Improvise, Adapt, Survive and Succeed

10 March, 2000

"What's your name?"

"Rolf. Rolf Scamander."

"No it isn't. Not no more. You don't get a name unless I give you one, and you ain't got one. Invisibles ain't got no names. Now, if you wanna get out of here and do your job you'd better start thinking less like Rolf and more like an Invisible, you got that? Go."

The silvery form of the hyena Patronus disappeared, returning the light in the small crumbling shack to its previous near-darkness. The only sound that could be heard was Rolf's ragged breaths. He crouched down next to the decrepit remains of a wardrobe and clutched his wand tightly. If he was going to accomplish his mission, if he was going to pass, he had to stop thinking like an Auror and more like an Invisible. He closed his eyes for a moment to remember the mission particulars.

Squib girl approximately six years old. Kidnapped by dark wizards who were planning some sort of unfathomable ritual that would leave only bits of flesh behind. Two person Invisibles group, him and his instructor. No backup. Less than twenty minutes to midnight and the ritual. Deep in the Bulgarian mountains, an abandoned village, out of British Auror jurisdiction.

Gathering all of his energy Rolf ran over to the window, jumped through and landed in the snow, rolling once until he was up on his feet, wand extended. The two wizards stood in dark red robes in the middle of a small clearing, the bound little girl on a stone table between them. One wizard held a knife close to the girl.

Incarcerous!

The spell shot out of Rolf's wand and struck the wizard holding the knife directly in the chest, but it did not have the effect it should have. Instead of binding the wizard with silvery ropes the tendrils sloughed off the man like water. The second wizard sent a killing curse towards Rolf but he had moved out of the way as if by instinct.

The chain of events that followed was over in a matter of seconds, but later on Rolf played it out over and over in his head. The wizard with the knife plunged it down into the chest of the little girl, and then brought it down again rapidly as her scream filled the air. The second wizard began to cast another curse but was cut down with a killing curse from outside the clearing. Rolf's Avada Kedavra hit the wizard with the knife square in the face, sending him down instantly. After that Rolf stood silently, unable to move as Instructor moved quickly towards the girl.

When he could move again he walked with shaking steps towards the stone table. "Is she…"

"No. I've stopped it for now but she's gonna need a Healer. Dammit, you're not an Auror, boy! Incarcerous? We'll have words when I get back."

Instructor bundled the girl in his arms, wrapped his robe around her and Apparated away quickly.

-ooo-

In a nondescript little office park in a nondescript part of London there sits a small building. Nobody goes there; in fact, nobody ever remembers ever seeing anyone go in or out of the building. Everyone that passes just assumes it was one of those companies that started up and then never went anywhere. They all pass by it and never give it a second glance, exactly as the Invisibles prefer. Muggles, the non-magical folk, just see it as a part of the landscape. Most wizards and witches think of it the same way. Only those who know exactly what it is know where to find the building.

Rolf Scamander knew where the building was as he sat in his little dormitory room on the bed with his head in his hands. His first mission as an Invisible had just completed and it was a complete, utter failure. The Spartan sparseness of the room did him no favors, as the grey walls were completely bare, the flat metal bed held only a thin mattress and only a faint light emanated from the ceiling.

"Scamander! Front and center!"

With a heavy sigh Rolf stood up, straightened his shoulders and walked into the center room. Instructor stood there behind a desk with a woman only known as Prime. As they stood there silently Rolf began going through his training as a mental exercise to quell his emotions.

Instructor is a male of approximately sixty years, grey hair, green eyes and speaks with a less-than-posh accent which betrays his working-class Muggleborn origins. Prime is a female of approximately forty years, blonde hair and blue eyes and…

"Scamander." Instructor conjured a chair in front of the desk. "Sit."

Rolf sat down quickly and silently. His heart was beating faster than a Snitch's wings.

Prime opened a folder. "Rolf Scamander. Grandson of Newt Scamander, former Headmaster of Hogwarts. Son of Triturus and Emily Scamander. Educated in various magical institutions throughout the continent. No fixed permanent address. Parents currently residing in Estonia for the last six months. Received Auror-level qualifications, attended initial Auror training in Ireland but did not finish. Recruited as an Invisible, completed the Wizard's Oath required of all Invisibles candidates, top of the class."

She closed the folder and looked him coldly in the eye. Rolf sat there for what seemed like an eternity, unable to even swallow.

"Scamander." She shook her head. "Remind us once again why you did not finish Auror training?"

The swallow before speaking almost made Rolf's throat bulge. "Difference of opinion."

"Differences of opinion." Prime nodded. "And what were those differences?" She saw him glance at the file. "Yes, I know it's in there but I want to hear it from you."

"Procedure, Prime." He took a deep breath. "Aurors are bound by proper procedure in the apprehension of suspects. Too much procedure. When dealing with a lethal individual or questioning a suspect more direct methods will produce the desired result."

"Yes." Prime nodded. "And who are the Invisibles?"

Rolf took a deep breath. "The Invisibles are a special force that has complete freedom to accomplish tasks beyond what the Aurors can do by law. We are the last line of defense and often the first line of offence against the worst elements of society. We are funded by the Ministry but are not recognized through any official channels. We do not exist. We are Invisible to society. Since we are invisible we are not bound by Ministry laws."

"Exactly!" Instructor slammed his hand on the desk. "So why the bloody hell did you use Incarcerous? Stop thinking like a goddamned Auror, boy! We're. Not. Fucking. Aurors!"

It was too much. Rolf felt everything build up inside him until he couldn't contain it any longer. "I could have hit the girl, ok? If I missed with the killing curse I could have hit the girl!"

Prime leaned over the desk and steepled her hands. "No spell-deflecting robes can withstand a killing curse. You took a chance. We don't take chances. Maybe we took too big of a chance accepting you. Trainee." As the words hung in the air Prime looked over to Instructor. "But it wasn't a total loss. Those two are dead. The Ministry has two less dark wizards on their list." She moved the chair back, picked up the folder and left the room.

Rolf stared at the floor, his stomach in his mouth. He knew it was the moment he'd been dreading, the moment that he was forever turned out of the Invisibles, the only place where he felt as if he was truly making a difference.

"Scamander." Instructor sat on the edge of the desk in front of him. "Look at me, boy." He gave Rolf a small envelope. "You've got two weeks to get your head clear. I can't have you out there like this. Remember, they don't always go this well. The girl will live. Won't make the papers, we fixed that. Besides, what Ministry official wants the world to know that dark wizards kidnapped his illegitimate squib kid? We got her back, there's no Auror paperwork that was mandatory and filed so the public can see, mission accomplished. I'm sure they'll get her a cute little eye patch."

"Eye patch?" Rolf's head snapped up sharply. "She lost an eye?"

Instructor nodded. "She'll be fine. Better one eye and alive than two eyes and dead. Or worse. You read the briefing. You know what they were planning." He sighed and put a hand on Rolf's shoulder. "Remember this, but don't let it eat you up, boy. Now get out of here and don't let me see your arse for two weeks. You're not on holiday, though, that's your next assignment. Try not to fuck that up."

Rolf nodded, stood up and slowly walked out.

-ooo-

As he made tea in the little flat that he'd rented, a tiny little place in the upstairs of a house in a sleepy magical village called Satterbourne, Rolf looked at the envelope several times before summoning the courage to open it. Eventually, though, he ripped open the envelope, took out the parchment and spread it upon the table. Thankfully it wasn't anything dangerous or life-threatening, just a surveillance job. Watch the targets, verify no dark wizards or other people violated the wards, ensure that the targets remained alive and above all avoid detection. Accompany targets when they leave the property but maintain hidden surveillance. Report in every other day via the usual methods. All in all, an easy mission.

After his tea Rolf went into the bedroom and looked in the mirror. His normal chestnut brown hair, down to his shoulders, wouldn't do. He took his wand and cast several glamour charms, turning his hair black, changing his skin to an olive complexion as opposed to his normal shade and made his eyes as brown as an oak. He slipped on an unobtrusive brown robe, shouldered a battered rucksack and left by the back staircase. His landlady would ask too many questions if she saw him looking unlike Mister William Windmere, her renter.

As he walked towards the surveillance location Rolf stopped for a moment, as he couldn't remember if the alias he gave his landlady was Windmere or one of his others. He pulled out a little black notebook from his robe, licked his finger and then ran his finger down the spine of the notebook. The clasp of the notebook clicked and then Rolf flipped through the pages until he found the entry, and after a few moments he was very glad that he did look at the notebook, as the flat was rented to Mister Jonathan Slipkirk, not Windmere. This gave Rolf pause; maybe Instructor did have a point. Maybe he did need to get his head right. He would have never forgotten which alias before Bulgaria.

-ooo-

He couldn't help it; he was thinking about Bulgaria when he arrived outside of the target location. The fact that the wards would signal anyone to his presence was one reason he stopped, but the other reason was that the house was, to be honest, the oddest thing he'd ever seen in his life. It looked like nothing so much as a giant tree that had been lopped off and had a house built into the trunk that remained. Even odder than that was the fact that except for the foliage beside the house there was nothing else on the plain. No trees, no shrubs, nothing. How was he supposed to do surveillance when there was no cover?

After putting up the cowl on his robe Rolf began to walk the perimeter of the wards, verifying their circumference. He knew that it was of vital importance for him to know exactly how far the wards extended if he was to be able to ensure the targets' safety. As he followed the wards around a sound began to emerge, only faintly at first, but then stronger. The sound of running water. His pace increased slightly as he made his way eventually towards a small little stream, no wider than thirty meters, that trickled slowly around the southern edge of the property. It was while he watched a small fish swim through the stream that he realized that he was not alone.

"Hello."

Rolf looked up to see a blonde woman about his age walk towards him. The woman was on the other side of the stream, but instead of walking across the stream and then towards him on the dry ground she walked through the stream until she stood in front of him. He noticed that she was barefoot as the water rushed by her legs.

"Are you here for the fishing?" She looked at him with a pleasant smile. "Daddy says the fishing isn't as good lately because of the lack of spinkleflies."

The Invisibles training kicked in quickly for Rolf. Target Two. Luna Lovegood, daughter of Xenophilius Lovegood, Target One. His orders were to observe and protect, not interact. Auror training would dictate that he would quickly leave the area and avoid all further contact. His Invisibles training, though, wasn't as restrictive. Improvise, adapt, survive and succeed. Instructor had drilled that into his head, and that's what he planned on doing.

"Sprinkleflies?" Rolf shook his head. "I don't know about those. Yes, I'm here for the fishing." He took out his wand, transfigured a small branch into a fishing rod and swung it over his shoulder nonchalantly. "I mostly use hinkypunk hairs. Tie a few together over a hook and it usually works well enough."

Luna tilted her head to the side momentarily. "I suppose. If the hinkypunks aren't molting. They do that, you know. Molt." She sat down in the middle of the stream and let the water rise up over her stomach. "I wouldn't like to molt. One day I forgot the sunshield spell and burnt myself horribly. The skin came off a few days later and I think that is what it must be like to molt."

Rolf couldn't decide if she was having a go at him so he decided to very gently try to use his skill at legillimency. He stretched his mind out towards hers, making it as soft and ephemeral as a little cloud floating through the summer sky. When his mind touched hers he didn't feel the jarring whir of other minds, the taste in his mouth that hinted of metal. Her mind was as calm and as peaceful as anything he'd ever experienced in his life.

"That's much nicer than what Harry said." Luna smiled at him. "He said when it happened to him it was like someone stuck a quill into his ear. Yours is nothing like that."

"What?" Rolf broke off his legillimency attempt immediately. "You felt that?"

"Oh yes. It was rather pleasant, like a hug." She stood up. "But I think I like the real ones better."

Rolf took a step back on the shore and extended his hand. "Jonathan Slipkirk."

Instead of shaking his hand Luna blinked at him several times. "You real name must be embarrassing. I think Jonathan Slipkirk is fine, though."

"Bloody hell." Rolf took a step back, stumbled, and then fell down on his arse. He shook his head at her in disbelief. "Are you a seer?"

She sat down next to him on the banks of the stream and crossed her legs. "No, I don't have the gift. Daddy thought I did once but that's just because I found my Christmas presents early that year."

Improvise, adapt, survive and succeed. Rolf quickly recalled the briefing and lit upon a solution. If it worked it would be the out he needed; if it didn't Instructor would have his head. With a wave of his wand Rolf erased his glamour charms and sat in front of her looking as he usually did. "I apologize. So sorry about that. I don't usually do that to people I've just met, but with my family sometimes it's easier to pretend to be somebody else. I'm Rolf Scamander. My grandfather and my parents…"

"Oh!" Luna clapped her hands. "I know them! Daddy has ever so many books that they've written! Did your grandfather ever train the Fire Slugs? I know he studied them in the Brazilian rainforest."

Rolf smiled and shook his head. "No, Pop-Pop never could train them to do a thing. Mostly they just set tablecloths on fire. Now you know why I usually don't tell people my real name."

"Oh." Luna nodded seriously. "Of course. You'd never be able to answer all their questions. I wrote your grandfather about Nargles recently but I haven't heard back from him."

As his shoulders eased Rolf realized that he had been tensing up from the moment Luna had sat next to him. As his muscles relaxed he followed suit. "I'm sure he'll write back, but I'm not sure when. Pop-Pop gets busy and keeping current correspondence isn't his strong suit."

-ooo-

Rolf arrived back at his little flat later that evening, much later than he had planned. Instead of using all of his skill and training at unobtrusive surveillance he'd spent the afternoon at the Lovegood residence, drinking tea of questionable origin and talking about fantastical magical creatures with Luna and her father. Xenophilius only stayed for a part of the conversation, though, as he was in the midst of preparing the latest edition of the Quibbler to go to press. It hadn't been an entirely wasted day, though, as he'd been able to ascertain the security difficulties in the house, determine how far the wards went around the property and realized the real reason that he was on the mission. Apparently there were still former Death Eaters and those who remained loyal to Voldemort who wished nothing more than to silence Xenophilius and the Quibbler permanently.

After taking a few moments to compose himself Rolf took out a quill and parchment, wrote out his report and summoned the tiny chimney swift. Instead of owls the Invisibles used the little birds for the unobtrusiveness and ubiquity. It did make tying the message on a bit more difficult, but the Invisibles flock of chimney swifts were well trained. Once his message was on its way Rolf sat at his small kitchen table and poked a fork around his plate, pushing the pieces of the steak and kidney pie around without thinking. He was thinking, but not of his supper. Instead he was thinking of Luna Lovegood, thinking about that brief moment when his mind touched hers, how peaceful it was.

It was while the cleaning spells were busy at work when a chimney swift arrived at his window sill. After gently removing the message he sat down and closed his eyes. He knew what the response would be from Instructor; disappointment and a drumming out of the Invisibles.

Scamander,

I'm glad you finally got something through that thick head of yours and finally started thinking like an Invisible. So the surveillance bit got thrown away like an empty butterbeer bottle, you did what you were supposed to do. Adapt and improvise. You made the situation work for you. Now we've got better intelligence on the Lovegood house and its protections. Try not to do it again, though. Stay out of sight if possible.

That's the good news. Bad news is that if anything goes wonky you get to Obliviate the Lovegoods. Word gets out that Rolf Scamander's grandson is visiting and you'll be off the mission. Take care of it.

Intelligence says that two former DEs have been talking about Xenophlius in Dorset. We will intercept them before they can get within a dragon's fart from there, but be careful. You're an Invisible, keep acting like one. Remember Bulgaria.

Instructor