Borrowed Time

March 3, 1970

London

8:34 pm

Weisel had just begun to zone before the Muggle television set when there was a sharp knocking at the door. Dazed he answered it to find Albus Dumbledore standing there in his periwinkle blue robes. "I'm sorry to have awaken you," he explained. "I tried to Floo in, but it seems you have your fireplace has been blocked."

"Yeah," Weisel said, "I keep it that way so to stop unwelcome visitors." He flashed a smile at Dumbledore, who returned the grin.

"May I come in?"

"Sure," Weisel said, showing Dumbledore into the living room.

Dumbledore took a seat in an armchair. "I have some things to show you," he said mildly, pulling out a folder and setting it on the coffee table.

Weisel peered at the folder with great curiosity. "What?"

Dumbledore pulled out a Muggle travel visa and British passport. The identification picture on both was Titus Mortimer. "I managed to get these from my Russian associate. I thought they might interest you."

Weisel picked the two items up. In both, Titus had used the alias "Donald Muldrake". "Does Crouch know about these?"

"No," Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid that if the Ministry were to find out that was conversing with a Russian authority, it wouldn't exactly make me popular. There was also this that he managed to give me, but he wouldn't say how he came about getting it." Dumbledore pulled out another passport, but this one was from the United States. The alias used in this one was "Armand Kurtz". He watched as Weisel's face became screwed with confusion. "As you can see, Marcus, whatever we're dealing with here is much larger than we anticipated."

"What would he be doing in these two countries?" Weisel asked.

Dumbledore shook his head. "As to that, I don't know. My Russian friend could not tell me anything more."

"I have something else to show you," Weisel began, "more photographs." From his desk drawer, he pulled out two photographs of two men talking amongst the trees. "One of our spies followed Mortimer to Hyde Park and took these." He handed them to Dumbledore, who studied them very quietly. "Do you know who the other man might be?"

For a long while, Dumbledore said nothing, but looked at the pictures with great intensity. At first, he did not want to believe what he was seeing. His eyes squinted as he tried to make the connection between the pale, dark haired man in the photo whose eyes swept about and the handsome, smart young scholar he remembered from Hogwarts. But the more he stared, the clearer that connection became. "I think so," he replied very quietly.

Weisel fidgeted with anticipation. "Who is it then?"

Dumbledore did not look up from the photographs. "Tom Marvolo Riddle," he replied in a numbed voice. "Quite possibly the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen. He graduated from Slytherin House in 1945. These photographs are the first I've seen of him since then."

"Is he dangerous?"

Dumbledore's face suddenly became very dour. "With a mind like his, I would not doubt it." Dumbledore rose from his chair. "I think that you need to show these to Crouch, as well as what I have told you about Mortimer."

"What about that information incriminating you, showing that you were with a Russian official?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "It is a risk I'm afraid that it's a risk we'll have to take. Just don't mention it until you're asked."

"I'll try."

Dumbledore headed towards the door and opened it. "What we have here may be more dangerous than we thought, Marcus. Watch your back." With that, he stepped out and Disapparated.

March 10, 1970

Ministry of Magic, London

11:23 am

Weisel did as Dumbledore told him to do. He divulged his information to Moody and then they both went to see Crouch a few days later. Needless to say, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was stunned to see what they had brought him.

"Where did you get these?" he asked as he held the travel visa and passports in his hands.

Moody and Weisel exchanged a quick glance. "An anonymous source, sir," Moody replied quickly.

"And these belong to this Mortimer person?" Crouch asked.

"Yes."

"You both realize that this is a travel visa to the Soviet Union?"

"Yes, sir," replied Weisel. "We still have yet to determine what exactly he was doing there. The same goes for his travels to the United States."

"The Americans would be interested in hearing about Mortimer," Crouch said, "considering that they may have had a Russian agent in their midst."

"They would be very much interested," Weisel continued. "I had Moody and a few of my other associates look into all the aliases that Mortimer used. The name Armand Kurtz was found among some Muggle records in London; real estate records of a property transaction for a house Little Hangleton. Another name was found along with it, a Julia Kurtz."

"We think she may be posing as his wife," Moody added.

"But we couldn't find any records on her," Weisel continued.

"So she may not even be British," Crouch said. "Well this makes things interesting, lads. I still say that we should notify the American Bureau of Magic about this. Mortimer may very well be a double agent."

"What's to say that the Americans don't already know about him?" Moody asked.

"And that he's not working for them?" Weisel added darkly.

"We'll notify them anyway," Crouch said. "It wouldn't hurt either way."

"I'll keep looking into this, then," Weisel said. "Maybe find out who this Julia Kurtz is."

"Any more word on these Death Eaters?" Crouch asked Moody.

"No," Moody replied. "It's starting to frighten me. I feel like it's a quiet before the storm."

"Let's hope it's not," Crouch mumbled absentmindedly. "I'd like you to keep surveillance on all these men. I'll see what I can do with the Americans. I may have to drag Beauclerc into it."

"Let's hope he was just there to visit family," Weisel added darkly.

4:23 pm

Nicodemus Dylan, Head of the Department of International Magical Relations, received the confidential memo from Crouch describing a meeting he wanted to arrange a meeting with American Bureau of Magic officials. Crouch wouldn't say it blatantly, but Dylan could infer that it may have something to do with a possible spy. He instantly notified his contacts at the American Embassy in London to arrange a conference with the American Magical Office of Foreign Affairs. Within a few hours, he got a reply. When he answered his office fireplace he was surprised to see that Elliot Nash, the American President of Magic, was on the other end.

Dylan was taken aback when he saw the weathered face of the President. "Hello, Mr. Nash," Dylan stammered.

Nash smiled. "Hello, Mr. Dylan. I'm sorry for not notifying you that it would be I who would answer your call. There simply wasn't enough time."

"Did you receive the information I sent to the embassy?"

"Yes, I did." The President's face suddenly became very grave. "We need for you to send us all the information your Ministry has on Titus Mortimer and Julia Kurtz. And then I need to arrange a meeting with Mr. Beauclerc."

Dylan's eyebrows shot up. "What have we stumbled upon, sir?"

Nash's eyes wandered for a moment as he contemplated answering. "I'm afraid that I can only discuss that with the Minister. Now please, I'd like to meet with him as soon as possible."

"I can try to arrange that, sir," Dylan replied politely, "but as the Head of the Ministry of International Magical Relations, this falls under my jurisdiction and I have every right to be privy to any information you wish to share with the Minister."

Nash fell silent and looked sternly upon Dylan. "All I can tell you is that my Bureau may have a major security breech, a breech which needs to be rectified as soon as possible. Now please, Mr. Dylan, I'd like to speak with Minister Beauclerc." The President's eyes bore down upon Dylan.

Dylan met the other man's gaze and sighed. He knew that this bantering was not going to lead to anything. "I'll see what I can do," he murmured.

"Thank you." With that, the President hastily ended the conversation and his head disappeared from Dylan's fireplace.

Dylan paced in his office for a few moments. He argued back and forth with himself on whether to notify the Minister or not. Grabbing his cloak, he stepped out of his office, having made up his mind that he would see Beauclerc. But he would stop off at Crouch first. He knew that Crouch would be interested in what Nash had said (or not said, for that matter).

He found Crouch in his office, reading over case reports from his Aurors. "Mr. Crouch?" he asked as he entered.

"Yes, Mr. Dylan?" Crouch replied, not looking up.

"I just finished speaking with President Nash," Dylan continued. "He wants to arrange a meeting with the Minister."

Now Crouch looked up. "What for?"

"Apparently whatever we've stumbled upon with this Titus Mortimer may have to do with American Magical intelligence," Dylan explained.

"What?"

"I know it sounds strange, but that's the impression I got from him. He wouldn't discuss anything else with me, only insisting that I arrange a meeting with the Minister and send all the information we have on Mortimer and Julia Kurtz."

Crouch rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What the hell is going on here?"

"I wish I knew, Mr. Crouch," Dylan sighed. "I'm going to arrange the meeting with the Minister, but I'd like for you and your department not to send any information you have on this case to the Americans. I'd like to see what they have to offer us before they start making demands."

"Agreed," Crouch said. "I'll see if I can meet with Beauclerc after the President does."

Dylan nodded and excused himself from the office and hurried towards the Minister's office. He had a twisted feeling in his stomach that told him whatever they had stumbled upon was much larger than they had thought.

March 13, 1970

Ministry of Magic, London

11:03 am

Franklin Beauclerc sat before the expansive fireplace in his office awaiting the arrival of President Nash and his aides. With Beauclerc were Barty Crouch, Nicodemus Dylan, and Albus Dumbledore and his Junior Assistant with quill ready. The fireplace suddenly flared and out from the fireplace stepped President Nash and three aides.

"President Nash, good to see that you've arrived safely," Beauclerc said, shaking Nash's hand. "This is Bartemius Crouch, Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Nicodemus Dylan, whom you've met, my Junior Assistant Hector Martin, and Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School."

"The Albus Dumbledore?" Nash inquired as he shook Dumbledore's hand.

"Yes, sir," Dumbledore replied modestly.

Nash regarded the elder man with awe. "It's an honor to meet you, sir." He turned to the three men he brought with him. "This is Jack Gordon, Director of the Bureau of Magical Law Enforcement, Cecilia Boyer, Assistant Head of Magical Foreign Affairs, and Gabriel Vegas, from the Magical Security Bureau."

"Good to meet all of you," Beauclerc said. "Let's begin, shall we?" They all took their seats. "What is it, Mr. Nash, that is so sensitive that you had to call a meeting with me?" he asked bluntly.

Nash took the blow with a swift smile. "We received information from our offices the Muggle embassy that you had been following a man by the name of Titus Mortimer. We had been following him as well, but lost track of him a three years ago."

"Why were you interested in him?" the Minster asked.

"He has done extensive traveling in the United States, both as a Muggle and as a wizard," Gordon interjected. "And we knew that he has done equally extensive work in the Soviet Union and possibly China, which is how he came to be of interest to us."

"You think he may be some kind of a spy?" Crouch asked.

"We have good evidence to support that theory," Vegas said softly.

"The truth still stands that Titus Mortimer may be a major security problem for us," said Nash. "I'd like to have him brought in as soon as possible. I'd like for the Ministry's help in this. You already have collected extensive information on him. I'd like for you, from now on, to pass on whatever information you have to us--"

"Why don't you collect the information yourself?" Crouch growled, cutting the President off.

"Barty..." Dumbledore groaned.

Four pairs of American eyes turned to Crouch. Nash regarded him calmly. "Since you already have such successful a surveillance system in place, we thought it would be easier on all our parts to continue with such a system."

"And apparently you must think that my manpower is as plentiful as dust," Crouch barked. "We're tracking Mortimer for our own reasons. If you want to follow as well, by all means do so, but with your own men."

Nash did not reply to this, but continued to stare haughtily at Crouch. Crouch could tell that he had taken the President by surprise.

Dumbledore knew that he had to break this tension somehow. "Mr. Nash, we would be happy to pass on whatever information we have, but the truth is that we have little to no information to pass on to you. When it comes to Mortimer, all we seem to have is a few aliases and travel visas, and this is already known to you. We simply need more time before such a daunting request can be made of us."

Dumbledore held his breath, hoping that Nash would soften a bit. When the President's face relaxed, Dumbledore inwardly sighed. "Very well," Nash murmured. "But this man is a danger to us, and the sooner he's captured the safer it will be for the both of us." He rose from his chair, as did all in the room. "Well, Minister, I thank you for receiving me and my company," he announced as he shook the Minister's hand. "I hope that we can converse on this in the future." With that, he and his aides Flooed out.

There was a long silence after their departure. Finally Beauclerc spoke. "Well, that was interesting."

"There's something else going on here," Dumbledore observed quietly. "Something that they're not telling us."

"Sounds typical," Dylan sneered. "Typical of the Americans, thinking they can stick their fingers in as many pies as they want and not get them sticky."

"Dylan!" the Minister snapped. "Between you and Barty, it's little wonder that they don't trust us. Now, let's just let this whole episode blow over, because, quite frankly, that's all we can do, and continue on with business."

"Agreed," said Dumbledore. "Whatever we're dealing with may be bigger than we thought, but we still can only take it one step at a time."

August 13, 1970

London

5:52 pm

After a long silence, the Death Eaters finally attacked again. In a machine-gun pace, packs of them tortured and massacred three Muggle-born and Half-blood families, all of them Ministry workers. In each raid, they left behind the glowing image of the skull with a serpent for a tongue, the Dark Mark. Every terrified wizard knew what that sign meant. Between April and July, the families of Elizabeth Wolsom, Gerald Koontz, and Augusta Moore, all employees of the Department of Magical Transport, were found dead in their homes, their eyes and mouths open with shock, the telltale sign of the Killing Curse. The Ministry was at a loss and the Daily Prophet was having a field day.

Titus never thought the he would actually enjoy organizing these magnificent raids. He managed to climb his way back into the Dark Lord's favor, mostly by employing his extensive network of Death Eater spies in the Ministry, and now headed legions of Death Eaters against those impure in the wizarding world. He never actually joined his troops in the battlefield; that would just be too risky on his part. Instead, he laid out the strategy and positioned his pawns. He let the animals like Cosmo and Malcom Rosier do the actual killing. They craved blood, so why not appease them and keep them quiet. Titus saw his problems with Cosmo disappear after the raids began. It was almost like hanging a bone in front of a dog.

The plans he had forming now were to stake out more Ministry officials, preferably from departments with more importance than Magical Transportation. Then of course, there was St. Mungo's. Titus almost felt like he had all of wizarding Britain in his hands. To help with these hits, he called on one of his favorite and most cunning Death Eaters, "Nighthawk"; although he was known in the Ministry as Augustus Rookwood.

They met in Titus's London flat, which Rookwood assured was far from the Ministry's radar. They sat together in the parlor, where Rookwood procured a list of names. "These may be of interest to you."

Titus scanned the list. "Are they all Muggle-born?"

"Most of them, some are strong Muggle sympathizers."

"There seems to be quite a few from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Titus observed. "Are any of them Aurors?"

"Just a few," Rookwood replied. "I would advise against going after Aurors just yet. That may cause them to attack us with full force. But there are plenty of names there that would be of use to us."

"How useful?"

"Give me a name and I'll tell you."

Titus scanned the list. He liked the sound of Agnes Dahl. "What about her?" he asked, pointing the name out to Rookwood.

The other man smiled. "A good one. She's Potions Master at St. Mungo's. Prepares many of the medications for the sick there."

A dangerous thought crept into Titus's mind. "We could tamper with the meds there. Poison an entire ward at St. Mungo's."

Rookwood pulled a skeptical face. "That would be difficult."

Titus grinned. "I got top NEWTS in Potions while I was in school."

"I'm afraid it may be too difficult," Rookwood explained. "Perhaps when we have more resources and time, but not now."

"True," Titus agreed. "Do you have any other good targets?"

Rookwood peered at the list. "This one may be of interest to you," he said, pointing out the name Mary O'Hare. "Her brother's the head of the Department of International Magical Relations. She's a well-known lobbyist for Muggles and Mudbloods in the International Federation of Wizards. Having a brother involved in international affairs helps. It'll be like hitting the Ministry just enough to cause a real shake-up."

"And the All Souls Massacre didn't cause a shake-up?"

Rookwood smiled. "It did, but not where it'll hurt. If we can hit the Ministry itself, well, then nothing's safe."

Titus smiled. "Sounds good. Do you think you can pull it off?"

"I have enough of a web in the Ministry to where it'll go off without a hitch," Rookwood explained. "They won't even see it coming."

Titus nodded. "Good, good. I say go ahead with O'Hare, she'll be an easy target."

Rookwood bared a savage grin. "Much easier than you would believe."