevieve said, helping him steady himself.
"How did you find me?" Charlie asked as they walked toward the highway.
"I was flying and saw you start into the fog."
"Did you see her?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I didn't see anything. But something was pulling you into the fog. I thought that if you went into the fog you'd never come out. I was so scared."
He hugged her. "Thank you. That was very quick thinking on your part. I kept thinking that I wanted to die; I wanted to be with Diana and my brother, Fred. And Tonks." He shivered.
It took him an hour to recover from the siren attack. He was left weak and still had random thoughts of joining his brother and his friends in the afterlife, but the feeling passed.
"Have you ever heard of dementors?" he asked her as they were ready to begin their next pass around the perimeter.
Genevieve thought for a second. "No, I haven't. What did you call them?"
"Dementors, he repeated. " They used to guard Azkaban Prison. They are hooded foul looking creatures that suck all the happiness out of you and then steal your soul. These creatures must be their country cousins."
"I have heard about sirens all my life, but I never knew what they did or why they did it. We've rescued muggles from sirens, but I guess we got to them before they actually started working on them. My brothers used to scare me with them, but I don't think they knew what they really were either."
"Well," said Charlie. "Now we both know. And I sincerely hope I never see one of them again."
Charlie was sure it the rest of the evening was going to get even worse. And he was right. The highway was busy that night. It must have been payday or a holiday because muggles were everywhere. One drunken asshole tried to fight with Charlie when he told him to turn around. He got in one good swing that connected with Charlie's jaw. The punch would have probably knocked the average person to his knees, but Charlie wasn't your average person. He hooked an instinctive counter punch to the man's solar plexus and the man went down hard.
"Sorry about that," Charlie apologized, helping the man to his feet. The man tried to take another swing, but Charlie quickly subdued him with a punch to his nose, breaking it with a sickening crunch.
The woman in the car was giving Genevieve a hard time too, yelling drunkenly about police brutality and other nonsense. Finally, Genevieve stopped being polite and hexed with a silencing spell.
"This creep shouldn't be driving," Genevieve said, finally, after they had gotten them back into their car.
Charlie agreed and placed a protective charm around the car, killed the engine and let them sleep it off. He would release the charm before daylight and they would drive out of the desert confused, but sober.
After the fourth pass, Charlie and Genevieve came across an old van pulled up beside a lone butte. They flew silently and landed about thirty yards away from a huge bon fire. There were about a dozen men and women dancing around the fire. And they were all naked.
Charlie rolled his eyes when he saw them. "Shit, I wish this shift was over."