Chapter 4: The Training Day from Hell
The rookie Auror Tonks was livid and utterly miserable. She had had the worst training day imaginable. Actually, what had happened had been beyond her imagination. She had been ready to take on all Dark Lords of the world, to give her life in the line of duty, she still was, but now she was depressed and disillusioned. The rookie Auror Tonks had been acquainted with the establishment behind the establishment on her first day, well technically it had been her second day, and she had not been presented with a pretty picture. She knew the world was not a pretty place, but it was why she had become an Auror, to make the world better place. Now she knew that can never be the case. There was a hidden establishment in the Ministry, and they played with rigged dice in favour of the same agenda followed by Voldemort and pure-blood supremacists.
"Here Tonks, drink", she took the glass from Shacklebolt. They were at his place, because a bar would not had been a safe place to talk about the ordeal they had gone through. Shacklebolt had also offered her to stay at his place for a week, the time for the heat to go down, so that no Ministry flunkey would be tempted to try and rough her more than she had already been, if she would be alone at her apartment.
She had finished her apprenticeship under Master Auror Moody with the highest marks in her year, and her field training had been assigned to Senior Auror Shacklebolt, the best on the force. Unfortunately, the second trainee assigned to Senior Auror Shacklebolt had been the prick Percy Umbridge, the most obnoxious person of her generation and protégé of the Undersecretary Umbridge, as if it not had been clear how such shit had been assigned to the best.
Her training day had started rather well. Shacklebolt and his trainees had been part of the security service for the World Cup final. On paper it had been a simple affair, the wizards had different mentality about sport events, there were no streakers, there was only heavy drinking after. But Shacklebolt knew that shit rookies like Umbridge were bad luck, such rookies wished for bad things to happen so that their ego could shine after they would single-handedly save the day.
It hadn't help that Umbridge had let himself be influenced by the veelas and had indulged himself to some alcohol after the game.
At midnight some commotion had started at the border between the part of the camp reserved for British and Irish wizards and the one reserved for foreigners, between some drunken British wizards and some French and Bulgarian veelas and witches. The initial commotion had grown to violent attack and the attacked veelas and witches had tried to flee and hide in the surrounding forest.
Shacklebolt and his trainees had apparated to the forest. They had been greeted with the sight of a darkly clad male putting himself between the attacked veelas and witches, and the attacking wizards.
The male had been dressed in a full black bodysuit covering him from head to toes. He had reminded Tonks of muggle comics. The wizards had tried to shoot spells at the dark figure, but he had quickly put them all KO with superb display of agility and martial arts, and the fact that he himself had clearly not been under influence of any substance. When over, the man had remained in alert, but non offensive stance.
Shacklebolt had approached one of the unconscious wizards. His face had been familiar. "Nott… This is going to be a bugger with the Ministry…"
"Muggle?", had been the thought of Tonks. And apparently more than just the thought, because Umbridge had proceeded to scream at the man: "Muggle scum! You are under arrest for helping these veela bitches attack respectable pure-blood wizards!"
"Well, I didn't use magic, because these respectable inebriated gentlemen didn't warrant any use of magic. Also, I actually saved these gentlemen, because the ladies would have ripped them apart, they had minors among them to protect against potential rape. The wizards don't even have any broken bone."
Umbridge apparently hadn't wanted to back off, and had felt that muggle scum had been attacking his authority. Tonks hadn't known how the man could had seen it, but she had heard: "Please, don't cast that spell!"
Unfortunately, Umbridge had acted without thinking, further infuriated by the words of the muggle, and neither Shacklebolt, nor Tonks could had stopped him.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The man had received the green spell with the palm of his hand, and then not wanting to risk a person being hit with the spell, had closed his hand around it as if had been an object and pulled it like a string. Umbridge had fallen down dead.
"Idiot" the man had said quietly, and had sat on a nearby log with a sigh.
"Who are you?", had asked shocked Tonks.
"Who is but the form following the function of what and what I am is a masked man in a super-hero spandex.", answered the man.
"So, you are not muggle? What did you do with the spell?" had been asked in quick succession.
"I'm just a wizard, well, a more evolved form. And this idiot used the most boring killing spell, and the one with the greatest flaw. You can pull out the caster's soul if you pull on this spell. Sorry, I've got to go. Talking with your colleagues will be extremely difficult after this.
The man had simply faded into darkness without a sound.
A few minutes after there had been popping sounds all around the place.
Shacklebolt and Tonks had been taken in by a special branch of the Unspeakables, calling themselves the Finger. They had thoroughly interrogated Tonks till late in the night, using even torture to ensure nothing had been kept from them. They had been particularly upset when Tonks had mentioned evolution, saying she should not had spoken blasphemy lest she end in Azkaban.
When all had been over, Shacklebolt had hugged her and transported them to his place, where she had taken a shower to wash away the hurt and then he had given her a glass of his strongest drink.
…..
Being the most wanted was way better than being a deity. That had been his thoughts until Beauxbattons delegation had come and shared "Adventures of the Shadow" comics with Hogwarts students. After that he had started feeling fantasies of teenage girls dreaming being saved by a man in black spandex and started banging his head with despair against the table in the great hall to complete incredulity of all around him. Why, why the worship again?!
…..
"Barty, did he really say that!?", had asked very scared Peter Pettigrew.
"Yes Wormtail, my father blabbed all about it. He is head of the Finger. He hates that Umbridge tasked personally him with finding and disposing of the shadow wizard, he wanted to have nice and quiet tournament year."
Peter was very scared indeed. What would Voldemort going to do to him after hearing the news.
"So the plan stays the same?", asked Pettigrew.
"Yes. Potter's blood is the best. He will be strong."
Peter wasn't sure. There never had been a wizard who could hold spells with bare hands or otherwise.
…..
The nerve of Crouch?! He had had the nerve to come to his house and ask him to come back on the force. After throwing his wife in Azkaban. Hadn't he known Xenophilius was strong enough to overcome the false memories of the accident. They had planted false memories in the mind of his daughter. His daughter was still having nightmares about her mother's dead face. His wife had died in Azkaban because she had spoken of evolution.
He was going to see that Griphook fellow and ask him to get him an erumpent horn. Griphook can get anything and without asking questions. Xenophilius was going to blow up the bloody Ministry.
…..
He had not been in Diagon Alley for some time, and had to admit he had not expected any change, certainly not of that level.
He would go with the flow and hope for the best. He had his lucky specterspecs with him.
He came to the clerk and asked if he could see Griphook. Naturally the clerk looked at him with deep contempt. Xenophilius was ready to turn around and leave, when suddenly Griphook appeared behind the clerk.
"You wear the glasses?", asked Griphook
"Yes?", said Xenophilius.
"Are you Annatar?"
"Yes", it was the Unspeakables' training – if you do shady dealings with someone and that someone asks if you are someone, you should answer yes.
"Please, allow me to express my gratitude for the assistance you gave me. I am very proud and pleased how fast we are advancing. Our previous science and technology were perfectly embedded in the new updated models. We have discovered great reserves of naquadah and trinium in the earth's mantle. Likewise, on Mars. We are building structures in the mantle and on Mars, cities and shipyards. Teams of our workers posing as muggle workers are replacing muggle infrastructures with the Nox magic-compatible technology."
…..
Xenophilius Lovegood was happy. Griphook had given him enough weapons, explosives and other technology, not only to create one formidable explosion in the Ministry, but he could organise a one-man army attack on the Ministry and kill them all. He knew muggle weapons and martial arts. He could go against the Shadow and that was why Crouch had come to him, but now he was going to kill the Ministry. Before that he had to find the Shadow. The Shadow was Annatar – that much was clear. Maybe he could be an ally.
