Raylynx's POV
Augustus Rookwood had indeed been confirmed as a Death Eater.
The Aurors were called on to capture him. We were told he was hiding in the Department of Mysteries.
"Well," Crouch said impatiently. "Go get him!"
Six of us (Kingsley, Ahmed, Proudfoot, Savage, Dawlish, and myself) took the elevator all the way to the ninth floor and then walked down a simple, dark corridor.
It was the least decorated place in the whole Ministry.
"What exactly is the Department of Mysteries?" I whispered to Kingsley.
"We're about to find out," he replied, and pushed the door open.
The four of us entered, wands held aloft. We stepped into a chamber that was a circular room with a dark marble floor that looked almost like standing water. Candles emitted a cool blue light and there were twelve handle-less doors.
"Twelve doors. How the hell will we find him here?" Savage grumbled.
"Homenum Revelio," Dawlish suggested.
"Does that kind-of magic still work in here?" I asked, shivering a little at the unnatural atmosphere. There are questions being asked here that I'm not sure were meant to be asked.
"Yes, magic still functions much the same way," Proudfoot replied.
"Let's split up," Shacklebolt suggested. "Savage, you come with me. Dawlish and Kingsley, you stick together."
Ahmed gave us the orders. "When we find Rookwood, detain him and bring him to center. Let's meet here in ten minutes. Get through as many rooms as you can. Also, I was told the doors here spin when you return. Mark the doors with Flagrate."
"And last but not least," Proudfoot warned us. "Try not to touch anything. Unspeakables get very irate when their research is messed with."
We all separated. Stepping forth, I pushed open a door. Dawlish and I stepped through.
Hundreds of glass orbs sat in towering shelves reaching up a high ceiling.
The chamber was lit by blue-flame candles and it seemed that blue fire was dancing in each of the orbs.
"Homenum Revelio," Dawlish said quietly.
I peered between the shelves.
"There's no one here," Dawlish said.
I nodded. My eyes fell on the shelf besides me.
The prophecy was labeled by names that were unfamiliar to me.
I raised a hand to touch it when Dawlish said sharply, "Don't."
I turned to look at him.
"They're magically protected," Dawlish informed me. "Only the Keeper of the Hall of Prophecies and the subjects of the individual prophecy can lift them off their stand. Anyone else who touches the prophecy will be inflicted with instant madness."
"Let's move on," Dawlish turned away.
With one last look behind my shoulder at the glimmering prophecies, I followed him out.
"Flagrate," I said, and marked an X on the door. Then I backed away. Sure enough, it began to spin.
When it stopped spinning, there were already four X's among them.
"We should hurry," Dawlish said. "It's already been three minutes." He pushed open another door and we stepped inside.
We were standing on top of stone tiers, which lead all the way down to a pit in the center. In this pit was a dais, upon which stood a very old stone archway with a tattered black curtain hanging from it.
I cast the spell this time, but there was nothing.
I let Dawlish know. "There's nobody… here…"
My voice faded away when I realized that I could hear voices.
"Kingsley?" Dawlish looked at me uncertainly.
I stepped down from the tier.
"Kingsley, what are you doing? If there's no one here, we should go," Dawlish said as I stepped down towards the pit.
"Can you hear them?" I asked, my voice coming out almost as though I were in a trance.
The closer I got to the center, the stronger the flow of voices whispering to me.
I stopped in front of the dais. The voices seemed to swirl around it, as though they were coming out of the curtain.
Dawlish checked his watch. "It's been six minutes already. I think we should go back."
"Yes, we should... head back," I said, staring up at the archway. I felt a pull towards this archway and a sort-of thrill, like a warning.
Dawlish sighed and quickly made his way down to fetch me.
"Kingsley, we must get going."
"You hear them?" I asked him. "The voices."
"No," Dawlish said firmly. He started to turn away, when he paused. His brow furrowed. "Well, I'm not certain… I think I might hear something."
"I hear them," I murmured. "They're loud, the voices. They're speaking to me."
I could feel tremors in the air, reaching out to me. I lifted my hand slightly.
"We should get away from here," Dawlish said, his eyes tracing the archway warily. "I don't think it's safe."
"But what if he's hiding here?" I said, not really caring. I just wanted to find out more about this archway. I swear I could hear familiar voices there.
Dawlish shook his head. "No, there's no room to hide in that archway."
I stared at the veil fluttering in the archway, utterly mesmerized.
For a moment, I thought I heard my mother's voice.
"Kingsley!"
Dawlish reached out and shook my shoulder roughly.
I started as though he'd poured a bucket of ice water on me. "You're right. Sorry, let's go."
We ran back up the stone steps. I shook my head, annoyed with myself.
What's gotten into me? I need to be in mission mode.
When we got back to the center, there were eight X's.
I hurriedly pushed open another door and stepped in, determined to make up for the lost time.
I blinked. That's what we found: time.
There were gigantic hourglasses and time turners and bizarre clocks under bell jars and even sun dials and water clocks.
Besides me, Dawlish couldn't hide his surprise either.
I lifted my wand and cast the spell. "Homenum revelio."
"Nobody," I confirmed.
I turned to him. "Has it been ten minutes?"
Dawlish looked at his watch, and then shook his head, bemused.
"I don't know," he said. "My watch is going haywire."
He showed me his watch, and indeed, both hands were spinning like mad. In fact, the minute hand was even spinning backwards.
"But we were close to eight back in the room with the archway," Dawlish said. "So we should head back."
I nodded and we left the room.
As soon as our feet touched the marble floor of the Entrance Chamber, we saw the scuffle happening between Shacklebolt, Savage, Rookwood, and another Unspeakable whom I'd never seen before.
Shacklebolt was forcing Rookwood to the floor as Savage dueled with the other Unspeakable. Rookwood suddenly cast an explosive offense that sent us all flying.
I fell backwards and skidded a few feet on the floor before hitting the wall of the chamber. Luckily, I had been far enough away not to take any real damage.
Just then, Ahmed and Proudfoot burst out of another room.
"Stupefy!" Ahmed shouted.
Rookwood crumpled to the floor, but his partner managed to race out of the Entrance Chamber.
I scrambled to my feet, but Dawlish and Proudfoot were already out the door.
Savage had been knocked out during the fight and Shacklebolt was checking his status.
"He's all right," Shacklebolt said heavily.
Ahmed flicked his wand and chains snaked themselves around Rookwood's wrists. He was still unconscious.
"Where was he?" Ahmed asked Shacklebolt.
"Hiding in the space room," Shacklebolt said. "It was difficult. We were trying to fight while floating."
I helped Ahmed hoist Rookwood up.
"Kingsley, can you take Savage up to St. Mungo's?" Shacklebolt asked me.
I nodded. Ahmed took Rookwood by himself as I walked over to Savage.
"What about the other Unspeakable?" I asked, as I slung Savage's arm around my shoulder and hoisted him up.
"We'll have to leave that to Dawlish and Proudfoot," Shacklebolt said, and Ahmed nodded.
"For now, our focus is Rookwood," Ahmed agreed. "We need to get Rookwood in confinement before he wakes up and tries to make a break for it again."
Dawlish and Proudfoot returned about an hour later, looking ragged and exhausted. Proudfoot had a rather large bandage tied around his shoulder. By that time, Savage had also joined us, though he had been ordered to bedrest for two days as his body healed the torn ligaments he'd acquired from the explosion and the jinx he'd been hit with right after.
"Report," Shacklebolt said.
"He tried to Apparate, but we caught him on time," Dawlish recounted. "We all landed in some mountains and Proudfoot had been Spliced. We still managed to follow him for a bit, but with Proudfoot's injury, we were caught by the Albanian government, who demanded to know why British Aurors were on their grounds. When we tried to explain we were after a suspect, they demanded we leave their grounds. They seemed to find it insulting that their country harbored spies."
"Of course, it would be an international scandal for any country," Proudfoot grunted. "Still, they shouldn't have forced us out like that."
"We can't just let him go,"' I said. "He's the only key we have to unlocking Rookwood's network of spies. If it really is international, then we have a larger problem on our hands. Information is leaking out of our government into external interested parties."
"Yeah, that's never any good," Savage commented.
And it means that Voldemort has influence in other countries. Albania… Is this all connected, somehow? I still don't understand what happened in Albania at the vampire's lair… I saw Voldemort himself, if I remember correctly.
I shivered in my seat.
Ahmed sighed. "You're right. But it won't be so simple."
Shacklebolt nodded and said in careful consideration, "If the Albanian government thinks we suspect them, we don't have a chance at being allowed in for interrogation. We represent the British Ministry of Magic, after all. What we need to do is think that we're only interested in the man and not his nationality."
"Is there any information on the identity of the individual?" Proudfoot asked. "He was an Unspeakable, wasn't he?"
"Intelligence is working on that," Ahmed confirmed. "They'll have his file sent up to us soon."
Forty minutes later, and we had members from both Intelligence and from Foreign Diplomacy reporting to us.
A witch with silver hair put up a picture of the man and said, "His name is Vladimir Loran. He was an Unspeakable here for five years. He came from Albania. Apparently, he worked for the government there and came here on loan for research on the origins of magic and life prolongation."
The origins of magic and life prolongation… I pondered these words deeply.
Ahmed's face twisted in displeasure.
"Not a big surprise that Rookwood would bait him, eh?" Savage said darkly.
"Evidence suggests that he wasn't a Death Eater, but a spy for personal reasons," the witch from Intelligence continued.
"What evidence?" Shacklebolt asked.
"Rookwood's testimony," she answered.
"He's testified already?" Dawlish said, surprised.
"He had no choice, I bet," Savage said. "Not with Barty."
"I thought he'd been demoted," Proudfoot said gruffly.
"He has, but he's still in charge of some trials," Ahmed answered.
"Let me guess. He's motivated to get more people in more cells to clear his own name, right?" Savage rolled his eyes. "Same old, same old."
"Savage," Shacklebolt warned.
We fell quiet and the wizard from Foreign Diplomacy stepped forth.
"The Albanian government has recognized him as their own agent," he told us. "They're currently deliberating whether or not to grant him asylum."
Proudfoot frowned. "That will make it even more difficult for us to get to that man."
"They won't let us see him," the wizard confirmed. "No meeting was allowed, let alone an interrogation."
"Then this isn't something to be solved formally," Ahmed said regretfully. "Very well. Thank you for coming in, both of you."
The witch and wizard said farewell and took their leave.
"What will we do?" I asked.
"I have an idea," Ahmed said. "But it's nothing to do with any of us. You're all excused for today. Savage, you go get some rest, you hear?"
Savage scoffed until Dawlish poked him in the ribs.
He waited until Dawlish was halfway out the door to kick him in the rear.
Karkaroff was released from Azkaban and a full-on investigation to uncover Voldemort's spy network in the Ministry took place.
Some of the accused were clearly very wrongfully accused. For example, Ludo Bagman, a beloved Quidditch player, was put on trial and it became very clear in the first few minutes of his cross-examination that this was both a waste of time and resources.
But where the investigation became very vague was when it concerned Unspeakables. Unspeakables worked in the Department of Mysteries and were unable to divulge much detail about their work. As such, trials with Unspeakables were long and cumbersome and often concluded in more confusion than when the trial had begun.
We were still making no progress with retrieving or interrogating Vladimir Loran.
I entered Auror headquarters the next day to find Ahmed and Jasper having a tense conversation. Well, Ahmed was tense.
"Unfortunately, your partner doesn't want to work with you anymore," Ahmed was saying to Jasper. "He says you do things on the fly too much. It makes him nervous."
"Spy intelligence was never meant to be calming," Jasper replied said calmly, but pointedly. "It's not therapy."
Jasper's eyes met mine for a second. I blinked, and then hurriedly crossed the room and entered the adjunct room where all the records were filed. I'd been sent to get paperwork. But I could still hear Ahmed and Jasper talking from here.
"You're the only person I can trust with this mission. The Albanian government has long been in tension with us. They think we always consider them as a birthplace of spies-"
"That's not wrong," Jasper said smartly. "But they did it to survive. They carved a place for themselves in the New World even when they fell behind in the Industrial Revolution. They've stayed alive thusfar thanks to their intelligence network. It's quite a feat."
"But it's not a great international reputation to have," Ahmed said cuttingly. "And although I need you to take on this mission, I can't send you into unfamiliar enemy territory alone."
I found the file I was looking for and shut the cabinet. I walked out and made to walk past them when Jasper threw out casually, "How would you like to go undercover, miss?"
"She's still in training," Ahmed dismissed me before I could respond.
"She caught Bellatrix Lestrange single-handedly," Jasper reminded him. "You're going to hold her back because of some silly ranking?"
"She's in training, I said," Ahmed repeated sternly."
Jasper shook his head, almost amusedly. "We've got Aurors in training doing all sorts of things we would never let them do otherwise. Why? Because we're in a state of war."
"We're no longer in a state of war," Ahmed said, but his voice more hopeful than convincing.
"Ahmed, you're an intelligent man and you're our Commander. You know that's simply not true," Jasper said pointedly. He then shot me a look, urging me to say something.
"I've been to Albania," I said, rather thoughtlessly.
"On holiday, of course," I hastily added.
Ahmed eyed me skeptically.
Then, he sighed and said, "All right. You two, be ready for a briefing tomorrow night. Expect to leave the day after."
Still uncertain as to what I'd just got myself into and feeling extremely confused as I tried to remember everything that had happened to me in Albania, I didn't notice a familiar voice calling my name as I exited the Ministry. Finally, a hand gently grabbed my wrist.
"Raylynx, for goodness' sake, are you deaf?"
I turned and said in surprise, "Chris."
"Yes," Chris smiled down at me. "It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm surprised to see you as an Auror."
"Auror-in-training," I corrected.
"Whatever your position, I'm glad you're still… here," Chris said. I knew he was referring to the fact that I still identified with the magical world.
"Mm," I said, rather non-responsively.
Chris cleared his throat before asking, "How is your sister?"
"She's… recovering," I said. "Like the rest of us, I suppose."
"Is she still…?" Chris fell silent, but I knew he was asking about whether she used magic or not.
"I don't think so," I said quietly.
"Right, and she's not… Is she married?" Chris tried to laugh, but I could tell how much this meant to him. Sympathy rose up in my heart. Chris had been nothing but good to Sola and to Jamie and me. He'd played Quidditch with Jamie for hours on end, and helped me out that summer I devoted all my time to learning spells. He'd been so patient with my parents as well, calmly explaining how things worked in the Wizarding World, taking over the conversation smoothly when Sola got impatient with Mom and Dad.
I smiled a little at the rush of memories flooding my head.
Suddenly, inspiration struck me and I said, "Would you like to stop by and say hello sometime?"
Chris hesitated, nervously pushing his hand through his hair. "I don't know if that would be a good move, Raylynx."
"There's nothing to lose," I reminded him gently.
He sighed and said, "I can't really argue with that."
"And Sola's strong," I said. "She may be healing, but she's always been strong, and she always will be."
"True," Chris said. "It's just… I don't know if she wants me anymore, Ray. I mean, if she wants to see me even."
I knew how he felt. I remembered how I had felt when I'd come back to see Remus and Sirius again. I had been torn between wanting to see him and feeling afraid that I'd break their coping mechanisms.
I held out my hand and said, "Come on. I'll take you to her."
"Now?" he said, suddenly a little frantic.
I nodded. I didn't know when, or if, I'd come back intact from my mission.
Chris hesitated and fidgeted, but finally took my hand.
We spun into the vortex of Apparation and stopped in front of Sola's home.
I walked up to her front door, with Chris following me. But when I raised my hand to knock, Chris held my arm back.
"Wait," he said. "Wait, let's not-"
I waited for him.
But Sola must have either sensed us or heard us Apparating because I heard footsteps and she called out, "Jamie? Is that you?"
I looked up at Chris. He seemed frozen. His hand clenched my arm tightly.
"Jamie?" Sola said, and I heard fear in her voice.
"It's me," I said finally, not wanting her to be afraid.
"Raylynx?!" The door flew open.
It took a moment for Sola to comprehend what was happening. Her eyes fell on Chris and she froze. Slowly, she looked over to me and then back at Chris. I saw the way her eyes shone when she looked at him, even through her utter disbelief.
I let out a breath. I knew I had taken a risk, but from the look on her face, I knew it had been the right decision. "Yeah," I said finally. "And I brought a guest."
Chris finally let go of me. He turned and faced Sola.
Carefully, he said, "Hello."
"Hello," Sola repeated. He stepped forward, and she stepped backward.
Chris paused.
"Is this… bad? Should I not be here?" he asked her.
Sola shook her head.
"No, I'm glad. I'm really glad to see you," she said.
"I'm really glad to see you," Chris replied.
They both stared at each other for a long moment.
"Sola..." Chris said softly. "I'm still yours, if you'll have me."
Then, before I could even blink, Sola had flung her arms around him. She disintegrated into tears on the spot. Chris comforted her and kissed her hair.
"It's all right," he said soothingly. "I'm here now. I'm here. I'm sorry I ever left. I should have stayed, should have been here for you."
I smiled to myself. They were more mature than either Sirius or I was. They didn't let their pride get in the way of being with each other, the way Sirius and I had taken turns doing.
I stepped back and left them together. My heart felt heavy as I remembered what it felt like when Sirius and I were together. Sirius… Sirius, what are you doing now? Are you holding on? I swear to Merlin, I'm trying to get you out of there. Just hold on.
Sirius' POV
I trembled all over.
Raylynx isn't dead. She's not dead. She's alive. She's out there, healthy and alive. She has to be.
I wrapped my arms around my figure, now starved to a gaunt fraction of what I once was.
I had dreamed about Raylynx floating in ice-cold waters, choked to death by a siren. I had attended her funeral, only to go home and find her corpse floating in my bathtub.
Then, Remus had appeared, shouting at me and crying, "Wasn't James and Lily enough? You didn't have to kill Raylynx too!"
I tried to say that I didn't kill her, that I would never harm her, that I loved her, but Remus cut me off and said, "I shouldn't have expected anything else. You left your own brother in the heads of a brutal purist family. You're a traitor and a murderer. That's all you've ever been." He'd hit me in the face, and I'd woken up, sweating heavily.
I'm not, though, I told myself firmly. I'm not a traitor. I'm not a murderer. I know I'm not.
Somehow, the thought put me deeper in despair. If I'm not a traitor or a murderer, then why am I here? I clenched at the bars of the cell before I morphed back into being a dog. As the human emotions melted away into less complicated feelings and instincts, gradually, I could breathe a little.
A few stalls down, Bellatrix rattled the bars and screamed as a dementor fed on her. I wondered what fears could haunt even a ghoul like her.
