The Awakening of a Magus

The Awakening of a Magus
Chapter 57 - Fri, Aug 11 - Day 22

Wands, Words, and First Night on the Job

Harry was finally relaxing over his favorite dessert: treacle tart (though Dobby's razzleberry tarts were a close second). All but a few dozen students and two teachers were now in residence at Hogwarts. His Sorting Brat duties were done, since the Hat would finish the few remaining as they arrived.

He still had quite a few languages to study, so he could replace some of those piggybacked translation charms, but that would go quickly. Hermione had told him of an extensive library at a Muggle university that specialized in language programs. He would sneak in there after hours and speed-read the textbooks over the next few nights. In addition, he planned to ask for volunteers from students or staff who were native-speakers or highly fluent in the needed languages, who would allow him to skim their memories for real-world language usage. The trickiest would be those that had non-English alphabets, especially Arabic, which had spoken-only colloquial dialects in addition to Modern Standard Arabic for formal spoken and written communications. When he allowed himself to think about it, he still surprised himself with his enhanced academic and intellectual abilities. I'm turning into Hermione, he joked with himself. Hope she doesn't get jealous.

For now, it seemed the worst of the day was over and done with. He turned his attention back to the conversation between Draco and the other student assistants.

"Even though I'm still under seventeen, unlike this miscreant next to me, a combination of Fudge's waiver, my apprenticeship, and some vague language in my mother's will forced them to consider me emancipated. Eurydice Boggs Clearwater is truly a wonder, I must say. I have never seen anyone take the wind out of Cheetum's sails as she did at Gringotts."

Harry smiled. "I have, Draco. The way you handled the three of them at the Memorial was a sight to behold. Dumbledore and Bones have rarely been so entertained, from what I gather. Well done, Lord Malfoy."

Draco actually had the faintest of blushes at the praise and approval of his new friends and allies. "I intend to prove that the Malfoy line ... the Slytherin line ... can be ambitious, proud, and powerful without ... selling themselves to the Dark Lord of the moment. I will bow to no being, and I have willingly knelt to only one, and that in respect, not servitude." Draco was now flushed with emotion. He sensed someone staring at him, and noticed Rachel nodding slightly with a quiet smile. Her approval sent a wonderful shiver down his spine. I never felt like that around Malvina or Pansy. Why does an American Gryffindor's approval have such an effect on me? Maybe because she is seeing me as a person, not as some carbon copy of Father, or a stereotypical member of Slytherin house or the Slytherin line. He smiled back at her, and to his delight, prompted the faintest of blushes from the girl in return.

Those seated in the immediate vicinity of the two preoccupied teens were doing their best not to react, but it was quite a battle. Several private mindspeech comments and sniggers flew around the table and to others in the Circle. Only Harry noticed, though: once the interaction between Draco and Rachel had been observed, Severus Snape glanced momentarily at Rachel's aunt, Amelia Crafter, with the slightest of smiles and a speculative look in his dark eyes.

Before Harry could burst out laughing at his two Slytherin friends, Dumbledore thankfully offered a distraction.

"Welcome all! Welcome to Hogwarts. Since all but a few of our extended community are now present, I would like to take this opportunity to make a few announcements. After breakfast tomorrow, we will have several businesses present so you may purchase wands, uniforms, text books, and selected other supplies. We expect to begin full classes one week from Monday. Next week, we will arrange group trips to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade for other necessities. The faculty and staff have finalized your initial schedules, which you will receive at breakfast tomorrow. You will have until the first day of classes to request changes to your schedule."

The twinkle began to show as Dumbledore continued. "Also during next week, we will give all students the opportunity to sign up for various extra-curricular activities, including Quidditch teams, a Dueling Club, various study groups, and martial arts training, to name a few. Though details are not yet finalized, be aware that there will be at least two events this year which will require formal robes." Dumbledore paused at the groans from most of the boys, and the squeals from most of the girls. "All I will tell you at this time is that you have at least one month before the first event."

Ron leaned over to whisper to Hermione, though he stammered slightly, "Uh, Hermione? Whatever it is, will you go with me? Please?" His answer was a smothering hug and a face full of bushy brown hair. After a bit of gasping on his part prompted her to release him, she spoke softly, eyes bright with emotion. "Of course, Ron. Any time. Always," she whispered, as she and her boyfriend seemed to be in competition over who could blush more.

Over the noisy crowd in the Great Hall, Harry sent a quick mental message to the twins. /- I'd advise you two to reconsider whatever you were about to say or do ... keep in mind that both of them have been training with a Magus over the summer. You don't want to get on their bad side. -/ He smirked, glancing at Fred and George at the Gryffindor table, who suddenly looked a bit pale, with an un-Gryffindor-ish greenish tinge. They had to be satisfied with a simple mental call to Ron, and a thumbs-up gesture for the two fifth-years.

/- Harry? -/ sent Dumbledore. /- Octavius would like to see us about those new wands we spoke of earlier this week. He will then stay the night in guest quarters so he can prepare for tomorrow's business. Should we meet in your tower's training area, or down in Headquarters? -/ he asked, referring to the new Order Headquarters in the former Chamber of Secrets.

/- I've warded the Chamber as much as my tower, and he needs to be keyed in to Headquarters in any case, -/ commented Harry. /- I expect the Order may need his services on occasion, whether he is a member or not. Do you think he'll join? -/

/- I expect he will, and be a great asset since he is aware of most of what happens in the Alley, appearances to the contrary. He will arrive at the Gathering Point shortly. When he does, I will escort him below, -/ finished Dumbledore. /- I've informed Severus. Would you see that Draco joins us? -/

/- If I can get him away from ... the others. -/ Harry smirked at the occasional glances passing between Draco and Rachel.

"Albus tells me that a signet ring was not the only artifact you removed from the family vaults today, Mr. Potter," commented Octavius Ollivander as he unpacked and enlarged his wand-making tools and supplies.

Having expected the elderly wizard's professional curiosity, Harry subtlely triggered the wand holster, and he carefully held out Gryffindor's wand to the suddenly awe-struck wand-crafter.

"Ah, the finest work of Tiberius Ollivander," he said with reverence, hesitant to touch the ancient work of art. "I was fortunate many years ago that I was allowed to witness your great-grandfather's presentation to the artifacts. Though I could not, of course, touch the unclaimed wand, I was able to see and sense the wand. It was instrumental in my eventual success with your headmaster's wand."

Seeing the man's hesitation, Harry assured him. "Since I am allowing you to handle the wand, there won't be any harm to you."

Relaxing a bit, Ollivander gently touched the wand, then grasped it more firmly as he felt nothing but the warmth of a powerful magical artifact. Glancing between the wand and Harry with an unfocused gaze, he observed, "As well-suited as your first wand was, this one is a nearly perfect match for your current power, Mr. Potter."

Draco had been observing the interaction, and asked, "Mr. Ollivander, would you be willing to let Harry show me what you sense? I have an idea, but I'm not certain what my Scan is telling me."

A slight widening of his eyes was the only evidence of the old wand-crafter's surprise. After a moment, he nodded, then he heard in his mind, /- If you would do your assessment again, sir, I'll relay to Draco. -/ Ollivander could also feel that Harry was gently replenishing the significant energy that use of his gift cost him.

Beginning again, he focused his fairly unique variant of Scanner sense on his client and the wand he held. Before he could release his Scan, he felt Draco's voice in his mind, /- There, please, focus there again ... -/ After a moment, he felt ... alone in his mind again and he relaxed his senses.

"So, Mr. Malfoy," asked Ollivander, "what did you have in mind for Mr. Potter's wand?"

"What about a third component, to key the wand to Harry? Since the wand contains the heartstring of an Imperial Horntail, suppose he donated a few drops of dragon's blood to match?" suggested Draco.

"A dragon form?" Ollivander asked in shock.

Dumbledore offered with a smile, "His primary animagus form is that of an Imperial Horntail, Octavius."

With a pensive look, Draco asked, "Sir, how does one get blood from a dragon?"

Snape smirked, and commented, "Very carefully, I would say, Draco."

After a hard glare at his training master, Draco looked to Dumbledore for a more useful answer.

"With a cooperative dragon, the easiest location to draw blood is the snout," offered the headmaster.

"What kind of cooperation is needed?" asked Harry with a smile.

"You need to hold your breath, brat, and don't sneeze," Snape advised. "So, do you need to shift to full size first, or have you managed to shift directly to your mini-dragon form?"

Without answering, Harry smiled, stepped away from the others into an open area of the room, and shifted into a fifteen foot miniature Imperial Horntail. He tilted his head in question and sent to those present, /- So, who is going to do the honors? -/

Ollivander had already retrieved a lancet and vial for collecting the blood. "Well, I must say that this miniature form is much easier to deal with, Mr. Potter." As he carefully proceeded with the bloodletting, Harry started twitching a bit.

/- Oh blast, that tickles. Please hurry before I ... -/ Ollivander pulled back, moving with more agility than one would expect of a man his age, then dodged as the dragon turned his head to the side, snorting a gout a flame towards the ceiling to avoid bystanders. /- Sorry, sir. Did you get what you needed? -/

With only the slightest hesitation, Ollivander confirmed, "Yes, Mr. Potter, I have what we need for your wand."

The other wizards guessed immediately that the craftsman longed to have an additional supply of such a rare and potent ingredient. Before Harry could offer to accommodate him, Snape interjected, "Perhaps the Magus could be persuaded to provide additional components in the future ... on a case-by-case basis. Anything gathered from any of his magical creature forms is likely to be unusually potent, and we wouldn't want such wands to fall into just any hands, now, would we?" Harry could see Snape's point, and promptly shifted back to his normal form.

Ollivander's expression was that of a child told that Christmas would come early, and several times as well. "Oh, indeed, my lord," he softly addressed the Magus, "I would be honored to accept any components you might provide for special projects, and you would have full right of approval of the recipient." Glancing down at the small vial of blood he held, he pulled his thoughts back to the current project. "If you would please, place your wand here, handle down into this depression." He gestured at the wooden stand that looked like a narrow candlestick.

Once Harry had set the ebony wand in place, Ollivander drew his wand, pointing at the stand to adjust its fit, stabilizing the wand it held. He muttered softly as he waved his wand slowly around his target, up and down and around, circling the stand. A pale blue mist flowed out of his wand, surrounding the softly glowing ebony artifact. After completing his circuit around the stand, he lowered his wand a moment with a sigh. He sensed Harry's intent to replenish his energy, but shook his head slightly. He must complete the process without such an interruption, however beneficial. Opening the vial of dragon's blood, he carefully dripped the substance onto the tip. The fluid seemed to sizzle as it struck the dark wood and seeped in. As the last of the new core material was absorbed, Ollivander repeated the motions he had earlier performed, but in reverse order, circling in the opposite direction as the blue mist was drawn back towards his own wand. With a final gesture and muttered phrase, the mist was gone, leaving Harry's wand with a moderate purple glow.

"If you would be so kind, please retrieve your wand from the stand, Mr. Potter," Ollivander indicated in a quiet voice. "For at least twenty-four hours, it would be unadvisable for any other to handle your wand, even with permission. Once the glow is gone, only pre-existing restrictions will apply." A faint smirk of satisfaction appeared on his face when Harry carefully took his wand back, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Allow yourself a few minutes to adjust before attempting to use it." The old craftsman sat down carefully to rest. "However, since you do not require your wand for most magics, I would like to take you up on your earlier offer of assistance now."

Harry returned his wand to its holster and gently restored Ollivander's magical strength to its former levels. "Thank you, sir. And thanks for your idea, Draco. I had thought the wand was about as perfect a match as one could get, but now ... I think I'll be able to progress much better on my control with this to help." As he finished, he glanced at the two Slytherins. "Who's next?"

"Mr. Malfoy," began Ollivander, "for contrast and balance, I wish to enhance your ash and runespoor venom wand with unicorn hair. Mr. Potter, if you would transform Mr. Malfoy for us, I will take one hair each from his mane and tail."

Draco's eyes widened. "Me? A Slytherin? As a unicorn?" Snape was sniggering a bit. "Well, Potter, what does your Scan have to say about that?"

As Harry gazed at his friend, a slow smile appeared on his face. "As atypical as it sounds, I have to agree that it should be extremely effective. Now relax and stand still." Draco Malfoy as a unicorn ... let Draco be what he would have been had he been born a unicorn. Harry focused his power at the Slytherin and the silver-blonde young man with pale gray eyes shifted suddenly into a unicorn ... but not quite the usual unicorn. Standing before them, shuffling anxiously on metallic-looking hooves, was a rare Silvered Unicorn. His coat was snow-white, but sparkled as though each hair were tipped in molten silver. The hooves and horn were softly glowing silver, and the fibers of his mane and tail were spun-silver strands of flexible, living mineral. Though his eyes basically remained the same silver-gray color as his normal human form, they glowed with the power of a fledgling Klaatu-shah and showed occasional bright green sparks.

/- What? Why is everyone staring? -/ sent Draco.

"Harry, exactly what was your focus as you transformed him?" asked Dumbledore carefully.

"I concentrated on what Draco would be if he were a unicorn. I've never heard of one that looked like that," he answered slowly.

/- Somebody tell me what's wrong! Where is a mirror when you need one? -/ demanded Draco.

Snape waved his wand to conjure a reflective layer of mist before the young unicorn. "Calm down, Draco. Nothing is wrong at all. Your form is merely more ... unique than expected. See for yourself."

For a few moments, Draco enjoyed his beautiful form, prancing about to see himself at various angles, snorting in equine laughter as he realized he could raise sparks with his silvery hooves, flicking his tail to watch the unique movement of the metallic hair strands. /- I am absolutely gorgeous! But will these hairs work for the wand? -/

Harry relayed the question to Ollivander, who shook himself out of his intense study of the magnificent animal before him. "They will work quite well indeed, Mr. Malfoy. In fact, as Mr. Potter performed the transformation based on you-as-a-unicorn, and did not specifically impose this type of unicorn form, any properties unique to the Silvered Unicorn's materials will be fully effective ... and very potent. I will ask that you also consider allowing me to harvest additional hairs at some time in the future, with full right of approval on the recipient. If there has been a true Silvered Unicorn in the past two hundred years, I haven't heard of it." He glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded in agreement. "Are you ready for me to pluck one strand each from your mane and tail? I will require the root of the hair to be intact."

The young unicorn nodded, then stood still as the wand crafter approached, bracing himself for the expected sting. Ollivander gently stroked the mane, weaving his fingers through the strands, letting his instincts choose just the right one. Separating one hair from the bunch, he held it at the base and deftly plucked it loose, causing only the slightest of flinches. He repeated the process with the tail hair, then returned to his work table. As Harry returned Draco to his human form, Ollivander repeated the process he had performed with Harry's wand. Instead of dripping dragon's blood onto the tip, he touched the end of each hair to the tip, waved his wand with a mutter, and the strand seemed to be sucked into the wand.

When the process was complete, Draco gingerly took his wand back from the stand. As he grasped the wand, it suddenly glowed a bright silver with green sparks, then settled into its usual appearance. "Sweet Merlin! This is a powerful wand!" he breathed. "I can almost feel my magic begging to be used." He carefully dispersed the reflective mist that Snape had earlier conjured, using a fraction of the energy he would have in the past. "It's so perfect," he whispered reverently, then looked at Ollivander. "I am in your debt, sir, and I don't mean galleons. Assuming that Harry is willing to perform the transformation again some time, I am willing to donate wand materials as needed for those who are not our enemies. At least," he added with a smirk, "those materials that can be harvested without permanent damage to the donor." Ollivander smiled and nodded in acceptance, then glanced up as he felt Harry again replenishing his energy.

"Professor Snape," Ollivander turned to his final customer of the night. "Your wand is aspen with basilisk venom. Again, we need a contrasting light-oriented donor. In your case, I would like Mr. Potter to transform you into a phoenix. Mr. Potter, if you would again focus on Snape-as-a-phoenix as opposed to a particular image of a phoenix, we can achieve the best results. During your demonstration the other day, I observed that both transfigurations closely resembled Albus' phoenix form. Was that deliberate?"

"You're right, sir," Harry answered. "I did focus more on a-phoenix-like-Albus than person-as-a-phoenix. Are you expecting something similarly unique for Severus?"

"Who knows, Mr. Potter? Who knows?" The old man smiled. "I can say that it is quite possible that an uncommon variety of phoenix will result because of his being Klaatu-shah. I believe that is the reason for Mr. Malfoy's uniqueness. Proceed when you and Professor Snape are ready."

At the Potion Master's nod, Harry began to concentrate. Severus Snape as a phoenix ... show me what Severus would be if he had been born a phoenix. Black hair and equally black eyes shifted to an intense midnight blue. As Ollivander had suspected, Snape was a very rare and unique type of phoenix. Where Fawkes or Dumbledore showed bright red, Snape showed sleek feathers ranging from dark midnight blue to the vivid medium blue hue that one would see in an intense flame. In place of gold, this phoenix displayed silver feathers.

"My word!" breathed Dumbledore. "Will wonders never cease? A Midnight Phoenix ... Fawkes, how long has it been since such a one of your cousins lived among humans?"

Harry's smile was touched with awe at the beauty of the form his co-mentor had taken. "Seven centuries, he says, and that the form is also called a Storm Phoenix because it has powers over lightning as well as flame." Even in jest, no one would ever liken this phoenix to a turkey. It had the grace of a swan.

Snape took a few moments to enjoy his form, flying around the Chamber, even engaging in a short race with Fawkes, who only barely won because of centuries of flying experience. His song was as unique as his appearance. Where a usual phoenix brought comfort and joy with its song, this song had an intensity that imparted strength, resolve, and implacable determination. Finally, he landed on the end of Ollivander's work table. /- So, is it a tail feather you're after? -/ Snape finally asked, knowing Harry would relay the conversation.

Ollivander was closely examining the dark phoenix with all his senses, comparing and contrasting to his earlier data regarding the wizard and his wand. "Actually, two smaller feathers might be more effective, I believe. Mr. Malfoy, your instincts were excellent earlier for Mr. Potter. What say you?"

Draco had been Scanning his Head of House almost from the moment of transformation. "Maybe even three, if he's willing, sir. Two small breast feathers, one dark blue, one lighter blue, plus a silver crest feather."

/- Trying to get me three times, when you only had two, hey? -/ Snape commented in a mostly joking manner. He turned his head towards Fawkes. /- I've seen you release a tail feather. Can the same be done for these, or must I endure ... plucking? -/

Fawkes trilled reassuringly, communicating to the near-phoenix how to release a feather without pain. Any feather forcibly taken would have greatly reduced magical properties, compared to one freely given. The humans were quite amused, though, to witness the odd shimmying dance the Midnight Phoenix performed in order to shake the donated feathers loose. In disgust at having so ... entertained his associates, he flew off the table to a clear space on the floor and, without thinking, transformed himself back to human form. "Yes, yes, laugh it up," he glared, then realized they were staring at him in surprise. "What?"

It was Draco who commented, "Well, I suppose you could say you 'pulled a Potter' ... how did you do that?"

"What? Make sense, Draco, I ..." He trailed off as he realized finally to what they were reacting. He had reversed the quite powerful transfiguration of a Magus. Even though Harry hadn't particularly tried to prevent such a thing, no wizard should have been strong enough. He had begun to accept that he was growing unusually powerful, but this ... He glanced at the Magus with a stunned expression.

Seeing that this realization was causing his friend intense discomfort, Dumbledore said, "Well, Octavius, it has been a long day, and tomorrow will likely be the same. Shall we finish?"

As Ollivander had earlier maneuvered the unicorn hairs, he now touched each feather to the propped aspen wand, first the midnight blue, then the slightly longer medium blue, and finally the shining silver crest feather. Each feather was absorbed with a flash of light matching its color. There was a faint smell of ozone in the air as an electrical discharge flickered about the wand before fading to a vague colorless glow.

When Snape gingerly took hold of his wand, he felt a moment of dizziness at the power surge, though he quickly exerted his will to gain control of this immensely powerful tool.

As Harry restored Ollivander's energy for the final time this night, he quietly observed, "Though you aren't a Magus, Severus, you are far more than any wizard, even among the Klaatu-shah. If not for the power taps in the Dark Marks and into the Dark Fortress, Voldemort himself wouldn't stand a chance, even with using my blood in his resurrection."

Draco's eyes widened, "Is that how he became so insanely powerful? Thank the gods you hadn't really transformed yet, that I could tell back then."

"Physically, no," agreed Dumbledore, "though from the events you described, your mind and will, Harry, were already growing in strength, or you couldn't have resisted Voldemort's Imperius, nor won that battle of wills during the Priori Incantatem. His will was largely responsible for his continued existence, yet you prevailed. Your blood could very well be the reason for his ability to assimilate so much stolen power."

Looking again at Snape, he continued, "Severus, though the Magus will need to be the one to face Voldemort himself, there will be many dark allies to overcome as well, both human and ... otherwise. It will fall to you, and to Draco," he glanced at the younger wizard, "to deal with what the Dark Fortress grants him, since you can challenge him as Klaatu-shah for that power and for command over his dark creatures."

Dumbledore suddenly stopped and began checking through all his pockets. He found a miniaturized manuscript that he set on a work table, enlarging it back to its normal size with a flick of his wand. "I have an odd feeling, Severus. This is the manuscript I had brought the day we discovered that Draco and you could read hidden texts. Something is urging me to have you read this ... now."

Snape stood beside Dumbledore as the headmaster paged over to the section holding the suspected hidden text. Draco came up beside him to read as well, and Harry came up on the other side of Dumbledore. Ollivander watched carefully from the seat where he was resting.

After a few moments, both Klaatu-shah had paled. "It ..." Snape whispered, but his voice seemed to give out, his glance to Draco almost begging, though the teen had trouble speaking as well. Taking a deep breath, Draco read:

"Three sons shall there be,

Sons of the Serpent three.

The first shall twice bind the second.

The second shall bind the third

but freely release him.

A moment from death

one binding will be broken

by power unmatched.

That same power

shall power release

that the Serpent's Heir

begin his rise.

None before nor after

will be known as the Heir.

None before nor after

can seal the Gate.

The Heir of the Demon,

of darkling wings,

shall face the Demon Lord.

And worlds shall fall or endure

as does he.

As endureth the Heir,

the first shall be last

and the second first.

He shall nurture the reborn son,

guide the son of his heart,

and mentor the only power

greater than his own.

The corruption of the dark twins

shall at last be offset

by Serpent twins of light.

And their line will include

the dragon's heart

to help usher in a new age."

Harry met, in turn, the eyes of each of his friends, then commented, "I hate prophecies."

It was a relief to finally relax. This evening was the start of three blissful days of vacation, badly needed after the last several brutal weeks. She was relaxed with a glass of white wine and the first book in her favorite fantasy series. The young woman was neither beautiful, nor ugly, but was anything but ordinary. Her appearance was pleasant, but her eyes, when she allowed, would tell her story in a compelling, vivid manner. Her flawless complexion was dark, described once as 'coffee with just a hint of cream'. A bit tall for a woman, she appeared to have an otherwise average build, but it was well trained and stronger than most would expect. Even the strong need downtime.

She wasn't going to get it.

Her cell phone rang. She checked the source and sighed, knowing she had to take the call. "Roger, this better be good," she said as she answered.

"Cleo," said the pleasant voice on the other end with more than a touch of regret. "I know you've been on a rough case, and need a break, but ..."

"Cut to the chase, Rog," she said with a sigh. Cleo knew that Roger wouldn't have called if he had a choice.

"It's one of yours, I think, Cleo," he said cryptically. "Murder, kidnapping, and a green skull with a snake for a tongue."

"Bloody hell. Where are you?" she demanded, abandoning her relaxation and searching for her oversized purse as she talked. He told her the hotel and room number where he was waiting. "Good, I have a spot there. I'll see you in less than five," she finished, snapping her phone shut. Standing a moment to shift back into a working frame of mind, she sent a regretful glance at her book, focused on a dark corner of a basement boiler room, and disappeared.

Three minutes later, she was exiting the elevator on the penthouse floor of an exclusive London hotel, digging out her badge to show the eager young guard. She could already feel the faint compulsion to approach and see what was going on inside.

"Go on in, Detective Shacklebolt. Lt. Pinkerton is expecting you," said the young officer, gesturing toward the slightly ajar door. Cleo wondered if she was ever that young, even though she was only a few years older than he was.

She tapped the base of the door with her foot to open it, pulling on gloves to protect any evidence. A sense of darkness permeated the suite. Glancing around at objects and at one body carefully displayed on a kitchenette counter, she realized, "Deciduous Boxtops? Their concert tomorrow has been sold out for months! The promoters will be distressed at having to refund so many tickets," she commented dryly. Then her eyes flickered to the aforementioned icon ... no doubt about it ... Voldemort's Dark Mark. "You were right, Roger," she admitted. "I do need to be on this case, and so does my cousin." She glanced pointedly at the forensic team that was just finishing up.

Her boss nodded and told the team, "Finish up and head out, boys and girls. This one is going to need the special consultant." These people had been working for him and with Cleo for almost two years now and knew how to keep their mouths shut about ... strange happenings. Each one glanced at the black-and-acid-green image tattooed on the body and painted in blood on the walls. As the last one left, Cleo stepped over to the door, throwing all the locks, then pulling out a slender willow wand, casting locking and privacy charms on the door. Roger plopped down on a couch in the sitting room, watching his magical counterpart.

Cleopatra Shacklebolt had trained as an Auror, following in the footsteps of her favorite cousin, Kingsley. However, her father was a Muggle police inspector, and she was also drawn to that world as well. She had approached Amelia Bones with a plan which was eventually pushed through channels and approved for a five year trial period. Cleo was a Muggle police detective, normally working on purely Muggle cases. However, her boss, Lt. Roger Pinkerton, and select others knew to call her in for any ... unusual cases. Anything with supernatural overtones, cult involvement, or other impossible happenings would bring her into a case for review. If there was any evidence of true magical involvement, she brought in a special consultant, a.k.a. cousin Kingsley. Roger's grandfather had been a Squib and he knew about magic, though he didn't have the slightest magical or psychic gift, unless you counted those instincts that made for a survivor. He had no fear of magic, and had complete trust in the honor and judgment of both Shacklebolt cousins.

Cleo pulled out her amulet, muttering a phrase to disable the built-in concealing charm. Her eyes flickered to Roger and her face showed a fleeting smile ... he so enjoyed watching magic, though he'd never admit it out loud. Holding the amulet in her right hand, she used the other (she was a 'lefty') to trace a smoky circle in the air before her. She had turned so that Roger could see the image that would shortly form. "Telesensorium ad Kingsley ab Cleopatra." She flinched slightly at having to use her full name, but the communications charm didn't acknowledge nicknames, only given names. She was puzzled that there was no answer, but then remembered her cousin mentioning duty at Hogwarts. "Blast it ... the wards," she muttered. She tried to think of the best alternate with a link to Hogwarts that would be outside the wards. Redrawing the circle, she decided on her favorite trainer. "Telesensorium ad Sylvia ab Cleopatra."

She was rewarded with a soft "Quis vocatus?" followed by a "Volo." As Sylvia Forester's image replaced the smoky disk, she answered, "Cleo! Fancy hearing from you. What's going on?"

"I need to call Kingsley, but I think he's inside the Hogwarts wards. As I recall, you're keyed to the headmaster. Can I get the favor of a relay?" asked Cleo.

"I can do better than that," smiled Sylvia. /- Shack? -/ she sent on the Hogwarts link, /- Cleo needs to reach you. Can you pop over here or are you in the middle of something? -/ In answer, she heard a sharp sound behind her. Turning, she saw the smiling face of the tall dark Auror.

He glanced at the floating circle to see Cleo's shocked expression. "Hello cousin. I take it this isn't a social call?" he asked, hoping it was, but knowing better.

Glaring at both of them, Cleo muttered, "You're going to explain that later, you know. Right now, Shack, I need you on a consultation. It looks like him."

Shacklebolt paled slightly, unusual considering his complexion, and turned to Sylvia. "Are you available to come along? We should have someone from your department involved if it is." Sylvia nodded, and after quickly opening the circle for transport, both Aurors stepped through to the London hotel room, braced for the worst.

Cleo and Roger were surprised that Kingsley had brought Sylvia. "Hello, Roger," started Kingsley in a quiet, deep bass. "This is Sylvia Forester, an Auror with the Unusual Spellcasters department. Well, it has a longer, sillier name, but you've had a bit of experience with Minister Fudge's ways so let's just leave it at that. Sylvia, this is Lt. Roger Pinkerton, Muggle law enforcement and Cleo's supervisor. Cleo and Roger comprise the Magical/Muggle Law Enforcement Liaison Pilot Program." He grimaced a bit at the wordy Fudge-instituted name. Quickly he summarized the purpose of both groups to familiarize everyone present. His eyes glanced around the room, collecting evidence as he spoke.

Roger then summarized his team's findings. "There is one dead body, cause of death unknown," he stressed the word to imply 'unknown to Muggles', "who appears to have been in extreme pain prior to or during death, though there are no visible injuries. The body was carefully arranged on the counter there, and a skull-motif tattoo applied on the chest, probably after death. Placed on his forehead is a black medallion with the same motif as the tattoo, done in green. The motif again is repeated on the wall in what appears to be blood. A rusty metal spike stuck in the wall beside the drawing has hanging from it eleven more medallions on black cords. They are red with a green skull-motif. On the reverse side of the medallions are the names of those who should be present here, the deceased one excluded, of course. I expect his medallion has his name on the back as well, though we haven't moved anything yet. The initial tentative evaluation is some new cult; personal involvement of the victims unknown."

Roger began pacing as he continued, "The party staying in this suite is, as you commented, the band Deciduous Boxtops and their crew. The deceased is the lead singer; there are four band members missing, as are four crew and three girlfriends. The band's manager, Freddie Penrose, had left for about an hour to meet with the director of the concert hall to finalize details for tomorrow's concert. When he returned, he saw this, contacted hotel security, went into hysterics, and fainted. He is not under suspicion since he was observed leaving and returning and the director vouches for his presence for nearly the entire time." He stopped pacing, paused, then look pointedly at the Aurors present. "That's the official report so far. My own speculation, stop me if I'm wrong, is that the skull motif is You-Know-Who's Dark Mark. The victim was, at the least, hit with the Cruciatus and Killing Curses. The others have been captured for unknown reasons. Since I felt a rather odd sensation when I reached this floor, I'm guessing there is some sort of attraction charm on the scene to ensure someone came to investigate. I never thought of Death Eaters as having the finesse for this kind of terrorism, but maybe You-Know-Who is trying out a new style. It appears the black medallion indicates death and the red medallion indicates capture, torture, or maybe even 'Take a guess, Muggle,'" he finished.

The Aurors glanced at each other, and Kingsley took over for the moment. "No disagreement so far, Roger. Before we do anything to disturb any magical evidence, I think we should call in one of the Scanners," he commented, looking at Sylvia.

"You mean we have truly qualified Scanners, plural, available?" asked Cleo in shock. "It's been years since there was someone good enough for forensic work. How soon can we get someone?"

"I agree. Though I hate to bring either of them in on a murder scene, it isn't as though they haven't seen death already," Sylvia commented sadly. She stepped over to the side of the room to check with Draco and Harry, while Kingsley quickly explained the Magus Circle and their mindspeech link to Cleo and Roger.

After bidding Ollivander a 'Good evening', Dumbledore, Snape, Draco and Harry had adjourned to Harry's sitting room to analyze yet another prophecy. Some parts weren't too hard to decipher, but others were totally confusing. It had been over an hour and they were thinking of trying to get some sleep, when Sylvia's mindcall came through.

/- Draco? Harry? Uncle Albus? Are you free to talk? -/ her mindvoice asked softly, but with a worried tone.

/- What is wrong, my dear? -/ asked Dumbledore, concerned at his niece's unsettled state of mind. He quickly signaled Snape to join the conversation.

The Auror succinctly explained to her stunned friends what was going on. /- We badly need your professional input, Draco. You are a licensed Master Scanner, and we need someone eligible to present evidence to review the scene. I'd also like Harry ... Darius, that is, to join you for protection. There might be some nasty traps here. It's not the usual type of Death Eater incident ... far too creative ... so I'm expecting the unexpected. -/

After a rapid mental conversation, it was decided that Draco and Darius would meet Sylvia outside the crime scene, inside the elevator a few floors down from the penthouse. Dumbledore and Snape would remain behind, but would observe through the link to advise the younger wizards if needed. As Sylvia took the elevator down, stopping it between floors, the rest of the investigators left the hotel suite, waiting near the elevator door on the penthouse level.

Sylvia was pacing in the small elevator car, when she heard, /- Stand still, Sylvi. -/ Harry's mindvoice laughed gently. /- That's not exactly the largest Apparition target in the world, you know. -/ She blushed as she moved into a corner, forcing herself to stand still. In a moment, she was joined by two young men in Muggle outfits, causing the elevator car to bounce a bit. She noticed that, though they were dressed in a similar fashion, the differences in their clothes emphasized the differences in their personalities. Though both wore black boots, black pants, and dark, tailored long-sleeved shirts, Darius wore black corduroy and a midnight-blue cotton shirt, while Draco wore black leather with a dark gray silk shirt.

With a wave of her wand, the stalled elevator began to move back up to the top floor. Sylvia noticed that Draco already had a faraway look in his silvery eyes, and Darius looked every bit the alert, on-guard warrior. She pulled out a magical recorder, similar to what journalists used at press conferences, so that the Scanner's report would be taken down accurately.

"There is some sort of attraction charm in place," Draco reported softly. "It's like a reverse of the Muggle-repelling charm, though it affects wizards as well, to a lesser extent. Whoever did this didn't want to be ignored. I don't recognize the magical signature, though." The elevator door opened, and as Draco exited a few steps, he closed his eyes to remove visual distractions. He staggered a bit as he was swamped with a great deal of magical residue. "Bloody hell," he murmured, before again opening his eyes. "Auror Shacklebolt," he acknowledged shortly, then looked at the others present. "May I impose upon you to perform the introductions?"

Kingsley quickly introduced Cleo, Roger, and the officer guarding the door, one Daniel Creevey. "And this is Master Scanner Draco Malfoy and Darius, the Magus." He glanced at Roger and Daniel to see if he needed to explain further. He was pleasantly surprised to see Roger nodding his head slowly, and was startled at the frightened look on Officer Creevey's face.

"Creevey?" Draco commented, arching one eyebrow. He glanced at Darius, who was looking closely at the Muggle.

Seeing that the others didn't have any problems with a Malfoy's presence, Danny Creevey relaxed slightly and explained. "My younger brothers, well, half-brothers, attend Hogwarts. I believe you know Colin and Dennis. It seems the magical genes came from their mother, my step-mum, since I'm as Muggle as they come. I'm part of this team because I'm comfortable around magic, even though I can't do any. I ... well, I guess you're the last person I'd expect to see here, from what I've heard. I mean ..." he trailed off in embarrassment.

Darius chuckled and said in a mellow, reassuring voice, "Don't worry, Officer Creevey. Draco is one of the good guys now, and he's the best Scanner alive."

While Creevey and Darius were talking, Draco had become distracted, drifting around the hallway. "They portkeyed in over here," he said as he stopped at the end of the hall farthest from the elevator. "There were four of them. I recognize Barry Nott, Desiree Devereaux, and Goyle Senior. Interesting that they would bring a novice like Barry. I don't recognize the fourth, but it was a male ... the same one that cast the attraction charm." He drifted back towards the elevator, flinching as he approached. "They Crucio'd someone here."

Kingsley cleared his throat to carefully get Draco's attention. "Will you be able to do a visual projection of those involved, as you did with the Hand of Glory?"

"I'm not sure ... I don't have a strong magical artifact to focus on yet. Maybe there will be something inside that will work. Darius? I'll need your help on that, you know," Draco commented. He was working hard to stay nonchalant, but the magical residue was very uncomfortable, and he was still outside the 'scene of the crime'.

Darius stepped over, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder, quietly sending /- Tell me what I can do to help, Draco. -/

/- Just being here ... that helps, -/ Draco sighed softly, basking in the friendship and strength of the Magus. He readjusted his senses and his shields, trying to find the right balance. /- They left a scrying spell behind ... we're being watched, -/ Draco sent to those present with whom he shared a mindspeech link, as well as the two observers at Hogwarts. /- Shall we give them a good show? -/ Straightening his shoulders, he headed for the door of the suite. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Several times over the next hour, Draco had to step back out into the hallway and rest from the overwhelming dark magic residue within. He identified spell residue of various tortures throughout the rooms, leaving the medallions and the body for last. In two spots, he spotted trap spells meant to snare magical investigators. Darius disarmed the traps after both of them reported on the spells in detail. As out in the hall, there was a scrying spell set in cobwebs in an upper corner of each room. Just before attempting contact with the medallions, Draco stepped out again for a full ten minutes, while Darius sent healing energy through to the young Scanner's battered senses.

Danny and Roger, though non-magical, knew enough to be in awe at Malfoy's gifts and even more, his determination. They could see how badly this work was affecting him. Cleo, Kingsley, and Sylvia, with their greater appreciation for what Draco was accomplishing, were absolutely stunned at the detailed, comprehensive report he was making, and his dogged insistence on completing the investigation despite his fatigue and discomfort. All parties were also surprised how the Magus, obviously a man of incredible power, quietly deferred to the younger wizard, staying in a supporting role unless called upon for an occasional precautionary shield. Here and there, Snape or Dumbledore would contribute additional information regarding some of the spells that Draco identified.

Finally, Draco braced himself and headed for the red medallions. As he reached toward them, he hesitated. Darius stepped forward. "Draco, let me do the preliminary Scan on these. You can watch through the link, and just work on the parts I miss." After a moment, the Slytherin sighed and agreed. Darius brushed his fingertips along the edges of the eleven hanging medallions, tensing with the residual pain and dark magic each one emanated. "Since you're the one with the license, you should continue with the dictation," he said in a harsh whisper.

As the recorder continued to do its work, Draco quietly reported on the torturous spells used on each victim while wearing their personalized medallions. After finishing, Roger commented, "I would guess they knew there would be a Scanner called in. It's as though they wanted us to know exactly what was done here."

"But I didn't know there might be a forensic Scanner available," protested Cleo.

"Ah," said Sylvia softly, looking at Darius and Draco, "but Voldemort did know, didn't he, Draco?" The young wizard nodded.

The two Scanners forced themselves to finish with the bloody Dark Mark on the wall, and finally the body, tattoo, and black medallion. It was the body that Draco used to generate, with the help of the Magus, a magical hologram of those that were present. Among the Aurors present, all four perpetrators were identified, including the image of the now painfully familiar Martin Bletchley.

/- Well, Sir Magus, -/ commented Draco as they were ready to head out of the room again. /- Have you thought of a nice, nasty way to dismantle those scrying spells? -/

/- Oh yes, -/ Darius answered with an almost Slytherin smirk. /- Severus had some wonderful input, and I've come up with something that should send some nasty magical feedback when I break them down all at once. -/

Catching the eyes of the two Muggles and Cleo Shacklebolt, Darius sent to them and the others, /- There is an observation spell in each room and the outer hall. I'm going to 'short out' the 'cameras', so to speak. There will be a very intense light on the count of three, so I'd advise you to close your eyes on 'two'. -/

Though in the form of Darius, Harry felt his scar hurt for just a moment, right after the scrying spells were countered. For the second time that day, he was more than willing to put up with the pain, knowing it meant that Voldemort was royally ticked off.

"Well, I'd say our work here is done for now," commented Darius. "How does the cleanup crew work for something like this?"

Kingsley answered for the Aurors. "The medallions, that section of the wall, and the body will be put under protection and preservation spells, then taken to the Department of Mysteries for further analysis. The recorder and pensieve memories of the Aurors present will be filed as evidence with the Department of Law Enforcement. We'll repair the wall and leave a transfigured body without the tattoo, cause of death will appear to be an overdose of recreational drugs and alcohol (which other evidence shows were in use here tonight). Cleo, Roger, and Daniel will have the full story, and they know how to play the necessary games with our Muggle counterparts."

"This isn't over, you know. There are eleven missing," commented Cleo. "And I have a bad feeling that this type of attack will be used again. Someone among the DEs has a twisted mind for horror. We may be able to cover up the magical implications from the Muggles, but our people will know. This band is insanely popular in the Muggle world, and with most of the party missing, the publicity will be unstoppable. They were probably chosen for their high visibility. We won't be able to keep this quiet. I'll wager the Prophet has the details some time over the weekend."

Kingsley looked over at the recovering young Scanner, then stepped over, extending his hand. Draco took it hesitantly and the Auror clasped the Scanner's hand with both of his. "I can't tell you how much you've helped us tonight. You have my sincere respect and gratitude, Lord Malfoy," he said in his deep rumbling voice, bowing slightly to Draco's shock.

"Oh, and Draco?" called Sylvia, as the two wizards prepared to return to Hogwarts, "don't forget to send the Ministry a bill for your services. Send it to my attention at Arthur's office." Smiling at the gobsmacked expression on the teen's face, she elaborated. "The Ministry has a payment limit on professional services, but even that isn't too bad, though private hires pay up to four times as much. For a Master Scanner, the rate is fifty galleons per half-hour or fraction thereof. Make the bill out for two hours. I'll lobby with Bones for a bonus ... I think she'll agree once she reviews our reports and the evidence." With a mischievous smile, she waved her hands, shooing them off. "You both look beat. Get Poppy or Severus to give you some Dreamless Sleep and get yourself some sack time. You've earned it."

to be continued