Unforeseen Trials (Completed)

He sat in restless meditation in his room, waiting for his alarm to tell him it was safe to proceed.

' 2:00' His watch read.

' 30 more minutes.' He told himself, more than a little anxious.

He had been planning for this moment for weeks.

' Desperate hazel eyes met him as she clung to his robes, blood seeping from her pores.'

Draco tried to shake the memory from his mind as he attempted to meditate, to no avail.

He had long since stopped asking his father for the truth about that night, he may not be a legilimens but he knew when his own father was lying to him, if he wasn't going to give him answers, Draco would have to find them on his own.

" Daphne thinks it was us."

" It wasn't." He had said with finality.

" Sir." He pleaded. "If you know something, please tell me."

He hadn't.

Astoria deserved better.

Draco was on his feet the second the alarm sounded, wand in hand as he made his way from his room down the long hallway separating his wing of the mansion from the main area of the home, hanging a left at a stationary portrait, past the ballroom and to the concealed staircase behind a shelf of books in the main atrium.

Tapping the right book combination revealed a narrow staircase.

Lighting his wand, Draco took the stairs downwards, towards his father's study.

For all his public caution, his father had a tendency to let his guard down while at home, where he barely concealed his movements.

He had become predictable.

Still, leaving for a meeting with the Dark Lord on Wednesdays at 2 in the morning was a bit odd.

Confidently crossing into the study, Draco let his eyes wander around the impeccable room - uncertain of exactly what he was searching for.

Making his way passed the shelves lined with trinkets and various photos and towards the large oak desk he was quick to cast a diagnostics charm in case his father had felt the need for security.

Unsurprised by the lack of security, Draco began thumbing through the drawers on the off-chance that his father had left something of value in plain sight.

Finding nothing, he turned back to the desk itself - his father having commissioned it before he was born.

It had been a Goyle creation, and the man was sure to understand his fathers need for discretion.

Getting on his hands and knees, Draco ran his hands over every inch of the desk, searching for some lever to something that would give him answers.

Sighing in frustration, he sat down in the comfortable desk chair.

' Maybe there's nothing here?'

Did his father have a secret study he didn't know about?

That didn't make sense, this was well-hidden enough.

' Goyle also made the chair.' He remembered.

Refocusing his efforts, Draco stood up to examine the chair, again running his hands over every inch, smiling when he felt how loose the front left leg appeared to be.

Following his instincts, Draco pulled the leg off of the chair and grinned.

Inside the hollowed out leg were several pieces of worn parchment.

' Record of Death'

He let his eyes read over the ministry's official report of his grandfather's death, curious as to why his father would have kept it hidden.

Turning his attention to the second group of parchment, Draco was greeted with his father's familiar cursive attached to a hierarchy with a single name at the top.

'Bellatrix Lestrange.'

' Why is father investigating Aunt Bellatrix?'

Greedily he dug in, his eyes widening as he read.

' No record of importation by either the ministry or the dark lord… Octavius denies signing off on the importation of a dragon's lung.'

He continued to read in silence, his original mission all but forgotten.

' Aunt Bellatrix killed Lord Malfoy.' Was the conclusion his father had appeared to reach.

"You mustn't tell your mother."

A familiar, quiet voice said from the doorway.

"Sir!" Draco replied, embarrassed at having been caught snooping.

His father seemed torn between exhaustion and anger before his face appeared to droop, the exhaustion having won out.

It was jarring; Lord Malfoy was Lord Malfoy, even at home.

"What happened?" He said, quietly making his way over to his father.

Lucius eyed him for a long moment before motioning for him to sit.

Reaching inside his desk, his father removed two glasses and a dusty bottle of firewhisky.

"Don't tell your mother about this conversation either." His father added, handing him a half-full glass of amber.

"Potter and Greengrass attacked a Death Eater meeting tonight."

He nearly spit out his firewhisky.

"What happened?" He asked.

' How could Potter and Greengrass get the drop on the Dark Lord?'

"They followed an associate, and killed a dozen men and women." His father said in disgust.

There was clearly more to the story, but he knew not to push.

"Are they dead?"

He honestly didn't care about Potter, but Daphne was Astoria's sister, and Astoria had loved her.

His father shook his head. "No. But they caught the dark lord's attention."

He took another small sip of whisky, accepting his father's answer. He had come to realize how dangerous his two classmates were.

"He came?"

Lucius smiled for the first time. "He killed Dumbledore."

' He killed Dumbledore?'

Draco didn't know what to say so he said nothing as they drank in silence for several minutes.

"Sir?"

His father gave him an inquisitive look.

"Who killed the Greengrass family?"

His father gave him a long look before finishing the rest of his whisky and pouring himself another.

"Your new Headmistress."

Having received her orders, Bellatrix disappeared from the room with a soft *pop* landing softly in a moonlight field just outside of where she knew Greengrass Estate was located.

Finding the unassuming limestone that marked the property's ward line, Bellatrix removed the schematics she had received from Yaxley, and began following Septima's handwritten instructions on how to bypass the wards that protected the sprawling estate.

It had been years since she had passed through the wards protecting the picturesque scenery of Greengrass estate, and even though it was dark she could see the rolling hills that led up to the quaint familial manor.

Apparating to the back patio, Bellatrix eyed the quit home with suspicion, having never been able to completely trust the quiet calm of an empty home.

" You have talent, child…"

She shook the phantom voice from her mind and pushed her way into the familiar home, pausing in dismay when she saw the old training room had been turned into a dining room.

She shifted her weight on to her bended knee, panting heavily in pain and exhaustion.

" You must be relentless in your attacks, Bellatrix!" The old bitch prodded, sending a stinging curse at her prone form.

" The fight isn't over until your enemy is dead!"

Determined violet eyes met that of her mentors.

" Yes Ophelia!"

Bellatrix made her way to the library, pausing at a vase of roses just outside the miniscule room to prick her finger on a thorn.

The vase glowed, allowing Bellatrix safe passage into the room.

Once inside she ignored the books and headed towards where she knew the pensieve would be, hoping she wasn't too late.

It would be no good for anyone if those memories fell into the wrong hands.

She was only slightly surprised to be greeted by an empty shelf. The mission had been a longshot based on hope.

" Hopes not a strategy."

She growled, even in death the old bitch wouldn't leave her alone.

Emotion didn't register on her face as she stalked away out of the house and back to the property line, pausing just outside the wards at the unassuming limestone.

Interweaving a simple monitoring ward on the property, Bellatrix silently disappeared.

He nearly fell to the ground as he and Greengrass arrived in the small cottage in the middle of the North Sea.

Lifting himself up, Bill gave her an once-over with a frown, recognizing the symptoms of severe curse damage immediately.

"Dearborn!" He yelled, hoping that the healer had arrived while he and Dumbledore had been away.

A sleepy man in his late fifties made his presence known with a yawn, springing into action the second he saw the shape of the girl.

"What happened?" He asked Greengrass in alarm as he began casting a slew of diagnostics.

"I was hit with the cruciatus curse for maybe six seconds." Her voice was calm even as the torchlight exposed a spider's web of burst blood vessels covering her now exposed torso.

"What the hell were you two even doing there?" He raged, rounding on the girl.

' Do they realize how much work they've undone?'

Greengrass didn't cower, raising an eyebrow in annoyance and stroking the flames of his rage even further.

"We saw Dolohov enter that pub with a naked Padma Patil." She said softly. "What would you have us do?"

Her explanation was rational, even if her resulting actions weren't; it's exactly what he would have done in such a situation.

He wasn't buying her faux concern.

"Don't feed me that bullshit!" He roared. "You don't care about the girl!"

As far as he could tell the only person Daphne Greengrass truly cared about was Potter, she was apathetic - at best - towards everyone else.

Greengrass sat still for several seconds before responding with a shrug.

"No. I don't." She started as the healer shoved several vials into her hands. "Truth be told I find her and her sister to be gossipy little cunts, but she doesn't deserve the fate she's going to get."

Her curt response caused him to take pause - is this really who Dumbledore wanted in the Order? Violent sociopaths who had little regard for the damage being done to their society by Voldemort?

"Where is she?"

For the first time a flash of emotion came across the girls damaged face; "I don't know. We were ambushed the second we arrived and all hell broke loose."

Her answer was cut off by the arrival of an unconscious body missing an arm sporting a rotting torso.

Across from him Greengrass covered her mouth in horror at the arrival of her boyfriend, who was followed a half a second later by an uninjured Remus Lupin.

"Holy shit." Dearborn deadpanned before turning to Greengrass. "You'll have to wait."

Greengrass nodded her head dumbly, the first trace of genuine emotion he had seen from the girl since they had arrived.

"Where's Dumbledore?" He asked the werewolf whose focus was taken by Potter.

"Sorry?" He responded, turning towards him slightly.

Feeling his temper rise once more, Bill took several calming breaths.

"Where's Albus?"

Remus turned back towards him, seemingly unconcerned. "He was buying us some time, he'll be here in a few minutes."

Nodding in acknowledgement, Bill made his way towards the comfortable leather chair in the corner, letting his body sink into the squishy leather, he felt his eyes begin to droop.

" It will take a few days, but you should regain full mobility." Dearborn's voice woke him with a start.

The rising sun lit the room, revealing a now sitting up Potter with a new arm.

"What about this?" Potter's weak voice tapered off as he motioned towards his torso.

"You'll carry the scars for the rest of your life, but you'll make a full recovery."

"Thank Merlin!" Greengrass's relieved voice rang out.

Tuning out Potter's medical report he turned towards Remus.

"Where's Albus?"

The older werewolf frowned.

"I don't know. He still hasn't returned." The lack of communication was unlike Albus and Bill felt himself fearing for the worst.

' This is Potters fault.'

If Potter had bothered to show up to the meetings he demanded he be allowed to attend, he would have known better.

"Do you know what you've done?" He spat towards the boy, drawing the attention of the room.

Potter eyed him with a cocky smile.

"Crippled Voldemort's forces and more-than-likely killed a member of his inner-circle."

' Arrogant shit.'

"You attacked a bar we had been monitoring for months!"

"My classmate was in danger." Potter countered.

"You should've got us!" If Potter had come to them, then they could have made it work.

"They would have been long gone by then!"

Potter was right and he knew it. But that didn't mean it was worth it.

"Patil is already gone." Bill stated. "You failed and now Dumbledore is missing, that's on you. And if it turns out he's dead, well that's on you too."

Potters mood sank. "You cannot put that on me."

"Really? I can't?" He replied sarcastically. "You mean even if you hadn't supported your girlfriends little revenge tour Dumbledore would have still sought out a duel with the dark lord and he would still would be missing?"

Potter didn't respond, choosing to glare instead.

"You two are out of the Order." He stated matter-of-factly. Dumbledore be damned, the children were too impulsive to be trusted.

Potter shrugged, not seeming to care either way.

"Fine. Get off my property."

He hadn't considered that - they were using property Potter had inherited from Sirius.

' Would he really be that petty? He's got plenty of property.' Property they needed. Property where Order members could flee to in safety.

"No." He replied. "This place is too important. You have plenty of places to live. People need this place."

A flash of anger came across Potter's face.

"Why would I live in this shithole?" He spat. "This is probably the least hospitable of the properties I own, that's hardly the point. This is private property, you are only here because I let you be here. Leave."

"We need it more than you." He shot back. "You can have it back after the war."

In a flash Greengrass had her wand out and trained on him.

"Get out or I'll force you out." She snarled, her wand pointed firmly between his eyes.

He fought the urge to laugh at the child as he prepared to retort.

Calmly Remus put himself between the two. "Bill I think it would be best if you left." The werewolf said. "We can have this conversation after we've all calmed down."

He snarled at the three before turning on his heel and heading for the door.

"If something happened to Dumbledore, it's on the two of you." He repeated boldly over his shoulder before apparating away.

"Good morning, Penelope."

Corban's nervous voice cracked slightly, causing her to smile softly at the unassuming man.

"Good morning Corban, where are you headed today?" Penelope asked, quill ready to record the comings and goings of the restricted section of the ministry the elevators behind her led to, her mind drifting off as she did so.

She remembered what Patricia had said about the man after he had swung by the reception desk last week.

" Corban Yaxley is good friends with Septima Vector!"

That piece of information had grabbed the attention of the former Ravenclaw Prefect, Professor Vector had always been her favorite.

"Floor six." He sputtered quickly. "Financial records, please." Corban finished with a nervous smile.

' Records again?'

She yearned to understand what he found so fascinating that Yaxley had to continually spend his free time searching through ministry records.

"Happy birthday, by the way." He rushed out. "I know I'm a few days late, but I'd heard it was recently your birthday."

She offered him a pretty smile - she had turned nineteen last week, the night she had spent out with friends had been more than worth the hungover morning she had spent at work.

"Thank you, Corban." She said graciously.

"Maybe I could buy you a drink tonight to celebrate?" He followed up, his voice full of hope.

Internally she cringed but externally she gave him an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry Corban, I'm seeing someone."

' At least sometimes I am. Depends on the night, really.' Either way, a date with the boring pureblood didn't interest her.

A brief sneer flashed across Corbans features, exposing a side of himself Penelope hadn't seen, leaving her mildly unsettled before settling back into its normal configuration.

"I had to ask." He said with a fake laugh. "Have a great day, Penelope." He said, stalking off.

Penelope sat in thought for several long moments before removing the journal given to her by Fred.

Opening it up she dipped her quill in her inkpot before composing her message.

There was a limitless amount of information on the sixth floor, a Yaxley visiting that department a half-dozen times in three months was bound to be worth something to the twins.

' And whoever they're working for.' She added silently, not convinced that they were spending money on information of their own volition.

That mystery had kept her mind occupied. Who was she really reporting to? Dumbledore? The Ministry? The International Confederation of Wizards?

' We need to talk.' She wrote.

Penelope didn't have to wait long before Fred's untidy scrawl appeared in response.

' Gelded Griffin, 18:00.'

Smiling devilishly at the unspoken promise of free drinks.

' More money for the weekend.'

Penelope put the journal back in her bag before turning her attention back to that morning's copy of the 'Daily Prophet' a content smile resting on her face.

She arrived at Harry's London home at precisely 11 am as requested and was greeted by a friendly face.

"Andromeda!" She said greeting her former year mate with a hug. "It's good to see you again."

"It's great to see you as well, Minister." The brunette said with a coy smirk.

Amelia felt her cheeks color lightly. "Please, Andi. Never refer to me as Minister when I'm not on official business."

Andi raised a single eyebrow. "You're not here on official business?"

She frowned. Officially visiting with two representatives representing three votes in the Wizengamot would be front page news and confirm what the public already believes about what happened in that Scottish valley.

"I only wish to talk to the two of them, nothing more."

As a barrister Andromeda Tonks was more than capable, it was best to be honest to her old friend.

Andi stared at her for several long moments.

"Nymphadora!" She called out.

Half a minute later an athletic woman with bubblegum pink hair and full lips joined the two of them in the atrium.

Despite her best efforts, Britain's foremost duelist retained the bone structure and eyes of her mother.

"Please make sure Minister Bones remains comfortable while I go talk to my clients."

Andi's tone conveyed her message as the woman's daughter eyed her with suspicion while her mother went to talk to Harry and Greengrass.

The two stared at each other awkwardly for several long moments before Amelia broke the silence.

"With the return of Voldemort the ministry could use your talents."

While Minister DuPont had kindly sent three hundred French aurors to supplement their forces, another capable wand would be more than welcome, and having Britain's best duelist fighting for them would be a public relations victory.

A dumbstruck look came across the young woman's face before an amused smirk settled in.

"Work for the ministry?" The thought looked as though it was a great source of amusement for the younger woman.

"As tempting as it is to work all those hours for eight thousand galleons a year." She said as though seriously considering her proposal. "I think I'll continue my fruitful dueling career while moonlighting as a tutor to the young and wealthy, thank you very much."

' Was that necessary?'

"A simple 'no' would have sufficed." She replied curtly.

At that moment her old friend returned and, much to her relief, dispatched of her rather rude daughter.

"You will speak to them together, I will be present the entire time, and only I will maintain a recording of the questioning, is that understood?"

She frowned at the restrictions but readily agreed - it wasn't as though she had much leverage; although rumors had circled about their involvement there was no proof that they were actually there.

Harry looked as though he was in pain while the tremors in Daphne Greengrass's hands all but confirmed the rumors as the two teenagers sat stoically across from her in the glum homes study.

She had arrived hoping to dispel of the disturbing rumors surrounding the pair, but sitting before them she knew that they were all likely to be true.

The realization put her in a tough position. She couldn't have vigilante's taking justice into their own hand; not Dumbledore's little group and especially not two fifteen year olds.

Yet they were only fifteen, what was she going to do, send them to Azkaban? Not only would it be nearly impossible, but something told her that the likelihood of them voluntarily turning themselves in was next to none.

"I want to start off by saying that this isn't an investigation into the two of you, and whether or not the two of you were involved in the incident the other night in any way cannot be proven one way or the other."

Greengrass seemed to be more politically astute than Harry, if the recognition in her eyes was anything to go off of.

"If it cannot but proven, then why are you here?" The girl responded.

"There have been no witnesses or leads in the case. Just the Dark Mark and a burning valley in Scotland. Rumors are nice, but facts are better."

Daphne nodded before giving Andi a certain look.

"Nothing you gather here is admissible in court, Amelia. That includes memories." Andi reminded her softly.

Seeing that she was going to get more than she had hoped for she nodded her head politely in recognition. "Of course."

Harry reached into his robe, setting a crystal vial with a milky white substance floating in it down on the table in front of them without saying a word.

She frowned at his silence but accepted the memory nonetheless.

"Mrs. Tonks will see you out." Greengrass said softly as she helped a grimacing Harry Potter to his feet. "Thank you for your visit, Minister."

She gave him a little wave as he walked passed, returning from yet another trip to the sixth floor - this time to 'Ancestral Records.'

Corban either didn't see her gesture, or was still ignoring her since she had rejected his advances the other day.

Either way Penelope didn't care. He had stroked her curiosity, leaving her desperate to untangle the mystery behind what he was up to.

' Maybe I should have took him up on that drink after all?' He looked lonely, and probably would have told her anything.

She scolded herself at the wasted opportunity, standing up gracefully as Yaxley rounded the corner.

"Patricia I'm going to take a quick break." She quipped

"Again?" The older woman groaned.

"Just for a few minutes, I'll buy the drinks tonight, kay?"

The older woman nodded in acceptance and turned back to her puzzle, uninterested in whatever Penelope was up to.

She played with a loose strand of brown hair while she waited for the lift, eager to get to the bottom of her little mystery.

A short ride and a few smiles later found Penelope wading through old signature reads, searching for the signature of Yaxley.

Each room on the sixth floor recorded a person's magical signature upon entering and exiting; while nobody ever checked these records unless necessary, it had proven to be an effective mode of security.

' What the hell?' She thought, pausing as she came across his name in the day's records.

Corban hadn't been anywhere near the ancestral records room, spending all of his time in the 'Security' section.

' But Corban works in security.'

Why would he lie to her? It would have been normal for him to visit the security records room on occasion. It was his lying about it that made it suspicious.

Picking up the enchanted quill next to the book of records, Penelope decided to filter by Corbans name and gasped at the results.

' Twenty five visits over two months?' That wasn't normal. Even for someone who worked in security.

Penelope smiled to herself deviously as she jotted down the information on the page in front of her, recognizing an opportunity for some easy money.

' I'll give it to him over dinner AND drinks.' She thought to herself as she left the room in a significantly better mood than when she had arrived.

He sat in the quiet dark of his home on Spinners End, savoring the spice of the whisky in his glass, staring emptily at the space on the wall adjacent to him.

" Dumbledore is dead."

That's what Lucius had said, but without confirmation from the dark lord he was hesitant to believe it.

The death of Albus Dumbledore would likely pave way for the ascent of Septima Vector as Headmistress of Hogwarts.

"Here's to you, Septima." He said with a bitter laugh, raising his glass in salute to the spy who had played the game better than he ever could, ruthlessly removing her competition as she murdered her way to the top.

But what to do with that information?

That was the million galleon question. He wasn't even sure that the information held any value to him, not with Albus gone.

Finishing off the amber liquid brought him back to how he had acquired that particular piece of information to begin with, sprouting a more interesting question in his mind.

' What do I do?'

Self-preservation had always been in Severus's nature; letting the Dark Lord know that Lucius had all but told him to tell Dumbledore the identity of Bellatrix's spy at Hogwarts, informing him of Lucius's betrayal would validate his worth, something he would need now that Albus was gone and his usefulness was evaporating.

Informing the dark lord would serve the dual purpose of sentencing his only friend to death, leaving him responsible for Lucius's brat, while possibly saving his own life.

With a heavy sigh Severus poured himself another glass, determined to drown the thought from his mind.

Augusta tapped her foot impatiently in the corner of the dull room.

"Come on, get on with it." She muttered to herself.

A few chairs down the Longbottom matriarch saw her favorite duelist stifle a laugh, causing her to smile slightly.

"With the presence of Albus Dumbledore currently unknown -" Lucius Malfoy, Chairman of Hogwarts Board of Governors pontificated.

From across the room she witnessed Parkinson and Flint share a knowing glance, confirming her fears.

' Dumbledore isn't missing, he's dead.'

It had been difficult for her to fathom that Albus Dumbledore would simply allow himself to disappear. He cared too much, he would never let his friends worry about him, not like this.

Which meant that Albus had either been captured or killed, and Augusta couldn't imagine a man of Albus's stature would allow himself to become a prisoner.

"He sure loves the sound of his own voice." The young Tonks girl muttered.

This time it was Augusta's turn to smile despite the situation.

' Albus would remind us of the importance of humor.' She thought, a said tear rolling down her wrinkled cheek.

Her old friend's jokes had never been particularly good, but maybe that had been what had made them so brilliant.

She assumed the Tonks girl was here representing the Black and Greengrass votes, wielding her power like a hammer.

' Their votes will go towards Septima.' She frowned; to be appointed Head of Hogwarts you needed a majority of the thirteen votes, Septima only needed five more to secure her victory.

The woman was far too young to take on the role of Headmistress. Pomona, on the other hand, had served the castle dutifully for forty years.

"- we have heard debate on the nominees to replace Albus Dumbledore until he returns to us."

Again Flint and Parkinson shared a knowing look.

' Albus deserves better than this charade.' The man deserved a hero's funeral, at the least.

"and will now vote on the candidates; Deputy Headmistress and Head of Ravenclaw Septima Vector, and Head of Hufflepuff Pomona Sprout."

She couldn't be the only one who wasn't fooled by this act, could she?

"-and for Pomona Sprout?"

Augusta dutifully raised her hand in support of her old friend.

She glanced back towards the impressive young woman to her left.

If rumors were true than Nymphadora Tonks likely knew her friends fate.

"Congratulations to Septima Vector, our interim Headmistress!" Malfoy said to vociferous applause.

' I need to talk to her.'

"Is there a particular way it must be done?"

Sometimes he questioned the intelligence of his disciples. 'Is this how the dark lord feels about his Death Eaters?'

Marcel smiled at his unwitting assistant. "Murder is murder."

The boy gave him a determined look, unbothered by his gruesome task, he was a violent sociopath and knew it.

Of his disciples only Maurice had enough of an aptitude in occlumency to be of any help on this particular experiment.

The experiment in question had been the result of a conversation he had had with the dark lord regarding the man's rather unique situation.

Nothing could ever replace the pieces of soul the dark lord had lost, but could there be a substitute, something to bring him close to normal, something that would stabilize him?

"Avada Kedavra!" Maurice shouted dispassionately, deadly green shooting from his wand, hitting his target square in the chest.

"Search within yourself." He said encouragingly. "Let me know when you have discovered your inner light."

Could the dark lord's un-whole soul mend itself with the soul of another? Was the soul regenerative? For his experiment to work did he need a soul similar to Tom Riddle's or would any old soul do?

There was so much to learn.

"I've found it." There was a layer of nervous excitement interwoven in his young disciple's voice.

"Very good, Maurice." He said, hoping he sounded encouraging as opposed to excited, why would he be excited for a simple ritual?

"Search for the purple glow."

The soul's nucleus was its weak point, applying enough pressure would cause it to fracture, his subject risked shattering his soul to a million pieces and driving himself mad, but the young man didn't know that, he doubted Maurice would have agreed otherwise.

"Found it." He said, his eyes shut in concentration, the boy's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Good." Marcel said, removing a small spoon.

This was going to be the hard part.

"Now do as we practiced." He commanded gently.

"Break it?" Maurice sounded unsure, his natural instincts overruling his desire for power.

"Do you want to reach your potential?"

Maurice exhaled nervously, jealousy made people take insane measures.

A second later the torches in the dimly lit chamber extinguished, leaving the two in an eerie, dark silence.

He raised his wand in anticipation of what was to come.

Maurice's mouth widened, emitting a shrill scream as a dark mist slowly exited the boy's mouth.

Activating the wards on the chamber wall, the mist became encompassed by a wall of magic forcing the mist still.

Calmly Marcel approached the boxed in soul, spoon in hand.

Slowly the necromancer began his chant as Maurice's restless soul fought to return to its host.

Soon the spoon began to glow before it lifted off the floor, levitating itself to the middle of the room where the still-fighting soul waited.

Slowly the screaming soul was absorbed by the spoon, leaving only a newly-conscious Maurice alone with Marcel in the chamber once more.

Before him Maurice's eyes darted around the room rapidly, spittle dripping from the side of his mouth.

' He fried himself.'

Marcel sighed. He had hoped to avoid that outcome, but it had always been a possibility.

' Hopefully it wasn't in vain.' He thought to himself, waving his wand haphazardly over the spoon.

A victorious look morphed onto his face, the spoon emitting a light red hue.

' For magic.'

She watched from the shadows as he signed in, leisurely making his way to the lift, a smile on her face.

' What are you up to?' She wondered as Yaxley disappeared from view.

Quickly she made her way to an adjacent lift, hitting six before watching the ancient doors close.

' Fred's wrong.'

She had thought her intelligence on Corban Yaxley had warranted far more than the ten galleons she had received.

" You're profiling, Clearwater."

Exiting the lift she didn't see Corban, but that hardly mattered, she knew where he was heading and would meet him in security records.

" If you gather proof that Yaxley is up to something, I can give you up to forty galleons."

Forty galleons would cover her bills for the month.

' Maybe Majorca isn't out of the picture after all?' Lisa would be pleased. Her friend had been on her case for months about the need for a holiday, settling on the beautiful Spanish island.

' There he is!' She thought, catching sight of the nondescript man sporting fashionable robes browsing a row with a 'W' painted on the sign hanging above.

' What is he looking for?' She had no idea what the man was looking for, just that the number of times he had visited the same room, under false pretenses no-less, made him suspicious.

Discreetly Penny made her way past that row before turning down the row with an 'X' painted on a sign above it.

Through the shelves she could hear faint whispers, but couldn't make out what the man was mumbling to himself.

' A little closer, Penny!' She urged herself, drowning out her nerves.

Slowly she inched forward, his raspy voice becoming clearer with each step.

"Weasley, Weasley, Weasley. Where the fuck is Weasley." Corbin groaned.

A sense of dread overcame her. 'What is in this room?'

It was no secret that the Weasley's supported Dumbledore's side in the war effort - her ex had told her as much during her seventh year.

' It is the security room.' She reminded herself, not quite knowing what that meant, but she knew it must be important for Yaxley to lie about his reasons for coming down to the sixth floor.

Inching closer, the floor creaked, causing Corban to spin around like a top, vigilant eyes glancing around the dark room, searching for the source of the disturbance.

She held her breath and remained perfectly still, not wanting to be caught spying on a pureblood.

Corbans sinister smile looked unnatural on his features as he glanced towards where she was hidden, his wand raised.

' Shit, shit, shit.' She thought as she glanced around the room for an escape route.

Corban slashed his wand downwards and her eyes went wide.

The last thing Penny saw before the light hit her was Corban Yaxley's vicious smile.