Disclaimer : I don't own Harry Potter but like most of you, I have fallen in love with it. All thanks to JK Rowling and the wonderful world she created.
Chapter 8. The Escape
Hermione's vine wood with dragon-string core wand was in the Evidence Locker in the Auror Office on Level 2 of the Ministry of Magic. All sorts of charms and enchantments guarded the Evidence Locker, and the only way to get evidence from it was for the item to go through the release counter and have the Locker Guard sign it out, willingly.
"Slow day, again, Jonas?" a long nosed witched said over to the Locker Guard, as she passed.
"Slow as a watching Muggles boil a cauldron of water," he remarked.
Jonas Defter was a heavy-set middle-aged wizard with a goatee, whose goal was to retire as soon as he possibly could. His shift was over in 10 minutes and his wife was a nasty witch who kept him on a strict clock, a result of a young wizard's transgression. Every few seconds, he looked at the official Ministry time-teller on ceiling.
Since Voldemort's defeat, Dark Wizardry seemed to have tanked as a career option. Not too many Dark Wizards around anymore and not too many to catch. The items he had in the locker were mostly from unresolved murders and crimes from long ago. As a result, there was no need for the Locker to be accessible 24 hours a day. His shift had been cut in half and his wife was nastier than usual these days.
He looked at the time-teller again and started packing up for the day. If he was lucky he could slip out five minutes early and maybe have time to place a bet on the Quidditch game tonight.
The bell at the counter rang. It rang again, and again.
"Hold your thestrals, I'm coming!"
Jonas yelled from behind the stack of logbooks on his desk. He wondered who could it be, they seemed in a hurry or very impatient.
"Oh, you..." Jonas recognized the rookie Auror, Flint, who had managed to annoy everyone in the department during his first 3 days at the Ministry. He was sorely lacking in team and people skills were and he seemed not to grasp that despite several admonitions from superiors, "What do you want?"
"Important case, I just got assigned to it. They're relying on me to bust it wide open." Flint handed him an official looking document.
"You want the fifty-six wands confiscated from the Ghoul Murders fifteen years ago?"
"Yes sir!" Flint said enthusiastically.
"Tonight, eight minutes before closing."
"I was told to start cracking at it tonight. Harry Potter himself failed to do much with it. Don't want to disappoint the Ministry, they're counting on me…"
"I know, I know, to bust it wide open."
Jonas sighed, putting his had up to signal a stop to this senseless chitchat. He was as good as dead tonight. He was definitely not going to be able to get home on time. He went to the back behind the dusty shelves and came out with a large box marked "Ghoul Murders". He opened the evidence dispensary counter and started magically signing the wands out, one at a time.
Flint interrupted him, "Can you not just sign out the entire lot at once?"
Jonas looked up and gave him a scathing look, "I could, if I wanted to see you frozen and zapped by ten stunners at once. Come to think of it, I haven't seen that happen in a long time."
"No, no we should do it the proper way. The culprits must not get off on a technicality," Jonas was thankful Flint finally was silent, until Flint started pacing to and fro.
About halfway through the lot, a slim, tall, unshaven man in his thirties appeared beside Flint. He was in Muggle clothes and appeared very lost.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for Jonas Defter," he said, his thick prescription lenses distorting the appearance of his grey eyes.
"You found him. What can I do for you?" Jonas was talking to him while signing off more Ghoul wands.
The man flipped his wallet open and flashed a badge. "Skip Ghepp, Crime Lab Scotland Yard."
"Good grief, Muggle Law Enforcement! Uh, I mean, what brings you to our warehouse?"
It was standard first line cover in case of Muggle discovery. He was ready to signal an alarm in case the Muggle started to become suspicious, that would quickly bring in an Obliviator Squad.
"Relax mate, I'm a Squib. Just here to dot the I's and cross the T's," he showed him a piece of paper.
Jonas stopped what he was doing and perused the document before him amid protest from Flint.
"Hmmm, hmmm, the Granger Affair, you need the wand, it says, to do some measurements," he looked at the man and awaited a response.
"My lab was asked to fingerprint and detect DNA from it, some Muggle screwed up and forgot to write down a description of the 'piece of wood'." Ghepp motioned quotes with his fingers as he said the last phrase.
Jonas looked at him, pondering how much more time this was going to take. He then shoved the piece of paper toward Ghepp.
"Can't really help you, your paperwork is Muggle. I need an official Ministry form signed by an appropriate wizard."
"Fine by me. Got to go home anyway. The wife gets upset when I'm late for dinner. Don't really care about the Muggle Protection Activist Group poking around to get her off on a technicality though I heard the Minister himself was pretty upset and would prefer it to be corrected tonight. The Muggle is being transferred to Azkaban tomorrow and the last thing he needs is for the Muggle Protection Activist Group finding out about two missing measurements."
"Hold on!" Jonas grabbed his coat. "Well, if it's only two measurements, do you need to take it out?"
"No, I was actually hoping I could just borrow it for two seconds, measure it right in front of you, write them down and give them back."
"Well, let's do that then. Minister's got enough problems as it is. Every little bit helps. Let me get it."
Jonas left, thinking how appreciative the Minister was going to be. Perhaps, he could even get a raise, or a promotion! Ghepp took out a Muggle measuring tape and scribbled 'length' and 'circumference' on a note pad as Jonas signed Hermione's wand out.
Just as Jonas handed this to Ghepp, a young wizard appeared out of nowhere with an armful of wands, stacked up so high he could not see where he was going. In an instant, he collided with Flint who tried to back off but in the process dropped all thirty-eight wands he was holding. A loud crash ensued and Jonas screamed quite a few swear words on his way outside the dispensary counter and started trying to sort out the mess of wands on the floor.
"What! What is this? More wands!" Jonas was glowering at the new arrival, who was beyond nervous that he looked like he was going to wet himself.
"I… I'm so sorry, Mr Defter, sir. I didn't mean to, fell over, tripped…couldn't see?"
"What are you doing here, Scott? What is all of this?"
"Mr. Shackelbolt, sir, he wants the wands safe in the locker tonight, can't risk losing them, told me to rush because you were closing. So sorry, Mr, Defter, sir."
Jonas looked at the assortment of wands strewn all over the floor, his entire body shaking with anger and a definite cry of frustration.
"I think all the wands are mixed up," Flint stated the obvious, "How do we separate them?"
Jonas felt his nagging wife right behind him. He could not lose this job.
"I have ways of knowing, stand aside!" He conjured two boxes with the flick of a wand, closed his eyes, and started flicking his wand to and fro. The wands from the floor separated and neatly arranged themselves into the two boxes. "There. Now, Scott, step aside while I finish with Flint. Mr. Ghepp, how are we doing?"
Ghepp had just measured the length of the wand and scribbled something on his pad.
"All done. Thank you," he said as he handed the wand back to Jonas, who promptly signed it in again. Ghepp walked away and overheard Flint saying, "Mr. Defter, I swear I had more than 30 wands in my hand…"
Two hours later, there was a commotion at St. Mungo's. Rita Skeeter, the Daily Prophet's star reporter had just waltzed in with her personal photographer. Head Unspeakable Gomez met her and he led her and her crew of one down to the detention area.
"So nice of you to agree to an interview, Mr. Gomez," Rita Skeeter buzzed in his ear making Gomez blush slightly.
"Part of the job, Ms. Skeeter. We have to show everyone that justice will always prevail. Ms. Granger is somewhat of a celebrity having stood by Harry Potter countless times, we cannot allow her special treatment because of this."
Gomez had his chest puffed out and was attempting to make himself taller beside Rita Skeeter, as their picture was taken, without much success. As he led them into one of the smaller rooms, he was stopped by Rita Skeeter.
"Wait, Mr. Gomez, I know the perfect back-drop for the interview," then she paused, "No, but it is such a silly idea, we can't possibly do that, no."
"What is it?"
"Forget it, it seems foolish now."
He interrupted, "No, try me."
"It would look great, I think, yes, definitely! Granger, behind you as we're doing the interview, and her behind you on the front page of the Prophet with the headline, 'Head of Department Gomez, No Nonsense Unspeakable!'"
She motioned with her hand and out of thin air appeared the words in neon pink just as she said it. He looked at the words until they disappeared in a puff of smoke. Without hesitation, he agreed and led them to the interrogation room. He waved his wand and the blinds uncovered the window looking into the room where Hermione was.
The interview ensued, the photographer was snapping pictures frequently and often and Rita Skeeter's infamous quick quill notes was scribbling furiously.
Head Unspeakable Gomez, height-challenged, undernourished, fashion-conscious, Minister of Magic lap dog, Unspeakable number two wizard no more…
Finally it was over.
"Thank you again, Mr. Gomez, we'll see you tomorrow," she paused for effect, "On the front page of the news!"
Gomez beamed and laughed with her as he closed the blinds and they walked out of the room.
"Wait!" the photographer interjected, just as the Gomez was about to magically seal the door to the interrogation room, "I left the film in there."
Rita Skeeter rolled her eyes and whispered to Gomez as the boy went back in by himself to retrieve the films, "Not too bright but he's so handsome I can't let him go, " she winked as he came back from the room with his bag.
On their way out of St. Mungo's Rita Skeeter addressed her handsome young photographer in a low voice, "If the bitch pulls this off alive, make sure you tell her we're definitely even."
It was 9pm.
At 11pm, the holding cell in St Mungo's was totally empty except for a few unconscious Aurors.