Chapter Nine
Alice watched them leave, unable to believe what had just happened. John Dawlish, her friend through three years of Auror training, Imperiused? A murderer? She couldn't even begin to imagine his guilt and grief. How would he ever recover? How would the department recover?
Frank was also staring at the open door, before he strode over and slammed it shut. He paced around the room, running a hand through his hair, still in disarray from the fight in Hogsmeade only hours earlier. Alice had never seen him so rattled, and she wasn't sure whether to be scared, worried, or angry at him for the unexpected reaction.
"It's not his fault," she started, but he immediately waved her off.
"I know that."
She watched him continue to pace for a moment. "And you did what you had to do," she said. This time he stopped and gave her a skeptical look. "No really--thank you for being the one to question him. Moody would have driven him into the ground."
"And I was easy on him?" Frank laughed bitterly when she nodded somewhat helplessly at his bleak response. "But he was Imperiused. He didn't know what he was doing. I did."
Alice frowned, her heart skipping a beat as she wondered what he was talking about. Had she missed something during the interrogation? He wasn't thinking about the hospital wing, was he? "What do you mean?"
"It's my fault," he stated flatly, not meeting her eyes as he started to pace again. "It's my fault Dawlish is in this mess."
"Frank, it's not your fault. Stop acting like--"
"--like it is?" he snapped at her. "Well, I can't. Don't you see? Dawlish is under arrest and Robertson is dead because of me!"
"How do you figure that?" she demanded. "Did you poison Robertson? No. Did you curse John? No. He was Imperiused by a Death Eater, and he was the one who--"
"--stole the envelope with the poison," Frank interrupted again. "Which I took from Wilkes in Godric's Hollow. If I hadn't brought it in as evidence, it wouldn't have been here for him to steal."
"And I'm the one who told him about it, so that must make it my fault too!" she snapped back. "Only it's not, because you don't know if he would have ended up with it anyway. Maybe Wilkes was supposed to deliver to him."
"You heard him!" Frank exclaimed, waving his arms around. "It wasn't meant for Robertson. They just took advantage of the opportunity that I gave them by bringing it in. It's my fault," he repeated. "None of this would have happened if I hadn't taken that damn envelope."
"Stop it," Alice told him, standing and forcing him to stop pacing around the room. She was losing patience. "It is not your fault that you brought in the evidence we needed, just like it's not my fault that I trusted a fellow Auror with information about it, just like it's not John's fault he was Imperiused to steal it. And you helped figure out what was really going on."
"It was too late," Fank replied bitterly. "Robertson's dead, just like Barden Bagshot."
"Is that what this is about? What happened in Hogsmeade?" She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to answer.
He gave her that long look he had when he was thinking, then abruptly turned and walked away, his back to her as he faced the wall. "No."
She noticed the tense set of his shoulders, the fists clenched at his sides. He might be upset about Dawlish and he might feel guilty about the envelope, but that wouldn't set him off. She knew him well enough to recognize that much. Which meant he was upset about Hogsmeade, even if he wasn't admitting it.
She walked up to him, standing close but not touching, trying not to upset him any further when all she wanted to do was support him. "It's not your fault Barden Bagshot was killed," she said. "There was nothing we could do, it happened so fast."
If it was possible, he grew even more tense. "I know that," he replied, but his voice was tight. "I've lost people before."
"Then what's wrong?" she asked softly. She touched him on the arm and felt him jerk back. He hung his head before finally turning around, and she stepped back from the stark look of emotion playing across his face.
"Everything," he replied, then shrugged it off before meeting her eye. "What about you? Are you all right? You were hit pretty hard in Hogsmeade, and it's been rough in here."
She shook her head, confused. "I told you, I'm fine. Whatever it was, Madam Pomfrey took care of it. I'm still sore, but no worse off than you."
His right hand came up, as if he were reaching for her face, but he didn't touch her: he let it drop instead and blew out his breath in one, long sigh. "Thank Merlin."
"Frank, what is it?" she asked softly, moving closer; he shook his head as he stepped back, further away from her until he was against the wall.
"I thought for a moment I might have lost you back there, in Hogsmeade," he murmured, looking away. "And between what happened in the hospital wing and in here, you must be...well, I'd certainly understand if you hated me now."
Alice stepped closer and raised her hand toward his face, hesitant fingers tracing the small scratches on his cheek and chin. He closed his eyes with another sigh and turned his head away.
"I could never hate you," she murmured, pulling him back. "I care about you too much." His eyes snapped open, and he gazed down at her with that look again, a look that made her stomach flip and her heart race at the same time. Yet he still seemed so sad; why did he look so sad?
"Alice," he said, his voice hoarse, his hands clenched at his sides. "I'm sorry, but--"
She stopped him with a finger to his lips again, a small shock rippling through her at the touch of his warm skin, even on her hand. "Stop apologizing."
"I have to," he whispered, letting his head fall back against the wall as he gazed up at the ceiling. "We're partners, we're not supposed to feel this, to do this."
She tilted her head slightly and smiled up at him. "Do what?" she asked, though she could barely form the words. She was close enough to feel his heart beating, to see the desire in his eyes as he gazed down at her once more. She felt it too: why should they deny it any longer?
She licked her lips; he shook his head. She took a step forward; he turned his head away. She closed the distance between them and reached for his face, closing her eyes until she felt warm lips brush against hers, slowly at first, hesitantly‚ until with a gasp his hands were around her waist, pulling her toward him, and she wrapped her hands around his neck. They surrendered to the rush of passion that swept them together, so unexpectedly and so completely, and so, so right.
Until the door flew open, and they sprang apart, the moment lost.
"Heads up, Longbottom, Hamilton," snapped Moody. "Untangle your tongues. We've got work to do."
"Yes sir," Frank muttered, his face flaming. Alice had rarely seen him blush, and it was just about the most endearing thing she had ever seen. She almost wanted to snog him all over again, right there in front of Moody. Instead she gave him a small smile when he finally glanced sideways and met her eyes. He returned it and took a deep breath.
"What's the plan, sir?" he asked. Moody crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them both.
"I don't know what's going on between you two, but forget about it for now, understand? We'll figure it out later." Alice nodded and composed herself, setting aside both her embarrassment and her longing for more, as Moody continued. "Now, why Robertson? And why now?"
"He's the Head Auror," said Frank without hesitating. "He's a natural target."
"Right," replied Moody. "But something doesn't feel right. It could be a diversion, which means we need to figure out the real endgame, not to mention the second target."
"Killing the head of the Auror office hardly seems like a simple diversion," Frank protested. "It's a heavy blow to the department."
"Yes, it is," Moody agreed. "But it's a blow meant to distract us from something else."
"How do you know that?" asked Alice, finding her voice. As plausible as it sounded, there didn't seem to be any proof.
"I don't. But Robertson wasn't the only target, and Dumbledore's got a hunch there's more to this than we think. His hunches are usually right." Moody studied them with his magical eye. "So figure it out. Like you did at Hogwarts."
"What?" she asked. "Why us?"
"Because you're in the thick of it, that's why. Because you're good even if you feel like shit right now about Dawlish. Now, let's pull this together."
Alice tried to sort it out. She started from the beginning, trying to put together a dozen different pieces of a puzzle that was just growing more and more complicated by the hour. The goblins, the werewolves, the giants, even a dragon: all factions Voldemort could use in his fight. Yet what did an obscure poison and a dead Head Auror have to do with it? Even as a distraction? And who could possibly be the other target?
"I think I know," Frank said suddenly, turning around, his eyes bright. "It fits. Everything we've been looking into recently points to You-Know-Who growing his forces, right?"
"Goblins, werewolves, giants, even dragons," said Alice. "But what does that have to do with Robertson? All that other stuff is under the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures." Moody was silent, simply motioning him impatiently to continue.
"Well, we've had hints of other things going on," said Frank, warming up. His earlier anger and reluctance appeared lost to the thrill of discovery. "The suspicious activity in Hyde Park, the requiem whispers, now Robertson's murder. I think You-Know-Who has been running a double offensive. He's building his forces for a bigger attack, and taking out Robertson leaves the Auror office unprepared for it."
"An attack on what? And he can't possibly be ready," protested Alice. "It's only been weeks since all this started!"
"No, he's ready for a something big," said Moody, nodding in agreement. "He's got the werewolves, he's got a dragon, and he's closing in on the giants. What do you think he wants them for?"
"A Muggle target," replied Frank. He shook his head, as if his brain were racing to put it together in some semblance of order. "He's been hitting the wizarding community quick and hard recently. It'll be Muggles next. Something big, like you said. Something he can use those forces for, because we can handle them, but Muggles can't." He paused and stared at the floor. "What's the date?" he asked abruptly.
"The 20th. Why?" asked Moody.
"That can't be it," Frank murmured, shaking his head once more.
"What?" demanded Moody. "Out with it Longbottom, even if it's mad."
"The Proms concerts start tomorrow," Frank replied, turning around with a grim look on his face. "In London‚ near Hyde Park."
"And why would Voldemort attack a Muggle concert?" asked Alice.
"Because they're doing a requiem mass," Frank said. "A mass for the dead."
Alice stared at him. "How do you know that?" she asked.
Frank shrugged. "My grandparents used to go. They took me once. I saw it in the Muggle papers this past week while reading through them for suspicious activity. That's it, I'm sure--it all fits. They've got the forces, they've been scoping out the area, and we've heard too many whispers of the word requiem for it to be anything else."
"How many people usually attend?" asked Alice, dreading the answer.
"Several thousand," said Moody, narrowing his eyes at Frank.
"That's a lot of Muggles in one place," Frank said quietly, his blue eyes intense, as if willing the old Auror to believe him. "A place we know they've been looking at."
"And he would need a lot of firepower for a target like that," added Moody. "Right. Let's go. We need to get you to Headquarters."
"Wait, what?" asked Frank. "We need to tell ... Well, whoever is in charge now..." He trailed off, because with Robertson dead, who was in charge?
"That would be me, at least until the Minister appoints someone else because I sure as hell don't want the job permanently," snapped Moody. "So I'm telling you to get to Order headquarters while I clean up things around here."
"What do you mean, Order headquarters?" asked Alice, exchanging a confused glance with Frank.
Moody grinned. "It's our flat in Diagon Alley. You know Gideon Prewett?" She nodded, for Gideon Prewett had only been a few years older than her at Hogwarts. She remembered playing Quidditch with his younger brother Fabian; most of the girls in her year had had a crush on one or both of them at some point.
"Good," Moody was saying. "He should be there on duty. I want you to bring him up to date on what's going on and have him start gathering the troops. I'll send Dumbledore as soon as he's done here. I assume he went to bend the Minister's ear?"
"Yes, sir," said Frank as Moody started toward the door. "Then what? What about things here? We can't just leave, there's too much to do."
"I'm in charge here, Longbottom," Moody said. "And I'm releasing you for the rest of the night. I've got to contact Robertson's family and keep things from falling apart while getting ready for tomorrow. Have Gideon show you how to cast a Patronus while you wait for Dumbledore."
Frank frowned. "We already know how to do that, sir." He stopped, and Alice finished for him.
"We learned it in training," she added. Moody shook his head.
"Not like this, you didn't. Gideon can show you how to make 'em talk."
Alice exchanged another look with Frank. Moody did not miss it. He turned back to them, arms crossed over his chest with a frown.
"Look, I don't know what's going on between you two, but work it out quick. We need you on this, no distractions."
"We, sir?" asked Frank. Alice had a very strange feeling she knew exactly what Moody was about to say. The cantankerous old Auror grinned at them.
"Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Longbottom."
* * *
Love and Order by Gmariam
Chapter Endnotes: Pardon my geekiness, but there really was a Proms concert on Friday, July 21st, 1978. The program consisted of the Verdi Requiem, which is a fantastic piece if you are so inclined to listen to it. Was Royal Albert Hall really attacked that night? Of course not. Although, it's possible the Ministry of Magic simply covered it up…
This chapter turned out quite short, but the next one is twice as long! So it ebbs and flows, what can I say? Hope you enjoyed it! We're getting closer to … well, whatever's coming. ;)