Chapter Four
Alice was glad to be done with protective duty. As important as it was, it had also been tedious: nothing had happened. Not once. John Lupin had been a perfectly nice man to guard--they could have ended up with an arrogant prat, after all--but she was not one to enjoy the same dull thing day after day, even with a nice person.
Although, if she admitted it, she had sort of missed the routine she'd just barely settled into with Frank at the office and was actually looking forward to it again. Protective duty for two weeks had seen them together yet separate most of the time. During those rare times when they had been in the same room, she had not felt as comfortable talking with him in front of John Lupin as she would back at the Auror office. So ideally they would land a new, more exciting assignment; she could go back to giving him a hard time, he could go back to rolling his eyes at her, and everything would be normal.
Robertson had given them one day to recover from two weeks of twelve-hour shifts. Four new Aurors were assigned to John Lupin, including Dawlish and Robards. After a restful day at home, it was back to her desk, but strangely enough, Alice didn't mind. Frank wanted to catch up with paperwork and reports, but he had a goal: he was still looking for a link between cases, something that would convince the Head Auror that Voldemort was targeting more than just John Lupin and the werewolf community. Frank was convinced that Robard's case--the dragon keeper killed in Wales--was somehow connected to the threats against Lupin, their work at Gringotts the month before, and even the increasing reports of giant activity down south. She was starting to believe him, and for the first time, Alice was happy to sit across from him, sifting through papers, trying to figure out the puzzle while they tossed smart remarks back and forth.
But soon enough Robertson called them back to his office and sent them out again. And she was glad for that too, because it would be their first assignment away from London, and undercover as well.
They were sent to the West Country, where there had been rumors of Dark magic in the area, strange lights and sounds on the moors nearby that had been attributed to everything from Death Eaters to dragons. Covertly undercover as Muggles exploring the area, they were hoping to come across some speck of reliable intelligence to follow up on. Frank had changed his appearance just enough that he wouldn't be recognized as an Auror: with square spectacles and a beard that made him look at least ten years older, his disguise almost sent her into fits of laughter every time she looked at him. Alice had colored her hair a bright copper and altered her features slightly; she found that liked her new nose better.
It was their third night in the area, and they seen nothing so far. They were sitting in the only pub in Godric's Hollow, a village in the southwest that was home to a large wizarding population. Frank was pretending to read the local paper, but she knew he was listening to everything going on around them. He had the ability to do that, to listen to multiple conversations at once and pick out the important bits. He did it at the office as well, pausing to catch some conversation from several cubicles away. Alice had no such ability--it just gave her a headache--and it had quickly become obvious that her skill was as the visual scout. She noticed things and remembered the details. She had honed it on the assignment with John Lupin and was now in charge of scoping out things around them that Frank pointed her to, keeping a close eye on who came and who went and who appeared suspicious.
She rather liked the set-up: he could do what he was good at, she could do what she was good at, and they weren't off doing it by themselves as they had done on protective detail. But as with all good partnerships, they bickered whenever he asked her to focus on a particular table but she saw nothing suspicious, or when she noticed someone but he couldn't pick out any of their conversation. It was a bit like their old pattern in the office, which Alice found comfortable yet tiring after three days; sometimes she wished they got along better.
"Third table to your left," Frank murmured, not even glancing up from the paper. "What do you see?"
Alice gave a fake yawn as she pretended to stretch and glance around; it was a bit cliché but it had worked so far. There were three men in long cloaks sitting at the table, two of whom looked about their age and one who was several decades older, grey-haired and paunchy with an air of ingrained arrogance. None of them looked particularly friendly, but she didn't notice anything unusual about them, so she shook her head, and he frowned.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "I'm certain I heard them mention something."
"They look like a bunch of sour Muggles," she said. "They're probably talking about the weather or something."
"They're talking about potions," Frank replied, still not glancing up. "Look again."
Alice sat up and tried not to glare at him. Stretching again, she eyed the three men once more. The older man was sliding an envelope across the table to one of the younger men. She held back a snort when she noticed the tip of a wand sticking out from a pocket in his cloak as he tucked the envelope away. Unfortunately, he glanced up, saw her watching, and narrowed his eyes at her.
Her instinct was to look away and deny that she had seen anything. Yet she knew he would never believe it, and she'd only be in more trouble. So within the space of a heartbeat, she made the split second decision to go with it instead, to try to get more. She eyed him confidently, making a small swishing motion with her hand to indicate that she had not only seen the wand, but knew what it was for as well. The man frowned at her.
"What are you doing?" Frank hissed. "You'll blow our cover."
"Already blown," she murmured without moving her lips. Instead, she pouted at the man and mimed a drinking motion, the message clear: buy me a drink? She added a coy wink to it as well and could feel the tension radiating from Frank. Maybe he was worried about their cover--or maybe he was jealous.
She stood as the man made an excuse to his friends and headed toward the bar. "Watch my back," she said softly. She felt her heart pounding, but with excitement, not nerves. Here was her chance to actually do something, more than anything they had done so far. The men were obviously wizards and engaged in something covert. Were they Death Eaters? Was it Dark magic?
She turned on her best charm and sidled up to the bar next to the younger man. Up close, he appeared far more threatening than from several tables away. He was tall and thin but radiated a cunning physicality. She wondered what she had got herself into.
"What do you want?" he muttered as she came up next to him, lightly brushing against his arm. He had dark hair and coal black eyes and a deep, dark voice. He did not turn to look at her, but stared straight ahead.
"A drink, for one," she responded lightly, keeping her nerves in check. If she cocked this up, Frank would be furious. "A date, maybe. Mine is dull."
The man glanced over his shoulder at Frank, who was still reading the paper. Alice could tell from the set of his body that her partner was listening and ready jump in at any moment. Too late she realized her mistake in revealing his presence, although they had probably been seen together already. The dark-haired man studied Frank without a change in expression.
"Go back to your bloke. Dull is more your type."
Alice pulled a face, actually slightly stung by the comment as she didn't fancy herself a dull kind of girl. She plunged on, only half aware of the danger she was getting herself into.
"I'm not dull," she said, hoping her voice sounded petulant enough. "I am, however, bored. You're the first wizard I've met in days traipsing around these stupid moors."
"That's not my problem," he said, giving her a look that clearly said, ’This is over.’ She ignored it and placed a hand on his arm.
"You could help me with it, though." She lowered her voice. "Even if you just got me away from him. Maybe introduce me to your friend?" The man glanced back toward his table companions and nodded. The older man stood and left the pub without a look back, leaving the third man alone at the table. He was shorter and more stocky, with blond hair and small piercing eyes she could feel across the room. After finishing his drink, he sauntered over, casual gait failing to hide the deadly intent in his eyes. Alice knew she was in trouble.
"The lady wants our help," the first man said, inclining his head toward her. "She's trying to ditch her date."
The blond man nodded, his lopsided grin more of an evil leer. Yet before he could say anything, Frank was there, taking her firmly by the elbow. "I'm not her date," he said, and his voice sounded much higher than normal; it was all she could do to rein in her surprise before it occurred to her that he was playing it up and not really as nervous as he sounded. "I'm her cousin, and I'm supposed to keep her in line. Thank you for not taking her up on the offer. We'll just be off now."
The first man narrowed his eyes, as if he suspected something. He probably did. Alice felt like they were stuck in the perfect example of what not to do in training, some terrible cliché of every spy story she had ever heard. She had started it, though, and had to finish it, even if she didn't like how it ended. She sighed and played her part. "Bugger off, Pete. I'll be fine."
Frank raised an eyebrow. "I doubt it. You've had too much to drink already. I'm afraid we'll have to skip our hike and head home, so no moon calves tonight. Good day, gentlemen." He inclined his head politely, all babbling deference, and lead Alice toward the door. She could feel the men inside watching them as she let Frank guide her out of the building. As soon as the door shut behind them, she ripped her arm away and glared at him.
"A drinking problem? Really?" She rolled her eyes at how ridiculous it seemed. "I could have had some information from them, you know. They were up to something."
"Of course they were," he hissed, tucking his glasses into a pocket and placing a hand on the wand in his cloak. "And you just walked right up and practically announced that we were Aurors looking for them. Do you know who you were talking to?"
"No," she replied defensively. "But he had bad breath."
"That's not his worst trait." Frank glanced around as they hurried down the dark street. "I'd say you just blundered your way into--"
"Into what?" rasped a familiar voice from behind them. Alice felt a wand pressed against her back; glancing sideways, she saw the dark-haired man from the pub with his wand at Frank's back. "Just what exactly do you think you blundered into, Auror-boy?"
Frank looked at her, and she saw in his face that he had instantly made the decision to drop the innocent cousin routine. It was too late, anyway, and would never work. He squared his shoulders and tried to shrug off the wand at his back; the wizard behind him must have pushed harder, because Frank grunted as he stumbled forward into a narrow alley. "I have no idea," he replied, straightening his robes. "Hopefully something a lot more innocuous than it looked."
"And just what do you think you saw?" asked the wizard, poking him again.
"Probably some black market trinket deal," Frank said, and she could tell that he was thinking quick. "Protective amulets or something like that. A lot of that going around lately."
The man behind her laughed, a high-pitched girlish giggle, and Alice felt a chill in her bones. It was the laugh of someone very cruel, someone very strong--and someone who could very well kill her with his bare hands. She glanced over her should to see that it was the blond man from the pub.
"Shoddy guess for such a pretty Auror-boy," replied the wizard behind Frank. "You're not even close. However, you are in the wrong place at the wrong time, so we'll have to deal with it. I don't want Moody on my arse for it."
"Moody's tough like that. So, a Memory Charm then?" Frank asked, almost conversationally. Alice glanced at him in panic. Why was he giving them ideas? It was better than getting killed, but still…
"Perhaps," the man replied. "But we haven't played with an Auror in a while, especially a mouthy one with a reckless partner. I think I'd like to have a little fun first."
"I'm not reckless," Alice started to protest, even though it was probably true in this case.
"And I don't like to play," Frank growled, his voice low and threatening.
And suddenly they were fighting for their lives.
* * *
He knew as soon as he felt the wand in his back that they were in trouble. Alice had gone off on her own and got caught, and now he had to figure out a way to get them out alive. Then he'd think seriously about requesting a new partner, because he'd suddenly had it with her.
She had gone too far: first he had had to rescue her from the bar, and now he had to get them out of another mess, thanks to her impulsive blundering about. He couldn't play the dutiful cousin anymore, they would never believe it. So he didn't deny being an Auror, and though he doubted it was about protective amulets, maybe he could avoid a major confrontation if he played it right.
Unfortunately, that didn't seem likely when the wizard behind him decided he'd like to have a bit of fun with two young Aurors. Frank let his instincts take over, because he knew they were both strong and well-trained and could handle it. As his partner grumbled, "I'm not reckless," he tensed his muscles, picturing what he needed to do in order to avoid getting killed.
"And I don't like to play," he said, deliberately pitching the tone of his voice low and threatening, even if Alice thought he sounded ridiculous from the surprised look she flashed him. Before the words were completely out, he spun on his would-be attacker and smashed the palm of his flat hand straight into the man's face, angling upwards right between his mouth and nose. Frank heard a satisfying crack as he brought his other hand up, and had his wand at the man's throat before anyone could say a word.
"Don't even think about it," he growled. He stared into the black eyes of Borman Wilkes, a suspected Death Eater only a year or two behind him at Hogwarts. Frank wasn't sure what he would bring him in on exactly, but he'd come up with something. At the very least, the men had just accosted two Aurors without provocation. He turned toward his partner to see Alice wrestling with her own attacker, another former Slytherin he recognized as Amycus Carrow.
Before he could bind his prisoner, however, Frank felt an excruciating pain in his right arm as a powerful curse smashed into it. His wand spun away into the street as he clutched his broken arm to his chest. Two masked wizards stepped out from behind a nearby building with their wands raised as Borman Wilkes scrambled away.
"Hamilton, watch out!" Frank yelled as a jet of red light raced toward her. She ducked just in time for it to hit her attacker in the face, and he crashed to the ground behind her. She whirled on their new attackers and immediately began dueling them both, her wand quick and steady.
Frank dodged a spell from Wilkes and practically threw himself on top of his fallen wand, grabbing it just in time to raise an awkward but effective shield with his left hand while he cradled his broken arm. He jumped up and fired back, but Wilkes just laughed as he easily parried it away and sent a strong Disarming Spell back. Again, Frank barely managed to block it; he was good with his left hand, but not that good and knew he couldn't keep it up for long.
Alice was still dueling the two new Death Eaters when a jet of yellow light cut across her upper leg; she doubled over, crying out in pain, then swore vehemently as she stood up straight, her face determined. Frank felt his blood boil, and at the last second he let his Stunner fly to the left instead of toward Wilkes, catching one of her attackers in the stomach without warning; the man dropped like a rock.
Several things happened at once. Alice turned to glare at him, but the wizard she was still dueling did not stop. He cast a jinx that sent her sprawling, landing hard on her injured leg with a groan. Frank jumped in front of her, shielding her as Borman Wilkes joined the other wizard and they began to rain curses on them both. And then several loud cracks signaled the arrival of two more masked Death Eaters that immediately began advancing on them as well.
Frank processed this all in a split second. He was injured and dueling with his weaker hand, Alice was on the ground in pain, and they were outnumbered with more Death Eaters likely to arrive. As he quickly glanced around, he saw the old man from the pub watching dispassionately from down the street, as if calling the shots from afar, and he knew they couldn't fight four--or more--at once.
Besides, they already had what they needed most: a lead.
Casting a shaky Shield Charm as he stepped to her side, Frank grabbed his partner's wrist and dragged her to her feet. Alice opened her mouth to speak, probably to protest, but he fired a spell at the ground that sent up clouds of red smoke, distracting their attackers, then turned on the spot and Apparated away.
They were safe.
They reappeared at the Apparition point of the reception room at St. Mungo's. Alice threw him off, breathing heavy as she limped away from him. She was obviously furious, but for some reason Frank felt the beginning of a very inappropriate reaction beginning in his chest.
"I can Apparate myself, you know," she practically hissed, rubbing her wrist where he had grabbed her tightly. "And what are we doing here? I'm fine, I don't need a Healer…" She trailed off as he started laughing. He couldn't help it. It was just so utterly, madly ridiculous he had to let it out somehow. So he laughed.
"What's so funny, Longbottom?" she demanded, and her face was red and dirty, her hazel eyes blazing. He laughed even harder through the pain throbbing in his arm.
"Nothing," he replied as he walked toward the Inquiries desk, cradling his arm. "If you don't need a Healer for that gash on your leg, then you can stagger back to the Ministry and start filling out the paperwork. Tell 'em I've got this." He gave her a rather giddy look as he waved the envelope he had lifted from Borman Wilkes. "I, however, need to have my arm set."
He saw her face register shock and then horror before he turned away and gave his name to the rather surprised Welcome Witch behind the desk. He felt rather than heard Alice come up beside him, and she looked almost sick.
"I had no idea you'd been hit so bad," she murmured, eyeing his arm in disbelief.
He shrugged, although he was secretly pleased at how remorseful she felt. Was it because he had been injured or because it was her fault they had been attacked in the first place? Looking into her suddenly worried face, he found he wasn't angry with her now. Maybe it was the pain, maybe it was the adrenaline flowing out of him and leaving him exhausted, maybe it was because she had fought well: it didn't bother him anymore.
"Lesson learned," he said, running a hand through his hair. It came back covered with blood from a cut he hadn't even felt at the time. Merlin, there was going to be a lot of paperwork with this one. Maybe she really should go back and get started. He followed the witch behind the desk toward a large open treatment room in the back, where a number of beds allowed witches and wizards to be treated quickly and then moved to the appropriate ward for further care. He didn't even notice that Alice had followed him until he sat down on a cot and she helped him move back, even propping a pillow behind him. He narrowed his eyes at her.
"What are you still doing here?" he asked.
She shrugged without looking at him. "I should have my leg looked at."
He was silent, but she kept talking as if she felt the need to say something more. "And I should stay with my partner."
"I'm fine," he said. "I've had worse." Which wasn't entirely true, but he said it anyway.
She wouldn't look at him, and he was half tempted to tilt her chin up so she would, but he knew such a gesture would be wildly inappropriate since it suddenly made him think about doing wildly inappropriate things. Instead he cleared his throat, shaking the thought from his head. "Everyone makes mistakes. Just don't make another. I hate having my arm set."
She looked up with wide eyes that were almost brimming with tears. He was shocked to see them, as he was so used to her challenges and insults, clever remarks wrapped up in snark. He hoped she wasn't rattled; she may have got them into the fight, but she'd been good in the thick of it, and he'd hate to see her confidence shaken so early.
Or maybe he wouldn't mind if she learned something from that night; maybe then she would stop giving him such a hard time and they could have a more normal working relationship.
Either way, as the Healer came in to look at his arm, he found himself closing his eyes and reconsidering Alice Hamilton as a partner. He tried not to dwell on the passing impulse to kiss her, instead trying to focus on their assignment and the attack so he could recall it clearly for Robertson and the reports.
Unfortunately, any chance he had of maintaining his record of thought was destroyed when the emergency alarms blared from the reception area. Seconds later, John Dawlish staggered into the room with John Lupin, who was battered and bloody and barely conscious.
* * *
Love and Order by Gmariam
Chapter Endnotes: Heap praise upon Kara/karaleydargen for her hard work! She's amazing! Thank youuuuu!
Also, that little white box is empty and likes to be filled. :)