Chapter 10: Men and their Cars
Inaudible chatter could be heard from the receiver of the frowning tall black man as he watched his partner Dawlish receiving money from the shopkeeper of the dingy establishment in Knockturn Alley. Not even wanting to know what contraband goods were being sold there to warrant such a payment, the dark man stoically continued watching the Alley deep in his thoughts.
The showers continued pouring unabated, in a world that most didn't even know existed, the man could be seen hiding from the showers, deep in his thoughts knowing he should report what he saw but couldn't. Or rather wouldn't. He stood close to one of the pubs deep inside Knockturn Alley, dressed to the brim in a dull, brown trench coat.
He was tempted to pull out his cigar as he now saw his blond-eyed short partner approach him. He came close, pulling out a bit of the galleons he'd just received.
"Don't suppose you'd want a taste?"
Silence was the only response the dark man found appropriate for the situation he found himself in.
"I just keep offering, thinking maybe someday you'll get wise."
"There's nothing wise in what you do, Dawlish," said the tall, dark-skinned man morosely.
"Well King when you don't take the taste, it makes us guys nervous," said the blue-eyes man as he lit up his Cigar.
The taller man quickly turned to his partner and sharply said, "I'm no rat…"
Turning to look out into the street as the populace moved as though everything were normal and totally fine, Kingsley continued, "With a government this bent, who's there to rat to anyway?"
Dawlish simply let out a bellowing laugh bellying of his shorter stature as he disposed of the Cigarette that he'd just started and told Kingsley, "Let's head back, it seems to be quiet today. No reason to stay wet and cold out here for nothing."
Two distinct pops could be heard as they apparated back to their precinct in the alley to fill out their reports for the night.
With all the Auror precincts being warded against all direct transportation into the building using Apparition or Portkeys; they reappeared at the entrance to the precinct, and without even a glance or farewell, Dawlish headed on his merry way to meet his Auror buddies. Choosing not to mind him Kingsley decided to actually go and finish his reports.
Kingsley Shacklebolt contemplated a lot of things as he walked to his office, it seemed that crime lately had spiked into levels unseen before the First Wizarding War. The Auror department had seen an increase in the variety of drugs being brought into Knockturn Alley and they'd detained several Portkeyed containers containing even heroin and crystal meth. Level V drugs.
They were rumours all around that they were connected to Francesco Zabini and his mafia but there was never any evidence to pin them down to it. The Department of Justice was doing its best, but they faced obstacles everywhere, especially with the entire Auror unit in these sides, Knockturn Alley, being paid off by Zabini and his cohorts to look aside on matters of their business inside the alley and the judges being 'convinced' to pass light sentences or let criminals go free entirely. People had thought that with the fall of Voldemort, twenty years prior, things would be better but only the surface had improved, and the criminals had evolved to being smarter. It was only for some measly five years that everything had gone smoothly and the Light side of the Wizengamot had used the time to pass several laws aimed at making the vast majority of the people's lives better, after their time had passed the Neutrals and the so called 'Dark' faction had stopped the passing of such laws and criminals had used the relaxed laxity to begin their operations en masse.
Kingsley sometimes questioned why he just didn't cross over the pond and go to the other side. It might have been difficult at first, but he reckoned it would have been better than where he was right now – Knockturn Alley.
He could guess one of the reasons. Hope. Hope that Magical Britain could turn for the better. Hope that there were good people out here.
Having hidden out in the muggle world during the dark times he was cognizant of all muggle tools and ways, he'd even thought of living a simple life as a muggle but found that, the muggle life simply wasn't made for him. Still, he did enjoy some of the muggle luxuries and stationery with his office being one of the few decorated with muggle furniture and with muggle tools all around. Being from a Pureblood lineage, his colleagues were often left bewildered to his enjoyment of muggle confectionery, stationery and even living in a muggle neighbourhood.
Turning his gaze upon the window in his dark and neatly office he gazed upon Knockturn Alley, busy and rife with wizards and witches all working towards getting their daily bread, pulling himself from the exquisite scenery he turned to retrieve the pending forms and reports and immediately sat down to begin filling them.
Within a few minutes however he got an eerie feeling of being watched, his hand went to the Floop phone to call but found it with no connection; before the lights in his office seemingly 'blacked out' and he felt the sound of gun safety being taken off and it being pressed firmly against his neck. Having knowledge of the muggle devices he knew that he couldn't do anything, or he'd be toast. Literally.
"Don't turn around," the man with the gun said. Shaklebolt dutifully stayed put wondering what the man would want from him. Maybe he'd unknowingly raffled some feathers in his time here. A million thoughts raced through his head in the few milliseconds.
His mental conversation was interrupted by the man continuing on to say, "You're a good Auror. One of the few."
"What do you want?"
"Francesco Zabini brings in drugs every week. Nobody takes him down, why?"
"He's paid up with the right people," came the slow response.
"What will it take to bring him down?"
"Leverage on Judge Nott and a DA brave enough to prosecute."
"Hermione Granger."
"Who are you anyways?"
Harry struggled not to laugh from underneath the ski mask he'd worn for this occasion as he withdrew the stapler from the man's neck and moved back out towards the window whilst saying, "Watch for my sign."
Not daring to turn around yet despite not feeling the gun on his skin anymore, Shacklebolt couldn't resist saying, "You're just one man."
Harry cheekily replied, "Now we're two.
A gulp could be lightly heard as Shacklebolt asked, "we?"
Hearing no reply, Kingsley slowly turned, only to find he was alone in the room. Quickly he rushed towards the window to find the man climbing up to the roof of the Auror precinct. The man rushed back into his office and out intending to head for the lift.
The elevator dinged as he emerged in the roof to find the masked man running towards the edge of the roof.
"Freeze," yelled Kingsley as he fired stunning spells at the man. It seemed that the spells just wouldn't land on him.
Seeing the masked man close to the edge of the roof, he tried a last-ditch effort by firing an incarcerous spell at him but as it neared the man, he jumped off the roof and disappeared.
"Shacklebolt turned around to find his fellow colleagues staring at the spot the man had disappeared from.
"What the bloody hell was that?" asked one of the Aurors.
Kingsley turned to look at the spot once again before he replied, "Just some nut."
Lucius Fox looked up from his intense reading as he heard the approaching footsteps in his normally quiet office. He glanced up to find the son of one of his friends approaching adorned in his usual apparel of an Armani suit paired with one of the rare limited-edition luxury watches, that he was sure normally shouldn't work around magic, and finally with his hair as wild as a bird's nest but styled to at least appear intentional.
Harry saw Mr. Fox remove his glasses as he saw him approaching and adopting a comfortable position in his chair as he looked at him expectantly.
Leaning forward on his desk he couldn't help but ask, "Well… what is it today?"
Knowing it a bit rare for the man to be here he continued by cheekily suggesting, "More spelunking?"
A small smile tugging on his normally brooding face Harry replied, "No. Today it's base-jumping."
"Base-jumping," slowly repeated Mr. Fox.
"That like parachuting?" he continued.
Looking directly at the darker man's eyes, that seemed brighter than the brown they really were, he answered, "Kind of."
Slowly leaning forward on his desk Mr. Fox asked, "So… Mr. Potter, what may I help you with?"
"Do you have any lightweight fabrics?"
"You know I think I got just the thing," replied Mr. Fox a bit more enthusiastically, a bright smile on his wrinkled face.
Quickly getting up from his seat he led Harry to the back of the storage and opened one of the many trunks in the dark basement, proceeding to pull out a fabric, so black it seemed to suck the light out of the already dark room.
Getting a glove from one of the smaller compartments of the trunk and wearing it, Fox went ahead to explain, "It's called Memory Cloth, notice anything?"
Silence reigned as Harry couldn't seem to see anything he should particularly notice.
As if he didn't notice the silence, Lucius continued explaining, lifting his gloved hand, placing it on the memory cloth and saying, "Regularly flexible but put a current through it…"
Activating the glove, it briefly lit up as it sprung up into a square like parachute shape.
"… molecules realign, becomes rigid."
Impressed, Harry let his hands and eyes run through the fabric, "How many shapes can you make?"
"Can be tailored to fit any structure based on a rigid skeleton."
"Too expensive for the army?"
"I don't think they ever tried to market it to the billionaire spelunking, base-jumping club," said Mr. Fox as he maintained eye-contact with Harry.
An impassive mask was Harry's face for the brief seconds he let the silence engulf them before he stood a bit taller, "Look… Mr. Fox…"
"Yes, Sir?" replied Lucius.
Hesitating for a brief second, he continued, "… If you're uncomfortable –…"
Interrupting Harry, the taller man said, "– Mr. Potter, if you don't wanna tell me exactly what you are doing, when I'm asked, I don't have to lie."
"But don't think of me as an idiot…" he continued in a dull drawl.
They stood as if two men in a duel to the death, staring each other down as if willing each other to die before Harry broke the eerie silence with a nod of respect.
"Fair enough."
The staring match over, Harry's face broke into a lopsided grin as he gestured to the side over at a bizarre, heavy vehicle at the corner of the dark, large storage room, "What's that?"
Lucius looked back, to see what had the young man with such a smile before replying, "What… the tumbler?"
A mischievous, almost daring grin broke in the older man's face as he said, "Oh… you wouldn't be too interested in that…"
Weighing over 5000lbs the tumbler was a beast of a vehicle that was shaped like a mini tank, measuring: around 4 and a half meters in length, over 2 and half meters in width and just 1.5 metres in height. The monster of a car had all the latest tech in it containing an array of many different weapons, magical in nature and muggle.
At its heart was an impressive 5.7 litre GM V8 engine, capable of over 500 horsepower, with the 'jet engine' at its back being fed by propane tanks featuring 4 Interco "Super Swamper TSL" tires in the rear and 2 Hoosier Checkerboard superior-grip dirt tires in the front, with additional reinforcement of all sorts of protections and indestructability runes all weaved together to make it one of a kind. So strong were the tires that only a nuke and several destructive spells would be able to puncture it.
Its ability to take off from 0-100kph in just 5 seconds illustrated its incredible potential for speed topping it off with a top speed of 240 kilometres per hour.
Several minutes later, the large room seemed to have expanded even further, with the only sound heard being that of the powerful engine of the tank as it roared as if it were alive, its dark, large wheels hugged the racetrack, transfigured by Harry. The monster of a car vroomed around the track with a speed that belied its large size, Harry couldn't help but let out his first true carefree laugh as he drove the beast as if possessed.
Lucius glanced at him, letting out a nervous laugh as he looked at the serious young man that had now turned to a totally different person as soon as he got the car engine hot and brimming with life.
"She was built as a bridging vehicle. During combat, two of these would jump over a river, towing cables," said Mr. Fox over the loud sound of the car's roar.
Moving his hands towards the throttle, Fox continued, "Over here on the throttle, flip that open and throttle up, and it will boost you into a rampless jump –"
Hearing this, Harry proceeded to do just that, "—Not now!" exclaimed the older man in alarm as the jet engine roared to life like a dragon, propelling the car even faster in the small space. However, Harry proved to be no slouch at these high speeds as he took control of the vehicle in time as they seemed to have been heading for a head-on collision with the wall.
"We never could get the damn bridge to work but this baby works just fine," said Mr. Fox.
Harry disengaged the jet engine and manoeuvred the car to a stop with a drift, a bright smile on his face, Lucius asked, "So, what do you think Mr. Potter?"
His emerald-green eyes shining with child-like excitement, "Does it come in black?"