October 9th, 1995
Hogwarts

"Well, Quidditch practise was a mess today," Ginny said, pulling her hair up into a pony tail as she walked with Hermione and Shyanne. "I watched Fred and George get into a row and try to smack each other around with bludgers. I honestly thought, for a little while there, one of them were going to end up in the hospital wing."

"I'm amazed they aren't," Shyanne remarked. "They've ended up in the hospital wing before because of their bullshit. I swear, it has happened every year. It's as if they feel compelled to."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The two of them are absolute idiots, sometimes," She said with a laugh. "Don't forget what they tried last year with the Triwizard Tournament."

Shyanne shrugged. "Well, what did you expect? They were desperate to try and get in."

"I have no idea why," Ginny shuddered. "Just the way it was described made me sick. I couldn't understand why anyone would want to be in it."

"No idea," Shyanne said. "Though I guess it comes down to some people just wanting the thrill. Krum said just about as much. He and Eddie apparently talked about it for a while, and he said that, after losing the Quidditch World Cup, he wanted to find another way to prove himself. Apparently, he thought Eddie knew a lot about quidditch, because he gave him some pointers, and told him he was impressed by how much he improved in just the school year after they first talked."

"He did seem to want to prove he was more than just a talented teenager," Hermione agreed. "Whenever we talked, he seemed to want nothing more than to know as much and be as capable as much as he could. I haven't met many people that eager to learn as much as they could."

"I just think it's hilarious how Eddie slipped towards the bottom of the stairs out of the stadium following the Quidditch World Cup but was stopped by your mum just about scuffing him like a kitten," Ginny burst out laughing, shortly followed by Hermione and Shyanne. "What was it your dad said, something about –"

"He said mum's reflexes only got faster once we were born," Shyanne rolled their eyes. "Cat clung to our parents as a baby, and it wasn't until I came along and then Eddie that they needed to keep an incredibly close eye on us. But, honestly, what was funniest about it was mum fussing over Eddie after."

"Really, that was what you found funniest?" Hermione smirked. "I thought it was your mum snapping at Rita Skeeter who was following after your family and Harry's."

Shyanne considered that. "She called mum 'disco ball!' Of course she was going to be annoyed!"

"In complete honesty," Ginny began, trying not to laugh. "Delia was wearing rather large, sparkly orb earrings."

Hermione grimaced. "And she could have left it at that yet decided to also wear a fitted, cold shoulder blouse covered in sequins."

"It's a miracle she hadn't decided to also wear shimmery pants," Ginny said, elbowing Shyanne. "I think I speak for all of us when I say your mum made the right choice to just wear normal, black pants."

Shyanne rolled their eyes. "Mum likes sparkly things. Cat does too."

"Listen, both of you," Hermione said. "If I ever start to dress like Shyanne's mum, please smack some sense into me."

"Like you're going to smack some sense into Fred and George?" Shyanne teased. "Since the bludgers apparently didn't get the opportunity to?"

"Oh, Lord," Hermione groaned. "Don't tell me –"

"Speaking of which," Ginny said, socking her in the arm. "Did you hear about their newest endeavour? The one they've been working towards even after you told them not to test experimental sweets on first years?"

Hermione stared between her and Shyanne for a moment in horror when the three of them began up the first set of stairs in the castle.

"Don't tell me they –"

"Are you talking about us?"

Hermione screamed, only to whip around on her heels and scowl at Fred and George. The twins merely winked as they finished sliding down the bannisters. For a few seconds, they uncomfortably met Hermione's gaze. When they noticed Shyanne and Ginny were trying not to laugh, however, they gave up and looped their arms around Hermione's. Just about dragging her up the stairs behind Ginny and Shyanne, they only stopped when they realised Hermione was not protesting. They all but dropped her in horror, and jumped to opposite sides of the stairs. Hermione looked between them, almost amused, before smugly crossing her arms. Ginny and Shyanne began laughing, and Fred and George stared at each other in horror, thinking just about the same thing. She played us! Hermione beat us at our own game, tricking us! A bit embarrassed, they finally followed after her, Shyanne, and Ginny before stopping in front of the library, where Hermione sent them a pointed look.

"The two of you are getting predictable," She said, trying to mask her amusement. "The second I realised you two were behind me, I knew how to make sure you would let me go."

Fred gaped at her. "You're more devious than we give you credit for."

"You really could be a business asset," George noted.

"She's never going to work with you two," Shyanne warned them. "Not if you're still focusing on selling some of those Skiving Snackboxes."

"Those are making us good money!" Fred protested.

"I should have known the two of you would never listen to reason," Hermione muttered. She sighed. "How much have the two of you made so far?"

"Now that," George said with a wink. "Would be giving away too many trade secrets."

"And we already had a certain kitty slip some of our trademarked boil powder –" Fred briefly cut himself off when Shyanne snickered. "—well, not quite trademarked, but no one else knows how to make it but us. And we tested it on ourselves first. Either way, they slipped some of it into Draco's juice this morning."

Hermione chuckled. "I'm looking forward to seeing what happens to him," She finally said. "To your credit," She went on, sending Fred and George a pointed look. "If anyone deserves to break out in awful boils, it's Draco."

"Make sure to tell Harry and Ron about that," Ginny eagerly added. "They are going to lose it."

"We already did," George cheerfully replied. "I thought Ron was going to piss himself laughing. He – honest to God – fell to the floor in the halls, just wheezing and curling into himself. It took Professor McGonagall stopping and asking if he were alright to knock some sense into him."

Hermione shook her head. "Sounds like Ron," She said, her ears turning a bit pink despite herself. "He's held a grudge against Draco for years, but even more so after some of the things he's said to me over the years. He's defended me to the hilt. Though I do consider it a good thing I won the argument we had earlier about Crookshanks biting his toes. It was rather stupid, I'll admit, but still."

Ginny, Shyanne, Fred, and George shared a knowing look.

"You fancy him," Ginny said with a grin.

"When's the wedding?" Shyanne snickered.

"No!" Hermione exclaimed, turning scarlet. "No! How many times do I have to say it's not like that?"

"More than that," Ginny winked. "And you're going to be a little bit more convincing about it, too."

October 9th, 1995
Coventry

"Damn," Amelia cursed under her breath nearly the second she stepped out of the portkey. "Just another problem, bloody English weather deciding to be a nuisance."

She turned around, the light rain starting to cling to her thin glasses. Delia stepped out of the portkey just a few seconds later. She almost instinctively pulled her hood further down over her head to keep herself as dry as possible. Amelia waited for her, feeling a little bit impatient. Silently, she found herself rather annoyed at the situation, but said nothing. Why does she always want to know everything? I've never met anyone else so – She sighed, glancing at Delia as they walked. She looks exhausted. This easily could have waited a day or so. The two of them continued to walk towards the tree. They were not too deep into the woods, and it wasn't unthinkable they were not alone. Just about anyone could walk by. Another reason not to use magic right now. Though that will probably become unavoidable when the scene is fully processed. I ought to warn Kingsley not to send anyone with little field experience for that. Amelia paused, seeing the tension the woman with her so clearly held. Under her coat, Amelia tightened her hand around her wand. Is she sensing something is wrong, or am I imagining things? The two of them kept walking.

The steady crunch and squish of leaves and mud around them left a feeling of discomfort to abound, especially with everything else around them being otherwise silent. That must be it. Everyone is on tenterhooks these days. Just about anything can make someone feel ill at ease. Though she did not say it, nor admit it to herself, Delia felt it too. She pushed down the thought of her husband leaving for home soon, knowing full well she would rather be with him than working. It's my own damn fault. Then again, it always is. Lily just about came out and said it the other day. The meetings throughout the day had been completely draining, and she did her best to avoid admitting to herself that the only reason she had wanted to step out to see the scene for herself was out of a brief want for adrenaline. Something to break up the exhausting, near constant discussion of what needed to happen, where, and when. Suffocating. That was it. Everything felt suffocating. And New York is being a disaster, too. How did the stakes get so high? The thought was scary enough on its own. Nothing could be simple.

Nothing could be simple anymore, it seemed.

"Take a look," Amelia said, her voice low when they reached the tree. "Aurors will be here soon enough. Hopefully a limited, minor number of muggles will have to be obliviated so we can handle this."

"Since when does anything go to plan?" Delia muttered.

Amelia said nothing, though the look the two women exchanged said it all.

Nothing is predictable anymore.

A bit cold, Delia slowly approached the tree while wrapping her dark green trench coat tighter around herself. Sure enough, between the branches which appeared to have manipulated and stunted after years of overgrowth, and potentially tampered with by magic, a body was stuffed, and rather brutally. She took a small step back. Why does it almost look like a mannequin? In any other place, would it… Delia took another step back, trying to regain herself. It was then she noticed the wand at the base of the tree, and hesitantly approached the tree again to examine it. Something – She briefly screamed when, without warning, Amelia pushed her back and to the side, drawing her wand. Irritation rose in her, but quickly fell off. A hooded figure emerged from behind a few trees away, approaching them. The crack of someone apparating rang out. Then another. Two more figures emerged from the trees, and all of their faces were obscured under their cloaks. Amelia began to shout, warning them to not tamper with a crime scene, and warning them of the potential for arrest. Still, they moved towards them. For just a moment, Delia found herself sure they were merely cultists. They were an issue which came up time and time again in the States. They could –

The Dark Mark was cast. One of the figures attempted to cast the killing curse.

Everything changed in an instant.

The first figure who had emerged moved on Amelia, who just barely got out of the way of one blast of the killing curse. The other two turned on Delia, whose hands tightened around her wand as she met each of their hexes with some of her own. The first figure tried again, missing first Delia and then Amelia the second time with the killing curse. He soon disappeared. Both women still reeling, they met the two remaining men with no hesitation. One of them moved on Amelia, aiming several curses at her. The second moved on Delia, who cast several jinxes as they tried to hit her with curses. A few of them knocked the figure back, briefly leaving them winded. It did not last long enough. The second the figure was on their feet again, they returned to the duel just as violently. A curse slashed Delia across the cheek, but the figure was petrified by a well aimed curse from Amelia. Angrily clutching her bleeding cheek, Delia went at the remaining, hooded figure with a vengeance. Adrenaline had found her again, and she was shaking badly with every spell she cast.

Sure the other figure was completely incapacitated, Amelia moved to help Delia, but was not quick enough. In a split second, the remaining, hooded figure unleashed another round of curses on the American auror. Delia pushed back, though her composure was slipping. Something felt all too familiar. It was impossible, she knew. Irrational, even. But the reminder of what had happened years before lingered. It's nothing like what happened then, not at all. What happened then was not only in the States, but – She didn't give herself much more time to think, barely sliding out of the way of a blast of the killing curse. Amelia moved in on the remaining, hooded figure again, but was not quick enough to stop them from their final round of curses. Without a chance for either woman to react or push back, the remaining, hooded figure, managed to hit Delia with the cruciatus curse. Delia screamed in pain, struggling back against it. Amelia ran to try and push her out of the way, but missed and, instead, was only able to catch the American auror's wand. Delia began to convulse, and the figure did not relent until her screams stopped. She fell to the ground, convulsing still. Amelia charged towards the figure to grab them, but missed by barely an inch. Before she could even full snag them, they vanished.

Amelia turned on her heel the moment she realised they were gone, running over to where Delia had fallen on the ground. She slid Delia's wand into her bag with her own before kneeling down beside her. Almost frenzied, she checked her pulse. To her relief, she found it. How long ago was it that I had to do this? How long ago was I not only in the field but duelling? She pulled the woman up just a little, trying to stop the convulsions. The effect of the curse still coursing through her, Delia barely saw Amelia struggling to ensure she was breathing. She could barely feel it, too. Her vision was fading. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Everything was blurry, and then it was dark. Her entire body was still screaming in pain, and she was shaking. Amelia started swearing the moment she lost consciousness. Not giving it a second thought, she stood up, holding the unconscious woman as steadily as she could before disapprating with her. Amelia all but ran, still holding onto the unconscious, American auror the second she apparated into St. Mungo's with her. Doctors were around them immediately, and she followed after them as they took the woman in to begin to work to stabilise her.

The next thing she recalled was being sat down in an interview room.

"I apologise if this is uncomfortable for you, as you don't usually have to answer to many people."

Amelia stared at the man across from her before shaking her head.

"Don't apologise, Kingsley. Sometimes our roles get reversed."

"You said there was an ambush?"

"At the original crime scene, yes. Did you –"

"Seasoned aurors were sent in, yes. They've processed similar things before."

"Good."

Silence.

"Please," He said calmly, leaning forward slightly, hands clasped together on them. "Describe what happened."

"We were ambushed. Two of the three escaped, one of them is, I imagine, still at the scene as I petrified them."

"What happened next?"

"A duel. Which ended when the last one – who had not previously escaped nor was petrified – cast the curciatus curse. Successfully, might I add."

"And the victim?"

Amelia sighed, tiredly rubbing at her temples.

"MACUSA's Head of the Department Of Investigative Crimes And Magical Law Enforcement, Cordelia Amelie Fudge."