Nixton's

Chapter One: Jonathan Clemmings Disappears

It happened so quickly.

Jonathan Clemmings threw it all away. No one could say exactly why. It was just last year that he was the star chaser for the U.S. League Champion Baraboo Banshees, well on the way to their third championship in as many years. They'd won it of course. Everyone had been so proud. He'd competed on the U.S. national team that had brought home the World Cup for the first time. He'd lead the league in scores per game as well as steals and assists every year. He was a well-known star in the U.S. fledgling sport. He'd had offers to join the best Quadpot teams. America's favorite past time would surely benefit from another high-flying, quad-shooting, superstar, but then he'd inexplicitly thrown it all away.

Announcing his retirement from Quidditch, he'd disappeared from the public eye. His fans wrote him, begging him to come back. The media lambasted him for not using his talent, but Jonathan Clemmings had stuck to his decision. He told his manager, his teammates, and his fans that he'd accomplished all he wanted, that he couldn't keep dodging bludgers all his life. Of course that wasn't the real reason. Oh it had nothing to do with the rumors of injury, of a sudden curse, or even the laughable hidden death story that was widely believed. No Jonathan Clemmings was alive and well. Only Nixton's knew where he really was.

*

Her smile glowed like the sun and her hair shined in the moonlight. She was so beautiful that night or was it high noon? Day and night seemed to be there at once. It was as if all time stood still and suddenly...

Jonathan Clemmings awoke with a start. He was sweating and cold, the sheet he'd covered himself with the night before slid off of his strong physique as he reached for his pocket watch. 5:29 a.m. In less then a minute the alarm charm he'd placed on it would go off. Jonathan had always found it irksome when he awoke just before his alarm did. Before he could start to wonder why, the most annoying sound came from the watch, the sound of seagulls cawing on some beach. Some people fell asleep to gulls. Jonathan couldn't stand it. He'd grown up far from any beach; the Midwest had been his home. He wished for a moment that he were back there, back in the family mansion and the wooded hills. He could just apparate there, but it was rather far. Besides, his mother would have served breakfast by now; he could almost smell the eggs and bacon. Well it was time to get up and start his day. The shower was slow to warm that morning, but he didn't bother to give the Muggle plumbing any help. Jonathan liked to think in the shower, he always got his best ideas then.

He thought about work and how life had been so different just a year ago. He missed the Quidditch games and the crowd. He even missed the constant offers and media pressure to join a Quadpot team. Quadpot! Ha! He'd played the game now and again when he was young but only when there were too many kids to play Quidditch. He'd always hated the sport, too simple, and too easy. He remembered going to Newton Pitch, where the Banshees played, drooling over the game of Quidditch. He remembered playing for his school's Quidditch team and pounding the public schools. It had been the life, but now he was involved in more important things. Jonathan was done with his shower; he put on his robes, the sky blue thread flashing in the sunlight.

He took a quick look in the mirror, and smiled his blue eyes shining, brown hair gleaming. Some people said his hair was blonde, he never knew what they were talking about. It was clearly brown. He looked at his teeth, taking note of the crooked tooth front and center on the lower jaw. It wasn't noticeable to strangers, but he remembered when his father had said he should have a healer fix it. He'd been excited to hear that then, because he'd hated the tooth.

It was his first tooth to grow in place of a baby tooth and it'd grown in before the other had come out. It'd been such a surprise to see a tooth already there when he bit into a raisin and his baby tooth came out. All the other teeth came in straight after that and Jonathan made sure they all came up with nothing in the way. Every time he got a loose tooth he'd yank on it and yank on it until it came right out. He'd hated that crooked tooth, but alas his father forgot about taking him to the healer to get it fixed. When Jonathan had reminded his father years later, he'd laughed and said that it was too expensive. He'd just have to live with it. Jonathan had learned to love the tooth since. Taking one last look in the mirror, Jonathan put a sky blue wizard's hat on and walked out of the bathroom.

Jonathan looked at his watch. 6:00 a.m. Barney would be here soon. He told him to arrive no earlier then six and Barney was never a minute later. Crack! There he was, Barney, one of family's House-elves, the one who used to wake Jonathan every morning.

"Good morning, Barney and how are you?" Jonathan's loud clear voice even surprised himself in the morning.

Barney looked up at Jonathan with a grin and squeaked, "Not bad Johnny, but your mother was in a frenzy to get off to work again! Sorry I'm late, sir!"

Jonathan had long ago stopped trying to tell Barney not to call him sir or Johnny for that matter. He also no longer bothered to mention that half a minute past six was not late.

He simply said, "Well, let's have a look at the paper!"

Barney always brought the paper from home; Jonathan liked to keep up on the local news. No other paper covered the Banshees like the Harrington Hare. He sat down in his recliner and took a quick look at the front page. It showed a picture of the new President of the United States Wizarding World, Charles Bork or CB as he liked to be called. Jonathan knew that Bork would be meeting with his father and the heads of the other Ruling Families today. He laughed as he imagined what CB would say when he was informed that he did not win the election on his own merit. He laughed even louder at the thought of all the silly witches and wizards who thought that the Wizarding World was theirs. Of course that would never happen, they would never even know. Nixton's Code made sure of that. Rule One: Secrecy or Death.

Jonathan then switched to the sports section and learned that the Banshees' keeper, Jeff Hill, had been suspended for the next few games. Of course, Jonathan knew this was coming, Hill had tried to hex the Warhawks' star chaser after he'd given up yet another goal to him. The Banshees had been crushed by the rival Warhawks 540-120 after that. Losing to teams they never used to and badly. What had the world come to? Jeff always had a quick temper. It was then that Barney tapped him on the shoulder and told him breakfast was ready. Jonathan went and sat down at the table. There was the bacon and eggs he loved.

*

Jonathan took Floo Powder to a Nixton's outpost in Denver and then met some other Nixton's employees at the 7:15 portkey to who knows where. The headquarters of Nixton's was one of the best-kept secrets. Jonathan always took the 7:15 even though work started at 7:30. His grandfather, Michael Clemmings, had taught him, when he got his first job. Arriving early allowed you to start working as soon as work begins. That way you could be honest when you told people when you start working. Some people, he said come in at exactly 7:30 but then they don't start working until 7:32, that meant they were liars when they said that they start work at 7:30. His Grandfather ran O'Clemen's Wand Shop in Newton. It was one of the family businesses. The portkey took them into the basement of a large rectangular building. The shields of each family and their colors were arrayed above the windows in the basement. The building was eight stories high and was set on top of a hill. The basement stuck out of the hill on each side and the workers always arrived on the east side so that the sun was rising through the windows when they arrived. At the end of the day they would leave on the west side so the sun would be setting when they left. Jonathan walked up the staircase to the ground floor where there was a hall with busts lined up against the wall to the left and a door at the end. Each family had a floor above the ground floor.

The ground floor was where all the families met, and the door was the entrance to the many meeting rooms and war rooms. No one from one family was allowed on another family's floor and there were no staircases to the upper floors. Each family had a bust that transported them and their workers to their own floor. Jonathan wasn't even entirely sure what floor was his family's, as it seemed to move from time to time. He touched his wand to the bust of his family's founder (William Harold Clemmings) and he felt the familiar tug that brought him to the Clemmings' floor, where he stopped in front of a bust that looked like his father. He was in the middle of a circular room with wood paneling. All of the other busts of past family heads were along the wall. When Jonathan got to his office, Michael was already there. Michael Grafton was an old school friend of Jonathan's. He had dark hair and brown eyes. He was only a little shorter then Jonathan and he wore the same sky blue robes. Jonathan had hired Michael as his top aide because he knew Michael was trustworthy and he could relax around Michael too.

"Morning, Mike. How are you?"

"I'm doing well, Jon. You ready for a fresh week of work?"

"Ready as I'll ever be. What the run-down today?"

"Well Henry Bloggart's up to his usual meddling around. He thinks that there could be a leak somewhere in the Seattle area."

"Well is there a target?"

"No, nothing but speculation. He wants you to investigate."

"What's the lead?"

"Some parchment rolls are missing from the archives at Bloggart National Library."

"Do you know what's missing?"

"Bloggart's keeping a tight lip about that, says it's nothing important. Maybe someone forgot to file for checkout."

"Damn it's the old smoke and mirrors. You and I both know nobody forgets to checkout. Most likely there's a leak and it's huge. Bloggart probably didn't want us to find out, so now he's acting casual."

"How do you want to approach this?"

Jonathan's face scrunched up as though deep in thought. Michael knew that he didn't want to get in Henry Bloggart's face about it, but he needed information quick if there was a leak. Truth was Henry Bloggart wouldn't mind if the leak got far, it would just mean Jonathan Clemmings would be stuck with a big mess and his father Clayboy Clemmings would have to deal with the other pissed off families. The Bloggarts and the Clemmings had always been intense rivals. When a Bloggart acted as the head of Nixton's (as Henry did now) it was ten times worse.

"We'll run through the regular sources. Gather up some info directly from Bloggart's cabinet. I'll crosscheck it with some of my own contacts. We'll see if we can't blow this thing up and shut it down quick."

"Alright Jon, I'll report back once I get some intel."

"See ya Mike."

Bloggart was such an ass. He was risking the very secrecy of Nixton's just to discredit the Clemmings name. Jonathan would have to meet with his father about this first. As the head of the family Clayboy Clemmings had resources he didn't.

*

Clayboy Clemming's real name was William Clarence Clemmings. All of the heads of the Clemmings family and their heirs were named William. To avoid confusion they used and were known by their middle names. Clayboy had always hated the name Clarence so he adopted his childhood nickname as his regular name. Clayboy's son, Jonathan would take the family over as soon as he got married. This did not seem likely anytime soon, yet when Clayboy looked at his son, he couldn't help but feel there was something distracting Jon. Whether it was women or Quidditch he did not know. These things had distracted him in the past but Jon had been so insistent on dedicating his life to Nixton's after winning the World Cup. It couldn't possibly be Quidditch. Well in any case Clayboy certainly hoped that his son wasn't planning on betraying the family. No that was a Bloggart thing to do. No son of his would ever do that. Even so as his son arrived for their daily meeting, Clayboy still couldn't help but wonder.

"Good morning son, how are you?"

"Good sir. How are you?"

"Well your mother was in a frenzy this morning but, I can't tell you what about exactly. You know how she is always going on about this or that. How is your stay in the capital?"

"It's so hot in Phoenix, sir. I don't know if I can bear it too much longer. I'd like to get back to the Midwest some time soon."

"We only need you there a little longer. That craphole Senator Binks and his cronies have been voted out in yesterday's elections. Manticore will have little power left in politics. Yes son you won't have to be on call for anything down there anymore."

This was a relief to Jonathan; he hated it in the desert. His weekends were consumed with leading a small task force that kept an eye on Sen. Binks' mansion in Phoenix. It was here that they could keep track of Manticore's dealings with him.

"Won't Manticore be able to buy some more politicians?"

"We think the last couple strikes that the Farclot family's laid on Manticore has crippled them financially. Some of their biggest financers have been wiped away. They'll have to lay low for a while and regroup. Of course, Henry won't hear anything of it. He's got to keep the entire circle on high alert and our family's power stretched thin."

"Father, Mr. Bloggart's put me on a possible leak in Seattle. He's keeping a tight lip on it so my gut tells me it could be huge."

"It could be huge, or he could be leading you on a wild goose chase while he figures out some other stupid post to put you in. I'll look into it son. I'll let you know by this afternoon. Meanwhile I want you to get down to Dallas and work out a deal with a Mr. Jeffery Malone. He says he's got some information on Manticore. This guy is on file; he's helped us out before. Don't pay more then 200 galleons for this stuff. Mr. Malone has come up with sketchy info before."

"I'm on it sir."

"Bring some back up. This guy could have some company and remember this is a family transaction. I don't want Bloggart to know anything about this."

Jonathan nodded and turned to go. Buying from a sketchy informer was always interesting.

"Oh and son, your mother's going to swing by your flat for dinner tonight after she's done with work."

"Thanks dad, I'll see you later."