Crazed Solicitors
I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but stare unseeingly into the distance as Numberita vaguely registered something soft pressing against my lips and –
Dear Merlin. Dear bloody Merlin Albus Severus Potter was kissing me and holy hippogriff I was kissing him back and we were behind the bloody bleachers of some Muggle stadium and Rose was probably wondering where we were and oh my his hands – those long, slender fingers so nimble and perfect for plucking the golden snitch out of the air or working a complex spell in mere seconds – were slowly brushing against my cheeks and curling around my hair and –
Numberita was going crazy, and I certainly wasn't very far behind her. After an indeterminable amount of time I felt my eyes closing almost of their own will (honestly, I wasn't even sure how I was forming coherent sentences at this point) as my arms tentatively rose to wrap around his neck, my feet rising as I stood on my tiptoes to increase my pitiful height. My breath was still caught in my throat, and I was dimly aware of the muffled noises coming from the happily chatting fans walking not a meter away from us.
My lips, my skin, my face felt like it was on fire, burning from within with a heat that even the coldest Glacius couldn't counter. I felt tingles rushing down from my mouth to spread to my hands and feet, sending lingering shivers down my spine.
Al groaned hoarsely, pushing me back gently by the shoulders so my back rested against the cold concrete of the wall behind me. His fingers were trailing up and down my back, spending more shivers dancing down my spine.
"Al," I finally managed, breaking away and gasping for air. His breath was rough as he stared down at me with darkened eyes. The Adela Tomato increased when I saw that his lips were even redder now.
We were still very close, only a scant two centimeters between our noses. His eyelashes lowered as his gaze flicked back down to my lips-
Merlin. What had we just done? I'd told myself to stay away from him. Well, brilliant job I'd done of following my own advice.
"See that redhead? Bet you she throws pounds away in her sleep," a voice jeered from a shockingly close distance (2.3 meters, give or take a few centimeters). I froze, my eyes widening – I knew that my (and Al's) hair was a mess, and if-
Al's face tensed, and he pressed a finger to his lips before pressing 2 cm closer, his chest brushing my cheek as we hugged the shadowed wall. I turned my head slightly, blushing hotly as my cheek was still pressed flush against his warm body, to peer at the speaker.
It was an employee dressed in the standard blue polo. The nice bloke from before was there as well. They'd paused right outside the narrow entrance to our space, and Al cursed softly under his breath. Another shiver raced down my spine as I became aware of his usual pine scent and the way his left hand was still absently playing with my ponytail.
"Mm. Girls like that don't have a care in the world," Nice Bloke answered with a touch of bitterness threaded through his words. Rose. They were talking about Rose.
Well, at least she was having success with her character. The voices faded as the duo began walking again, and I was left looking at one troubled-looking Albus Potter.
"Um," I began eloquently.
He stepped back abruptly, his face still twisted into an uneasy expression.
"I shouldn't have done that," he said shortly, turning away to run a hand haphazardly through his dark hair.
I froze again, a razor-edged hand gripping my heart and twisting it around gleefully, slicing through veins and arteries and pooling liquid hurt that weighed down my stomach with leaden weights.
Stupid. Stupid. I was so stupid – how could I have let myself get close to him again? Rose had warned me, Dominique had warned me, Numberita had warned me. I stepped back, my back banging painfully against the rough concrete as I tried to put distance between us.
Al noticed the movement, and his expression quickly moved to one of worry.
"No, no! I didn't –" he swore quite colourfully, running a hand once more through his disheveled hair and glancing at the opening to the bleachers. Finally he turned, stepping forward slightly.
"I didn't mean it that way. I just…I'm on duty. I shouldn't be…distracted like this. It's not that I don't want to kiss you, because bloody hell, Adela, Merlin knows I've wanted to ever since you waltzed into Aunt Hermione's office with that adorably pathetic attempt at eavesdropping-" His voice trailed off, and he swallowed before continuing, this time with a silent plea in his eyes.
"Please, Adela. I-I do want…whatever this is. Just…just not now. I can't afford another blow to my record," he said a bit stiffly, clearly unused to pleading for anything. I observed him silently for nine seconds. Al was ambitious; it was a part of his nature and probably a huge factor in his Sorting.
It wouldn't be right to hold his drive against him.
I nodded. His mouth widened, and we stood there grinning foolishly at each other for another sixteen seconds. I was warm again, but this time not with a burning fire but with a content affection that made me feel as if I could fly (and not the kind of flying I attempted back in second year with a charmed cape with quills sewn on it that left me in the Infirmary for a full six days and eight hours).
Then a shrill scream pierced through the air. My eyes widened, mirroring Al's shock for a split second, before we were off, our feet pounding against the slick concrete as we ran towards the box, pushing roughly past spectators as we ran in tandem.
Dodging the muffled protests of the clueless guards (they were looking a bit too muddled - a Confundus charm by the looks of it) standing outside the premium box, I hopped over the barrier and quickly assessed the situation, Numberita whirling frantically as my pulse pounded in my ears, dividing the events around me in evenly spaced intervals.
Bump.
Rose, lying unconscious at the foot of the box, her red, red hair pooling across the gray concrete.
Bump.
A woman with a severe bun – Freya Grey – bent over Rose's body, checking her pulse with trembling fingers as she cast terrified glances up at the person not a meter away from her.
Bump.
Vane, her blonde hair flying around her as she slashed spell after spell at the three men across from her.
Bump.
Three men clothed in black, a small cobalt tattoo curling up their necks, all very young, some maybe even teenagers.
Bump.
Six Muggles cowering at the opposite corner of the box, some bringing up shining phones with trembling fingers and opened mouths.
Bump.
A flash of black as Al flung himself forward, simultaneously paralyzing the six Muggles and conjuring a thick yellow shield between them and the action.
The men noticed him, sending a wicked red arrow of light at him. He dove forward, narrowly missing the spell, which burst against the opposite wall with a loud crash, leaving an angry singe mark behind. I cast a quick glance back at the oblivious Muggle guards outside – from the confused expressions on their faces, there was a strong Muggle-repelling spell on this box. From the muffled cheers and groans outside, the game had begun, ensuring that the Muggles were too preoccupied with the events below to bother glancing up at the box. I adjusted my grip on my wand, mentally scolding myself for not helping yet – get a hold of yourself, Adela. There are no werewolves - or goblins - here.
And yet I couldn't move; my feet were rooted to the ground, and I could only watch as silver flames raced forward, biting at Al's arm greedily before they were dispelled with a strangled groan. The man grinned triumphantly and advanced toward Al, his wand arm raised in preparation to shoot a curse at Al, who was distracted and an easy target -
That snapped me to attention. I narrowed my eyes, my right hand already moving in a complex pattern as I shouted, "Locomotor Mortis!"
The man who had injured Al – twenty or so, dark complexion, brown hair – let out a muffled curse as his legs snapped together and he fell forward with a dull thud, his wand rolling just out of his reach. He snarled, scooting forward, his fingers reaching desperately for his wand.
I ran forward, kicking the wand underneath the bottom row of seats before he could reach it. He glared up at me balefully, and I stared down coolly at him for a moment before saying, "Oops."
Then I turned, ignoring his loud curses, and flung myself behind the row of seats to narrowly miss the Stupefy shot at me. I straightened for two seconds to send back a Stupefy of my own before crawling eleven centimeters forward, the skin on my knuckles scraping painfully against the rough concrete as I made my way slowly towards the other two men.
Vane and Al were shooting hexes so quickly that I could barely track their movements, their wands blurring as streams of brilliant light shot between the wizards.
Jabbing my wand forward in three successive movements, I sent a barrage of golden arrows at the men, forcing them to scatter as they attempted to avoid the hex. One arrow pierced the blonde's arm, shattering into golden light as his jacket ripped open from the force. I exchanged one brief look with Al before snapping back to attention, deflecting his returning Reducto with a slash of my wand.
Al, Vane, and I pressed closer, forcing the two remaining men to fight back to back. Numberita was working on overdrive, calculating possible strategies frantically as I dodged spell after spell.
I dismissed possible strategy after strategy, my teeth gritting together as Numberita began to ache from the stress of the heightened adrenaline and thought required.
Wait. Numberita paused on a certain battle plan. Yes, that would do. Summoning up my will power, I conjured a thick red shield that momentarily encircled the two men. I wouldn't be able to hold it up for too long – only forty-six seconds, if my prior experience held true – so I'd have to convince Al and Vane of my plan quickly.
I ran over to them, opening my mouth hurriedly to inform them of Numberita's plan.
Vane blinked. "You're insane," she said flatly.
"I say we try it," Al said after a second, studying me intently. Vane spluttered beside him, clearly not expecting him to stand up for me. I resisted the immature urge to stick out my tongue.
He shrugged, turning to her with a slight smile. "These two clearly have had intensive training. It's the best chance we've got."
Her mouth worked silently for another two precious seconds before she nodded with a determined look to her icy eyes.
"Fine," she acquiesced, holding my gaze for six seconds.
The shield shuddered violently as the duo shot spells at it.
We quickly reassumed our positions just as the red shattered. I vanished the shards as they shot at me. Then I did what every instinct in my body was yelling at me not to do –
I ran at them head on, brandishing OBTS threateningly in front of me as I bellowed, "BATTLE CRY!"
They paused, their mouths dropping open as they stared at me in disbelief. Yeah, this move went against every tactical battle strategy listed in any book. But it had made them hesitate – only for a second, but a second was all it took for Al and Vane to conjure iron-enforced ropes to slam their bodies together and for me to get in a good whack with OBTS.
Their legs buckled, bringing them down to the hard concrete with a painful thud.
Waving my wand at both of them, I sent a silent sleeping hex at them. Their heads rolled over as they promptly fell asleep.
I turned with a slightly shaky smile to Vane and Al. We were alive!
Then my eyes flicked back at the deathly-white face of Rose. My spirits sank as quickly as they had risen; how badly was she injured? A shot of guilt burned in my chest; I should have gotten here sooner. Maybe then she wouldn't be uncons-
Wait. Numberita stilled. What about Dr. Grey? Where was she?
Oh no.
I turned, my heart in my throat as I scanned the box frantically. Al and Vane were peering under the seats, surveying the scene with practised ease. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye – I whirled, facing the one corner that was hidden behind my body.
Dr. Grey was rushing at me with a sharp pin – Numberita dimly registered it as a Manchester United one – clutched in her hand. Shoot. She obviously was traumatized by the events and, for all she knew, I was one of the bad guys. I lifted my hands, palms out, in the universal sign of harmlessness, but she still advanced, the deadly point aimed at my heart.
Here's a secret about magic: yeah, it's all powerful and good, but you need space to cast spells. And, with this sharp point only seven centimeters away from my chest, I was helpless.
A blur of black slammed into Dr. Grey from the side, bringing the two down to the ground. Dr. Grey let out a strangled cry, the pin dropping harmlessly from her hand. I stared down in disbelief at Eve Vane as she jabbed at the back of Dr. Grey's neck with clinical detachment. When Dr. Grey's eyes fluttered shut, she looked up at me with a cool expression.
I shut my mouth.
She raised an eyebrow at me before getting off of Dr. Grey's back.
"You're welcome," she said in her usual monotone drone. Her lips twitched a bit, leaving me speechless once more.
Well, apparently there was more to Vane than met the eye.
Though the blonde was prickly and standoffish, she had just saved my life. So I approached her tentatively, jogging a bit to match her (much) longer stride.
"Um...thanks," I said lamely. She shrugged, bending down to efficiently extract the six knives scattered across the three men's bodies.
"Al obviously likes you. I might not approve, but…" she shrugged again.
"Just don't hurt him. Hurt him and you die," she reminded me with a sudden smile. I shivered; Merlin, Vane was scary.
But awesome. Note to self: learn how to intimidate people. It was a task considerably easier for a 168 cm woman than my short self, but eh. I had OBTS.
The bloke in question chose to amble over at that second, his brows furrowed and his hands absently rolling his wand between his palms as he always did when he was worried about something.
"Rose is stable. Dad's sending in reinforcements as well as MLE to carry out any necessary Obliviates," he said. Then he turned to me.
"Adela, I hate to ask…but we need to cover all the bases. What are the odds of three heavily armed blokes attacking the box the moment we're here? I doubt they wanted anything with Grey…" his voice trailed off, and he ran his hand through his hair uncomfortably.
"-and you think it might have something to do with the Bulgarian siblings," I finished. I steeled myself, nodding curtly.
"Right, I'd better go check them," I continued. I approached them warily, watching them carefully for any signs of waking. They were still unconscious and tightly bound, but I certainly wasn't going to take any chances. So, keeping a tight grip on my wand, I knelt and gingerly pulled down the black collar of the nearest bloke and peering at his dark neck.
The small cobalt tattoo was a tiny collection of spirals and jagged edges twisting together in a seemingly nonsensical pattern…except it was on each of their necks. Perhaps it was something like the Dark Mark?
I frowned, leaning back on my heels as Numberita called up my memories of my capture. I hadn't seen any tattoos on Aleksandra or Andrei, but then again they had worn high collars the whole time. Of course, in the dank coolness of the building, such heavy clothing hadn't been out of the question, but…
I couldn't rule it out. There were sure to be records on any distinguishing physical characteristics…but there was something there, something that Numberita knew she was missing but couldn't quite name. There was something tying everything together. And to figure what that was I'd have to speak with the Bulgarians. I suppressed a shiver at the thought of seeing my captors again.
I stood, facing Al and Vane.
"I'll need to see Aleksandra and Andrei," I said evenly.
They exchanged a long look.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Vane said.
"I need to see them," I repeated.
Vane opened her mouth, probably to protest, but Al placed a warning hand on her arm.
"Okay," he said quietly.
Then his lips quirked up in a lopsided smile. "It's going to be hell wading through all the necessary records, though…good thing Kingsley owes me a favour."
He was obviously waiting for some "woo! Go Al!" or other congratulation. I glanced at Vane before saying blithely, "Well, I'd better go see if Grey's up yet. Maybe I can still find some way of salvaging this trip."
Ignoring Al's disgruntled mutters, I approached Grey's unconscious form gingerly.
"Renervate."
Her eyes popped open and she gasped, clutching at her chest as she looked frantically around her. Her eyes landed on me and she paled noticeably, her hands moving wildly as she struggled to find her pin.
"Hello, Dr. Grey," I said in what I hoped was a soothing voice. She let out a strangled cry, scuttling back until her back hit the concrete wall behind her.
Well, this was going fantastically.
"Do you know of a bloke named old Ben with a daughter who would have been a cancer patient?"
She blinked, a flash of something – recognition? – gleaming in her eyes for a split second before she assumed a blank mask.
"What are you, some crazed solicitors?"
"Um…no," I said slowly. She shook her head vigorously, letting out a hoarse laugh. I eyed her warily; was she going to try and hit me again?
"There's no way I'm disclosing patient information," she sneered.
I observed her quietly, noting the defiant way she had stilled at the very mention of a patient – she obviously took her job very seriously, and I wasn't going to be getting any answers out of her anytime soon.
I sighed, waving my wand to send her in a deep sleep once more.
"Well, that was unsuccessful," Vane observed.
"She knows something. Did you see the way her eyebrows raised when I said old Ben? I'd bet my last brownie that old Ben's daughter was a patient there," I said.
I pocketed my wand, Numberita whirring as I made sense of my thoughts. Right. So all I had to do was a) find some way to access the Royal Marsden's records, b) interrogate Andrei and Aleksandra, c) ensure that the phoenix is safely guarded, d) win Daisy case, and e) find out where on earth Ragnuk and Greyback were.
Simple things, really.
Not.
I leaned against the barrier, my arms resting against the rough concrete as I sighed inwardly. There was so much to do…
A warm hand rested on my shoulder for two seconds. Al.
"You're not alone," he said simply, staring out at the roaring crowds below us. I eyed him for a moment before sighing and following his gaze. Some team had just scored, from the looks of the raucous cheering.
Still, his words brought some comfort. He was right; I didn't have to do it alone.
"Thanks," I said quietly.
I could feel his eyes on me now. He watched me carefully for six seconds before sighing.
"Adela, y-"
"Reinforcements are here," came Vane's clipped voice. I whirled around; her pale eyes darted from Al to me, and to my amusement the usually composed blonde looked quite uncomfortable.
"Um…I'll-I'll just," she began.
"No, it's fine. Status?" Al asked, stepping forward and easily switching into cool professionalism.
They strode over to the opening of the box to meet the several figures walking purposefully through the throngs of Muggle spectators.
Casting a wary eye at them – what I was about to do wasn't technically illegal, but I doubted it would be accepted – I muttered a quick duplicator spell to inscribe the tattoo's pattern on a stray roll of parchment.
There. Now I could study it more later without having to go through tons of Ministry paperwork just to see the attackers.
"Adela?"
I stuffed the parchment hurriedly into the pocket of my trousers and straightened, beaming brightly at Harry Potter.
"Hi, Auror Potter!" I said innocently.
He narrowed his eyes, suddenly looking so much like his younger son that my breath caught in my throat –
"Bye Auror Potter!" I said hurriedly, scrambling away from the box and avoiding the Healers that were approaching me. I wasn't hurt – far from it, actually. My body was still pumped with adrenaline, and my blood was singing, my pulse racing as Numberita whirred excitedly. I had so much to do and so little time –
Focusing on my destination (no need to get splinched now), I turned on the spot and Apparated away, leaving the chaotic mass of black-robed Aurors and white-draped Healers behind.
I had some major research to do.
Author Note: You guys are amazing. Seriously. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed (and read!) the last chapter. The response overwhelmed me, and I was grinning like a maniac for a good part of the day. 400th reviewer will receive a one-shot C:
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