Stacking the Deck

Chapter 12

Thursday was a haze. Everything happened at a distance. Time was counted by classes shifting. She remembered very little of Thursday.

The gray fog lifted on Friday. The first snow fell. Having grown up in the rainy Pacific Northwest, Jones still felt a little thrill when it snowed. It all looked so fresh and otherworldly. And it was bright, too. That was the first thing to pierce her personal sphere of gloom, the usually dark corridor outside of her quarters seemed unusually well lit. Drawn by the light, she pressed her nose to the grimy window and saw a world covered in a blanket of white promise, unsullied and ready for any prepared to make of it as they would. It had to be an omen. Kessler closed his door loudly, as he did all things, and came to stand behind her.

"First snow. A bit early, but still beautiful." His voice sounded rough, but, when she glanced over at him, his eyes sparkled.

"I always like it when it's like that - perfectly smooth and white. The whole place looks like a fairy tale."

"Most fairy tales are based in truth," Kessler said. He looked about to launch into one of his rambling discussions, but then he smiled. "A fairy tale. Yes. This morning, I am the troll who quests for a treasure, in this case, coffee."

Strange how the simplest things can chase away a bad mood. For someone who had spent the last day in a fog, she felt amazingly chipper and optimistic. Wronski had called her a "hopeless optimist" and she decided that the title was just. Coffee, a cigarette and a chance to harass Paul. The perfect start to the last day of the school week.

Rabe, the group's early bird, had outdone himself. Two carafes of coffee sat on the counter and he was brewing a third. Jones narrowed her eyes at him, trying to decide whether his useful habit of making coffee for the group made up for his lack of ability elsewhere. No, the day had started out too well to start thinking about those sorts of things. She poured her first mug and slumped in her favorite chair. Life wasn't that bad.

Wronski dragged in during her second cup and her third cigarette. Never a morning person, he had the hardest time of the group rising with the morning's six o'clock bells. On a good morning, he made it into the staff room by seven and Jones could recall a few where he scuffed in at eight - barely enough time to get any tea into him before classes started. He plopped his teapot onto the small table that sat between their two chairs. A small slop of amber-colored water shot out the spout to spatter the faces of world leaders gracing his weeks-out-of-date newsmagazine. His leather coat made a slithering sound as he slid into his chair and then almost slid out of it as he assumed his favorite slouched position. One hand covered his eyes while the other scratched his head. "I hate mornings."

"It's Friday."

"TGIF," he croaked. The fingers covering his eyes spread to reveal a watery blue orb. "You ok?"

She lit her fourth cigarette automatically. "Yeah. I've been better, but I'm ok."

"Just checking."

"Thanks. I appreciate it." She took a deep drag, using the burn to keep focused. "Today's a new day. I have my big event tonight. Should be fun."

"You ok about the family stuff?"

Jones shrugged and drained the last of her coffee. "Nothing I can do about it. I'll figure out a way to get some money to Davy to make up for it. I need to make up an amulet for the kid, family tradition and all that." She puffed at her cigarette, not really wanting it, but out of habit. "Do you think your mother could be talked into sending some mail for me?"

"My mom?" Wronski asked. He let his hand slide away from his face and struggled into a more upright position. "I don't understand. My mother?"

"Yeah. Your mom. She's a biochemist. It wouldn't seem odd for her to send a letter to a biological testing facility, would it? Davy's a tech for one of the big research companies in downtown Seattle. If she sent it to him at work, I don't think the magic cops would catch on for at least a few times. That may be all it takes to get it figured out. I may also want to send a letter out. Think she'd do it?"

"I don't know." Looking dubious, he made a show of checking his tea. "I know who would, though. My brother."

"Really." Jones couldn't manage to pitch her voice into a question. "I thought he was the black sheep. Isn't he a programmer? The one non academic in your family?"

"Yeah. Tom is a good guy, though, and he enjoys, you know, thumbing his nose a bit at the powers that be."

"Like your mom?"

"Exactly like my mom. And all the rest of the authority figures out there."

"Tom? Thomas? Good, solid name."

Wronski poured his first cup slowly. "I don't want to hear about it."

That alone intrigued her enough to let a little of the surfacing bitterness go. "Why?" Jones stopped for a moment and thought. "You're Paul, your brother is Thomas, your mother is Mary. What's your father's name? Joseph?'

Wronski glared briefly before settling back into his chair, his enormous white mug with its garish chemical symbol for caffeine emblazoned in red cradled against his chest. "Yes, as a matter of fact."

"Mary, Joseph, Paul and Thomas... Any other apostles in your family?"

"Yes."

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"No."

It was too good to pass up and she needed the laugh. "Anyone named Jesus?"

"No."

"John?"

"Yes."

"Bartholomew?"

Wronski set his mug down and leaned over. "My Aunt Martha and my Aunt Anne have Timothy, Bartholomew, Luke, Peter and Theresa."

"That's not all of them."

"On my father's side."

"Were there enough on the other side," she started, but Wronski shut her up with a glare and a nod.

"More than enough."

* * *

Except where it clung to the walls of the castle on the north and east sides, the snow was gone by lunchtime. The day was beautiful, perfect fall weather. One class' worth of Ritual Magic hadn't dampened her mood. It would all work out. She would manage to get money to Davy, help him out. At best, it would take four letters before the Department of Magical Affairs figured it out. It would work. She'd make it work.

The second Ritual Magic class had a bad case of Friday. Their attention was more on the upcoming seventh year boys' Quidditch game on Saturday night than on anything she had to say. While annoying, it gave her time to make a few notes on the sorts of spells she thought the Special Projects class should set. Ensconced in his corner, Adler had more than his usual number of lackeys hanging about. In his custom school robes that were a slightly darker red than Durmstrang's color, he was set apart from the group. He looked more like a liege lord with his vassals than a student in a class. "Pass them and get rid of them," the memory of Wronski's voice kept repeating whenever she looked in Adler's direction.

The Special Projects class, for the first time she could remember in four years of teaching, was too excited to pay attention to her lecture. The class usually took their places and sat quietly until she allowed questions or gave them time to talk. Today, they whispered and passed notes. It was one thing when the Ritual Magic students slacked off, but another in her favorite class. One note too many exchanged hands.

"Accio notes Totus!" Little slips of paper whizzed from hands and hiding places. Standing next to her podium, an annoyed look on her face, Jones tapped her wand against her leg and watched as her most disciplined class changed into embarrassed children. Taking her time, she walked to the desk where the notes had flown to and picked up the one closest.

"'What about a paralyzing hex?'" If they had to pass notes, at least they were passing relevant notes. Plucking out the next one, she read out loud, "The Oculis Caputus mixed with a simple Ardere add-on." Jones refolded the note. "That would be..." She tried to find a word that would have a bored, academic connotation and failed. "Really cool!" The class tittered and then erupted in a wave of ideas and laughter.

Veronika waved her hand and, before Jones could point in her direction, leapt out of her chair. "Frau Professor, I know that you have said that we could not kill or disable, but what if the spell only disabled for a few moments? Are spells that would cause gastric distress forbidden? Are all of these to be time dependant? And what of simple, foolish charms that would just change someone's face to purple?"

"You're all very excited about this, aren't you?" The answer was obvious. Everyone, even Dieter, who practiced looking ever-so-bored, wriggled in their seats. "I think, considering that you will be facing seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts students, that you could cast rather advanced spells..." The room's noise level rose. Jones noted quirks of mouths and eyebrows that alerted to her some preplanning that perhaps should be derailed. "However..." The excitement was cut immediately. "For this exercise, I think we should stick to things that are not fatal, won't incapacitate them, won't blind them." She held up the folded note, waving it. "They shouldn't want to run to Professor Heiniger, asking for my head."

Dieter, who had assumed his favorite pose of his hands crossed loosely in front of him, dark eyes peering between them, closed his dramatically made-up eyes and them opened them slowly. "This exercise? There will be others?"

Jones nodded. "If this goes off well, then there will be more. This is an experiment for both classes. I rather hope that it does work. You all could use some practical experience and so could they."

Dieter smiled in a way that Jones found disconcerting. "Excellent, Frau Professor. It may take more than one such exercise to flush the bird."

* * *

The Aurors arrived just before dinnertime. Just before, just in case there was food, Jones thought ungraciously.

Heiniger had surprised her. Jones had had a few previous experiences with the kitchen staff, all of which had been very unpleasant. The woman in charge of the kitchens viewed them as her private domain. When Jones had wandered in, looking for something to eat and had made the mistake of helping herself to what was on the counter, it had been as if she'd been caught stealing the crown jewels. The kitchen manager had screamed, in several languages, at Jones until she had crept away. Her second foray into those steamy depths had similar results and an escalation - the Dark Arts staff table's fare decreased in quantity since, according to the kitchen manager, food had been pilfered by one of the staff. Jones took the hint. She'd dreaded approaching them to ask if they would prepare a meal for her class. Heiniger, however, had taken control. ("Just like a department head should", Jones had grumbled under her breath, one eye watching Rabe saunter by on his way to dinner.) A smorgasbord for the participants was laid out in one of the unused offices on the main floor.

The Special Projects class dressed for the occasion. Between nibbles of food, Jones admired the outfits. Dieter could have blended into the crowd in any major city with a Goth population. Dressed in layers of black clothing, he had added gloves and white face make up. Black robes were the mode de soir. Jones hadn't realized that black came in that many shades nor had she seen the kind of robes that the very rich wore to play. Wools black enough to dim the light draped elegantly on a few while others' versions were tight or of matte fabrics. She felt shoddy and underdressed in that crowd. With the uniform red robes put away until Monday morning, she had a better idea of the sorts of students who populated her Special Projects course. Rich. From old families. Heraldic rings and pendants adorned all of them. Most of the young men had heraldic symbols worked into their clothing, proclaiming their lines.

Picking through the selection of cheeses, she wondered if any of them would actually use the skills she taught them. Probably not and that was just as well. She couldn't imagine them negotiating prices for the Dark work or doing some of the things she'd done. No. Somehow, it made her feel just a bit better knowing that most of what they had learned would never be used, just alluded to as threats.

The Northern District had sent not two, but three Aurors and all of them senior-level officers. Baldung was nominally in charge, but it was clear that he was more interested in chatting with the students than doing any organizing. She marveled at the difference in the man in this particular environment. Unlike the others, she rarely socialized with him. He'd changed since he'd married and not for the better in her opinion. Where he'd been lazy before, he was now a social animal. She watched him work his way through the crowd, calling each person by name and speaking what sounded like a different language although it was all in German. The usual topics of police work and magic were entirely missing in the discussions she overheard. It was all family chat.

Massys leaned against a wall as he wolfed down two plates of food. Between plates, she'd seen him rub his forehead and talk to himself. That didn't look good.

Mueller's little eyes flicked over the faces in the room sequentially. He was still very much the Auror. He didn't smile when their eyes met. It had been a fluke, she decided, and she swore to only think of him as a kid brother. With any luck, given a year or so, she could convince herself.

"Shall we begin, Professor Jones?" Heiniger was easily as excited as her students. It was, she realized uneasily, quite possibly the first time he'd ever seen Dark Arts "professionals" at work. Unfortunately, it was too late to cancel.

Clapping her hands twice, she waited for her students to turn their full attention towards her. They all looked so young and far too innocent for this sort of work. It was easy to compare them against the other professionals she'd worked with over the years. There were no red eyes, no haunted expressions, no inward turned gazes... Most of the professionals she'd talked to over the years hadn't chosen to follow the Dark Arts as a career. Like her, it had just happened. Except for Loup. Jones preferred not to query further there. Everything she heard about the other witch's background made her feel unschooled and ill-prepared.

"Divide up into four groups of five," she commanded. The class must have discussed this part earlier because the four groups came together within seconds. Before she had a chance to pair them with an Auror or a professor, Dieter spoke. "Frau Professor, have areas or floors been decided for this exercise?" Dieter's hand fluttered to his shoulder, fingers twitching shiny black within expensive gloves.

"The first and second floors are acceptable," Heiniger said, taking a step forward, placing himself just ahead of Jones.

It was hard not to snarl at him. If he were Rabe, she wouldn't have had a problem at all, but he wasn't. Unlike her Dark Arts department head, Heiniger commanded respect naturally. He smelled more and more to her like an Auror, one of them.

"Professor Jones had indicated that some of the lower levels would be within bounds as well." Dieter inclined his head as if bowing in respect. His dark eyes glittered at her from beneath his brows. There was something on those lower floors that she knew would be that dangerous word and a half: intriguing.

"We had discussed this earlier, Professor Heiniger. I agreed that the first lower level would be part of the exercise." Jones had to fight to keep her voice light. Heiniger, still excited by the novelty of the situation, missed the tight sound. Mueller and Massys both looked sideways at her and then correlated their unspoken results with each other.

"If you have already done so, then of course. Yes. The first lower level is also within bounds." Heiniger raised his hand, ready to make the assignments.

"Frau Professor," Dieter intoned, sounding even more sepulchral than usual.

"I'm going with Herr Hasse and his team." Without looking at anyone but Dieter, Jones walked forward and, from a habit almost stuffed away, reached into her pocket to pull out her gloves. Unlike the rest, hers were worn and stained, a professional's tools.

"The coat, Frau Professor," Dieter murmured, extending a hand. "You should dress as you did when you were actively working for the Dark. For you are a professional still, are you not?"

It bordered on too familiar and Jones stopped to stare at him. Dieter's smile might have been called seductive had it been for her and not the chase. In a way, that was more enticing. There was a game to be played that he wasn't telling her about and something a little bit wild and dark answered back. "I'll want it protected. It is my uniform here, as a teacher."

"Upon my honor as a Hasse, it will not be touched." Dieter folded the coat up and placed it on a chair. Stepping to one side, he drew his wand. "Please note, a family heirloom."

Jones' attention fixed on his wand. Most of the "modern" ones were sleek affairs made of polished wood shafts and frequently had what could laughingly be called an ergonomic handle carved to fit a grip. Dieter's wand was like black silk that had been knotted and twisted yet straight.

"My great grandfather had it fashioned in a place that no longer exists. It was my great honor that it chose me to be able to use it. It is quite unique." Dieter's lips quirked into the most twisted smile she had ever seen. He had outdone himself with the makeup. His lips had been painted black. "Occulere et Munimentum Hasse vox Jones."

"Interesting. I got the hide and safeguard part, but what's with the names?" Jones asked while watching her coat disappear and the chair look as though it was empty.

"It is a variant taught to me by my Uncle Alwin. Its complexity is in its simplicity."

"Don't be coy, Dieter." She folded her arms, clearly unwilling to walk a step further until he explained.

"Ah, so sorry, Professor. It is my way to say and yet not say. Unlike many of my classmates, I intend to continue onward with my studies in the Dark Arts. I am not the eldest son so my destiny is not foretold."

"What, you don't have a marriage arranged for you and a life of luxury to lead?"

Dieter's hand fluttered to his shoulder. Jones realized he'd spent time perfecting the pose to go along with the rest of his look. "I am contracted to marry, yes. I will enjoy my freedom while I can. She will not be of age for several years."

The room had emptied of everyone except her group. Jones gave into the need for a prop and pulled out her cigarettes. "Cast a breeze, will you? I need a cigarette after I eat." It tasted wonderful, even better because it was against the rules and because her five eager students all scrambled to cast the smell away. Even Dieter's poise cracked as he raced to please.

"Look, I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm going to say it anyway. If you're serious about pursuing the Dark Arts as a profession, you do it alone. The life expectancy in this job isn't high. Many of the spells people are willing to pay for chip away at you. That's the name for them, the soul chippers. There are ways around that, of course, but most people won't provide a part of their own soul for their petty evils. They'll pay extra, of course, but that doesn't do you much good. I've heard some claim that you can regain your soul or it repairs itself. Hell, I don't even know if the soul part is true, but I've seen the physical effects and it isn't pretty. The Dark always wants a price. Always. If it was easy, everyone would do it because the human spirit is a vindictive thing and we all hate someone at some time. You can't drag someone else into that. Not because it isn't fair. Life isn't fair. You can't drag someone into that because they're a liability." She took a long drag and tapped the ash off. "You should think about it. Think hard. Look at me. Look at the rest of the faculty here. Go to Paris. I hear they have a big Dark Arts thing going there. Go to the States. I can probably give you a couple of names of people to talk to, assuming they're still alive. It sounds a lot sexier than it is."

Dieter's mouth set into a pout. It wasn't what he had expected or wanted to hear.

"See, I told you so," Rangnhilde Johanssen said. Rangnhilde towered over Dieter, a blonde blaze next to his darkness. "We learn these things to protect our family and its honor. We pay the lesser ones well to fall for us."

It wasn't the right thing to say in front of her, but Jones thought that Rangnhilde had summed it up quite well. "Ok, let's get to work. We have about an hour left."

* * *

Fascinating

, she thought, watching the five carefully set out a series of spells. Most were simple hexes, designed for humiliation rather than serious harm. Rangnhilde set up a series along the corridor leading to the lower stairway as well as a clever shocking spell calculated to go off when hands touched the carved dragons adorning the landing. Dieter seemed preoccupied with what looked to be a long wall. Probably unhappy that I burst his pretty picture of life in the Dark lane, she mused and began wishing for another cigarette. Donata Kiel and Hulda Schmidt took no chances and boobytrapped the only bathroom on that level - all terrible joke spells. Sven Eriksson decided to use his time for more practical applications and set up traps. Jones was impressed. Sven made a study of the corridor and chose areas where a trapped person would be an obstacle for pursuers. To her, it looked like he had had practice.

Massys appeared silently next to her, still rubbing at his forehead. "All done?"

"Is it time?" she asked, only giving him a quick glance. The head rubbing bothered her. He looked as though he were in pain.

"A few more minutes at most. Professor Heiniger sent me to inform you. What have they accomplished?"

"Quite a bit." Jones tried to keep the smile off her face. They had made her quite proud, actually. Without having years of practical experience to burden them, their approach to many of their spells had been innovative.

"Is there anything we should be worried about? Do we need to fetch a Healer in case something goes wrong?"

"Only if you want to see her," Jones snapped, annoyed at what could be construed as a dig that she might not have kept her students in line.

"Ah. No." Massys sounded hurt and he turned away, still rubbing at his head.

Watching him leave, his dark uniform blending into the shadows, she felt guilty. There hadn't been a real need to snap at him like that. He probably meant nothing.

"He is the one they speak of," Sven said. "I hear he burns inside."

"Too much." Dieter's pale face seemed to hover in the gloom detached from a body.

"That is what happens with freaks." Hulda lifted her head haughtily and sneered. "I have heard that the Ministry found him while looking for someone else. His magic caught their surveillance spells. He is an abomination."

"Hey!" Jones spun to face them, suddenly furious. "You have no right to talk about him like that. I'll have you know that he's easily the most powerful man on that force and he's a nice guy, too. And," she continued, her voice deepening and growing to fill the entire corridor, "he's a friend of mine and I will not tolerate you talking about him like that. Do you understand!"

The five looked startled and properly admonished, at least for a few seconds. "But, Frau Professor, he is a Mudblood." Hulda said the last as if it was dirty word.

"And what am I? Think carefully before you answer because I will take it personally."

"You are our professor. The Institute must think highly of you to employ you. You could not be of similar lines." Hulda narrowed her eyes at Jones as if evaluating her. "No. You are not a Mudblood. Perhaps not even a half-blood. Your line is old."

"You can tell that just by looking at me?" Jones didn't believe one word of it, smelling the need to make nice before she lost her temper.

"Of course," Hulda said, waving a hand dismissively. The others all nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. Right. Ok, let's go back. You all first." She waited until they passed her and made it to the staircase. From the gloom of the lower level they walked upwards to a brighter main floor. While they ascended, Jones made a mental note to warn Wronski. There was something spiteful in this particular batch of students that she had known but never quite seen until just now. If ever there was a Mudblood, it was her friend.

* * *

The Detection and Dispersal students were already there when she reentered the room. Feeling out of sorts, she barely nodded at them as she headed towards the chair that her coat had last been seen in. "Dieter," she called in a voice that would brook no insolence. Dieter glided over to stand next to her. "Coat," she said, turning away from him. Dieter behaved as an appropriately disciplined student should. He broke the enchantment and handed her coat to her with a low bow and then bowed again, this time deeply, hand limply at his shoulder. For what it was worth, her temper spread through her Special Projects students. Most already were prickly, no doubt from being held in check by a team of Aurors and Heiniger, but seeing Jones in a snit subdued them further.

Tugging on the long red leather coat put things into perspective. She wasn't a working Dark practitioner any more. These days, she was a teacher. Her coat rustled with bunched up candy wrappers as if laughing at the thought. A teacher, dammit!

"Professor Jones," Heiniger called out, hand raised to wave her over to him. Standing with the Aurors around him, Heiniger was firmly in charge. The sight did little to improve her mood. "We have been comparing observations on the amount of work the Special Projects course has put into this exercise and we feel that they have exceeded our expectations." Heiniger nodded to each man, looking serious until he turned to face her and then his face split into a huge grin. "This is exciting, Professor Jones! Truly. There is so much to be done that I feel we should bring all twenty of the students together as a group and work our way through all of the floors as a unit. It may take longer, but it will also encourage these fine young men and women to cooperate as future Aurors must." Heiniger beamed at the determined and eager faces of the students yet to start their work.

Jones knew she wouldn't be able to change his mind and it hardly seemed worth the effort to fight about it. "Of course. Where shall we start?"

As Heiniger turned back to the Aurors, Jones noticed Dieter whose now annoying fluttering fingers at his shoulder were practically drumming a tempo. "Yes?"

"Professor, it would be most interesting if our level was to be done last. I believe it would be of most interest. To you."

"Really?" Jones tried to read meaning in Dieter's vagaries, but gave up. "Ok. Why not?" She turned to see that Heiniger was still discussing the exercise's order. "Professor Heiniger, wouldn't it be simplest to start at the top and work down?"

Heiniger stopped in mid sentence and blinked at her. "Of course! Come, everyone! We will begin on the second floor. Go!" He waved his hands as if chasing geese and the very eager Detection students, pads of paper and pens clutched in their hands, raced out the door. Heiniger followed close behind. Baldung loitered, clearly preferring to talk to the students from the last class. Jones overheard the words "nephew", "Summer Ball" and "marriage". No doubt, there was some sort of secret pure-blood family thing going on. Massys and Mueller waited by the door for her to catch up.

"Thank you," Massys said, looking pained.

"For what?"

"For being a friend." Massys pulled himself up straight and, after a half bow, headed towards the main staircase.

"Your voice carries," Mueller growled.

Jones stared, puzzled and then realized what he was talking about. "He's a good guy. They shouldn't talk about him like that." Hoping that was enough, she walked towards the stairs. Mueller easily kept up with her, taking one step to every two or three of hers. "Is he ok?"

"Auror Massys is an anomaly. He is the only wizard I have met who has too much magical energy within himself."

"Peterson," Jones said, remembering her nemesis. Roy Peterson leaked power like some people sweat. If Peterson had anything alcoholic to drink, it was worse. She'd felt it crawl over her skin. The prickling sensation had been one of his many creepy abilities. "Peterson is like Massys, only more contained. Isn't there any sort of Diminuere sort of spell that would work for him? It looks like it eats at him."

Mueller shook his head. "That sort of work requires a great deal of expertise and strength. The casting wizard must be able to equal the power of the one whose power is being reduced or contained. It is not a permanent spell, either, unless the power is actually cut away and placed into something else."

"They do it at home. I've seen it. Peterson stripped a man of his power and left him a shell. I know it can be done."

"Too dangerous. It is better he merely drinks."

By the time they reached the landing for the second floor, the exercise had already commenced. She found a bench along the wall and watched while her class went to work. Her students were still in the tentative stages, cautious and slow with their magic. They cast very localized spells, creeping forward a few feet at a time. Jones sighed and closed her eyes.

"Is there a window that opens close by?"

Opening her eyes, she saw Mueller, his head tilted at an odd over the shoulder angle. It reminded her of times at the tavern when he would do that. "You need a cigarette?"

Mueller closed his eyes and puffed out a sigh. "It has been hours. I do not know how you can stand it."

"I cheated. Had my kids cast a dispersal spell for the smoke. Otherwise, I'd be a screaming maniac by now." The idea of getting Mueller to do something that broke a rule appealed to her. "There's a staff bathroom down the hall with a window that opens to the outside. Wanna join me?" Not waiting for an answer, she caught Heiniger's eye and jerked her head towards the direction of the bathroom. Heiniger nodded and immediately went back to observing the very slow, very cautious exercise. Mueller waited until everyone's attention was firmly fixed on the students' progress and followed.

The bathroom was large enough for several stalls and had a convenient ledge underneath the window. Leaning there, she waited for Mueller to figure out the complex latch. She could only reach it by teetering on the narrow sill, something she had tried once and had almost fallen. Mueller could manipulate it without stretching. Once the window was open, she tapped out cigarettes and produced her lighter. Feeling as though she was back in high school, smoking in the girls' bathroom, she enjoyed the distinctly rebellious feeling.

Mueller wedged himself against the other side of the window and smoked his cigarette slowly. He scanned her carefully. "Are you still angry with me?"

Jones finished hers a second later. "Angry? I'm not angry with you. Where did you get that idea?"

"You left my party after I...." Mueller looked uncomfortable and chose instead to concentrate on pitching the cigarette butt out the window. Jones handed him hers.

"Hey, it's ok. You had a lot to drink that night." It wasn't ok, but she couldn't figure out how to ask any of the simple questions that plagued her. Wasn't it supposed to get easier when you got older? How come basic human emotions always engendered complicated questions and actions?

The corner of his mouth twitched briefly into a smile. "Come, there will be talk if we are gone too long."

She doubted that anyone would have noticed. The class had barely advanced when they returned. "How long has it been?" she asked.

Massys, never looking away from the students, said, "It has been an hour. I should think we would allow them to finish this floor at their current speed before we show them any quicker alternatives."

"At this rate, they won't finish the first group's area until midnight." Her eyes felt itchy. It couldn't have been much past nine. Visions of finishing with the dawn haunted her.

"It is best they master the techniques you have taught them. They are very slow at many of the additional spells to increase the usability of the Exhibeo." Massys shrugged. "I have no other plans for the evening."

"Another Friday night of fun," she muttered, wishing she'd brought a book to read or had thought her plan through enough to limit the number of groups. So much for a simple, fun assignment.

The students did need practice. They had all mastered the basic spell, but all of the additions worked, at best, occasionally. Jones wondered what the problem was. Heiniger didn't seem disappointed in the least. Instead, he cheered them on until, at very long last, they finished the first area.

The students trudged back, clearly dejected at their results. All the bright, shining faces looked dulled and weary. Jones felt a stab of sympathy, but only one.

"Must we finish the rest?" one red-eyed girl asked.

"Of course! The Dark does not rest because you are tired!" Heiniger clapped the poor girl on the shoulder hard enough to tumble her to her knees. "Up! The next area is close. You!" He pointed at a fierce-looking dark boy. "It is your task to find it. Go!" Heiniger was kind enough to point in the correct direction.

As they passed the bathroom, she considered stopping in again for another smoke, but Mueller pushed her forward. Misery loves company.

The second section looked to be a repeat of the first, only worse as most of the students felt inadequate to their task. When Heiniger left for his turn at the faculty bathroom, Massys spent five minutes demonstrating a different variation. Tired eyes gleamed. In those few moments, the group regained its energy and determination to face anything the Dark could bring. It still took a lot of practice to perfect the new information, but the results spurred them on. They located spells and hexes, a few joke spells - all much quicker than before. The class' excitement grew until the inevitable happened and someone triggered a spell. Jones bit her lip to keep from lecturing about procedure. Heiniger seemed in a similar state. Only Massys mentioned that the results bought by speed were frequently offset by other side effects.

The "side effects" were lessons all unto themselves. One unlucky lad's hair fanned out in a spiky array of feathers on one side and he had scales over his face and hands. There were two beaks instead of noses and one person had the misfortune of triggering a spell that had been set on top of an older one, sealing a girl's nose and mouth shut. The poor girl had to be cast into a deep sleep to keep her from running off. Heiniger seized center stage, casting counter curses and spell after spell until everything was normal again. The hex was broken in pieces. The girl's nails had gone blue before a nostril was unsealed. The concentration of the class was shattered.

To give everyone a chance to regain their calm, Mueller offered a demonstration of how the Aurors would approach a similar search. Jones pushed her way to the front of the group to watch. The tired students prepared to take notes while Mueller produced the standard Auror detection grid and then cast a sequence of spells. Symbols winked into place on the grid. While Mueller worked, Massys lectured. Jones tried to memorize everything. Mueller's muttering was difficult to understand normally and, with Massys speaking, she couldn't hear enough to even make a guess at which spells were being utilized. She even tried peering at some of her students' notes. There was a brief lull while Mueller tried to set an add-on charm to show the relative age of the spells shown. The spell was not being cooperative and Mueller's nicotine deprivation shortened his temper.

Claiming loudly that it was his turn, Massys shooed the big man away. Jones had heard the stories, but had never seen Massys work. All that power that made his mind ache flowed in ways she'd never seen before. He didn't need a wand to focus and direct the energies. She'd seen adepts of that nature before and had always been envious. Raw energy she could manage, but not the delicate work that most magic required a wand to refine. Massys had another trick: he could keep more than one spell active at the same time. Jones was awed and a little humbled. As she watched him reset parts of the grid and, when Heiniger's attention wavered, fix the beaks and scales, she kept thinking about Rangnhilde's jibes about the Mudblood. Mudblood Massys and his endless stream of magic. Top that with your pure bloodlines! By the end of the demonstration, the crowd was ready to face anything. Jones wasn't. She fantasized about getting a night's sleep.

The third area had been one that Mueller had supervised. The paucity of spells could be attributed to his caution. It was there that Heiniger demonstrated a wide-area Exhibeo variant. It would miss many things, but for quick detection, it was quite successful. Somewhere during the third area, the bells tolled midnight, the last hour they would ring until six the next morning.

Little by little, people drifted in to watch. Jones kept an eye on the growing number of new faces and noted with some amusement that almost all of them were from her Special Projects course plus a few from her Blood Rites courses. The Special Projects students had all arrived by the time Heiniger was ready to demonstrate his spell. She was amused when Veronika made a point of yawning afterward.

Even with a thinly bespelled area for her students to work in, progress on the third area was slow. The brief jolt of excitement had faded with the bells. All of the participants were getting tired. The crowd muttered amongst itself. Jones' head began to nod. A quick bump of Mueller's elbow into her side woke her. Feeling guilty about dozing off, she quickly scanned to see if anyone else had noticed. Mueller shook his head. "Only for a few minutes," he assured her.

Pushing her shoulders back into a stretch, Jones looked for something to do. Anything to wake her up. Most of the groups were finishing up their drawings. The mysterious "standard symbols" turned out to be just that - the standard symbols found in dozens of spell books. So much for hoping for an insight in to how the Aurors worked. A yawn fought its way out. Before another could join it, she wandered to the end of the hallway where the Detection class was working. Next to a doorway, three students bent over something. About a foot above the ground, she could see the standard glow put off by the Exhibeo, although this was a little bit different. It had a shape. Her brain refused to work properly but she knew that most of the add-on spells changed the way the presence of other magic was displayed.

"Did you record it?" she asked, fighting against another impending yawn.

"Auror Massys thought that students at our level should be able to identify it." The frustration the young man felt layered his words. "I have gone through our text from the seventh-year Defense Against the Dark Arts course, but I cannot find anything that shows me what this is."

Rubbing her face, she squatted down next to them. Tired eyes refused to focus and an even wearier mind went blank. The dull blue glow flickered, twinkling into entwined lines and then winking away. Not much to go on. Unable to recognize it herself, she asked, "Did you try any of the additive spells?"

"Of course! This is the best reaction we have achieved. Frau Professor, what do you see?"

Jones was afraid they would ask. She only used an Exhibeo when she expected something, not if she was trying to identify it. All she really cared about was if a spell had been placed there. To do any real sleuthing would require more work, enchantments her tired brain didn't feel much up to remembering. "That isn't the point of this exercise. All you were supposed to do is find them. Identifying them comes later." Hollow promise since she had never really focused on identification in her lectures and hoped to avoid the entire concept before the new professor was hired.

"Yes, but..." Shoulders hunched and brow furrowed, the student touched his wand to the glow. It was, in retrospect, a mistake. The hallway exploded in stars. The effect could have been charming, but instead the light pulsed brighter and brighter, blinding everyone whose eyes hadn't shut in time.

Eyes watering, Jones blinked her way to flashy vision. "Never active a spell if you don't know what it does," she managed between gritted teeth.

All three of the Detection students were slumped over, eyes watering. The face of the boy, who'd been too quick to poke, was blotched with shiny red patches. Serves him right, she thought and enjoyed hearing him whimper when he touched his face. In the midst of the soft sounds of pain and anger, she heard a chuckle and a long hum of contentment. Squinting and ducking to look around the annoying bright spots, she traced the sounds to a group clad artistically in black. Two blinks, then opening her eyes wide, she could identify faces. Against the wall, two of her Special Projects students leaned. Both were wearing very dark glasses and, when she locked her watering eyes onto them, they held up what looked to be wineglasses, toasted her and drank. Before the bright spots obscured them, she could see Dieter's signet ring flutter bright against his shoulder. Using the wall as a support, she hauled herself up. Her vision still had bright spots but her brain, looking for something to worry at, yattered on about whether there were rules about the students having alcohol. The internal debate seemed like background noise while she concentrated on seeing properly. What had those two been drinking and what were the rules? Rules? Hadn't she just broken the rules by sneaking a cigarette inside the castle? Not the same thing a sulky part of her said.

"The reaction is over. You may open your eyes again." Massys paced from student to student, bending over the ones who stared blankly at nothing, touching their eyes and murmuring a counter spell.

"Let's proceed to the next level," Jones yelled. Let's just get this over with. Let's call it a night and crawl into bed. The rabble of students began stomping down the stairs to the first lower level. She could tell when the first ones arrived by the shrieks. Rangnhilde's little shocking spell welcomed the unlucky hunters into the lower level. Involuntarily, her mouth jerked in a grin. Juvenile application, but funny in a cruel way. At the end of the line, she fell in, rubbing her eyes and feeling particularly cranky. No cigarettes for hours, dinner seemed like years ago and her feet hurt. Whose bright idea was this anyway? Each time she slowed too much, Mueller would obligingly tap her on the back. It was gentle, but the touch startled her each time.

While they waited for the gaggle of students to descend the last set of stairs, Massys stopped next to them. "How is your vision?"

"Blurry still. Stupid kids."

"You must remember to tell Chief Auror Werner how valuable our services were," Massys mumbled, eyes fixed on the line of the students. As the last started on his way down, Massys looked at her. "Close your eyes and do not flinch. I will only touch you for a moment. I will take nothing."

"Very professional of you. Are you sure you never worked the Dark Arts professionally?"

"I understand the rules well. It is a sign of trust for you to allow me to aid you. Now, if you please." Looking pale and weary, Massys raised his hand in a loose salute and waited.

Completely charmed, she closed her eyes. The touch felt like almost nothing; the spell was more like a soft intake of breath. The view, when she opened her eyes, had improved immensely. The annoying bright dots of light had vanished as well as the awful gritty feeling. Massys was gone before she could thank him. Mueller was still there, though, leaning against the balustrade, watching her as though he was analyzing everything. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

Wronski's chore in life at times seemed to be keeping her tidy. She waited expectantly for Mueller, her supposed new baby brother, to wipe away whatever it was he was looking at. Instead, he just quirked a grin and gently turned her towards stair.

Yawning and thinking about sleep, she thudded down the stone staircase. Tomorrow, she would sleep in, read a trashy novel, do some laundry, maybe grade a few assignments. Her feet twinged with each step as she scuffed down the last few stairs, careful to take her hand off the railing to avoid the shock that had been cast onto the stone carvings. There was a mob standing around the base of the stairs. Too quiet and still, she knew something was wrong. In the gloom of the long corridor, Dieter's white makeup made him stand out like a ghost. When she caught his eye, his crooked grin crawled across his face in a most unpleasant way. Someone groaned thickly. Mueller pushed by her and parted the crowd like an icebreaker; she followed in his wide wake.

There, on the floor, a student knelt, hugging what looked to be a blank wall. He was very, very drunk. The thick groan wracked his frame. With effort, he raised his head. "Let me in. I paid." His upper body swayed as he braced his arms against the wall. "Open! I am a Mandrot!" At the last, he tried hammering a fist against the wall and overbalanced himself, sliding face first against the wall into a heap.

"What's behind the wall?" Jones demanded. Her Dark Arts students looked like cats watching prey. "You," she said, pointing at the first Detection and Dispersal student, "go to work here. I want the whole wall checked. Map it all. The rest of you, you're here for a class exercise. Move it!"

Muttering and growling, the rest of the class began their share of the work while Jones leaned against the wall where the unlucky girl who'd been in just the right place began her survey. The methodology was precise. Quadrants were marked by little light charms and crudely gridded into smaller sections. The student worked each of the sections separately in an eight-foot area on either side of the unconscious boy and found nothing. The wall was blank. No sign of any magic. Halfway through, Jones began chewing on her thumbnail, wanting to start her own examination. Heiniger, sensing something, undoubtedly something far nobler than what she felt, hovered at her shoulder, bouncing on the balls of his feet in his eagerness to see the outcome.

"Break it." She turned towards Mueller who stood with Massys by the balustrade. "There's something there. Break it."

"Why do you think there is something there?" Heiniger's question was purely for the audience. "Would you share with us your reasoning for such a request, Professor Jones?"

A dozen sarcastic replies had to be shut down before she could find one that didn't involve profanity or a question regarding Heiniger's intelligence. It was a lesson for the students, not the Aurors and especially not her. But she had to know. Dieter had set this up for her to find. All of her Special Projects students knew what was going on. Curiosity. It would kill her some day, but not now, not with all these witnesses. "Point one, Professor Heiniger, the student speaking to the wall. Point two, the absolute lack of any trace of magic for a long expanse of hallway."

Heiniger's response was his maddening bouncing. Mueller and Massys were statues. None of the three was going to offer any suggestions or do anything. Jones could swear she heard the absent Werner laugh. If she wanted to know, she was going to have to do it herself. Heiniger began to smile. It was no longer any use to try and pretend she didn't have to know what was going on. Anyone who knew her would know it was driving her mad. Glaring at Heiniger and beyond him at the two Aurors, she tugged her wand out and faced the wall. "Patefacere!" Nothing. "Sentir Vires!" A slight shimmer. "There is something."

"The last only detects a power. The power could be anything." Massys stepped forward. "By your leave, Professor." As Jones backed away, Massys produced the basic Auror detection grid to cast its green light against the gloom. Unlike the other times she'd seen the demonstration, the grid pulsed steadily brighter. Hints of things shone and disappeared. Others flashed into view only to dissolve in a shower of muted lights. Stronger, harsher the spell went through some sort of iterative process until the wall shone as a solid layer of light and a central strong image appeared. Dark in color and quite stylized, it started from a point, spread outwards from the center in broad, wing-like shapes and then narrowed again. "Intricate work. Overdone as many of these sorts of things are." Massys crouched down in front of the display, staring at a segment.

"Does it look well established, Auror?" Dieter's voice snaked through the crowd.

"Very well established, as if it has been reset many times over the years. As magic degrades with time, my first thought would be that the wards, for the symbols for a kind of ward appeared several times during the procedure, were being reinforced, but there is more than that. There are three, if not four, levels of concealment. There is also a recognition glyph. Did you see it at the last?" Massys looked over his shoulder at Mueller who grunted in response. "We have seen similar constructs before. There is other work, some of it archaic, that is part of the whole. An interesting puzzle."

"Would you say it needs further investigation?" Too eager at the first, Dieter caught himself and managed at the end to sound bored.

"What's behind the spells?" Jones asked. Turning towards the sound of Dieter's voice, the first thing she noticed was that the Dark Arts students had congregated into a group. The smirks and intense stares enhanced the appearance of cats. Someone unpopular with the group was about to get into trouble. The rest of her students stood in untidy clumps, riveted to the scene in an exhausted sort of way. It was late and her patience had ended. "I'd like to see what's behind there."

Massys and Mueller both looked uncomfortable. "We will need authorization from Auror Baldung before we can proceed."

"Where is he?" Heiniger bounced again onto the balls of his feet and looked over the group. "I had thought he was a part of this exercise."

"Josef is taking a nap." Veronika languidly waved towards the staircase. "When last I saw him, he had settled into the couch in the office where dinner was served."

Josef? Jones both wanted to ask and didn't want to know. "Go get him."

"Of course, Professor Jones." Veronika, a swirl of elegant dark robes, glided across the floor in quest of the missing Auror.

Catching Mueller's eye, Jones mouthed, "Josef?" The corner of Mueller's mouth sank in reply. She thought that Massys looked irritated. While they waited, Massys began rubbing at his forehead again. Without something to focus on, whatever was bothering him had returned.

Baldung arrived in record time and was still buttoning his jacket when he joined them. "Veronika has informed me that my authorization is required?" Aware of his status as the one in command, he nodded at both professors and the other Aurors in turn, taking his time. "And what is it that you need?"

"I want the spells that are concealing whatever's behind them broken," Jones ordered. While she glared at him, he made a show of studying the now blank grid and then squatted down next to the boy.

"He is drunk. Hardly a matter of concern for the Northern District Auror office. This is matter that the Institute itself should deal with." As if divorcing himself from the matter, Baldung stood and dusted his hands of the matter.

Veronika, after a sharp prod from Dieter spoke. "Oh, cousin Josef, truly the matter should be investigated." Jones noted the glares that disintegrated into thin smiles within her Special Projects students.

Not swayed by a request from a professor, Baldung was easily moved by one from a cousin. "Of course." He bowed in the direction of Veronika and, as soon as he finished, snapped his fingers. "Make it so."

For some reason, Jones had assumed that the Aurors would make short work of whatever was there. It took time and repeated assaults; even then, it looked like the magics would hold. Massys and Mueller used brutal magic, the sort that sent ripples of backlash through skin and groin. Magic that was meant to tear, to destroy, was what was called. Ugly, but eventually effective. Layers frayed under the onslaught. Tempers shredded equally.

Mueller had the reputation of being the Northern Region's breaker. Jones had watched him work before and knew he was more than competent. Perhaps it was the lack of cigarettes or the late hour, but the big man seemed to be in the way more often than he was helping. Massys was the one to watch. Expending huge quantities of energy, Massys chipped and pulled at the fabric of the spells until a white pattern of sparks showed once, then twice, then exploded something, Jones had no idea what, and the dam cracked. It should have fallen then, but it didn't. Before the last layers were crushed, the spell parted.

The first clue was the music. Wagner would have been appropriate during such a battle, but instead it was a repetitive electronic mix, a sound of the present throbbing in Durmstrang's stone halls. The next was the smell, familiar after a bit, a scent of her own wild teen days. She looked over at Heiniger whose bushy gray eyebrows threatened to merge with his hair. Then, it was as if someone had turned on the lights. A room appeared. All at once and in what seemed like a bright bluish flash.

The chamber wasn't large and it looked smaller with the crowd gathered there. The furnishings were a combination of the old, the new and the battered. Carved medieval chests shared quarters with modern plastic chairs and a tall fifteenth century Gothic chair. Long boards set on top of trestles were covered with bottles. Jones noted plates of things being snatched up and stuffed into sleeves or tucked under cloaks. The crowd was very elite. Seated in the Gothic chair was Heinrich Adler, one leg slung over a chair arm, a glass of something in his hand. Adler's cronies, their girlfriends, Quidditch jocks from all of the boys' teams and the girls' teams, an assortment of other rich types... It seemed as though most of the "in crowd" seventh year students, with the exception of those in the hallway (the lesser nobility?) had found something entertaining to do with their Fridays.

"Welcome!" Adler called out. He lifted his glass in a toast and then waved them in. "You have at last found this. Surprising that it took so long." Sophisticated chuckles croaked out of slack faces. "Please, do come in. We have refreshments for all of our guests."

"How long has this," Baldung pointed about the room, "been in place?"

"Since my grandfather, perhaps longer. Surely you must have known about it when you attended Durmstrang?" Baldung's blank face said no. Adler added, "Ah, no matter. You are here now. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

"This can't be legal, can it?" Jones slid a look over at Heiniger who appeared to be locked in a similar debate.

"Come now, Professor Jones, a glass of cognac?" Adler, caught in his lair, played the host. With a gesture, two of his retainers picked up trays, filled them with glasses, picked up a few bottles and then walked out into the crowd.

"No thanks." Impressed and disgusted, she surveyed the room. "This is against the rules." An automatic dig, one was answered quickly.

"There is no drinking age." Adler made a show of swirling the liquor in his glass before taking a sip.

"There is. It is eighteen." Massys held a hand up to shield his eyes from the light in the room. After the shadows of the hallway, the lighting charms seared eyes.

"It is not enforced. Here." Still smiling, Adler swung his leg off the chair arm and stood. He could have been a portrait. Dressed in purple and silver splendor with one of his retainers standing by his elbow, he should have been holding court. Of course, he was doing just that. Ever the gracious noble, he handed his glass to his retainer and sauntered forward, thumbs stuck insolently into the grand belt bearing his family's eagle and crossed wands. "The work, impressive, no?" He stopped inches from a very tired Jones who had to crane her neck to look him in the eye.

"There was a lot of it," she conceded. An ache settled into her neck, but she refused to back up a step to ease it.

"My family is, of course, quite well known for its skill and power." Adler had the gall to bend forward. The gesture was condescending rather than familiar. Jones' hands balled into fists. "Much of the work was undoubtedly new to you. One such as you would not have seen it before."

Before she had a chance to counterattack, Massys stepped forward, rubbing his forehead. As soon as Adler's attention shifted, Mueller reached out and pulled her back two steps. "Herr Adler, the glyph that displayed at the end, that is unique to your family, no?" Massys asked.

"Excellent observation!" Adler, face flushed from a bit too much to drink, swelled at the recognition. "Yes, it has been within my family's magic for centuries. You have not seen anything like it before, have you?" Eyes slightly slitted, he turned towards his cronies, radiating superiority.

"Actually, yes I have. That particular glyph is in our records. I have read reports of it." Massys quit rubbing his forehead and placed his hands behind him. Jones could see them twist together and become still. "Interesting in its usage. Normally, such things are placed first, not last. The ownership of such a thing is meant to be known, not hidden."

Adler's smirk faltered. "You have seen my family's symbol before?" He stared intently at Massys and then smiled. "Ah, you are the one I have heard of. Fascinating!" In an exaggerated swagger, he circled the Auror, making a survey from head to toe. "Is it true what they say?"

Massys went rigid. Jones heard Mueller growl and, from the corner of her eye, saw Baldung's mouth set. At least Heiniger had quit bouncing. All emotion left Massys' voice. "Perhaps you would care to inform me what they say."

"I have never seen one of you. Most interesting." Adler snapped his fingers and a retainer brought his drink back. "Erich here is a Squib. His line is a noble one, but those who cannot...." Ignoring Erich's tense posture, Adler played with his glass, more interested in using it as prop than drinking the alcohol within. "You, you are...." Making a show of searching for just the right word, the great nobleman's face contorted into a mockery of concentration.

"If you put that much thought into your studies, you wouldn't have to cheat." Angry both for herself and for Massys, Jones allowed herself the jibe.

"Professor Jones, dear professor, you should not speak to me in such a way." Adler handed his glass back to the sullen Erich. "It is not your place to scold me. Surely, you have learned that by now. Tsk tsk." Smiling broadly to his audience, Adler stepped forward again, trying to regain the too close proximity. Jones met him half way, startling him back a step. It took him but a second to recover. "Now, dear professor, it is kind of you to distract me from Auror Massys although he does fascinate me. How often does a truly great power emerge from, please excuse the term for it is quite vulgar, Mudbloods? They are nothing. Such freaks are rare. Now, power from those such as yourself, those of the half-caste lines..."

Jones quit listening. Everything in the room seemed to fade away and only Adler remained. She watched how he moved, how he held himself, counted how often he leaned from side to side as he addressed his adoring audience and realized that she wanted to deal with him then and now. It would be simple. In this light, she could make it look like a heart attack or a stroke. Old working habits clicked. He'd been drinking, possibly indulging in something from those plates and bowls that had been hidden. Adler could have an accident. A blood vessel could explode in his head. A good blast of undefined energy just so.... And then Mueller caught her elbow and pulled her away.

"It is time we left," he growled into her ear.

"Why don't you go?" She jerked her elbow back and glared at him.

Mueller's mouth set into a hard line.

"Can't you do something about him?" She pointed at Adler who stood laughing with his cronies. "I know that rules are being broken there."

"Auror Baldung," Mueller sighed, shoulders slumping. He said it just loud enough to catch Baldung's attention.

"Yes? What is it?" Baldung's lean form narrowed in agitation.

"Professor Jones," Mueller mumbled, "wishes us to fix charges upon Herr Adler." As soon as Mueller started talking, it was clear that no such thing would happen. The short sentence had a singsong quality about it as if it was said by rote and not believed.

"For what?" Baldung sneered. "For having a few drinks? A small party? There is no enforced drinking age here."

"There is in the village," Mueller countered, not sounding the least bit convincing.

"The village is not in the same political boundary as the actual location of the Institute. There, the laws are different. You know that." Baldung glowered at Mueller and more so at Jones. "This is foolish. We will take no action. What infraction would we charge? No, this very same thing has been going on for centuries. Why is it important now?"

It had a sort of logic to it that even Jones couldn't argue. The only reason it was important now was because the incredibly annoying Adler was involved in it. "What about...." she started.

"No evidence," Mueller countered.

"You could search," she tried.

"No. Not without a warrant."

"I will issue none," Baldung sniped and, turning on his heel, stalked off towards his cousin and her friends.

"They can do whatever they want? They can say whatever they want to say? Insult whomever they want? You'll do nothing about it?" Each of her questions grew a little louder.

"Rose," Mueller groaned. "There is nothing official we can do. Now, leave it be." When she tried to leave, he reached out, catching her arm. "You will need to learn how to work with men such as Adler." He nodded towards the victor. "It is their families who run things. It has always been that way."

"Maybe here, but not where I'm from." She tried tugging her arm free, but Mueller grabbed tighter. "You work with them. I'm just a halfblood. They only seem to want to listen to purebloods like you."