The Invisible

-----IIIII-----

"As usual, a job well done. You have my praise." He gave an approving look at the woman that stood on the other side of the desk. He vaguely remembered briefing her in this office just a few weeks ago, and now she had finished her assignment in near record time and with excellent results.

"Aren't you getting bored of saying that?" She stood in front of him with her hands crossed over her chest.

"I am, but you aren't really letting me say anything else."

"Fine. I assume that I have been paid."

"Yes."

She turned. "Alright then, I'm leaving."

"No."

"What?" She turned back to face him, a look of disbelief on her face.

"There have been major complications. I'm sorry but you'll need to take this assignment."

"Me again? I'm not the only one you have working for you," she protested.

"No, but this assignment is directly related to your last one. I don't have time to brief another agent on what has gone on before. Besides, your talents will come in handy."

"Can it wait? I barely got back a--"

"No, I'm sorry Orphan, but this time, we don't have the luxury of time." He pulled out a sheet of parchment and placed it on the table. "Here is the report that our investigative department came up with after you returned. I don't really think you'll need to read it to know what you ran up against. It's a pity you never managed to track down whoever was pulling the strings, but what you did find greatly worries us all."

She hissed out a sigh. She was not going to be getting out of this one; the Boss was deadly serious. "I knew that you would want to be informed as quickly as possible."

"The equipment that we provide you with is not unique, but it is heavily regulated. Furthermore, very few wizards can place such powerful charms on Muggle armaments, and we are very lucky to have obtained the services of one such man."

"I saw what I saw. I even brought crates of it back for you."

"That is what worries me. Anti-Magic bullets and Anti-Magic personal armor are something that should be kept out of the hands of Muggles, but it is obvious that someone is supplying certain militant groups with such dangerous equipment. You, yourself, should know how lethal they can be."

She nodded knowingly. The only reason why she was so shocked during the battle with the mercenaries was because she was more used to using such arms, not having them used against her. Normal wizards would never stand a chance, and luckily for her, she did not fall into that category. She recalled prying open dozens of wooden crates that littered the warehouse floor only to find them filled with bullets and armor that were not unlike her own. A more thorough search revealed little else. Whoever had taunted her over the loudspeakers knew how to get away cleanly.

"We followed up on the scraps of information that you brought back, and we may have a lead."

"Death Eaters," she said, remembering the Dark Mark.

"The Death Eaters don't have enough resources to produce such a massive amount of weaponry." He paused and sighed slowly. "I don't know of any of the splinter groups with such a capability. Furthermore, Death Eaters can't stand the sight of Muggles, so it would make no sense for them to employ Muggles, much less arm them."

"So what's your lead?"

He tapped his finger onto the parchment. "We'll be meeting him here tonight. Between what he has told me, and what our investigative team has dredged up, it's getting painfully obvious that wizards giving Muggles enchanted weaponry is just the tip of the iceberg."

She picked up the paper and took a quick glance at it. "This ... is your old place, isn't it?"

"It wasn't only mine."

"I don't have much of a choice, but I expect to be given a substantial pay rise."

"You could be saving a lot of lives, Orphan. Surely that means more to you than money."

"Frankly, I don't care. You know I never did. I'll see you there."

He watched as she apparated away. A quick sigh escaped his lips; he didn't like her less than sunny outlook on the world, but he understood, and more importantly, he couldn't do anything about it. He scribbled down a few sentences onto a piece of parchment and walked over to his owl.

"Mad-Eye, I hope that you're not right on this one," he muttered to himself, before setting his owl off in search of his old friend.

-----IIIII-----

His vision slowly returned to him, but all he could see was a brilliant white light.

"You're awake."

He blinked several times and slowly began to realize that he had been here before.

"I've already warned you a hundred times before. You know you can't afford to exert yourself much more."

He was lying on a bed in the middle of a spotlessly white room. A single open window allowed gusts of fresh air into the room, but aside from it and the bed that he was lying on, the room was empty. No door, no table, and no cupboards were present. He sat up and turned towards his guest, or was it his host? The Chief Auror stood beside his bed with that infuriating magical eye incessantly rolling around in its socket.

"Here, you'll want this."

"Thanks." His aged robe landed on his lap. He was dressed in a perfectly white gown. The first time he ended up here, he had felt strangely uncomfortable without his robe, but now he was used to it. "What happened?"

"After you managed to nearly kill yourself again?"

"I--"

"Ghost." Moody's gaze hardened. "You are the only one that I know of to have any semblance of control of wandless magic. That, along with your skill at wizardry, makes you the most powerful wizard I have ever seen. But you know what using wandless magic does to you. Sooner or later, you'll drain yourself before your battle is over. I can't afford to send you backup. As it is, too many people know about your power."

He threw the robe around himself. "I've heard this before."

"And you'll hear it again. Usually, the Aurors will never allow as young a man as you to operate alone, but you are an incredibly unique case. If you can't learn to curb your anger, I may have to avoid sending you on any more assignments."

"Suspension? You've threatened me with that before, Chief."

"This time I mean it. We gathered enough information from that cabal of Death Eaters that you slaughtered to suspect that someone more powerful is beginning to make a move."

"Can't be worse than Voldemort."

"No. But I have a bad feeling about this. If only you didn't--"

"You knew what would happen if you sent me."

"Fine."

"What did you find out about the missing Aurors?"

"Not a lot. But there is some interesting speculation on who the Death Eaters were dealing with."

"You know who they are?"

"It is pure conjecture at this point, but they may be dealing with a lot more than what we first assumed."

"What can be more important than lives?"

"What indeed." Just then, an owl flew through the window and deposited a piece of parchment into Moody's waiting hands. The Chief Auror stroked the owl once and watched as it made its way out of the room.

He watched as Alastor Moody quickly scanned through the message. "Good news?"

"Yes. Very good news. It seems that Remus has pulled through for us once again."

"Explain."

"Meet me there tonight." Moody tossed the parchment onto the bed. "I would like to speak to you a bit more, but I have business to attend to."

The Ghost took a glance at the paper and felt his stomach churn.

12 Grimmauld Place.

-----IIIII-----

She coughed harshly as she made her way through the derelict house. Apparently, after the war was won, or lost depending on which side one was on, this place fell into disrepair. Every movement she made resulted in a whirlwind of dust erupting. She scrunched up her nose as another plume crashed into her face. She had no idea why anyone would choose this place for a meeting. Surely, Britain had a hundred more ideal spots than this one.

She muttered to herself as she probed around the house guided only by the miniscule amount of illumination that her wand gave out. She had long given up hope of finding some sort of light switch and resigned herself to stumbling around the house in the vain hope that she found what she was looking for.

Sadly, she didn't even know where she was supposed to be. This place was huge, and the Boss had not bothered to tell her where he was meeting her. After some more aimless wandering, she managed to find herself in some sort of study, albeit a rather unused study. A thick coat of dust covered the massive oak desk that dominated the room. Chairs were strewn around the floor, and a large chest sat in a corner. A massive cupboard filled with what seemed like hundreds of Dark Magic items filled one side of the room, while the massive Black family crest adorned another. Several glowing eyes stared at her from the shadowy corners of the room, and occasionally she heard small feet scamper across the wooden floorboards.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed throughout the house.

They weren't that of the Boss. The footsteps were too heavy, almost as if the person bore too much on his shoulders.

She pursed her lips grimly. It could be the contact, but it could be someone else. She didn't live this long without being more than a bit paranoid. She slunk into the shadows, pulled out her wand, and waited.

-----IIIII-----

Someone was here. He could sense it.

This house had been deserted for years, but as he walked through hall, he could see that someone had been here recently. The critters that now inhabited the building seemed on edge. The portraits that lined the walls were looking about, an odd sort of curiosity in their painted faces. As he looked closely, he could almost see dust settling as if this was the first time they were disturbed for a hundred years.

Mad-Eye wasn't here. If he was, he would be stomping around the building busy reminiscing about the past or lamenting how Sirius' place had been forgotten. But now, the house was plunged in darkness, as the dozens of magical creatures continued to roam what they now called their home.

His hand reached for his wand and his footsteps lightened. He felt the familiar rush of blood as he began readying himself for the battle that was to come. He glided up the stairs, concentrating on his surroundings. The shadows were many and each one could hide a multitude of surprises. It was best to be careful.

Soon, his slow, meticulous pace led him to one of the many studies in the house. He drifted into the room and looked around. Almost no light from the half moon made its way in here. The shadows were long, and the darkness consuming. Eyes of many shapes and colors stared at him from the corners of the room. He looked back at the Magical Creatures.

But they were no longer looking at him.

They were staring at a corner of the room. They were staring at someone else.

In one swift motion, he whirled around and aimed his wand.

"Expelliarmus!"

-----IIIII-----

"Expelliarmus!" She yelled out as soon as she saw the wand in the intruder's hand. But he was quick, almost as quick as her. To her shock, she saw her wand fly out of her hand and land in some dark corner. She gave her foe a closer look. The man before her was dressed in a dark robe, the hood thrown over his head such that it was impossible to see his face. Very few wizards could cast a spell before her, but tonight, this man managed that very feat. And judging by his momentary hesitation, she figured that this was the first time that he had been beaten to the draw as well.

Both of them had managed to disarm each other, but holstered against her thigh was her personal pistol. Now, she regretted not bringing something more lethal, but in such an enclosed space, one good shot was more than enough to end the fight.

She saw his hand disappear underneath his robes. Instinctively, she dashed forward. He had a spare wand and she couldn't allow him to use it. Just as he withdrew his arm, with wand clenched firmly in his hand, she got within range and delivered a thunderous kick. His arm snapped back, and his wand was hurled several feet away.

She rapidly upholstered her pistol and pointed it the man's head. "Don't move. I don't miss at this range."

-----IIIII-----

He gingerly massaged his throbbing hand, as he tried to take stock of the situation. His foe was undoubtedly a woman. She was dressed in some sort of skin-tight suit, but a masking charm concealed her face. He had never seen someone move so quickly before. In a blink of the eye, she had managed to not only swat his spare wand out of his hand, but also point some sort of Muggle weapon at his head.

"Silly girl. Do you not know who you face?" He scoffed.

"Your protective charms will do you no good. This is loaded with Anti-Magic rounds. Don't force me to shoot you."

Anti-Magic? He had heard of such powerful charms. If he remembered correctly, they negated all magic that they touched. Surprisingly, he realized that this combat suit of hers was similarly charmed. Try as he might, his magic didn't seem to affect her in the least. Everything he attempted just seemed to pass around her body. It was problem, but such little things didn't stop him before.

-----IIIII-----

She saw that he remained still. At least he wasn't stupid enough to attempt to lash out against her.

"Alright, why are you--" A massive burst of pain tore into her back before she could finish. Another torrent of agony swept through her as she crashed onto the floor. Snarling, she ignored the wracking pain as she leapt to her feet and aimed her gun at the hooded figure.

She barely managed to squeeze off a shot before she was forced to dive to one side, a chair smashing into the area that she had just left.

-----IIIII-----

He watched as the Muggle weapon discharged. Instinctively, he quickly set up one of his protective barriers between him and the incoming bullet. But she was right, the round was passing through what should have been a near impenetrable protection charm. Hurling himself to one corner of the room, he barely managed to prevent the lethal missile from embedding itself in his skull.

-----IIIII-----

She watched as the robed figure dodged her shot with surprising dexterity. How the chairs had moved and how the figure managed to throw such heavy objects at her without lifting a finger was a question best left till later. He was still on the floor, barely beginning to pick himself up from his life-saving dive. No matter how inhuman his speed was, it would be impossible to dodge the next few shots. A powerful wizard, maybe, but he certainly didn't know how to do anything against a firearm. She gave herself a thin smile and then let loose a volley of fire.

And then, she felt her jaw drop as the massive wooden chest tore itself out of the corner and just managed to put itself between her and her target.

-----IIIII-----

That was close.

He dragged himself upright as the bullets buried themselves into the chest that floated in front of him. He looked at his enemy once more. She was certainly not what she seemed. The wooden chest suddenly shot towards her, and unsurprisingly, she managed to jump out of the way.

He was going to go all out on her. Either that or he would lose.

-----IIIII-----

She bit back a curse as she sidestepped a chair that was hurled towards her. It was impossible to get any sort of aimed shot under such an assault. She rolled to one side to avoid another chair that was flung her way, and she shattered an oncoming painting with a roundhouse kick. She set her jaw. She wasn't going to be able to do anything if she was forced to move backwards under such a withering assault.

She set her jaw and grit her teeth. There was only one way out of this, and even then, she wasn't sure that she would get anywhere. But she had little choice.

Pain blasted through her senses as she backhanded a lamp out of the way, and then, she hurled herself towards him.

-----IIIII-----

He just barely managed to raise his hand to block her fist. He winced as her other arm came up and caught him with a glancing blow. She was quick, and with her so close, he could barely concentrate on getting the large desk to intervene in their spar. Ducking under a high kick and leaping over a sudden leg sweep, he knew he would not be able to hold out for much longer. He was never good at hand to hand combat, and since it was impossible for him to affect her in any way, he was rapidly running out of options.

"Ah, I see you've met each other. Very good, now since we've got those introductions out of the way, we can get down to business."

-----IIIII-----

She jerked backwards as she noticed the two older men that stood in the doorway. One was the Boss, and the other was apparently the Chief Auror. "Boss?"

"Must you destroy everything you touch?" The Boss sighed as he gave the utter wreckage of the room a once over. "I know we don't use this place much more, but you really should respect the home of one of the more famous wizarding families."

"We can talk about that later, Remus. We have work to do," Mad-Eye Moody, seemingly unfazed by the devastation, said. "At least they haven't managed to kill each other."

"That wouldn't do now would it, Chief?" Lupin quipped.

Moody's scarred mouth betrayed a faint smile. "Don't do that to me Remus. You know I hate this job."

"Wait, wait," she interrupted. "What is this about?"

"I told you, Orphan. We're meeting my lead here and I'm standing right next to him."

"Alright, but who is he?" She jabbed her finger at the robed figure that had apparently stopped attacking.

"The Ghost. You'll be working together on this."

-----IIIII-----

"What?" His outburst echoed down the hallways. He stared at the Chief. "You didn't tell me."

"You didn't ask," Moody replied indifferently.

"I work alone."

"Not for now and don't bother arguing. You know my decisions are final. I believe that The Orphan is up to the mark."

He seethed. Sure, if the girl that he just fought was truly The Orphan, then he knew that her reputation was well deserved. Still, he couldn't find it within himself to agree to work with anyone else, especially on such short notice. But he knew that Chief Moody's orders were final. It had always been that way, and it had always grated on him. "I don't like it."

"You don't need to. Let's discuss this somewhere less ruined."

"One more thing," Remus Lupin added with a serious tone in his voice. "You'll be working quite closely on this and if all goes well, for quite some time. Alastor and I have already agreed about this. Show your faces."

"Why? I haven't--" He began.

"No. I never--" She had also begun to protest.

"Look. Trust is essential for teamwork, and you don't build trust hidden behind layers upon layers of charms," Remus explained.

"Don't waste our time. We need to get you briefed as quickly as possible. That's an order," the harder voice of the Chief Auror cut through the air.

"I don't take orders--"

"You do now," Lupin interrupted The Orphan. "Hurry up."

With severe irritation, and a growing feeling of impotence, The Ghost reached up and let his hood down. In that moment, he watched as the charm around The Orphan's face disappeared.

It was a rude shock to say the least.

"Pansy Parkinson?" He said in disbelief. "You're ..."

"As dead as you are, Ronald Weasley."

-----IIIII-----