The Invisible

Chapter 6: The Discussion

-----IIIII-----

"Now that that is over." Moody turned towards the door. "Let's get this briefing over and done with. Time is short."

Remus Lupin nodded his assent and motioned towards the younger occupants of the room. "Come along. You can stare daggers at each other on the way."

The Ghost gnashed his teeth as he fell into step behind the older man. He decided against an angry outburst, although he certainly did feel like yelling at the witch that was strolling beside him.

"Stop staring at me, Weasley," she hissed under her breath.

"Why aren't you dead?"

"Awfully abrupt aren't you?"

"You were a Death Eater. What are you doing working for us?"

"I work for whoever pays me well. That is all," she deadpanned. "What about you? Why aren't you dead? Everyone made an awful fuss about it. You haven't told your family, have you?"

It was question that he had asked himself a thousand times and every single time, he managed to avoid answering it, and that was not going to change anytime soon. "Don't change the subject. The Death Eaters will never forgive you."

"I don't care what they think." She flinched away from his gaze, and a defeated tone began to color her voice. "I don't need what I'll never get."

"Children!" Moody barked just as he was about to pry further. "Stop bickering. You have plenty of time to catch up later."

The Ghost pried his eyes away from the Orphan, and he noticed that the Chief had led them to one of the many studies in the mansion. It was just as disused as everything else in Grimmauld Place. Yet another dust covered desk dominated the room. A mangy looking carpet that was once a blood red masterpiece covered the floor. Wooden chairs were strewn in the four corners of the room. Some were missing legs, and others seemed to be infested with a dozen insects. "I'll stand," he announced.

"Can we get this over with?" Parkinson snapped.

Lupin nodded. "As always, what we're going to reveal shouldn't be repeated to anyone outside this room."

He gave a curt nod as she muttered her agreement.

"Remus and the Orphan have been working on a massive overseas smuggling syndicate. The material that they captured during their latest operation has given me good reason to believe that they are responsible for a significant portion of the black market here in Britain and the Continent," Moody began.

"This is old news," Parkinson interrupted, "tell me something new."

"Something new? All I have is speculation. There was always a black market for various Dark Magic items here. Previously, it thrived in part due to Voldemort and his lackeys' insatiable desire for Dark Magic and in part by the lack of attention given to it by the Ministry. Now with Voldemort slain, and the Aurors going all out against the Death Eater splinter groups, this black market should be shrinking rather than growing."

"Just for the Ghost's benefit," Remus Lupin added. "The Orphan found a massive cache of charmed Muggle weapons in Shanghai. All were due to be sent to Europe by the end of the week, and all bore the Dark Mark."

"Death Eaters," The Ghost spat.

"Although we would dearly like to believe that the Death Eaters are behind all of this, it isn't possible. Such a massive international operation is not within their logistical capability," Moody clarified. "However, your previous operation gave me much to worry about."

"Again, just so that we are all on the same page," Lupin said as he glanced at Parkinson, "the Ghost was sent to locate several missing Aurors."

"Can't keep track of your own people?"

"Orphan," Lupin growled warningly. "Death Eaters were involved, and apparently they were involved in some human smuggling operation. I don't really understand what they plan to do with the captured wizards, or who 'they' are for that matter."

Lupin paused in an effort to gather his thoughts. "But what we do know is that someone is orchestrating the human trading. Alastor and I have both agreed that it is highly likely that the same hand is pulling the strings of both these operations. Two highly illegal, well organized, and significantly large underground organizations should not be able to co-exist in any country. While we haven't ruled out the possibility that they are separate entities, we have decided to pursue investigations based on the former assumption."

"And so, we come to your first joint mission," the Chief Auror announced. "While little evidence was left after the Ghost completed his operation," Moody shot the robed man a decidedly pointed glare, "we managed to uncover just enough leads to give ourselves some sort of direction."

Remus Lupin produced two thin folders and handed them to the two young operatives as Moody continued. "As previously stated, you will both be working together. We managed to locate some sort of contact point used by the Death Eaters and whoever they sold the captured Aurors to. It's difficult to believe, but it's somewhere in the Salford area of Greater Manchester. Scouts have said that it looks like a small house on the Quays, but take that information with a grain of salt. We're dealing with professionals, and I don't want to take any chances."

"I can do this myself; I don't need him." Parkinson jabbed her finger at Weasley. "He'll only slow me down."

"On the contrary, this is Auror business," he retorted with an icy glare. "I am perfectly capable of handling it myself."

"Are you sure about that?

"I think I managed to prove that to you a few minutes ago."

"Stop it, you two," Lupin snapped. "Neither of you have any choice in this matter whatsoever. Alastor and I have decided that you will do this together, and that choice is final. If one of you fails, both of you would be considered to have failed, and you know the consequences. Is that clear?"

"I know that both of you are more than capable," Moody finished. "Your orders are in that folder. Orphan, your usual armaments will once again be provided. I do not expect failure."

"Alright then, I believe that Remus has some choice words for the Orphan, as do I have for the Ghost. We'll part ways here."

"Good luck to both of you." Lupin gave them both a short nod. "Orphan, let's go."

"Gladly." She swiveled on her heels and promptly walked out.

-----IIIII-----

"You didn't need to do that, Orphan," The Boss chastised as he joined her in the hallways, quietly shutting the large oak door. "I know that you prefer working solo, but this time you need someone to back you up."

"Why?"

"Have you managed to forget that you were almost killed back in China? You don't get shot if you can help it, and it's only going to get worse from here on out. I can't afford your death."

Instinctively, she placed her hand over where the bullet had buried itself in her. The healers had already taken care of the wound, but she knew that the Boss had a point. She barely made it through the last time, and if things got any worse, she would be in serious trouble. "Fine then."

"What do you think about the Ghost? Alastor assures me that he is the absolute best that the Aurors can provide, but I never had the luxury of seeing him in action."

An involuntary shudder ran through her as she remembered the short spar that they had. Normally, if she managed to disarm a wizard, she would have managed to win handily. But with the Ghost, it was different, very different. Watching someone command magic without the use of a wand or any incantation was unnerving, and somehow the Ghost had managed to perfect the art. If she had not been wearing her Anti-Magic armor, she would have been slaughtered. "He's good. You don't need to worry."

"Ah, that's good to know." The Boss took another hard look at her. "You want to ask me something."

She did. How in the world did he manage to figure her out so well? "How did he manage to do that?"

"Do what?"

"Wandless magic. I've seen some wizards with rudimentary skill, but he is miles ahead of them." She remembered the ease at which he managed to fling the furniture at her and use it as a shield. "I knew him from Hogwarts. He never had that much aptitude for anything. But now ..."

"Moody was incredibly reluctant to part with much information," The Boss replied slowly. "But from what I gather, Ronald Weasley only managed to truly become the Ghost during his time in the Aurors."

"Was he really Ronald Weasley? Isn't Ronald Weasley dead?"

"I can assure you that we saw the real Ronald Weasley. You shouldn't be surprised. You, after all, are in a similar situation."

She knew that. No matter how much she wanted to ignore what she was now, she never managed to. "He's so different." During her younger, more innocent time in Hogwarts, they traded many harsh barbs, but she never saw the brand of raw fury that she had seen in his eyes just now.

"Orphan, you know what he has gone through. That much is enough to tear a lesser man apart. I'm surprised that he is still managing to hold himself together."

She let out a sigh. There was little point in caring about anything anyway. She had a job to do, and that was all it was going to be. "Payment?"

"As usual." The Boss gave her a serious look. "Pansy ..."

Her head shot up. Almost no one referred to her by her first name anymore. In fact, no one referred to her by her last name anymore either.

"You do know that he's not the only one who has changed. You've done your fair bit too."

"I don't know what you're talking about." But she did know. She knew all too well.

-----IIIII-----

"So this is what I get for botching up," he ground out as he watched the large door shut. "You could have chosen a better babysitter."

"Ghost, you know yourself better than anyone else. We are entering dangerous waters, and you are growing more uncontrollable. I cannot afford your bouts of fury jeopardizing this any more. This is no longer your average group of Death Eaters wanting to recapture their glory days. I am certain that you can appreciate that."

The Ghost glared at his Chief but said nothing. He knew that Moody was more or less on the mark. No matter how much he hated to admit it, he knew that he was beginning to lose control of his steadily growing power. The murder of the Death Eaters earlier had merely proven the Chief's point. If there truly was a rapidly expanding underground criminal syndicate, it must be annihilated immediately lest another mad war for supremacy erupt, and if he managed to continually destroy all their leads, it would be nigh impossible to achieve that objective. He was becoming a liability, and he despised that thought. He had sworn vengeance, and he would see it through no matter what the cost.

"I am glad that you understand."

"Why her?"

"The Orphan? What about her? You didn't knock her out in five seconds, I believe that makes her adequately qualified to be your cover."

That was true. While he had come into contact with many would be wizards trying to use Muggle weapons on him, this was the first time that his magic was impotent against such an onslaught. "Anti-Magic," he remembered her boast. "It was all in those charms that she placed on her equipment."

"Don't belittle yourself, Ghost. You're more than capable of handling those. The Orphan is much more than a sack of Anti-Magic Muggle weapons."

Once again, he knew that the Chief was right. Sure, he wasn't able to fling her around like a rag doll, but he knew that he had the ability to compensate, and compensate he did. Incredibly, she managed to dodge every single one of his impromptu missiles and had almost managed to land a swift kick or two. She was more than capable. Her near mythical reputation was well earned. "Are you sure about her?"

"Why do you ask?"

"She was a Death Eater. Her whole family was a bunch of Death Eaters. I should know. I was there at their so-called last stand."

"The famous Parkinson-Trollic invasion. I was there too."

"She died. They all died." Everyone died. With an immense amount of effort he managed to dispel the memories of that horrid event. Horrid not because of the immense number of casualties on both sides, but horrid because of the bitter knowledge that he would never again see those whom he had fought beside so long ago.

"Ghost, just because someone dies doesn't mean that they're dead. You should know about that pretty well."

"She was a Death Eater. How do you know that she won't stab us all in the back in the end?"

"I don't," The Chief replied grimly. "But Remus vouches for her, and that is good enough for me."

"That's it?" He was astonished. The Chief Auror he knew was utterly incapable of believing anything so easily.

"From what Remus told me, she lived through a very difficult period after her supposed death. She isn't like the fanatical Death Eaters that you polish off regularly, nor is she the little girl that you went to school with."

That much was true. The little time that they had seen each other in Hogwarts was spent engaged in childish house rivalries. Back then, the fire and bite that she exuded was fearsome. But the woman that he saw just a few moments ago seemed to be someone entirely different. The passion of her youth had all but faded and was replaced by what seemed to be a dull cynicism.

"Remus tells me that the Orphan was born after the war. For some reason, she decided to abandon what was left of Pansy Parkinson. You won't see her answering to Death Eaters anytime soon."

"I hope you're right."

"She has changed, Ghost, almost as much as you have."

Fancy that. Another person trying to run away from the horrors of the past.

Too bad it was futile.

He should know. He was still trying.

-----IIIII-----

"Minister."

A brief glance at the young official didn't reveal much. His clear, youthful blue eyes were in stark contrast to his heavily tanned skin and neatly trimmed moustache that rested below his sharp nose. He had cut his dirty blond hair short and had combed it back. He stood at attention, rock solid although it was obvious that such discipline wasn't required in this environment. The uniform that he wore was starched stiff and the rank that he bore so proudly was obviously not for someone so young.

"You don't need to bother with ceremony around here, Commander. Please sit."

"Thank you, Minister." The officer took the chair offered to him and sat, keeping his posture straight. Many had questioned this choice, but they didn't know the true reasons.

"Commander," he smiled at the man sitting across the desk, "I trust your day went well?"

"Yes, Minister."

"Excellent. How are the men that I have assigned to you?"

"An eclectic bunch, Minister, but otherwise, they are superior to those whom I have previously commanded."

He nodded slowly, not that that was saying much. The man was but another officer among myriad battalions that served the United Kingdom. He was slightly promising but not so much so that he deserved to be promoted early and given command of such a secret initiative. Everyone said that. In fact, that was what they said about every single person that was picked to be in this project, too young, too fresh, too inexperienced. "Then their training is completed?"

"The resources at our disposal were limited."

"Understandable." There was an excellent reason for his choice. Such inexperience meant near total obedience in front of a greater man. After all, no one is going to jeopardize such an honor by bothering to question details. Furthermore, such youth meant that they were easily manipulated. Exactly what was required.

"You understand the threat to our nation."

"Yes, Minister."

"You also understand that I, and in turn you, have been given the responsibility to safeguard this country by the Prime Minister and by Her Majesty."

"Of course, Minister."

"What have you discovered in your limited training, Commander?"

"The subjects, as you said, have near superhuman abilities but again, as you predicted, were utterly incapable of defending themselves against our standard armaments. A question, Minister?"

"Go ahead."

"Their natural abilities far surpass those that we have, but their way of defending themselves seems medieval at best. If I could hazard a guess, the only way I believe that their species could carry on with such primitive technology would be if they had absolutely no idea of our existence."

"It is a good question, Commander, but a question that I am unable to answer. We only have limited contact with them, and each meeting has ended in vicious combat."

"You are certain that they were behind the terrorist incidents of the past few years."

"Not certain, Commander. However, I believe that the reports I made known to you are more than just interesting conjecture."

"Yes, Minister. It made a rather compelling case."

"Indeed. I believe that you and your men are ready to take on your first mission," he reached behind the desk, retrieved a small optical disk, and placed it before the officer. "These are the details of your first mission. We have managed to discover a population of these beings in this area. You are to enter the area and attempt to make contact. I don't have my hopes up, but do not provoke conflict if it is not necessary. As always, live captives are preferred. I leave the rest to you, Commander."

"We will not disappoint you, Minister."

"Good luck, Commander." With that, the young man picked up the disk and strode briskly out of the office.

He watched the commander exit the room and allowed himself a brief smirk of satisfaction. While it was certainly worrying that a few idiots managed to place a good portion of his organization at risk, he was quite confident that his new platoon of attack dogs would sort everything out.