The air sizzled and fizzed with magic criss-crossing in the damp air. Curses met, splitting the air, the grass pockmarked with burns and gouges.
"Give it up, Cockburn!" The suggestion was met with a heavy crack and a sudden splintering of wood right above his head, severing the branch. There was a groan as it swung down towards the ground. Lawrence took a dive to the right, rolling in the wet grass to avoid being squashed, wand kept up in left hand.

His young trainee partner shot another curse in the direction of the wizard hiding in the trees and so began another frantic exchange of curses, hexes. Lawrence's shield spell took a battering but held firm as he attempted to advance. If he could get a bit closer with a better line he could take the bugger out.

No sooner had he got two paces forward, but a bright fireball erupted to his alarm. It was not aimed at him but straight at his trainee partner, Aldridge who went over backwards. Tough first few months for him, twenty-eight year old Lawrence reflected, the kid had only joined them fresh from Hogwarts that summer.
"Alridge you alrigh'?" Musgrave called, maintaining his shield, trying to see where the younger wizard had landed. The groan of response was accompanied by a thumbs up protruding from the long grass. It was enough confirmation for today's mentor, who was hell-bent on snaring their wanted wizard.

Ahead of them, there was a cry of anguish. Those anti-apparition charms were holding nicely that they laid on arrival. The momentary distraction with Alridge out of action had given the wizard a chance to try. "Oi Cockburn!" Lawrence yelled, "You can hide but you can't run."

Famous. Last. Words.

Lawrence swore and took off after the wizard through the trees, catching snatches of shoulder, head and cloak for direction. From his reckoning of the low afternoon sun and the increasing sound of running water - Afon Cynon, Lawrence recalled from studying the map before time - they were headed in precisely the wrong direction.
"ALDRIDGE!" Lawrence bellowed as he ran, "We need obliviators!"
"On it!" The croaky voice was distant over his crashing feet as he rushed forward, wand in hand in pursuit. Hopefully Tait would follow them both as soon as he could - it looked like he'd been winded at the very least. He'd not been knocked unconscious which was a plus. Trainee or not, Lawrence didn't like leaving a partner behind when he'd been knocked down. Another set of eyes were worth it, even if the wand was not yet up to strength.

The long grass snagged at their boots as they ran one after the other through the brambles, bushes and trees heavy with autumn rain from earlier in the afternoon. The lazy sun was behind the cloud blanket above them and did little to lighten the path in the shadows of the trees. Every time the figure ahead of him pitched, Lawrence threw a curse, hoping to send Cockburn pitching into the mud or knock him out. Cockburn's wand held a shield that ricocheted every attempt from Lawrence that landed. With every second that passed they were drawing closer to Muggle inhabited areas and outside of the anti-apparition boundary. He had to bring an end to this chase.

Twang!

Barbed wire fence up ahead sprang apart and Lawrence threw a stunner which caught the unprotected left shoulder of Cockburn, who had dropped his shield to break the fence. The curse sent the wizard pitching him over the side of the stream's embankment and down into the water. Lawrence pressed on, sprinting after him to the edge. As he lurched towards the edge, he discovered it hadn't been enough and the bugger, muddy and soaked, was scrambling across the rocks and out the other side. Lawrence did not waste a moment in sliding down the muddy embankment after him, arms out to either side to keep his balance. He tried not to take his eyes off the wizard getting away, but it was difficult.

Panting hard, he splashed haphazardly through the water over the rocks. Cold water soaked his jeans and splashed as high as his face and hands. He hoped that Aldridge wasn't too far behind. The younger man was quick enough on his feet and would see the path carved through the undergrowth. Lawrence splashed out the other side of the stream, sides beginning to ache with the effort. He chanced a spell on his boots to make him fleet of foot and scrambled up the other bank and through yet more trees until they were out onto a lane that inclined upwards from the water.

Lawrence swore in his head, saving his breath and swung his head round to check for any signs of Muggles. The lane was lined with trees with just enough leaves and there was a gentle bend that obscured them somewhat from what was ahead. Seizing his last chance at the running figure ahead which too was fading in energy, Lawrence flicked his wand. The trip jinx yanked Cockburn's feet from beneath him and he fell, tip of his wand snapping to the auror's satisfaction. But determined still, Cockburn picked himself up before Lawrence could pounce and continued to run as hard as he could away from the auror. At least he couldn't disapparate with a broken wand, Lawrence realised. They were outside of the anti-apparition boundary they'd laid. Cockburn was running out of puff, so Lawrence summoned what reserves he had as they emerged out of the trees, past a lamppost and into a street.

The auror met the wizard hard in a ungraceful rugby tackle. They both landed face first on the tarmac, Lawrence sprawled over the top, fall broken by his captive. The pair of them were breathing too heavily to speak. Lawrence seized one of Cockburn's arms and then the other, yanking the hands up between shoulderblades before kneeling on the wizard's back, panting.

It was only then he looked up and spied an old man sat on a bench staring at them from where they had come. More noticeable was the approaching gaggle of parents outside of the school they had nearly reached, all staring at him oddly. They looked like a bunch of gazelles observing a lion ripping into one of them, transfixed, but reassured that the predator was sated for a moment. Lawrence might have seen the comparison had he ever seen a wildlife programme, or a television for that matter.

"It's alright, I'm a police officer!" Lawrence called, though it was hard to project with lack of breath. He dropped his gaze to the back of the other wizard's head. "You utter knob, why d'ya run?" He growled at his arrest. "Now we've got Statute breaches to add to your list. Do you know how much bloody paperwork that is?!"

They were both catching their breath when Lawrence saw a familiar figure running down the road in the other direction towards them.

"Oh bloody hell, you took your time!" Lawrence panted, still kneeling on the back of his captive arrest. The idiot now had his face pressed into the wet tarmac below him, crown of the head an inch from the kerb. Had Lawrence brought Cockburn down a fraction of a second later it would have been a lot messier on the pavement.

It was small consolation that both Musgrave and Cockburn were dressed in Muggle attire and drew less attention with that respect. Lawrence's tight brown curls cascaded over the shoulders of a leather jacket speckled with damp blades of grass. His blue jeans were wet and smeared with mud and grass stains from the chase through trees, fields and the water. The other wizard was no better and their breaths clouded in the cold. Lawrence would bet that Glass hadn't needed to run half as far.

The figure beneath him shifted.
"No don't even think about moving." Lawrence growled at the body beneath him, landing his knee down hard to emphasise the point. His wand was gripped in his left hand at the base of the wizard's neck, tip sticking into the back of Cockburn's skull. As it was flat against the back of the wizard on the ground it was less visible to the Muggles.

"Couldn't exactly appa- appear right here could I?" Edwin protested, a little breathless, leaning over to brace himself on the tops of his legs with his hands after the run. At forty-one he was not as young as his two colleagues.

They had been on standby. Cockburn was wanted for cursing a Muggle family in the village. The children had apparently heckled him for his appearance and he'd left them without eyes and mouths. Edwin and other obliviators had been down to Penywaun once that week to help sort the initial upset along with the reversal squad.

Edwin couldn't get to grips with the Welsh accent. He'd had more than one awkward moment staring at a local Muggle trying to understand what had just been asked, and now he was about to have some more. It made amending their memories a little tricker to be sure what was going on.

Cockburn's sister, who he was living with, was furious with him. She had raised the alarm he'd finally come home that afternoon, and the aurors - or as it seemed, Musgrave - had been despatched immediately to apprehend him. Edwin couldn't imagine a woman so scorned she'd turn in her brother so readily, but up until that moment he'd not met Cockburn, and he'd given his own sisters no need for such rash action. It was hard to get a good look at the wizard on the ground as Lawrence had his face pressed into the asphalt.

Standing up properly again, straightening his suit jacket and loosening his tie, Edwin quickly assessed that Lawrence was fine with his captive. He had that slightly mad look in his eye that he got when they drank too much and Edwin had to stop him starting a fight.

Edwin surveyed the passers-by, mostly parents on their way to pick up their children from school on a Wednesday afternoon. He'd just run through them all from the other end of the street. Their faces were full of curiosity, keeping tight hold of smaller children by the hand.

"Of all the places-."
"Oi!" Lawrence snapped, not in the mood, still full of adrenaline, red in the face, "Him over there - sat on the bench."

Lawrence lifted his right hand to point before snapping it back. Edwin followed his gaze. The Muggle was staring back at the three of them, shaky hand gripped round a brown paper bag with a tell-tale shape.
"Hardly worth my time Loz," Edwin shook his head, and shrugged. "Think he's drinking vodka at quarter past three in the afternoon by a primary school. Nobody's going to believe him." He looked back to his level two colleague who glared and then looked back over his shoulder.

"Well do me a favour and help me get him out of here. I've lost Aldridge back there." Lawrence snapped, shifting his weight to get up. They couldn't stay where they were. The school children would be out soon and the lane would get busy.
"You got his wand?" Edwin asked in a low voice.
"It's under him, grab it when I haul him up."

It took a moment and a bit of a struggle to get Cockburn upright. He protesting against Lawrence's grip. Edwin snatched up the wand from the ground and slid it away as quickly as he could, glancing around them again. They might have got away with it. In the distance in the direction Lawrence had run from there was a figure jogging towards them up the hill.
"Looks like your trainee made it out."

After all the running, Lawrence would much prefer to use an upper body bind on Cockburn and march him away, but with so many Muggles watching he had to keep his wand away. He glanced back over his shoulder, still grappling the other wizard and saw the trainee.

"'Bout bloody time!" He yelled at Tait. "Hrmph." He added more quietly to Edwin, "Did knock him for six back there." Lawrence grumbled, rather glad to see Alridge on his feet and making progress towards them. Tait raised a hand, thankfully not full of wand, in apology as he continued to jog towards them.

The wizard Musgrave had a firm grasp of was moaning and leaned his weight against Lawrence which was not conducive to walking.
"What's up with you?!" Lawrence snapped and looked down to Cockburn's feet as he appeared to be standing on one leg. "Ah crap, Ed, his foot's a bit mangled, no not Tait, Cock's. You're gonna have to give me a hand to get him out of sight."

Edwin was doing his best to keep his hands clean, or so it seemed by the way he wasn't drawing too close to Lawrence. He was dressed for work in a Muggle suit. Not exactly what you wore to blend in, in such a street in Wales, but important enough looking, Lawrence supposed.
"Seriously?" Edwin grumbled, examining their feet before giving a laboured sigh. "Looks like you've broken his ankle Loz."

There was an anguished cry from the fellow between them as he tried to put it down and confirmed the initial diagnosis. Lawrence was much displeased. If it wasn't hard enough to just keep a grip on Cockburn without magic, now he couldn't walk. Edwin obligingly came forward to help at least.
"It could have been both our necks the way he shot off." Lawrence sneered, slinging Cockburn's right arm up and around Edwin's shoulders, ensuring his colleague had a firm grip of the wrist. The obliviator was two inches shorter than him, and Lawrence's boots only added to the height difference. He pulled the left arm over his own shoulders and gripped Cockburn's wrist with his right hand. Merlin he was heavy.

"Come on Cocky," Lawrence spoke with forced brightness, accidentally-on-purpose catching his right boot on the injured left foot as they attempted to set off.
"Bastard!" Cockburn roared, in visible pain. The man on the bench took a hefty swig from the brown paper bag as if feeling the pain.
"Language! There are children nearby." Lawrence pointed out, as if entirely innocent of triggering the response. "Do you want us to hex away your mouth too? You've caused us no end of trouble Cockburn. We shall enjoy waving you off to Azkaban."
"Yer gotta gerrus th'rre fir'"

"What did he say?" Edwin asked with a frown. Lawrence rolled his eyes. Edwin never mixed very well with the common man. He might not have been born upper class but he rubbed shoulders with it every day and it was rubbing off on him. One day he'd be up the top of the Ministry for it, Lawrence predicted. Fieldwork only interested Edwin so far. He was a damn fine obliviator, and a good friend, calm in a crisis and well organised. He'd stopped Lawrence making a complete idiot of himself on quite a few nights.
"We have got to get him there first." Lawrence translated, purposefully over enunciating each word to take the piss out of the obliviator. "Ed you posh git how did you not understand that?"

The trainee auror reached them at last and Lawrence greeted his junior with a grin, not angry. "Alridge! Well done for calling the cavalry. Pity it's just Glass. You weren't to know."
"Ha, ha, ha." Edwin replied sarcastically, installing Aldridge as his replacement under Cockburn's arm with relief. The trainee gave his attacker a once over with his eyes before he ducked under and took up the slack. "Let's get him out of the bloody way and get back to London in the warm," Edwin suggested.
"Warm!" Lawrence scoffed as he, Alridge and Cockburn lumbered forward together. "I dunno Aldridge, it's not like Glass just ran through a river to catch a man. Tsk. Typical obliviator, swooping in at the last possible minute... You'll get used to that, or so they'd like…"


End