Unofficial Portkey Archive

Muggle Summer, Wizard's Fall

A/N: Yes, I'm back, after a brief (if a 50k word story can be considered "brief") exploration of the defenses about Privet Drive. Thanks for your patience. Now that my muse has feasted on fluff, this story is back with a 9k word update and what should be a fairly regular schedule.

Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

Chapter 57: The Ministry of Meetings

Monday, July 9, 7:00am
Ministry of Magic

Having recently celebrated his one hundred and twenty-third birthday, Archibald Oswald considered himself too damn old to be sleeping on the office couch. But as the freshly-minted Director of Magical Law Enforcement, he thought it important to lead by example, and if not being able to trust the floo network meant that most of his staff had to stay holed up inside the Ministry, then so would he.

On his return from a bland but filling cafeteria breakfast, Oswald found a half-dozen new memos flying in a circular holding pattern in front of his door. He sighed, then ducked his head as he opened his door and the memos buzzed by, joining a queue that was lined up for an in-basket landing.

Oswald poured himself a cup of tea from service that had been set on a side table by one of the Ministry's house-elves. Ignoring for a moment the sheer volume of memos waiting his attention, he sat down and watched as the Ministry's pecking order played out in spelled parchment. Correspondence from the Minister's office and from other Directors were particularly vicious as they slapped lower status memos down within the stack.

What the Director wanted to see first that morning were memos that summarized troop strengths, analyzed the recent attacks, updated injury reports and detailed funeral arrangements for his fallen Aurors. But as these reports would be prepared by his staff, rather than from the Minister's office or by the other Directors, they were buried in the stack, underneath "highest priority" memos, like the one written by Percy Weasley that proposed changes in the number of blueberry scones to be set out during Cabinet Meetings.

Director Oswald plowed through the stack of "highest priority" memos. There was, of course, nothing of significance within these documents…none of the Directors liked to tip their hands too far in advance of the meeting if there were power plays to be made, or blame to be assigned. But with decades of bureaucratic diligence drilled into his soul, the elderly wizard paid no mind as he initialed his receipt and scribbled a short notes where needed.

Once the drivel was disposed of, Oswald fished out the reports prepared by his unit managers and reviewed them with a fine-toothed comb. He muttered during most of this process…there were still many unanswered questions about the weekend attacks…questions that he would need answers for.

The elderly wizard sighed, then fired off three quick memos requesting his direct reports's immediate presence. Based on past experience, he expected the three to trickle in over the next half-hour or so. Such was the level of respect he'd managed to garner during his short tenure as Director of the reorganized (and severely downsized) MLE Department.

Under the Ministerial reorganization, much of the power that formerly resided within the MLE was transferred to other Departments. Dolores Umbridge took control of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and renamed it the "Secret Security Office," with broad authority to protect the secrets of the magical world from muggles. In the process, more than half of the Auror Department was transferred, and assigned to either the SSO's "Compliance Office" or to a "Rapid Response Squadron" of obliviators and magical reversal specialists. More staff were lost when the Magical Surveillance Office was taken from MLE and elevated to a Cabinet-level Department, and when Arthur Weasley's office was transferred to his son's control as part of the regulation of magical commerce.

Minister Scrimgeour had claimed that these changes were necessary, given that the Department of Magical Beasts and Creatures was to be folded into MLE, but the mass balance didn't work. Many of the B&C personnel had already been transferred out of the department to take positions formerly held by exposed Death Eaters, and the Minister's Office had either left these positions vacant or backfilled them with school-aged interns. Some of these teen-aged students were even acting as section leads.

Two of the direct reports surprised him by appearing several minutes earlier than Oswald had expected.

"Wanted to see us boss?" asked Head Auror Gawain Robards, as he entered the Director's glass-walled office.

"Yes, come in gentlemen, come in."

"Should I get the door?" asked Hit Wizard #1.

"Still waiting for…ah, perhaps this is her now," said the Director. With a beckoning wave he ushered the last meeting participant into the office.

With a surreptitious glance down at his org chart, he said, "So, it you're turn to play acting MB&C Director this week, Miss…Turpin?"

Sixth Year Ravenclaw and current Ministry intern Lisa Turpin looked at the three wizards rather nervously and said, "Yes sir, Director Oswald."

"So, how are things in the Spirits Division?"

"Well, rather busy, once I was informed that the Minister's Office considers Dementors to be Spirits," Lisa replied.

"Yes, well…I imagine that the Ministry wasn't too particular about their classification when they were under our employ, eh ?"

Head Auror and Hit Wizard #1 snorted in unison.

"Right then, might as well start," said the Director. "H.W., you can get the door, now."

The Hit Wizard closed the door behind him as the Head Auror and that week's Acting Director of Magical Beasts and Creatures took seats in front of their Director's desk.

"I've read your reports on this weekend's attacks, and need some additional information and, erm…clarifications so that I'm better prepared for this afternoon's Cabinet Meeting."

"Better prepared to save his own arse," the Head Auror thought to himself.

Director Oswald then turned to Lisa and said, "Let's start with the Dementor and werewolf attacks, then."

Lisa nodded. "You should have both my report and the report prepared by the Werewolf Restraint Office."

"Yes, I read them this morning," the MLE Director replied. "I'm a bit disappointed that we had to rely upon civilians to fight the Dementors in Inverness."

"Didn't have any choice, boss," said Head Auror Robards, jumping to the young witch's defense. "All of the Patronus-qualified Aurors were commandeered for obliviation duty."

"Yes, well….these citizens have not yet been interviewed?"

"No, sir," Auror Robards replied. "Won't be able to until I get my witches and wizards back into the fold."

"That will be discussed this afternoon, I assure you," Oswald replied. He then added, "At least there weren't any casualties in those attacks."

"What do you mean, sir?" asked Lisa.

"Exactly what I said," Oswald replied. "It's from your own report, Miss Turpin…no witches or wizards were kissed during the attack."

"No, but more than two-hundred muggles were, and that's in the report as well," Lisa retorted.

"Yes, well…I guess if you want to expand your casualty count that way…"

Lisa bit her tongue. She was rather incensed at the Director's cavalier attitude towards muggle deaths, but didn't want to say anything that would get her booted from the balance of the meeting.

"Moving on, then…quite hard to believe that werewolves were immobilized and killed by muggle chemicals."

"I don't think you need to call them muggle, necessarily," said Gawain Robards. "Colloidal silver is, I'm told, and ingredient in certain potions, and the spray was used in conjunction with magical, erm…swamps."

Oswald snorted. "Silver-flavored water and swamps…any progress on tracking down the missing werewolves?"

"No, sir," Lisa replied. "But perhaps the Head Auror…."

Gawain nodded. "As you know, Director, we never did catch up with the pack that destroyed Arthur Weasley's house out in Devon. As for the Diagon Alley pack, it appears that the four who peeled off from the attack and killed one of my men inside the Leaky Cauldron escaped into the muggle world."

"What of the other missing werewolf, then?"

Gawain shook is head. "We found no evidence within the joke shop of more than the seven carcasses that we recovered. There must have been eleven total, rather than the twelve that was originally reported."

"And the muggles…still no reports of werewolf attacks by the ones that escaped?"

"No, sir," Gawain replied truthfully.

"Well maybe that part of the night actually worked out," Oswald replied. "Moving on…H.W.?"

"Yes, boss?"

"Your Department was notified that at least three of the fugitive wizards on your Hit List were involved in the Diagon Alley, St. Mungo's and Hogsmeade attacks on Saturday night. None of them were apprehended, yet you place the blame for this failure on other departments rather than on your own."

"Yes, Director."

"These other departments are under the control of Directors Weasley and Umbridge."

"Erm, yes…and your point is?"

"My point is that I need to be certain that this is that truly the case before I present that to the Minister this morning."

"Director," the lead Hit Wizard said, "One of my witches has a friend that was working in the Surveillance Office that night. She says that it took more than six minutes to notify the MLE from the time that each of those Death Eaters cast their first detected spells. Six minutes!"

"Oh," replied the Director. "I see." He paused for a moment and then asked, "This anecdotal account, then…it involves some sort of whistle blower who spoke out of turn…presumably without authorization?"

"Hard to be a whistle blower if your information has been authorized for release," quipped Director Robards.

"Gawain…"

"What, are you going to kill the messenger?"

"I imagine that I'd be standing in that line behind Madame Umbridge, if I disclosed that one of her people had talked out of turn."

Oswald looked down at the Hit Wizard's report. "Your teams also took more than eight minutes to mobilize from the time that you were notified."

"Yeah," spat the indignant Hit Wizard. "By the time we were notified, anti-apparition wards had gone up over the targets, so my team needed portkeys. But could we make them ourselves? No-o-o-o, of course not. Only authorized ministry personnel in the Portkey Office can make portkeys, and that ponce Weasley had understaffed the office Saturday night, because he didn't want to pay the overtime! It ended up being quicker to ask Head Auror Robards for rides using his badge, and by the time our teams arrived on scene the targets were long gone."

"Yes, well, I don't think Head Auror Robards wants to be dragged into your mess…he's got his own to worry about, eh Gawain?"

"Excuse me?" asked the Head Auror.

"Your own mess, well, it'll be mine, actually….two dead and three wounded Aurors in Diagon Ally, delayed responses to the attacks at St. Mungo's and Hogsmeade, no Death Eaters caught or killed…"

"And all of my pre-positioned Auror teams in those locations pulled away by Umbridge five minutes before the attacks occurred and ordered to join Oblivator Squads at the muggle attack sites," added the Head Auror. "Because Merlin knows that the wizarding world's secrets are more important than the lives of the witches and wizards that live within it."

"Well, yes, they are, aren't they?" asked the MLE Director. "But frankly, I'm more worried about your actions after the attacks, Head Auror." He pointed towards a stack of spent Howlers and stated, "Six different complaints from Madame Umbridge, stating that you overstepped your authority at the muggle attack sites."

"And she'd be wrong," Robards retorted. "Those twelve attacks were obviously coordinated Death Eater diversions that worked. And last time I checked, the Auror Department still has the authority to investigate Death Eater attacks."

"Death Eaters?" asked Oswald. "What evidence do you have that the muggles were attacked by Death Eaters? I see no reports of Dark Marks, or wizards dressed in Death Eater robes."

"What evidence?" asked an incredulous Auror. "Twelve attacks all at the same precise time across the bloody country…what do you think it was, a massive coincidental dose of accidental magic?"

"Circumstantial, at best," Oswald replied. "Since none of these twelve so-called Death Eaters were captured…"

"Not surprising, since it was Umbridge's goons that were first notified by the MSO,"

"Head Auror Robards!" admonished his boss. "I'll not have you talking that way about our colleagues in the Secret Security Office. You might think that your Order of Merlin is enough to carry you through this mess, but you'll be lucky if I can save your badge." The Director then added, "Why should I try to keep what's left of this department together? Merlin knows I didn't get my hundred-year service pin by sticking my neck out."

"Of course you didn't," Gawain quipped. "You regulated dragons."

"Yes, well I haven't found Umbridge and Weasley to be any less vicious," Oswald observed. He gave the three subordinates a calculated glare, then said, "Look, I am well aware of why I was put in this position…they wanted to set someone like me up for failure, just so it'd be easier to gut what's left of this Department and divvy up the spoils amongst the other Directors."

"I wouldn't go that far…" said Hit Wizard One.

"Why not, I do," Oswald replied. "More I think about it, the more I want to just wash my hands of all this and return to my old job and pay grade."

"But you can't, sir…"

"Why not?" asked Oswald. "Dragons are far easier to work with than politicians. They're both wily, calculating, deadly beasts, but at least when a dragon dies you get some new boots out of the deal…think there'd be much of a market for tanning Umbridge's hide once she bites it?"

Robards snorted. "Well, toad skin is one of the more popular potion ingredients, isn't it?"

The MLE Director shook his head dismissively. "Laugh now, but she might be your Director if I can't hold my own this afternoon."

That statement got the three subordinate wizards's attention.

"So, Chief," Gawain said rather contritely, "what can we do to help?"

oo00OO00oo

Once the brainstorming session ended, Peanut Butter Brigader Lisa Turpin used the lift to return to the Fourth Level offices of Magical Beasts and Creatures. Along the way she stopped to use the witch's lavatory, where, after determining that she was alone, she entered a lavatory stall, closed the door and pulled a single unstoppered glass vial from her purse.

Lisa sat down and concentrated on the complete memory of that morning's meeting and the documents that she had read. Once she was certain that she had the memory properly segregated, she drew her wand and placed it against her temple. A very long silvery thread was drawn out of her head, and guided into the vial, which the young witch then corked. Lisa then used a sticking charm to hide the small vial behind the toilet tank, flushed the unused toilet, then made her way out to the washbasins. Thankful that she was the only witch using the lavatory, she straightened her hair, took a deep breath, and walked back out into the hallway.

Once Lisa returned to her desk she wrote a short memo to another Ravenclaw witch, suggesting that they meet for lunch. After folding the memo into a distinctive origami swan, she sent it flying off to its destination.

Five minutes later, a mailroom intern got her own piece of mail. After reading the memo Luna Lovegood penned an affirmative reply and sent it back off. Luna then let her supervisor know that she was going to make her morning nargle inspection, and made her way to a pre-arranged dead drop location.

Luna had made it known within her office group that she preferred to inspect her navel and other body cavities within the Fourth Level Witch's Lavatory. Her boss and coworkers accepted this excuse as a way for the young witch to steal a few minutes time visiting her boyfriend in the Goblin Liaison Office. The Magical Surveillance Office personnel who were in charge of monitoring the movements of known associates of Harry Potter did as well, so no alarms were raised when Luna took a detour after using the lavatory and knocked on Ron Weasley's office door.

"Come in," called out Ron.

Luna walked into the office closed the door, then ripped open the Velcro-fixed flap in her robes and smiled.

"Want to check for ants in my pants, Ronnie?"

Ron smiled and nodded as he rose from his chair, walked around to the front of his desk, and dropped to his knees. As he reached inside her robes, Luna shook her head.

"I think that they'll be easier to taste them than to feel them."

Ron snorted as Luna reached out and pulled her boyfriend's head towards her bared midriff.

"There's one particular spot," Luna said, as she encouraged him to search lower and lower. A few moments later, Luna pulled the wizard's head away from her belly and began to rearrange her clothing.

"Well. Ronnikins, did you find any?" she asked with a smile.

Ron shook his head and replied, "Mmm-mmm."

"Oh, I could have sworn…perhaps you should check later this afternoon?"

Ron nodded and gave Luna a thumbs-up.

Once Luna left the office, the tight-lipped Ron reached for his teacup, took a sip, then spit the contents of his mouth back into the cup.

"Smiley!" he called out.

A Ministry house-elf instantly popped into his office.

"This tea is cold," said the wizard. "Take it away and bring me back something that's at the right temperature."

The house-elf's eyes went wide as it took the teacup and plate. 'Yes, Mr. Weasley, sir…right away, Mr. Weasley, sir."

The house-elf popped away to the Ministry of Magic's kitchens, where she reappeared within a small supply closet.

"Dobby!" the house-elf called out.

Harry Potter's favorite house-elf popped into the closet.

"Yes, Smiley?" he asked.

"Mr. Ron Weasley's tea was cold," she replied.

Dobby started to fidget rather nervously. "I will be taking care of that for you, Smiley." He took the cup and saucer from the other house-elf and popped to the Hogwarts kitchens. It took just a moment for him to seek out and find his target. With another pop he disappeared, and reappeared within the walls of a different castle located a few hundred miles to the south.

"Mr. Harry Potter, sir?"

The Queen's Wizard looked up from an intelligence report that he was reading in his guest bedroom at Holyrood House.

"Hey Dobby, what's up?"

"Mr. Clan Champion's tea was being cold."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Was it now? Well, perhaps I should see."

"Yes, Mr. Harry Potter, sir," Dobby replied, as he held out the teacup.

Harry looked inside the teacup and fished out the stoppered vial that had traveled from London to Edinburgh via a lavatory dead drop, Luna's knickers, Ron's mouth, a teacup, and two house-elves. He held the vial up to the light, noted the silvery string trapped inside, and nodded.

"Thank you Dobby, and please thank the other house-elf for me as well."

"Yes, Mr. Harry Potter, sir," Dobby beamed, then popped away.

Harry shook his head as he considered all of the cloak and dagger that had gone into that morning's intelligence transfer. It would have been so much easier to have just badge-jumped into Ron's office to get the memory, but there were some concerns that all of the interns, and Ron especially, were being watched.

Fortunately, there were far fewer concerns about monitored badge travel within the muggle world. After a quick call to let Steve know that he had to be away from the Queen for a few hours, Harry badge-jumped to Windsor, retrieved his pensieve, and then jumped to 10 Downing Street, where he planned on sharing Lisa's memory with Hermione.

Meanwhile, Smiley had returned to the Goblin Liaison Office with a replacement cup of tea.

"Thank you, Smiley," said Ron. He took a sip, and then let a very satisfied smile creep onto his face as he thought about his little scene with Luna. While they had received some rudimentary training in dead-drops and other espionage techniques from their muggle MI-5 ¾ colleagues, there had been no mention of passing off information via simulated oral sex.

That, of course, was Luna's idea.

Ron thought it was rather brilliant.

oo00OO00oo

Having finished preparations for his Cabinet Meeting, Special Assistant to the Minister Percy Weasley sat back in his office chair with the Ministry's latest organizational chart in hand and assessed the latest threats to his upwardly mobile career. The floo shutdown happened on his watch, and there were bound to be complaints about the Portkey Office, but given all of the weekend issues associated with departments run by other cabinet ministers, Percey thought that there were opportunities to add to his square footage.

There had been a time, early on in his career at the Ministry, when Percy considered this type of exercise to be unnecessary…a time when he naively thought it was enough to work hard and play by the rules. But the fates of Barty Crouch, and Cornelius Fudge had disabused him of that kind of idealism, and none too soon; had his ability to cover his bureaucratic bits not been well developed by the time he started to work with Madame Umbridge, she would have gnawed on them most severely.

Like Dolores Umbridge, Percy still clung to the Special Assistant title that made it clear to everyone that he was tight with the Minister of Magic. Clung to it so much, in fact, that he favored it over his official cabinet position, which was "Director of Magical Education, Transportation, Commerce and International Relations." Of course, this preference was much more understandable given some of the contempt within the Ministry for his position…since his box on the org chart sat right next to the Department of Mysteries, more than a few of his colleagues and subordinates had come to call Percy's domain the "Department of Knowns".

Despite the nickname, Percy felt quite satisfied with his present position within the Ministry. Aside from the Unspeakables, he was in charge of everyone and every office within the Ministry not associated with the defense of the wizarding world. This included two of the original seven Ministry departments (Transportation and International Relations), as well as two new subdepartments that gave him supervisory or regulatory control over Hogwarts, his father, and twin brothers. With all that in hand, losing control of magical surveillance had been rather easy to swallow.

Percy stared hard at the organizational chart, looking for openings. The werewolf attacks fell under Magical Beasts and Creatures, which had been folded under Magical Law Enforcement, but it would be hard to argue that that division would be better off under his umbrella…it was far more likely that the MLE would be added to Madame Umbridge's portfolio as part of an expanded Secret Security Office. But then most of the incidents that past Saturday had involved muggles, and were under her purview, so she would be hard-pressed to claim that she was capable of taking even more on. A more reasonable scenario would be that the MLE Director would be sacked, and if that happened…..

Special Assistant Weasley counted boxes. While he held sway over far more ministry personnel than the MLE Director, the Ministry's org chart didn't reflect that fact; Director Oswald still had as many boxes linked to his name as Percy did. Which Percy thought was ridiculous…the Centaur Liaison Office, for example, still had a place on the chart, even though that office was vacant! Maybe, just maybe…Percy gathered his papers and made his way towards the MLE for some tactful negotiations.

10:30 Thames House, Millbank, London

After pulling into an open space within the car park underneath MI-5 Headquarters, Chief Inspector Kate Miller shifted her new "company car" into neutral and slammed her foot on the accelerator. The responding roar of the BMW's 3.2 litre, 333 horsepower engine brought a satisfied smile to her face...nothing in Brixton Station's motor pool could come close to making a sound like that.

Unfortunately, her passenger was more confused than enthused.

"Is that a required action whenever a muggle car is parked?" Remus asked.

Kate turned and replied, "It is when you finally get to drive one of these lovelies." She then killed the engine, unbuckled her seat belt and added, "Come on, Remy, we're running a tad late."

The former DADA professor rolled his eyes as he followed suit and got out of the car. CI Miller had given him the new nickname after deciding that "Remus" wasn't sexy enough for a secret agent…and stuck with it, despite his protests.

"Hard to believe we're late, given how fast you drove here," he said.

"Yes, well, we did make a few wrong turns…figured you would have known how to get to your headquarters."

Remus shook his head. "First time here…I've been swept up into this just as much as you have."

Kate nodded as she pushed the remote door lock button on her key chain. She snorted as her partner flinched at the car's chirped response.

"Getting better, Remy…didn't draw your wand this time."

Remus just shook his head, and mentally reviewed the list of pranks he intended to play on his partner once there was time for him to enjoy them.

The two made their way through automatic glass doors to a security checkpoint. Remus was amused by the fact that, as a credentialed MI-5 agent, he was given the responsibility of minding his partner during the Metropolitan Police officer's visit to "his" headquarters.

"That necklace looks good on you, Kate," he quipped, as they waited for an opened lift

The Chief Inspector looked down at red laminated badge that yelled out "GUEST" in big block letters and frowned.

"Would have thought the silver chain would have put you off," she replied.

Remus smiled. "No worries…it's muggle made, so the chances of that being real silver are slim and none."

Kate and Remus returned to business banter once the lift dropped them off at the appropriate floor. An escort was waiting there to take them through a second security check, and from there to a forensic pathology laboratory. Remus's senses were assaulted by the combination of strong iridescent lighting and chemical odors, so much that he didn't even notice the sharp drop in temperature as they entered the room. A white lab-coat wearing muggle was there to greet them.

"Ah-hah, here we are, here we are," the muggle announced, as he strode towards the entrance. "I'm Dr. Samsky, resident c-mug pathologist and xenobiologist."

"Chief Inspector Miller," Kate replied, as she shook hands, with the man. "And this is my partner, Agent Lupin."

The scientist's eyebrows arched slightly as he shook the werewolf's hand. "I'm thrilled to finally meet you, Agent Lupin."

Remus eyed the muggle warily…the glint in the c-mug's eyes looked slightly predatory.

"Now, Agent Lupin, I was told that you have something of interest for us?"

Remus nodded as he pulled the small block of wood from his coat pocket and handed it to the pathologist. Samsky examined the block and marveled. "So, there really is a full-sized body inside here?"

"No, Dr. Samsky, the box is the body."

"Amazing, simply amazing," the pathologist replied, as he walked over to the center of the room and placed the block on one of two gurneys. Remus noticed that another small rectangular object was resting on the other bed.

"So, Agent Lupin, if you could work your magic, we could get started then," the doctor said.

Remus nodded as he drew his wand, then took a look around. "Might want to move all this back," he noted, as he waved his arms towards the electronic equipment that surrounded the beds.

Having seen some rather expensive machines fried by stray magnetic fields, the MI-5 ¾ pathologist didn't need to be told twice, and pushed the wheeled equipment off to the side. Remus then cast Finite Encantatum spells on the two small objects, returning them to original form.

"Fascinating," the pathologist said, as two female bodies (one nude, the other clothed) appeared before him. He approached the gurneys and placed latex gloved fingers on the neck of each cadaver.

"Good heavens this one is still warm!" he exclaimed, as he turned towards the Alpha Bitch's reverted form. "What time was this one shot?"

"Approximately 2010 last night," stated Kate.

"Truly remarkable," the c-mug exclaimed. "It is one thing to know that magic exists…quite another to see it in action like this." He took a closer look at the bullet-riddled skull and stated, "These entry points look altered…different than the others."

CI Miller nodded. "She was shot within a magical jurisdiction. Wizards don't like the idea of guns being used around them, so the slugs were removed in the field."

Wilson nodded. "That'll make facial reconstruction a tad more difficult."

"We could probably get you the original slugs, if that would help," offered Remus.

"Thanks, but I think that we'll be able to work with what we have."

"No need to reconstruct this face," Remus said, as he looked down at the other cadaver. "This is Alecto Carrow."

"And she was a werewolf too?" Wilson asked.

Lupin shook his head. "No, she was born that ugly."

The pathologist snorted as he walked over to the side of the room and began wheeling the equipment back towards the bodies.

"We'll get started straight away on this facial reconstruction, then," he said. "Now that the hocus pocus is done, I can bring in my MI-5 colleagues and get their help…should have a head shot and preliminary autopsy results for you in a few hours."

Kate and Remus left the pathologist to his work and made their way to their second scheduled meeting within MI-5's biometric laboratory. Once there, their retinal patterns and other body parts were scanned and saved into a top-secret database for future access to high-security areas, such as MI-5 ¾'s headquarters. The wizard was amazed by the muggle technology, and said so. He didn't, however, have the heart to tell the scientists and technicians who were gathering the data that a simple polyjuice potion would likely fool the machines.

After being poked and prodded, Kate and Remus made their way to the Ministry's cafeteria for lunch. Dr. Samsky sent Kate a text message during their meal, indicating that he already had some results to report, so the two made their way back to his workspace. Classical music was playing in the background as the two entered the pathology lab, but it was the smell of death that caught their attention; Dr. Samsky and a colleague were wrist deep into the opened chest cavity of the female werewolf.

"Ah, welcome back, Chief Insector, Agent Lupin," the pathologist said, as he pulled bloodied gloves off of his hands and tossed them into a red biohazard bag. He then led them to a computer workstation and sat in front of two large monitors. With a few deft keystrokes, passwords were entered and photographic images appeared on screen.

"We've had some initial success identifying "Werewolf Doe," Samsky quipped. He pointed towards the screens. "The first photo on the left should look familiar…that's how she looked before we started poking around in her skull. This second photo is a computerized reconstruction of what she probably looked like before she was shot seven times in the head."

"How did you do that?" asked Remus.

"With the right equipment," Samsky replied. "We used lasers to obtain a detailed three-dimensional model of the subject's head, including all of the bullet holes. Then, based on bullet trajectories and depths, the computer pieced back together the broken bones and filled in the bullet holes, to show us what the subject looked like before she was shot."

Remus nodded as he compared the computer rendering to an actual photographic image on the other screen. "And this third photograph, then?"

"It's a potential match for the subject," Dr. Samsky said proudly. "Once we had the rendering we searched our database of criminal records."

Chief Inspector Miller nodded, looking at the text that accompanied the mug shot. "Maggie Stevens, age thirty-one, arrested and convicted of violating the Queen's Peace three different times."

"What did she do?" asked Remus.

Kate leaned over Dr. Samsky's shoulders and used the computer keyboard to link to additional data. "Two minor assaults, involveing pub brawls, and the third…public indecency."

"Public indecency?"

Kate frowned. "According to the records, she was found passed out drunk and naked in the street back in 1996."

"Really?" asked Remus. "What time of day was this?"

"Six-thirty in the morning…surprised she didn't freeze to death, given the time of year."

"When?"

"January sixth," Kate replied.

Agent Lupin thought for a moment, and then asked, "Can you look up historic lunar phases with that computer?"

Kate raised and eyebrow, then turned to Dr. Samsky.

"Suppose we could search the Internet," he replied. The pathologist opened his browser and tried to Google search "lunar cycle 1996." When the first couple of pages of results failed to turn up anything more interesting than how to do tarot readings, Kate suggested the search terms "full moon," and "1996." The second hit on that search produced a web page that listed the date of every full moon since 1940. Dr. Samsky scrolled down the page for the right year and said, "There you go."

Remus looked over the pathologist's shoulder and smiled. "First full moon that year was the fifth of January."

Chief Inspector Miller turned towards her partner and grinned. "Hey, I'm supposed to be the detective here, not you, Remy."

"What did I just miss?" asked Dr. Samsky.

Remus smiled. "Werewolves have a nasty habit of waking up naked and disorientated on the morning after a full moon."

Kate chuckled as she printed out the mug shot and arrest records.

3:00pm, Ministry of Magic

After two straight hours of watching his Cabinet Officers bicker and posture, Rufus Scrimgeour decided that enough was enough.

"That's it," he declared. "I'll take all of the recommendations on revisions to the organizational charts under advisement."

"But, Minister…."

"But nothing, Madame Umbridge, I've had enough of the blame game. You will return all of the Aurors and Hit Wizards that you borrowed Saturday night to Oswald's Department.

The former High Inquisitor narrowed her eyes, but gave an affirmatory nod. "And about the muggle's threat to break wands?"

The Minister of Magic stared at the toadish woman, then reached a decision. "We allow it for now."

"But Minister."

"But nothing, Dolores. We aren't in a position to fight the muggles on this so soon after they lost a few hundred of their own to magical attacks…at least not until we understand the Death Eater's new tactics better. Work with the newspapers to get the word out to the public...we'll revisit this later on in the week."

"Yes, Minister."

"Weasley!"

"Yes, Minister Scrimgeour?"

"You will provide me with options that will ensure that the floo network does not go pear-shaped, at least for prioritized use by Ministry officials."

"Yes, Minister Scrimgeour."

"And Oswald, you will keep the Head Auror on a short leash, and immediately post a Portus-authorized Auror team within Magical Surveillance."

"Yes, Minister."

"Speaking of Magical Surveillance, Hopkirk…you will make arrangements for this Auror team to be immediately notified whenever a Portus spell is detected."

The MSO Director nodded her head. "I'll make it so, Minister Scrimgeour."

"It goes without saying that your muggle surveillance team will inform us if the secrecy situation deteriorates any further."

"Yes, Minister."

"Let's see," said Scrimgeour, "who's left?"

"The Department of Mysteries?" asked its Director.

"Ah, yes…is your Department in position to help the others with these tasks?"

"Not really, Minister."

"Well, the continue to do whatever it is that you folks do down there."

The Head Unspeakable smiled. "As you wish, Minister Scrimgeour."

There was a few moments of silence, as everyone waited for the next decision from the Minister. Rufus finally asked, "Are there any other issues not related to org charts that need to be discussed this afternoon?"

Percy let out a small sigh and said, "Minister Scrimgeour, we need to decide what to do about the muggle Prime Minister's notice…the three day grace period ends tonight."

Umbridge frowned. "Why didn't you dispose of the issue like we did the last time?"

"That avenue is no longer available," Percy replied. "As I noted in my memos, our ICW branch office was officially disbanded when the new Chief Mugwump was sworn in last week in Kyoto."

The Department of Mysteries Director frowned. "I'm sorry, but is this something that we should have known about?"

"You didn't know that the new Chief Mugwump was Japanese?"

"No, I knew that," the Unspeakable replied. "I was asking about the muggle Prime Minister's note."

Minister Scrimgeour looked at the Unspeakable, then turned towards Percy and nodded.

"Last Friday, at a Cabinet meeting that you failed to attend, I reported that Lucius Malfoy allegedly tried to rob a muggle bank. According to existing treaty obligations, the Ministry is required to send notice of this attempt to the International Confederation of Wizards."

The Unspeakable nodded. "And how is the muggle Prime Minister involved?"

"The muggle Prime Minister sent an official notification of this alleged attempt by owl last Friday afternoon."

"By owl?" asked the Unspeakable.

Scrimgeour nodded. "More of Potter's handiwork, no doubt."

"So what's this about a last time?" asked Department of Mysteries Director.

Percy nervously looked towards his boss, and once again got a confirmatory nod.

"On the day after the attack on the Ministry," he noted, "there was a separate incident involving a muggle bank. The Ministry made the required notifications by hand delivering a notice to the Chief Mugwump's office down on the Fifth Level."

"You mean Dumbledore's old office?"

"Yes."

"But he'd been dead for some three weeks, right?"

Percy nodded. "Nevertheless, his office was still officially opened, as our certified date-stamped receipt proves."

The Unspeakable scowled. "You didn't want the ICW to know about the attempt, did you?"

"Whether we wished it or not, we complied with our obligations," Percy noted.

"I see," said the Unspeakable. "So what happened to that notification, then?"

Percy allowed himself to grin slightly. "We made arrangements for the former Chief Mugwump's office to be packed up and shipped off to Japan. Given all of the piles of parchment accumulated by Dumbledore over the years, one or two pieces of parchment may have been lost during this process."

The Unspeakable rolled his eyes. "Fine, so we dodged an Unforgivable that time…but now?"

"Now that the office is closed, we need to find an alternative approach," Percy replied.

"Why don't we simply do the required notification?" asked the Unspeakable.

"Because we don't need any of those foreign busybodies poking their noses into our business," Umbridge declared.

"What do you mean?"

"We're still on administrative probation from the Quidditch World Cup attack," Percy explained. "If we notify the ICW that a British wizard tried to rob a muggle bank, they'll bring in a full audit team to review our records and procedures."

"And that's a problem?" asked the Unspeakable.

Umbridge and Percy spoke in unison. "Yes!"

"Why?"

"The answer is kept on a need-to-know basis, I'm afraid," Scrimgeour replied wearily. "Suffice to say there were certain advantages to having a British wizard installed as Chief Mugwump."

The Unspeakable sighed, and rubbed his forehead with his fingers.

"So, what if we simply ignore the incident?"

Scrimgeour nodded. "That would be the best of a series of bad alternatives. It certainly has worked in the past."

"But the fact that the muggle Prime Minister sent some sort of official notification?"

"Exactly," spat out Umbridge. "That treasonous whelp and his mudblood whore are pinning us into a corner."

"So, if they know enough about treaty obligations to pen the parchment for the muggle Prime Minister, then they probably know enough to check whether we did the proper notification."

"Exactly," Percy replied.

"I wish I knew what games they're playing," the Minister said. He pursed his lips, and then said, "Percy, arrange an immediate meeting between Potter and myself…we need to get to the bottom of this."

"Erm, yes, Minister," Percy replied. "But how?"

"Use your goblin-loving brother," Umbridge spat out.

Percy shook his head in disgust. "Fine."

The Minister looked down at his watch. "Unless there's anything else, then…"

"Well, actually, there is," the Unspeakable replied.

Scrimgeour scowled. "Can it wait a day?"

The Department of Mysteries Director thought for a moment. "That would depend, Minister Scrimgeour."

"Depend on what?"

"On the status of one of your badges of office."

The Minister furrowed his eyebrows.

"Which one?"

"It's a large pearl, set on the end of a silver necklace, set within a mount trimmed with dragons."

The Minister frowned. "Percy?"

"I believe that you placed it within one of your lower desk drawers," his Special Assistant replied.

Scrimgeour was muttering to himself as he ducked down and began to rummage through his drawers. A few moments later, he pulled out the thick chain necklace.

"Is this what you're looking for?"

The Unspeakable nodded as he looked closely at the orb that dangled from the chain. He then drew his wand and cast a few diagnostic charms.

"So can it wait, or not?" demanded Umbridge.

The Unspeakable drew in a breath, exhaled, and then replied, "No, I am afraid that it can not."

4:00pm Smithfield Market, London

Secret Agent Remus Lupin walked out of the meat market with a fresh lead on their case and a desire for raw steak. In contrast, his partner was presently entertaining an upset stomach and thoughts of turning vegan.

Remus pointed down the street and said, "Stake and Ale's down that way, I think." Kate nodded and they made their way to the pub where two of the meat market's butchers had placed "Mother" Maggy Stevens as a barmaid.

"So," asked Kate along the way, "all of those burly men with excess body hair in there were,….erm…"

"Let's call them kin, given where we are," Remus replied. "And yes, I'd say there were a good fifty or so at least in there."

Kate shook her head. "It made sense when you explained it on the way over, but it really hit home when I saw all the blood and guts…"

"Yeah, makes you hungry, doesn't it?" Remus said with a grin. "It is a rather ideal job for the typical London werewolf…not just access to the raw meat, but to the tunnels as well."

The Chief Inspector nodded. Remus had told her that as London outgrew its walls in the Eighteenth Century cow paths were converted into city streets, and city dwellers within the neighborhoods that surrounded Smithfield Market began to object to having cattle driven to market under their noses. In response, the cattle drives were driven underground, within newly constructed tunnels that connected the market to the outer edges of the city. Years later, once cattle were trucked in on lorries, the tunnels were sealed off. Parts of the tunnel system were converted into underground storage, but much of the network was commandeered by the werewolf community, for use as a safe, anonymous area to run when full moons that shined aboveground.

When Kate and Remus entered the Stake and Ale, they encountered a scene quite similar to what Severus Snape found when he had visited three days earlier.

Kate took in the rough-and-tumble crowd, their blood-stained boots, and hairier than average faces and quietly asked, "Are we okay here, Remy?"

Remus took a careful look about the room, let his were-enhanced senses kick in, and nodded. "More than one pack, no Alphas, mixed company…should be safe."

"Should we talk directly to the publican?" Kate quietly asked.

Remus shook his head. "Let's just take a seat, and get a measure of the place."

Kate nodded, deferring to her partner's instincts in that situation. She made her way to a high table off to the side of the bar, where she and Remus made small talk while they waited in vain for a server to take their orders.

"I do believe that they're blowing us off, Remy," Kate noted.

Remus nodded. "Watch my back."

The lycanthrope walked up to the counter and tried to get the publican's attention. He was blatantly ignored by the barkeep, but not by a few of the patrons sitting alongside the rail.

"Oh look, it's a West End Wolfie," sneered one of the burly men, after taking in Remus's attire.

"Slumming a bit, ain't ya guv'nor?" quipped another.

Remus turned towards the two men and took their measure. They were both were-turned muggles, probably mid- to lower-pack, and ran together. Not wishing to make a scene, he ignored them.

"Bartender?" he called out.

"Hey Mike," one of the two men called in follow-up. "Make a run to the dairy…looks like we got ourselves another milk drinker."

Amidst the laughter, the man's buddy nodded towards Kate and said, "Nah, take a look-see, the bloke brought his own cow."

Remus turned towards the heckler and scowled as the wolf boiled up inside of him. His eyes dilated with fury as adrenaline pumped into his veins and a musky scent poured out of his sweat glands in an almost tangible cloud. He reached out, grabbed the lycan who had insulted his partner by the scruff of his neck, and bashed his face down onto the bar.

Bar stools scraped back and voices were raised as blood started to flow freely from a cut over the now-woozy heckler's right eye. Several of the pub patrons made a move towards Remus only to stop dead in their tracks.

Chief Inspector Miller was about to draw her badge and her gun to control the situation when she suddenly realized that her partner had, in his own way, somehow taken charge. All eyes were now drawn to Remus stern gaze, and all noses now drawn to his scent. After a few tense seconds, a murmur of voices was heard as the patrons all cast their eyes down towards the floor and backed away.

The original heckler grabbed his pint glass in one hand and his mate's shoulder with the other. "Sorry, Guv'nor," he said to Remus, as he pulled his bleeding mate away. "Just havin' a bit o' fun. Didn't mean to offend."

Remus nodded in response, as he let out a deep exhale.

The publican was suddenly more than hospitable. While he wasn't a werewolf, enough of his patrons and staff were for him to recognize pack behavior.

"This here's neutral ground, Guv'nor," he said apologetically. "Nobody's looking for a fight."

Remus nodded. "My apologies…I don't take kindly to having my partner insulted."

The publican nodded. "So would you and your bird care for a drink on the house?"

"He said partner, not bird," Kate announced, as she joined Remus at the bard. She flashed her badge and added, "As in 'my partner, 'Metropolitan Police Chief Inspector Kathryn Miller'."

A sharp silence followed this announcement, before the pub's chairs and bar stools again scraped against the wooden floor, and the pub's patrons suddenly all had better places to be.

"Well that was subtle," Remus snarked, as the room cleared out.

"No more than the bloody nose," Kate replied.

"Actually, that was a rather normal form of communication for this crowd," the pub owner said warily. He then added, "So, what can I do for you, Chief Inspector?"

Kate looked at Remus, who shook his head in frustration, and pulled a photograph from his coat pocket. He placed it on the bar and asked, "Do you know this woman?"

The publican looked down, and replied, "She looks…vaguely familiar."

"We have good reason to believe that she was employed here," Remus growled.

"You must be mistaken, Guv'nor…I don't have anyone looking like that on my payroll."

Remus rolled his eyes and leaned forward. "But that doesn't mean she wasn't working for you on the sly, does it?"

Chief Inspector Miller's eyes narrowed as she reached into her pocket for a business card. She slid the card across the table towards the bar man and said, "We're not here to close down your business for hiring undocumented workers, or to get you in trouble with your customers. We do, however, need to find out where this woman lived and who here friends are. You help us with that, and the rest will go away."

The publican looked at the card, then looked up at Remus.

"If you don't mind me asking, what in the bloody hell is going on?"

Lupin glanced over at Kate, who shrugged her shoulders.

"Your world, you're call, partner."

Remus snorted, then turned back towards the barman. "Just how hooked into the community are you?"

The barman glanced around his now-empty pub and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm guessing you know well enough that I'm not turned?" When Remus nodded, the publican continued. "This pub's been a favorite of the local meat packers since when my grandfather owned it. And since a few of those lot are, well…your kind…this pub's always been friendly to them."

"Friendly enough to hire one?" asked Kate.

The publican nodded towards the photograph. "What's Maggie gone and done now?"

Remus replied, "She led at least part of her pack on an attack Saturday night."

"Really?" asked the man. "Well, I wouldn't know anything about that."

"Didn't say that you did," replied Lupin. "How long has she been working here?"

"Off and on, six years," said the publican.

"You know where she lives?" asked Kate.

The publican looked nervously towards Remus. "What's a were doing cooperating with the Police?"

Remus snarled just a bit. "Trying to keep from seeing every police officer in the nation filling their guns with silver bullets next full moon."

This comment drew the barman's attention. "How bad?" he asked.

Remus shared another look with his partner, and with her agreement replied, "Ever hear of a bloke named Greyback?"

The barman nodded. "Aye, never seen him, but I've heard he's a right nasty bastard."

Nodding, Lupin said, "Well, he set his pack loose on Saturday…killed eight people, including seven….seven that are under the protection of the Metropolitan Police."

"So they killed a wizard as well?" asked the publican.

Taking the question as confirmation that the man knew something about the wizarding world, Remus nodded. "Did you know that your barmaid ran with Greyback?"

The publican shook his head. "Like I said, I try to stay out of their politics…much healthier for business that way."

Kate nodded. "We need to find her friends, and search where she lived."

"Lived?" asked the publican. "You mean she's…."

Remus nodded.

The barman's face turned pale.

"Maggie she….I knew she changed packs a year ago or so, but not which pack."

"Who did she used to run with?"

"Don't know pack names…I told you that I try to stay out of it."

"But did she have any friends here…people she might have run with before?"

The barman thought about the question carefully. "Can you keep my name out of this?"

The Chief Inspector replied, "Completely confidential…we recognize your situation."

The publican reached a decision and nodded. "There's a couple of blokes…names are Johnnie Hancock and Ben Pinckney. They're regulars, come in right after morning shift over at the market…they might know where she lived."

Kate smiled. "There, now…that wasn't too bad, was it?"

The barman snorted loudly as he glanced towards Remus. "Yeah, not bit yet."

"We'll do our best to keep your involvement quiet," the Chief Inspector replied.

As Kate and Remus turned to leave, the barman asked, "So the government, it knows about…everything?"

Remus glanced back towards the bar and nodded.

"At least the muggle government does."

Once the two left the pub, Kate said, "You do know that you violated a half-dozen police regulations in there, don't you?"

Remush shrugged his shoulders. "Good thing I'm not a muggle policeman, then."

Kate shook her head in frustration. "Mind explaining why they all backed off once you bashed that bloke's face?"

Remus smiled. "Guess I unconsciously established dominance,"

"Thought you said you weren't affiliated with a pack."

"I'm not."

"Oh, so you just naturally radiate a bad-arse Alpha aura?" quipped Kate.

Remus nodded. "In a way, yes."

4:50pm, Ministry of Magic

As Percy Weasley made his way towards the Goblin Liaison Office, he was too worried about what the Head Unspeakable had revealed about the Treaty of Carlisle and the upcoming meeting to care that he needed to ask his younger misguided brother a favor.

"Come in," Ron called out, when his brother knocked on the door.

Percy walked into the office.

"The Minister needs to speak with Harry immediately," he declared.

Ron looked at his older brother and snorted. "What do I look like, an owl?"

Percy scowled. "He needs to speak with Potter straight away…don't tell me you can't get in contact with him."

"Okay, so I won't," Ron quipped. "Still think it'd be faster to owl."

"Yes, well…" Percy reached into his pocket and withdrew an envelope. "It's all explained in this letter…there's also a two-way portkey for his use."

Ron shook his head dismissively. "After all of the tripe you've shoveled his way, why should he do you any favors? Why should he trust you?"

"Because he's still a wizard, and still a part of our world," Percy snapped back.

"Funny, you claimed that he wasn't in the papers."

"I did not."

"Really?" asked Ron. "I could have sworn that the 'Anonymous senior Ministry official" was you….sounded like you talking out of your arse, at least."

Percy, in a rather angry tone of voice, said, "Just get this letter to him."

"Sorry, brother, but you'll have to make arrangements with my supervisor."

"What are you on about?"

"What I'm 'on about' are the rules and regulations, dear brother," Ron said with a grin. "Courier duty is not part of my official job description, and any assigned task that deviates from my official duties must be approved in advance by both my supervisor and Department Head."

"But…"

"Surely you aren't asking me to go against the regulations that you yourself helped draft?"

Percy started to say something, then thought better of it. "Fine, who is the acting Department Head this week?"

"Lisa Turpin, I believe."

Just as Percy began to storm out of the office a loud "gong" was heard.

"Yes!" Ron exclaimed, as he began to pack his bag.

"Where are you going?" Percy demanded.

"Five o'clock is official quitting time for all Ministry Interns," Ron replied. "Unless you want to force me to work more than the normal eight hours."

"Fine, so I'll authorize…"

"Of course, then you'd be violating the work hour limitations established by the educational internship program guidelines…which would mean that you'd have to hire me on as a full time Ministry Employee, with back pay, and forward pay, and…oh yes, with full exemption from the underage magic laws."

Percy stared at his brother with an open mouth and shocked expression.

Ron smiled as he walked out from behind his desk, and patted his brother on the shoulder. With a wide smile, he pronounced, "He who lives by bureaucratic dragon dung, dies by bureaucratic dragon dung."

"I'll have you know that I'm a Senior Advisor, Ronald."

Ron nodded. "Yes…a Senior Advisor that better be making a trip to the owlry, from the looks of it."

And with a whistled rendition of "Weasley is Our King," Ron made his way towards the outbound floo.