Camden Lock, 0330 hours (Saturday Night/Sunday Morning)
M for mature language


Tristan Vaillancourt, fiddling with the bandana around his neck, leaned against the wall underneath the bridge at Camden Lock. It was late - even by Saturday night standards. The clubbing crowd in this part of town were beginning to retreat and the establishments drawing close their doors.

Muggle women tottering drunkenly on high heels as sweet, fresh sweat trickled down their lush necks to cleavages that drew the wrong eyes (for the wrong reasons). Their cheap perfumes clouded the ripe scent. Young men ambled home, with or without their trophy fucks, their shirts unbuttoned and adorned by licks of glow-in-the-dark paint: a muggle magic in the dark nightclubs but a cheap neon under the gaunt street lamps.

The vampire slipped his hands into his pockets, eyeing these walking blood packets through the pink-tinted lenses of his sunglasses. In a finer neighbourhood of London he might have looked rather odd. Here, he was simply another of many breathing curiosities.

          "Hey." A young man, parchment brown skin and straining shirt buttons, breathed tequila on him.

What now? Tristan looked away from the Hight Street to give the muggle his full attention. Wicked, full mouth. Long eyelashes. Pronounce sternomastoid muscle in the neck. Mm. The two of them were silhouettes under the bridge and the approacher had no sense of personal space.

"Can I help you?" Tristan crossed an arm across his chest, clasped his umbrella handle in the other.
            "You waitin' on someone mate?" the muggle was taller and broader than him. His blood...

His blood was rich with adrenaline. "I am. In fact," a pause as Tristan glanced back down the empty road, "I think that's them right now."

Sure enough, two familiar figures were proceeding in their direction from the general shopping streets. Brother and sister Gamp. It had been nearly two weeks since the murders of the two muggles. He had gone to visit several covens to no avail, except to be advised that he speak to Terrence Hooker.

          "Could've shown you a good time." The boy was still talking, and this time Tristan stopped leaning against the wall to carefully push his sunglasses up into his black locks.

"I don't have a telephone," he anticipated the query before smiling coquettishly at the other man. "But I'll be here next week." His gaze dropped down the muscular neck, straining chest, generous thighs in denim. And then Tristan slipped away from the wall - he began to head towards Cepheus and Andromeda.

The new moon was tomorrow and the day after. He was ravenous. The vampire used his umbrella to give a cheerful wave at his employer and the Auror. "Good evening!" he called out.

"Maybe I should have gone on the course too." Andromeda said to her brother. "I do not want to end up on the menu." Andromeda was not wearing her auror robes. She thought it would look too threatening. She would try not to be threatened by a room full of pointy teeth too. They had no luck finding out who had drunk the muggles. The muggle camera had only shown Carly Smith and Jack Mayes going into Nox Alley. It looked like someone had called out in the alley. If it was a vampire they would not show up. They had been tempted in. Andromeda thought that it would be easy to do that to lots of people tonight. Carly and Jack had not got to see their friends. They were not drunk. "Do you think vampires prefer to drink drunk people or sober people?" Andromeda asked Cepheus. "Or do they take what they get?" She zipped up her leather jacket right up to her chin. "There is Vaillancourt. Hello." Andromeda watched the Muggle walk away. "Not bad." She said. "Nice arse."

“You won’t.” Cepheus assured his sister as they walked along the pavement elbow to elbow. He admired her concern not to put her foot in it though. His sister was beautifully blunt where others would tiptoe around, but she had a way of getting straight to the point in an emergency.

Cepheus had tucked his pale hands into the pockets of his blue duffle coat, which he had opted for a a slightly less threatening alternative to something more formal. It was one of his favourite coats. Beneath, he was dressed more officially if the need came, a pale blue shirt, no tie, mid blue trousers without matching jacket. He’d opted for a deep burgundy silk scarf after some consideration. He was glad his sister had come in civvies, not that he’d imagine she’d come in her uniform given their Muggle meeting point.

London didn’t seem to sleep. Even at this time, there were still people out and about to bother them. Most of them worse for wear. Cepheus hadn’t felt the need to comment, his mind busy on how the next hour might play out, but his sister was ever vigilant.
“Do you think vampires prefer to drink drunk people, or sober people?” She asked,
“Uhm…"
“Or do they take what they get?”
“I…” He saw his sister zip her jacket right up to her chin for much the same reason he’d chosen to wear the silk scarf between his shirt and the collar of his coat. It wouldn’t do anything against fangs, but it gave a sense of security and reassurance. “I think it depends on the vampire.” Cepheus managed to answer, just as they spotted Tristan up ahead.

“Not bad… Nice arse.”
“I don’t normally like to comment but -.” Cepheus suddenly realised his sister was talking about a stranger nearby, not about Vaillancourt and dipped his head to run his fingers through his black hair in embarrassment. “Evening Tristan. Everything along to plan, or have there been any changes since we discussed them?” Friday hadn’t been the best of days. Alec Carter had taken over the department from Hollow, and as it was April Fool’s day, someone had let go a load of pixies in the offices. Tristan was lucky he worked nights and missed the literal shit.

“Any last minute advice?” He asked Tristan, unable to hide the mild trepidation of entering a coven given the recent climate of violence.

“Not bad… Nice arse.”
                “I don’t normally like to comment but -.”

A dark eyebrow went up, followed very quickly by the corners of Tristan's red mouth. Oh he liked brother and sister Gamp. It didn't hurt that they were the most courteous Ministry employees he knew - within reason. Their tactful swaddling of the general neck area was a bit obvious as the temperature barely merited it.

"Andromeda. Cepheus. Good evening. It is a very tempting arse indeed," the vampire responded smoothly without specifying whose ass he meant. He reached up and flicked his rosy sunglasses back down over his eyes; the siblings were reflected in them. "No changes to the best of my knowledge."

He turned around on the balls of his feet and beckoned at them to follow him down the wide road while they spoke, allowing the witch on one side and wizard on his other. Muggles wandered about but did not linger or spare much attention to passersby in their drunken stupor.

Tristan considered Ceph's plea for last minute advice, the magical trio falling under the shadows of stop signs or traffic lights.

"It is the new moon tomorrow," he recollected in a curiously level tone, looking straight ahead.  "Bad timing on our part but Terrence is un homme occupé and I would prefer we speak to him before he is advised to keep silence. Don't respond to sudden movements with any of your own. They will try to bait yo-- ah, just down here."

A pause at a lifeless junction, where a narrow road branched off towards a residential area of old redbrick terrace houses. Nobody truly seemed to live here, however, as there was little sign of activity. Tristan hesitated before turning in. He had stopped walking but his voice drew tighter, more tense.

He could hear the pub in the distance, where the road curved to its end out of their sight. And he could smell it, too.

The blood. "You will see things in this place that are not agréable to your laws. You may show surprise but you cannot be... righteous." Tristan was disagreeably famished; he should have gone to the hospital for blood before this but he had not anticipated the temptation. Stupid of him.

"You cannot prosecute these vampires for what you see here," he amended in more officious language and glanced down the road with a thoughtful slant to his lips. "What is illicite can also be consensual. Do you agree to these conditions?"

“Don’t respond to sudden movements with any of your own. They will try to bait…” Cepheus looked past Tristan to Andie, who of the two wand carriers would be the quickest to draw. Cepheus was generally a patient soul, but he didn’t wander into vampire dens with any regularity. Certainly not to ask potentially difficult questions. Was it his heightened anticipation, or his imagination, or did Tristan sound tense? He gave his colleague a glance up and down, evaluating the lack of eye contact. Inside his pocket, Cepheus repeatedly turned over his Ministry identification with his fingertips. It wasn’t the time or the place to juggle.

“I do,” Cepheus agreed, “but I won’t stop Andromeda pursuing other lines of inquiry based on what we witness.” He glanced between them both, “Hooker’s our source, bystanders are not.” He turned a little more to Tristan, as best he could balance on the fence, “though we hope it doesn’t come to that.” He inhaled slowly and deeply, an attempt to flatten the butterflies taking off in his stomach.

“Now,” the Division Head spoke as calmly as he could, “Anyone fancy a drink?”

The Camden Town Hookers were based in a pub. Any muggles chancing past the end of the street saw nothing, their eyes slid from the end of the adjacent building to the corner of the pavement as if nothing were also sandwiched in. London was good at crushing what came before, building on top. They had tried with the Leaky Cauldron in its history. From what records were held on this particular pub, Cepheus knew it was no Leaky Cauldron. When one ordered a pint at the Leaky Cauldron, it was delivered from behind the bar, warm if you were unfortunate, not from in front of it at body temperature.

Cepheus hadn’t been sure whether a lack of attendance would be more unsettling than a room full, but either way the figure looming in the shadow of the entrance was taking particular interest in their approach.
“Tristan,” despite the greeting verging on polite and cordial to the oldest of the trio, the eyes of the unacquainted party darted from one Gamp sibling to the other, lips apart. Cepheus had seen that look on children’s faces as they peered into the Honeydukes window, only he and Andromeda were not bars of Honeyduke’s finest - but near enough for him maybe.

“You brought drinks, mhm,” the figure in the doorway stepped forward for a better look, eyes creeping up Cepheus, who resisted the temptation to tighten his scarf, “I could drink him right up…” The former Ravenclaw pictured his cat as best he could in his mind’s eye, inducing what he hoped to be a more genuine smile for their new … friend.

Andromeda stared back. She was being examined. She examined back. She was committing the vampire's face to her memory. This one was not as pretty as Tristan.
"Have to drink me first." Andromeda said. She stared back. She did not blink. She would not be afraid.
"Is that an offer?" the vampire said. Andie remembered what Tristan said. He said bait.
"Buy me a drink first." Andie said. She smiled. It was a pretend smile. She walked to the door.

He had said nothing, watching the other vampire examine their human guests the way you would speculate over the taste of somebody else's meal in a restaurant. Tristan knew that this little display of whetted appetite was a test of courage as much as anything else. A way of ascertaining how badly the two Gamps wanted to be here and whether or not they would become aggressive at the first sign of teasing.

They were nothing but polite so far. Given the circumstances.

Andromeda approached the entrance and Tristan smiled to himself at her daring. Their greeter stepped aside at the last minute, allowing brother and sister to enter first.

"William." Tristan blinked, abandoning footfalls for levitation so that he made no sound as he passed the other. "You had better buy la petite dame her drink." Dark eyes met before they leaned into one another, a peck on respective cheeks that held no warmth or affection. The two followed the humans into the pub.

Inside, there was nothing initially odd about the establishment. About four or five groups of people lounged about against the bar counter and at various cushioned seats. Chatter slowed down only marginally when they entered - a few glances in their direction, nothing that lingered longer than necessary.

A great mirror behind the bar made it obvious that only three other humans were in the room; they sat ensconced by men and women whose reflections made no appearance. If one looked carefully enough, white pinpricks might be discerned on wrists or necks (or less polite places).

The vampire William approached the bar, where a pale skinned woman was pouring out shots of shimmering amber liquid. He glanced over his shoulder at them and then back to the woman.

          "Whatever the Auror wants," the silky voice purred. "And the frenchman is here to see Hook."

He turned around and gestured at the barstools, indicating they take a seat. "I'll be right back. Make yourselves comfortable, please." William disappeared through a heavy door by the bar.

Tristan took a seat but faced his back to the counter so that he wouldn't have to face the mirror.

"Don't drink their rum," he smiled at Andie and Ceph. "But everything else should be... untainted."

Andromeda boldly walked in. She was not going to show she had fear. The vampire was going to buy her a drink. This was not going as bad as she worried. She looked around. She counted the number of people in the room. The number in the mirror.
"Blishen's." Andromeda ordered the pale woman. It was firewhisky. Not strong enough to hinder her too much. She sat side to the bar. She counted the people again. "What's that?" She asked the woman. She meant the shots.

Andie was quick to come to Ceph’s defence at the door. Cepheus admired his little sister’s balls. She and Orion were always ready to jump both feet into trouble, normally hauling their other sibling in tow. There was a stand off and Cepheus tried to hold his tongue and his nerve as his sister stood her ground, even throwing a hint of a flirt in with another vampire.

It worked, and they stepped inside, Tristan acknowledging his kind with a name as they did. Cepheus glanced back to observe the exchange, but only for a moment as he joined Andromeda in glancing around the room. This was not Ceph’s ordinary territory. He’d been some odd places in his time, but none of them risky enough to have him become near immortal for an over-enthusiastic love-bite.

Even though their new ‘friend’ was happy to buy Andromeda a drink, Cepheus decided he would not let a drop touch his lips. He could feel a cold dread prickling the back of his neck and across his shoulder blades. He took a poised seat, on the edge of one of the stools, one heel hooked up. His shoulders were slightly hunched, a little uncomfortable and feeling altogether far too interesting for the other patrons.

Andie’s question remained unanswered as the Blishen’s appeared on the bar for her first.
“Not for us, maybe.” Cepheus ventured under his breath to his sister, his fingers knitted as he considered whether this visit would be productive or just antagonise. Certainly, without Tristan, they wouldn’t have been here on the same terms.

The door reopened, and the gesture was easily understood by the trio. Cepheus swallowed visibly, paused for Andromeda and then gave one last glance across the seating area before they went through.

Beyond the door in the wall, the light level was lower, lit by lamps at regular intervals, but the furnishings and colours seemed to swallow whatever the lamps gave out, leaving irregular shadows in corners and under edges which gave the imagination just enough fodder to attempt to fill in the gaps, much like a childhood bedroom. Only Ceph’s once had contained a boggart.

Together they ascended, passed by sallow-skinned figures who descended from rooms above, flashes of teeth enough to confirm they would not know their reflections either. One leaned over a little in Andromeda’s wake before Cepheus and he could have sworn he inhaled with the same interest one might inspect a wine. He chose to take it as a compliment on this occasion. If it were anything else he’d not last long to complain.

They climbed four flights, passing one floor and climbing to the next, alighting at another door with their guide. Ceph’s heart thrummed within his ribs and he unbuttoned his coat, feeling warmer for the climb and also keen not to appear like a small child wrapped in a warm navy duffle coat coat owing to his inferior height. He slipped the scarf into one of the deep pockets and smoothed the open collar of his blue shirt, fingertips toying with buttoning it up. His other hand checked his wand, a movement clear enough to anyone around him as a wizard’s usual twitch, but no attempt to draw it.

The panelled door to Hooker’s office was drawn open on well-oiled hinges.

He liked how Gamp brother and sister balanced out their respective measures of caution and boldness. Tristan smiled to himself, looking away to hide it, as Cepheus suggested that the shots being poured might not be especially appetising for their more conventional proclivities. In this case the wizard was right: beings were his speciality, and there was no faulting such wariness.

William returned before any inadvisable misadventures could happen - and they followed the other vampire through to the back, where an altogether different brand of misadventure might occur.

These rooms were not unfamiliar to Tristan. No. He had been here before, had met Terrence in the past... and so it did not much affect him to be climbing the customary stairwells, to be nodding to or silently greeting the odd pale face that passed them. Hungry smiles on red mouths and playful questions in their eyes, at the presence of fetching foods humans.

At the uppermost landing, Tristan stopped himself from looking directly at the fussy mannerisms of his division head. William didn't afford the same courtesy and made a derisive noise instead, as he drew open the office door.


             "Tristain Vaillancourt."

The voice, deep and resonant, greeted them from a raised platform at the back of the long room. Here was where Terrence sat on a velvet red armchair in what could only be described as a histrionic lounging position - one long trousered leg lolling over the side, the other resting straight. His arms were loosely crossed and his brilliant white teeth drawn into a great big grin.

There were not many candles in the room but it was lit well enough to pick apart his noble features and watchful eyes. "What a sight you are, mate. You brought dinner?" he drawled in his Camden accent.

Tristan stepped into the room in long, levitating strides and stopped just short of a few feet before the armchair. He leaned forward into a bow before glancing behind the beckon the two humans in. William was already shutting the door behind them.

"Terry..." he looked back to the proprietor with a polite smile that fooled nobody, "I come on business, to make inquiries. Therefore mon amie, I brought business. This is monsieur Cepheus Gamp, mademoiselle Andromeda Gamp."

Terrence finally shifted his gaze to pay the two Gamps some attention, though he seemed somewhat bored by them now. As if they had lost value by not being on the menu. But then the vampire did that charming gesture of his, extending his right hand and motioning with an index finger at them. A hooking motion.

            "Then they can speak for themselves, eh?" he tilted his head to the side. "What business brings the Ministry to my doorstep?"

Falling silent, Tristan gave Cepheus a reassuring look, to go ahead and speak.

Ceph’s first impressions of Hooker were that he might have been well cast as a pantomime king. The raised stage, red armchair, relaxed lounging all added up to a first impression that showed Hooker was very much the one in control here. He was lazing in his rooms and they were told to wait, marched up, inspected and scoffed at. Cepheus found his conscience firmly repeating that wizards were the ones in control here, even if Cepheus knew in reality it often wasn’t true in practice, especially when on their home turf.

“… you brought dinner?” Cepheus hoped Andie wasn’t stiffening on the defensive behind him at this suggestion.

Tristan bowed, which only added to Hooker’s pantomime king act.

“… This is monsieur Cepheus Gamp, mademoiselle Andromeda Gamp.”

The king was displeased at business over pleasure, or rather, feast. But he relented, though Cepheus anticipated he would not lend an ear for long.

“What business brings the Ministry to my doorstep?”

“The business in Whitechapel,” Cepheus began, raising his voice and stepping forward. “Two muggles found by their police in an alley on a busy night out. They were out for a drink but became them.” Cepheus gestured with his hands as he spoke, it only more animated for his nerves. “Has led to a sudden rise in hate crimes in our society towards vampires,” the Division Head explained.

“I head the Being Division, my responsibility is to protect the rights of, and assist the policing of laws agreed between our populations.” He paused, aware of movement around him that was not altogether happy about this fact. What he had seen downstairs was against laws, and Tristan had brought him in.

“My kind, pursuing yours is strictly illegal,” the wizard spoke firmly, finding his stride, his right hand now hovering flat to emphasise the point, “and we are keen to extinguish any excuse for them to use in antagonising your community. Especially when legal supplies are scarce.” Cepheus asserted, “though sourcing it through non-consenting muggles is also against the law. It is very out of character.”

Andromeda was trying not to think they were on the menu. But Hooker suggested they were. It was easy to see why Pratt and Nadine were hostile. Her eyes looked around the room. She counted the enemy. She wished they would not become her true enemy today. Her brother was not a threatening looking person. But questions were not always welcomed.

"You get a hard enough rap without one of you going rogue." Andromeda said. "In desperation or greed." She frowned. "Somebody new on your patch?"

Tristan walked to the side of the room as the two Gamps spoke, relaxing his posture and quietly circling Hooker's armchair. It was all very theatrical and very neat. He suspected that one of Terry's eyes spotted him waiting under the bridge in Camden Town and sent news ahead so that they would be received in this fashion. His previous visits to the establishment had enjoyed some traditional procedure but lacked this annoying grandeur.

Terrence was shifting positions in the armchair. Impatient child trying to listen to Cepheus' tone, which was that clever mixture of witty and calming.

The other vampires in the room were slowly stepping away from each other: dispersing their numbers at the edges to leave room between bodies. Tristan continued to walk by them, coming full circle to the front just as Andromeda made her more casual supplication. But Terry, who now sat more practically with both feet on the floor and fingers interlocked, was still observing Cepheus.

            "Non-consenting muggles. Yes. Out of character, you say...." he licked his dark lips, voice sharp. "You bring fine, fine people to my rooms Tristan. Fine words."

At mention of his name, Tristan levelled his gaze at the other vampire. "Nobody's pointing fingers, Terry darling. Unless you care to."

Every non-human in the room appeared to be waiting for a cue from their master. If there was one, it never came, and Terrence instead turned his attention back to brother and sister. He hooked his finger again to motion them even closer.

            "Yea. We got somebody new, not my people. Anybody ask, you 'eard it from another coven." Terry's dark gaze implied that he'd come looking for their blood, out of character or not, if they failed to comply. "Fella by the name of Matty Amherst ring your bells? Newly fanged. Supposed to be a corpse."

"Aren't we all?" Tristan remarked, drawing himself back to Cepheus and Andromeda, hoping that the name did mean something to either of them.

Cepheus dipped his head in recognition and acceptance of the terms of the disclosure.

“Amherst, yes.” Cepheus replied, exchanging a look with his sister. “He once worked for the Ministry, went missing and was not recovered.” Newly fanged couldn’t mean more than a year or so - Ceph was pretty sure it was only months, if it was a year since the Level Five delegation had gone missing, or as it had been suspected, ambushed.

“If we were to make contact, where might we find him?” Cepheus asked, optimistic. He had not heard of Amherst declaring himself at the Ministry, but it might have been kept quieter due to the circumstances. Andie would undoubtedly be able to find out swiftly. She had powers.

Andie agreed. There were rumours about Amherst. This matched.

"Diagon."[1] Terry said. "Think ee's 'opin' to catch a bite ter eat." He had big teeth when he smiled. It was lucky he was using them to talk.

"Thank you. Your cooperation is appreciated." Andie said. She was genuine. "We will not disclose sources. You are not the only one we will speak with." She had not expected anything. She was still on guard. This was easy. What if they were still dinner. Amherst may not be their vampire. But if Matty was in London they needed to know.

"We will not tolerate our kind attacking. But if another drink is reported it is harder to defend. Any information is worthy. Tristan can communicate." She looked at the vampire. "And any trouble tell me. If we contact Amherst we will repay the debt."

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