MC opened the small note from one of her pockets for the twenty-seventh time that night, questioning every street, building or alley that crossed her path. She knew she was in for an eventful night when she abandoned the magic world and landed in front of a muggle street lighted with oil lamps. Despite the lamps doubling on each side of the road and the odd gentleman heading home after a long day in the office, MC felt a gloomy atmosphere that contrasted with the vivid and boisterous energy of Diagon Alley.
One was full of life, while the other was buried in shadows that fluctuated around her like curtains disturbed by the wind. Not even when she lived between muggles did MC venture outside her home at that ungodly hour?
Her steps took her deeper between the streets of London, passing by smelly alleys and small restaurants that exuded the stench of rotten fish. MC's heart leapt when she kicked a trash can by mistake, and a cat that seemed to have lost half its life bolted out of the container and ran past her, leaving a strident mess behind.
- Boggarts! – She whispered/yelled.
With her heart and nerves on edge, she followed the glow of the butterfly that guided her down the alleys. The glittering light paled with the darkness surrounding it. The dreadful catacombs she used to visit did not achieve this feat.
Either that or years sitting behind a desk had made her a wuss.
Suddenly, she saw the butterfly fade into nothingness, and MC extinguished it once she realized she was in front of a magical shield created to keep muggles away. She saw the thin veil wavering like the soft threads of a spider web.
She looked down at her pocket watch.
8:23 pm
Her body subconsciously moved closer to the brick wall, making sure that not even a sliver of light could reach her concealment. However, the impatient tapping of her boots on the cobblestones gave away her position, an annoying and dangerous behaviour for a future Auror.
Far away from her, she heard the whistle of a train.
She looked at the watch again.
8:25 pm
- Come on! Where are you?
The veil was so close to her that she only needed to extend her hand a touch it, but doing so would suck her into the space that was created. If anyone was keeping watch around the vicinity, she would be found immediately.
There was no other choice than to wait for Mr. Diels to come and get her. When she looked up, hoping to get a good view of the stars, she was met with a thick cloud of chemical fumes smelling like pulverized soap and salt.
Disgusting.
Once again, she looked down and waited for those last seconds until it finally reached the 8:30 pm mark.
Yet still, she was alone in an alley.
Mr. Diels was nothing but punctual. If he said 8:30 pm, then 8:30 pm would be 15 minutes too late for him. She decided to wait some more but felt like her chances of learning something useful were slipping away.
After 20 minutes of pacing, singing, and bumping her forehead against the wall, she called it. She had to get in there, even if she had to confront an entire front of Aurors. She made a few heel jumps to charge herself with fake courage, palmed three times, and dove in.
As soon as her skin contacted the veil, she was met with a line of ash-covered buildings that had lost all colour, illuminated by humble oil lamps sitting on the windows. The ones on the sides were barely big enough to be considered houses with two floors, but the one in the centre was in flames. Not literal flames, but bright enough to cause some confusion since the windows and only door were bursting out with light coming from enchanted orbs that moved around the structure.
There were no lookouts, but so many wizards and witches were roaming about that a single step away from the alley would make her stand out. She could fight them -probably- for knowledge, but in doing so, MC would have to bring the building down to the seams.
"What's going on in there?"
Her first guess was that she was in another crime scene. But it seemed incredibly risky to kill a muggle in the city. Yet again, the Gaunt's prime suspects were a bit too narcissistic to care.
- Come on, MC. Think!
She wetted her lips to calm herself.
- I have to get in there.
Regardless of the time, the chatter coming from the building was overwhelming. People were screaming at each other, walking passively, and apparating everywhere. It was like a carnival inside the building- minus the music.
She thought that she could also appear inside and pretend she belonged, but her face was known to the entire community.
She thought hard but always came back to the same solution.
Her hand shuffled inside one of her coat's pockets and came out, grabbing onto a vial with a disgusting-looking potion. Byberg had taken her to several scenes like this one and provided her with a colourful assortment of Polyjuice Potions to keep her concealed. But without him, she didn't know which one to use.
The options varied, but pick the wrong one, and she would be facing the Head of Ministry, and Mr. Diels would be fired without a pension. Her eyes adjusted and scanned the blurry faces that danced between windows, trying to get a clue who was present.
That's when she saw him. The clerk, who had blue-black hair tied in a low and silky ponytail, was carrying a clipboard and making annotations. She didn't quite remember his name, but she did remember he had a soft spot for Tracy Wallace – the first person she impersonated during their ventures.
It was the best option because she had an inkling that she would need to look inside his box full of evidence. She put the vial back in her pocket and rummaged for the one labelled with the witch's name.
Without hesitation, she gulped the liquid, took a moment to gag at the taste, and waited for her features to change slowly. Once she stopped morphing, she apparated inside the building.
The sounds around her were overwhelming, and people screamed orders to one another. They walked quickly, bumping into her and running without giving her a second look.
She took the time to look around, but there was nothing out of place. Moving between the three apartments on the first floor, she studied the wallpaper, the rusty appliances and the abandoned mattress on the floor.
The clock was ticking.
She ran up the stairs to the second floor and was more of the same. Even rat droppings were being collected as evidence, and she saw the blue-haired man reaching to grab all the vials and pouches people handed him.
- Claus, this is disgusting – a young wizard complained.
- Keep at it – he wrote down in his notes.
His voice was monotonous, but a spark in his eyes told her he was highly motivated.
- THE WOMAN IS SEIZING!
MC jumped at the scream behind her, but when she turned around, all she could see was a bunch of grey coats running up to the third floor. Looking back at Claus, she saw him making notes like nothing else was amiss. When he looked up, however, his eyes found hers.
A small smile appeared in the corner of his mouth, and a subtle nod of recognition was his only greeting. He went back to his work, and MC thought he was waiting for her to make a move.
It was a conundrum.
He had the answers she needed, but something was far more exciting up on the third floor. However, it felt as if Claus would not forgive her if she chose to go to the third floor to quench her curiosity.
He looked at her again, compelling her to come closer to him. He seemed rather fond of the idea of having a trainee.
She smiled softly and stepped inside the room where several men and women were scraping the walls from the original decoration and cleaning the furniture individually as if afraid to miss something. Pushing down her nerves, she went to greet him politely but was pulled by the neck of her coat from behind. The force caused her to choke.
- There you are! I have been looking for you all over!
Not content with choking her, Garreth was also half dragged down the hallway by the scruff, tripping her and occasionally smashing her shoulders against the walls. She saw Claus looking at them with confusion right before they entered an abandoned apartment that had been cleaned.
- What are you doing? – She turned around and struggled to make him lose his grip.
- What are you doing here?
She was finally able to look at him properly. His hair was a bit longer than usual, dark bags sitting under his eyes, and ruffled clothes that smelled like potion fumes.
- Nothing – she cleared her throat to collect her thoughts -. Mr. Diels brought me with him – she tried to change the topic -. And what is the Potions Master doing here?
- CUT THE CRAP, MC!
Her hair stood up in fear. Garreth had never yelled at her, or anyone for that matter.
- I am not...
- Oh, I swear to Merlin, if you lie to me again, I'll take you to the Ministry myself.
She clamped her mouth shut.
- What are you doing here?
- I... I...
He was tapping his foot on the floor, his hands on his waist and forearms exposed.
- Talk.
- I am trying to...
He cut her off.
- Did Byberg tell you to come here?
- WHAT? NO! – She didn't want to get him in trouble – I came alone.
- I said no more lies, missy.
- I am not lying!
- I am still your friend! – He took a sudden step forward -. You will not get in trouble with me, but I need to understand why you are here alone.
She kept quiet.
- You are supposed to always be with Byberg when in places like this!
- How...? - Her brain had difficulty keeping up with him -. How did you know?
He looked at her like she was stupid.
- You really didn't know? – One of his hands wiped the sweat from his forehead – I am the one who gave him the Polyjuice Potions.
Her mouth was agape.
- He said he wanted you to learn, and I agreed. But the condition was for him to accompany you. So, where is he?
She shook her head to regain her bearings.
- I don't know. He... - sighed – was supposed to meet me in the alley but stood me up. I thought he was already inside.
Garreth refused her words.
- I haven't seen him.
- Well... I am already here! Can't I just take a look around?
He shook his head.
- Of course not!
- Why?
- Because – he gestured to her body - you... she...Ugh! Tracy is here.
- Who?
- TRACY! Tracy Wallace! The woman whose face you are wearing!
- Shit!
- Quite.
- I didn't think that she...
- MC, you have to go.
She was taken aback by the rude command.
- What? But I don't want to!
- I am sorry -he was being sarcastic-. I forgot to ask for your opinion. Could you please leave?
- Garreth!
He groaned.
- Come on! I just want to see it for myself -she looked expectant- I can hide! My disillusionment enchantment is excellent.
- "Excellent" won't cut it in a building full of Aurors.
- Please?
- No – he kept his eyes away from her pleading ones.
- I thought you were my friend.
- Now that... – he was about to say she was being unfair, but his eyes clashed with her mute desperation. How could she make her eyes look so big and pitiful? He would never know -. That's just so...
- Just a quick peek – her hands gestured to form a short line with her fingers -. She won't see me.
Garreth's hands travelled roughly from his cheeks and up until he was pulling on his golden locks. A heavy sigh shook his body.
- You are going to get me fired.
She was victorious but tried to suppress her smile.
@#@#@#@
They walked out of the room and blended with the sea of wizards. There were so many that walking without bumping against the wall was hard.
- Aren't you going to tell me what you are doing here?
- Won't you instead I tell you once we get there?
- I fear we won't have that much time for me to enjoy the scene.
Garreth grimaced.
- I wouldn't call it a joy – they reached the bottom of the stairs and whispered to each other while ascending-. We have three victims on the third floor. Two men and a woman. Muggles found them this morning, but we had to wait for the Unspeakables to clean the building from any residual Dark Magic. I was told it was so thick the muggles who found them almost turned into Inferi.
- Damn.
- Yeah.
- And what about the victims?
- The younger man – about seventeen years old – died two hours ago.
- How?
- He was hit with the Entrail Expelling Curse.
- Fuck.
- The poor lad kept himself alive for hours before we got here. It wasn't a pretty sign.
MC placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to show compassion. But Garreth didn't want to think or feel anything.
- I am sorry you had to see that.
- I was brought here to help them, but... there isn't much to do. The other two were still alive, but just barely - they were about to reach the third floor, and unlike the other two, this was almost too quiet -. The older man was the lucky one.
- How come?
- My guess? Crucio. He was tortured for hours.
One of her eyebrows went up.
- You call that being lucky? I know what that curse can do, and let me tell you...
- He is catatonic – he interrupted her -. The man is unable to feel anything at the moment.
He wiped the sweat forming over his eyebrows.
- Oh.
- Yeah. Well, he sometimes has these lucid spells where he experiences the aftershocks of the curse. But it only lasts a couple minutes.
MC grimaced at the thought of experiencing such horrid pain over and over.
- I am sure you will think of something.
- Thank you – his smile didn't reach his eyes -. I was actually thinking about giving him a Draught of the Living Death. It would help to keep him unconscious.
She nodded thoughtfully but flinched when a group of witches walked out of one of the apartments and down the stairs. They both remained next to the landing, taking a moment to get her up to speed.
- Sure. But what good would that do, though? The effects will pass eventually, and too much of that potion can be harmful.
Garreth nodded his head.
- Unless I add dragon's blood to the potion.
A nasty feeling lodged in her chest. She looked at her friend and was not surprised to see him looking down at his boots.
- Why would you do that?
- It's literally the best I can do for him.
- Are you kidding me? – He didn't answer – Garreth, the blood of any fire-born creature can...
- Render the effects of a potion permanent. I know.
He kept avoiding her eyes.
- But if you do that... he will never wake up!
- I KNOW THAT! – He pressed a fist over his lips to keep himself from screaming in frustration. – What am I meant to do? Mm? I can't send him back to the muggles with a condition they can't understand.
Her eyes widened in horror.
- Send him back?
He kept nodding while biting his lower lip.
- In three hours – the redhead raised three fingers to emphasize his stress -. I have three hours... to turn their condition into something manageable for muggles to deal with.
MC was at a loss for words.
- They will take good care of the victims.
- No, they won't! Why can't we send them to St. Mungus?
He scoffed at the ludicrous idea.
- I mean it, Garreth! They can get help!
- MC, do you know how hard it was for me to get just the smallest amount of Dragon Blood?
She turned her head away from him out of sheer stubbornness.
- Now, can you imagine how hard and expensive it would be to take care of them? All of them?
She wanted to remark that the medical expenses couldn't be that elevated with only two victims. But then remembered Professor Sharp's words.
- Still...
- I will do what I can for them, MC. But we shouldn't make ourselves responsible for the actions of a rogue Wizard.
Instinctively, her finger went up, and she poked him in the chest with it.
- Actually, we should!
Garreth pushed her hand away from him and once again guided her to an apartment at the end of the hallway. Moans and cries were coming out of it, mixed with the whispers of clerks and healers.
She touched his shoulder to make him stop in his tracks.
- Please – he was avoiding her -. Look at me.
Although his head was raised, his eyes looked through a window behind her.
- We are the Ministry of Magic – her hands reached for his cheeks and forced him to make eye contact -. Sure. We didn't curse them. But we are responsible for cleaning this mess. It's literally our job!
- And we are cleaning it – not only did he not believe his own words, but he also teared up when a scream coming from the apartment ricocheted against the walls.
- No. This is just a quick swipe under the rug.
- It's the best we can do.
She shook her head, still refusing to believe him.
- MC – he grabbed her shoulders -. It's the best we can do! I will do my best to prevent them from suffering any further, but please stop trying to make me feel guilty about this.
- That's not what I am doing!
- Yes, it is – his whispers turned harsh -. There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of muggle victims all around the globe. How do you expect us to take care of them all? St. Mungus is not running a charity, and the Ministry can hardly sustain our salaries, let alone the medical bills of thousands. So, yes! We swipe it under the rug and hope for the best.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward.
- Worse that can happen is that I lose some sleep or turn downright cynical.
A/N
As usual, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and don't forget to vote ;). I'll soon dive more into Ominis and MC's relationship.
Leave your comments, and don't forget to vote ;).