Continued from The Last Red Leaves Fall

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11:00pm







The door of the currant-red telephone box opened with a click as the smooth voice bid him farewell. The Ministry of Magic’s glorious, polished atrium was silent, save for a steady rush of water from the golden fountain. Jets from the wands of the witch and wizard, the point of the centaur’s arrow, the tip of the goblin’s hat and the house-elf ’s ears continued to gush into the surrounding pool, as oblivious to unfolding scenes as the Muggles above.

Lawrence’s unsteady heart beat louder than all of it. He swallowed down the acid invading his raw throat and struggled to draw another deep breath, fight collapse with what adrenaline remained.

Maybe he should have taken poison before this. Kept the last ounce of control of his life, died right here… but he wasn’t a coward. Hard as it might be to believe.



Lawrence took one modest step forward out of the telephone box, eyes fixed on the floor before him, expression vacant. His head was empty, he watched himself move like an onlooker. His body was here, but his mind had departed. It would all soon be over, the running was ending. His exhausted knees gave way, and he sank down ungracefully onto the hard floor. The former auror stretched out his right arm along the smooth floor, wand in his remaining hand, and rolled it away from him, out of his reach. The hawthorn wood clattered across the tiles, closely followed by the metallic ping of the metal visitor’s badge he had been issued.




He closed his eyes and sank back on his heels and knees. Lawrence forced himself to straighten his aching back, hood falling back over his shoulders to clearly reveal his identity. The wanted wizard opened his dark eyes to the waiting party and raised his arms above his head, hand empty, left hand absent.

Habitually five o’clock meant the end of the work day for most ministry personnel. Very often, on Level 2, it meant the time their specific working hours were done but most stayed well after if working on an important case or on the night shift. The ministry grew quiet between five and six o’clock, only the more dedicated amongst them remaining. But when Ed received the call to immediately come to the minister’s office just gone five that afternoon, he’d had a feeling it would be a long and certainly not quiet night.

Lawrence’s previous messages had come to Level 2 as far as Ed was aware and he, before checking for definite, confirmed the handwriting matched that of those he’d received. Under orders, he’d stationed an auror with their new Minister for Magic and questioned Mr Pickler (ironically the brother of the politically perfect Penelope Pickler from the bloody course on hugging vampires).

Around the atrium, aurors were stood on guard waiting for something that may never happen. Hitwizards were patrolling the depths of the ministry and a few aurors were on Level 1 ensuring the Minister’s safety. Ed stood near the fountain, wand out, heart pounding as the red telephone box descended with the lone figure within. His eyes didn’t stray from the newest arrival despite sensing his boss nearby who’d been pacing irritatingly.

Ed didn’t move. His staff had orders, precise ones.
Shoot to stun, not kill.

If he showed himself, Musgrave needed to be incapacitated. He was useless to them dead.

The figure stepping out of the phone box was hooded. Ed lifted his right hand, signalling to the aurors not to strike yet. They didn’t know it was Lawrence and there was no immediate sign of attack. Instead they watched as he suddenly sank to his knees and his wand clattered to the floor. Ed kept his hand raised, staring intently at the figure.

Lawrence Musgrave sat back on his heels and the hood dropped to reveal the face of a wizard who was more in need of medical attention than anything else. His hands were raised, a sign of surrender. Ed’s hand lowered and he pointed his wand at the abandoned one on the floor which shot into the air towards him.

“It’s not this easy.” The wizard whispered under his breath, eyes darting around the enormous atrium.

Neville had never met Lawrence Musgrave. The Auror, or rather Ex-Auror had been before his time. He knew the Wanted Posters though, he knew the mounting crimes leveled against the man. Everyone did. There was something personal, something 'unspoken' about hunting one of their own. It was a certain sense of betrayal, one you didn't need to be personally involved to feel. When one signed up to the Crimson Corps. they were offering their lives, their souls, their everything to upholding justice for all wizarding kind. When that oath, that service was betrayed it left a sour taste in the mouths of all those around them, even years after the events occurred. So when there was word that Musgrave wanted to surrender, Neville was there, as he felt all the Aurors should have been.

Not far from where Pratt stood Neville had his wand primed and ready. A hush had fallen over the gathered Law Enforcement. Time seemed to stretch out as the visitor box descended and the figure emerged. A horrible pit of ice rolled in his stomach. This was not some great dark wizard. This was not a self righteous Death Eater fighting tooth and nail for their twisted ideal, nor a soldier following the orders of a Dark Master. This was an old and broken man. One who looked just as ready to die as he did to surrender.

A gasp escaped Neville's lips when the man fell to the floor and he had to fight his better nature, one that was ready to run to the man's side and help him up. Fighting his willpower he watched Pratt retrieve the scattered wand as he whispered under his breath. Neville couldn't help but agree. Something felt wrong about this entire ordeal. Which made him tighten, become more alert. This charade had given him a small measure of doubt, something he wasn't pleased with. There had to be something more to it. He was certain Musgrave was just a decadent piece of cheese and if they reached him a metal bar would come crashing down to snap them all.

Solomon had been pacing since ten in the evening, an easy thing to do in the vast Atrium. He felt secure of the Minister's safety and of the general calm that prevailed over the other floors - far from its usual atmosphere but controlled nonetheless, as a result of so advance a warning. Red was the dominant colour of robes surrounding the visitor entrance, save his own black set.

He regretted this when the descent from the phone booth necessitated stillness. They should have brought Healers.

Lawrence Musgrave was unrecognisable. Sol himself had no recent memory of the man, even if he could discern the features that led to the only logical conclusion of identity. The surrendered wand shot to Pratt but it was the visitor's badge that Solomon gestured towards with his own accio. It sped towards him and he caught it in one hand, spectacled gaze quickly examining the name and purpose.

Nobody moved.

They could not remain stationary all evening, however. Could not wait for the other shoe to drop if there was in fact another one at all. He ran his thumb over the badge thoughtfully as he looked back at their 'visitor'. The department head touched the tip of his wand to his throat. Sonorus.

He glanced to Pratt, conveying his obvious intent, and then took one step forward. It echoed in the great space.

"Lawrence Musgrave." Solomon's voice came as a gentle, coaxing boom. "We acknowledge your resolve to surrender yourself to Magical Law Enforcement. You are advised not to make any sudden movements."

After a moment's hesitation, he ended the amplifying charm and moved quietly to Pratt's side. "Two Aurors to approach and disarm - gently if you'd please." The order was given for Ed to convey - but overheard well enough in the overarching silence for the other Aurors present to take it directly. Solomon did not look away from the figure, whose stance and risen arms must have been an exhausting chore in itself.

In truth, he half-expected to hear an explosion come from some other corner of the Ministry. Yet there was nothing.

Andromeda waited in the atrium. She was ready for a fight. When Musgrave fell to his knees she was shocked. Andie did not move. She had her wand ready. She watched Pratt's signal. She did not like this situation. What was he doing? Andie had duelled Musgrave about a month ago. They had fought at Hampstead Heath. He looked weak now. How did they not catch him? It made her angry. Pratt took his wand. Carstairs took the badge. He spoke. Andie watched for the signal.

She looked at her partner. Then moved carefully. She did not trust Musgrave. The closer she got the worse he looked. Andromeda stared at him. "Do not move." She cast Laxus silently on his arms. They bound them behind his back. He smelled of bad earth. Andromeda crouched on her toes beside him on the right. She waited for another signal.

Neville silently came to the former Auror's side opposite Gamp. He nodded to his partner as she lashed his arms. Neville's skin was crawling. He hadn't felt this uncomfortable in the line of duty in a very long time. Musgrave was a well practiced Wizard and he had been a good Auror, from what Neville had heard. He could have easily started an attack, sprung a trap. This man before them though, this man was a mere shadow of himself but he wasn't any less dangerous. At least that's how Neville decided to view him. Just because he looked weak and run down and was here to surrender didn't mean any of them could let their guard down.

Neville knelt down with the man and sent furtive glances to his current partner. He had worked with Gamp on a few cases over the last year or so since he had returned to the Corps. She was a good Auror, one of the best he had worked with. She was strong and competent and didn't let emotions get in her way. He admired that of her, especially after what had happened back in February. He couldn't even imagine what she must have gone through with what her Father had done.

He looked back to Pratt and Carstairs waiting for their next order. Was it really going to be this easy? Just walk up, tie up and be done with it? There was too much tension in the room. Everyone was on edge. Everyone was expecting something more, something . . . better. Musgrave was on the Ministry's Most Wanted list, going down like this was really just pathetic.

For a short moment, the silence of the atrium was deafening. Baited breath, tense muscles surrounded him with poised wands and keen eyes. Then, Lawrence heard the wood of the wand slide unevenly across the floor, and lift up with a clatter, summoned by one of the number. A hushed gasp and whispering, confirmation at who he was and the disbelief that this could just be it.

The visitor’s badge went second, and Lawrence swallowed, still sunk back on his heels, arms raised. He heard it ring across the tiled floor ahead of a footstep. Lawrence’s brow flinched at the noise, anticipating a blow. It didn’t come, but the voice which addressed him brought open his bloodshot eyes. The acknowledgement allowed Lawrence to exhale a little of the breath he was holding and he tipped his chin down in signal that he understood, and in mild relief.

Feet approached, sure, quick and light footsteps across the tiles his wand and visitor’s badge had just slid back over. He recognised Andromeda Gamp’s voice as she issued a repeat order not to move. His arms dropped from above his head in an instant, hanging limp by his sides and he was tipped forward by the shift in weight. A split second later they were bound behind him, bringing him up straight again. Out of the corner of his eye he recognised Longbottom from the papers. The aurors flanked him either side, crouched, awaiting commands.

For all his strong resolve to get himself this far, and the efforts and extents he’d taken to avoid capture, to be finally in the custody - and relative care - of others after so long, brought strong emotions to the surface. Lawrence was at his wit’s end, and even to be locked away by aurors was safety. He was desperate for a new reason, different motives.

He curled forwards, inhaling an unsteady, silent sob and screwed shut his eyes before swallowing, loud enough to be heard by Longbottom and Gamp. He uncurled almost immediately after, and looked out across the atrium at the gathered audience, to Pratt and Carstairs who were in control, showing him alarming mercy considering what they were pursuing him for. He was grateful. Ira and Layton would have broken him into pieces, kept him conscious to enjoy it. Still could.

With Gamp and Longbottom’s help, Lawrence was brought to his feet, arms bound behind him, and was walked steadily away from where the telephone box had ascended up to street level. Lawrence moved obediently, offering no attempt to struggle, far too weary to try. As they drew close, he looked first to Pratt, Head Auror and Lawrence hoped, level headed. He’d sent Pratt more than one present in the past year, and he’d followed them up both. Lawrence looked clearly exhausted, a little worried by the deepening lines between his eyebrows as he examined Ed, before his dark brown eyes slid to regard Solomon Carstairs with trepidation.

Any other day he might have uttered one of a dozen cocky comments, but his voice had deserted him. Better let Pratt do the honours, formally arrest him. Probably a long list.

The closer Longbottom and Gamp brought Musgrave, the worse the wizard looked. Ed didn’t move from his position and neither did he lower his wand. An auror since his early 20s, the wizard was habitually suspicious of most situations and this one certainly ranked the top of possibly suspect circumstances. The criminal currently being restrained and surrounded by highly trained aurors and hitwizards would have set most worries aside but Ed wasn’t willing to relax. Anything could still happen; this could still be a dreadful trap.

Musgrave looked half dead when he was finally stood in front of the Head Auror. His skin was a sickly pallor, his hair greasy and plastered to his face. Lawrence Musgrave, quite incongruously, looked worse than he had at the end of his incarceration in Azkaban Prison. Freedom habitually suited a person far better than imprisonment. Freedom, however, didn’t customarily include dementor takeover and attempted murders.

“Fetch a healer. He shall have medical attention before anything else.” A nearby auror was ordered while Ed’s bright green eyes didn’t once leave the new prisoner.

“Lawrence Musgrave, I am arresting you for the attempted murder of Hannah Bombay and Ignan Storm, attempted murder and arson with intent at the Leaky Cauldron, attempt to control dangerous beasts including dementors, aggravated assault by hex and use of excessive magical force, use of an unforgivable curse, resisting arrest, breaking and entering, harassment, theft, and failing to report for parole. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in front of the Wizengamot. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.” Pratt was under the impression he’d covered everything.

Bright eyes flashed to Gamp and Longbottom.
“He stinks, get him a wash and fresh clothes.” It didn’t matter how many crimes the wizard had committed; Ed would not be sat across a table from an offence on his nose.

Andie looked back at Neville. She did not trust Musgrave. She felt better for Neville being there. She trusted Neville. Lawrence moved between them. Andie watched him suspiciously. Was he crying? This was very very strange. The signal came to move. Andie and Neville got Lawrence on his feet. Andie noticed he was very thin. He leaned on her grip. She pushed him on a bit. She kept watching him.

Pratt told someone else to fetch a healer. Then he arrested. Andie wished she could have arrested Musgrave. But he was a very serious criminal now. Ed was the highest ranking auror there.
"We should search him." Andie said to Ed and Neville. They were letting him in. He might blow himself up. Andromeda did not trust anything here. "Hold still." Andromeda pointed her wand at the top of Lawrence's head. She lowered it slowly. She used magic to search.

All of Neville's senses were on high alert. He couldn't help but be cautious. Everything about this still felt so wrong. One briefly exchanged look with Andromeda and he could tell his partner felt the same. She had actually faced Musgrave before, she certainly knew him more than Neville did. If she didn't trust the situation, Neville felt a little more confident in his own instincts.

He held the older wizard still as Pratt issued a formal arrest. He watched the reactions of those around him. It seemed everyone held some kind of comtempt for the wizard. Then again he wasn't suprised given the long list of his transgressions. There was also an unspoken energy in the room. This wasn't just some common criminal or dark wizard. He had been one of their own. That seemed to be his biggest crime of all.

He nodded to Andi and held Lawrence still as she cast a spell to search him. Nothing seemed to come of the search. Neville wasn't sure if he was surprised or not. They were all waiting for the other shoe to drop but perhaps this was a genuine surrender afterall. He turned to Pratt, "Should we take him to the holding cells, sir?"

“Fetch a healer…” Pratt ordered, and Lawrence blinked slowly, lowering his chin in silent thanks for the mercy. His dark, bloodshot eyes met Pratt’s green eyes as calmly as he could with what little energy held Lawrence together. He wanted to close his eyes and exhale in relief at the list of charges Pratt reeled off, but he stood still, blinking intermittently as he listened.

And then, at once he was nothing. No threat, no consideration. Pratt swiftly passed judgement and orders to the two flanking Lawrence.
“We should search him,” Andromeda Gamp suggested. Lawrence leaned his head away from her, expression of mild agreement growing on his face. He wouldn’t trust himself either in the circumstances. “Hold still.” Too tired to do anything else, Lawrence obliged. His gaze returned to Pratt and Carstairs as the aurors ran their wands up and down. They would not find anything of threat on him now.

“Should we take him to the holding cells, sir?” Longbottom asked.
“Not there,” Lawrence uttered, the first words he'd spoken since arriving. He had turned his head to Neville to regard him at close range, "too open." He meant the Wizengamot holding cells on Level 10, deep in the Ministry. He looked to Pratt and then Carstairs, still in the grip of Longbottom and Gamp, though he showed no physical resistance.

“Expect visitors," he warned the senior wizards. The two words lacked the energy of a threat, and were delivered more as a statement of fact, one auror to another. "Keep me under your nose." Lawrence glanced back to Pratt, tilting his head in acknowledgement of the irony, considering the Head Auror had stated Lawrence smelled. They might defy him now, considering his suggestion a risk, a strategy to be placed somewhere they would lose most from. But Lawrence had kept his word since his parcel to the Minister. He had cooperated and surrendered. One might even hazard a description of an anticlimax.

Lawrence wouldn't admit that he could not prevent the dementors attempting to penetrate the building, as they traversed his thoughts and would find him soon enough. He could feel them at the fringes of his mind, less since he had entered the building wrapped in layers of wards. But they had been in the building, they knew Level 10 from the decades they had served the Ministry, and would seek him out.

The arrest, contrary to the collective instinct of almost every Auror in the atrium, turned out to be something of a non-event. That in itself was possibly the greatest surprise that Solomon could have received tonight as he watched Longbottom and Gamp finish their search of the convict. The newspapers often called Musgrave that.

Convict. Criminal. Ex-Auror.

It was hard to tell which would be preferable. The department head had approached, leaving only about a two or so feet a gap between himself and Lawrence. Behind his spectacles, thoughts trickled away and lost their initial alarm.

          "Expect visitors."

An infinitesimal nod to acknowledge this... this warning. What manner of visitors? Sol had suspicions, aware now that Musgrave feared his visitors more than he did this miniature army of red robed witches and wizards. There seemed little point to remaining in the Atrium any longer now that they had ensured some level of safety. No emergency signals from the Aurors watching over their Minister, either.

"Cells on level two," Solomon amended without expression and glanced at the two aurors, indicating they get on with it immediately. He turned around to clasp a hand on Ed's shoulder, briefly. "I'll leave him to you, Head Auror. And we had better be in touch with I.D.R.E.AD."

Arresting Lawrence Musgrave should have been the coup de grâce at the end of a bitter campaign - yet somehow it felt more like the beginning of a longer trek.

Musgrave’s words wearied an already weary wizard. It had been a long day and was to become longer. Yet, finally, they had the elusive criminal they’d wanted for months. He’d come to them with no resistance. Ed would have celebrated had he not been so aware of the ramifications and the trap that they may have just fallen into. This had to be played perfectly. They had to watch every step. Mistakes were not affordable.

Expect Visitors… Pratt didn’t respond to Musgrave’s statement. Neither did he react.

Carstairs gave the order and finally Ed’s gaze left their prisoner’s. He nodded with a firm “Sir.”
 Bright green eyes flashed between Gamp and Longbottom.
“Ye heard the boss. Full strip search and he’s to see a healer before anything else.” They would do this by the book. Ed was going to take no risks with Lawrence Musgrave. The bastard deserved to rot in prison and not be freed due to departmental mistakes.”

A couple of hitwizards were suddenly in Ed’s sights and he gave a wave at them. “You two accompany. You do not leave his cell.”

Andromeda did not like it that Musgrave chose where to be locked up. Carstairs gave the order. Pratt repeated it. He ordered hit wizards too. Andie looked to Neville. She frowned.
"Get us an empty lift." She said to the first hit wizard. "You know where we are going then." She said to Musgrave. She signaled to Neville. They set off.