September 1st, Midday

Work, so it seemed, had been a good thing to put one’s energy into. Edward was finding it a struggle to deal with personal life and so he focused very solidly on making his work life better and he was spending a lot more time there, and doing as much as possible. Working himself to death was better than sulking at home dwelling on how his paranoid and very mean and heartless ex-wife was playing him for a fool. To be honest, Edward missed his relationship with the mad witch, but he wasn’t prepared to admit this. It showed too much weakness and as an auror, Pratty boy couldn’t afford to show weakness. Even to the only woman he’d ever love.

Realising just how hard he seemed to be biting down on the quill, Eddie frowned and released it from the grip of his teeth. “Motive...motive...” He muttered, as he was glancing up at the clippings he’d pinned up on the short cubicle walls. The quill was dumped on the pile of ignored and unread parchments and the tip of Edward’s wand started drumming on the desk rhythmically as he tried to add things up in his head and they simply didn’t make sense. They hadn’t done since the day the murders had happened. And he was practically just as perplexed about it now as he had been then.

The auror started to lean back further in his chair, his feet propped up on the desk, legs crossed at the ankles. As the chair tilted onto its back legs, he rocked forwards again and back once more (clearly well practiced in this activity), frowning in concentration.  

Eddie didn’t like being stuck in the office, he much preferred being out in the field doing what he did best. He was the kind of auror that tended to act on impulse and get injured and then be reprimanded and think about it later. If someone left it too long to dilly dally, put their make up on, fix their hair and finally decide to go for the suspect, they could have already murdered a few more people and left the country. That was why he wasn’t a very happy boy when confined to the usually dull office with paper work and tactical planning. Or that was his excuse anyway.

After at least several seconds of deep thought and concentration, Eddie snapped up the quill once more and dipped it in some ink. He started to scribble a rough message on the back of an unimportant report (something about a cat under the imperious curse). He proceeded to fold it up to make a paper airplane. The office needed a little lightening up and Goliath needed to be released from his cubicle, the poor man was probably getting a case of severe claustrophobia as Eddie was even thinking about it.

The first of the month. The beginning of September was the notable day that underage witches and wizards departed for Hogwarts once more, faces flush and eyes bright for the wonders that awaited them. For Tamis Raynor it was one of the twelve worst days of the year, the day that all of the deadlines for the past month were due. In other words, one of a dozen days of paperwork doom. Old case files had to be sorted and updated, case reports from the Aurors had to filed and organized by importance, and her monthly evaluations of her men for the higher-ups had be completed – all of course without sacrificing the stack loads of parchment that crossed the Head Auror’s desk on a daily basis.

And she did not suffer all on her lonesome; she brought the rest of the Auror Office down with her.

 Today was one of those avoid-Raynor-at-all-cost days. Where, if she was not in her office, then she was hunting down some poor chap about paperwork he had not turned in yet. Predictably, Raynor usually had her own files and reports completed and submitted well in advance. That was not an issue. But, traditionally Aurors were not fond of forms and parchment and procrastinated on them at all cost. Trying to corner those men and women into picking up a quill would give anyone a headache… and a guaranteed even grimmer mood than usual.

Two reasons drew her down to Edward Pratt’s cubicle on this day. One was the case report on a cat that she was still missing. The other was her performance evaluation on him, still nestled, partially filled out, on her now clean, organized and otherwise parchment free (that would change by tomorrow) desk.  That little sheet of vellum was going to force a confrontation months in the making. Neither of them was going to enjoy this.

With so much involved in the past few months – homicides, kidnapping, unusual insignias, terrorist attempts and threats – Raynor had not been paying as close of attention to details about the Corps as she usually would have been. Everyone was working overtime and if someone was available or volunteered for an assignment she had scribbled their name down with their task and sent them on their merry little way. But when she finally sat down and did the calculations she had found something rather peculiar. Edward Pratt had an absurd amount of cases and, upon a more in-depth inspection, was keeping up with all of them.  While he took his career seriously and was extremely talented at it, the level of dedication was … abnormal.

Mentally, Raynor sighed as she weaved her way toward his cubicle. At the very least she needed that report.

Peeping over the corner of his cubicle, Raynor found Pratt sitting at his desk vigorously scribbling a message – and then turning it into a paper airplane. Well, it was relieving to know he had not completely changed his MO. Leaning against the doorway, she gave the corkboard wall a hearty rap to announce her presence.

“Impressive dynamics,” she offered, referring to his origami. 

Having had over 20 years practice, Edward had become very adept at making paper aeroplanes and setting them on a course. You had to have a knack to get it just right and they were a lazy way of getting messages from one side of the office to the other. He didn’t fancy having to get up and besides, that would attract more attention. Archer needed to know they were on without the rest of the office thinking they were once again in cahoots.

The paper was now fully folded, the ridiculous, unfinished report now having been made good use. Raynor probably wouldn’t even notice it was missing. She got so stressed on the first of the month, anyway. She could very easily overlook a report involving old senile women and tabby cats with red eyes. Aurors didn’t need to be running around chasing cursed cats.

Eddie didn’t however realise that it was at this moment that she was stood behind him and he practically leapt out his seat when someone hammered on the wall behind his head.

“Bloody ‘ell” He grunted before hearing exactly who it was. He’d been right to jump. He pulled a face and span around in his chair to face his superior. She wasn’t supposed to chase him down today. Not this month anyway. He’d been a good boy, honest.

“I try me best.” Eddie finally replied, the thick northern drawl smothering his voice. “Anythin’ I can do for ye or is it a social call?” He added, the cheeky smirk starting to tug at his lips.

Agitation was her initial salutation as she surprised the man. Sneaking up on an Auror was practically unfathomable to the general public; insanity and a death wish twofold. It took either a criminal or another Auror to foolishly brave those paranoia induced, itchy reflexes. It was not very considerate of the sneakee’s ego, either. Knowing that, she ignored his expletives. Give him a moment. He recovered from the shock and began processing what had just happened in record time. That was better. He finally registered who she was and wheeled around to face her with an expression that made one corner of her mouth want to tip back into a smirk. She wisely kept her countenance neutral instead.

True to form, Edward Pratt was quick to recover – and retaliate. That all too familiar smirk already considering to rear up. She could practically feel the onset. Sometimes, she fully believed that she did not get paid enough.

“I do not have a social life,” she replied, resting an arm casually on the opening of his cubicle. “I spend all of my time thinking of ways to torment you.” Some of the men actually believed that.

Gray eyes considered the expertly, aerodynamically transformed piece of parchment for a moment longer. Too many reports crossed her desk to not recognize one when she saw it, no matter how mutilated it became. She did not have a doubt in her mind that she had found the cat investigation (the largest waste of time the department had had in months), but she did not comment on it. Yet. Her gaze lifted back to his.

“How are your cases progressing? Any new developments?”

Might as well ease into the topic. The past month had not exactly been easy on her. She wanted to avoid the actual confrontation for as long as it could be avoided, anyhow.

Having known the woman standing in front of him for longer than he’d really wanted to, Eddie was one of those with the impression that she quite literally sat in the office all night planning ways to make his and every other aurors’ life just that little bit harder and more uncomfortable. She no doubt enjoyed it, sitting in her little office with her quill, parchment and vicious little mind. Perhaps she sat there stroking her illegally imported runespoor, sharing her ideas with the three ugly heads.

Yes, very possible.

But Eddie wasn’t about to tell his boss what he believed she spend her free time doing. She’d only send her illegal pet to seek revenge on him. He didn’t much like the prospect of that one.

“I hadn’t even noticed, guv*.” Eddie finally lied, putting the plane on the desk behind him, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in the chair. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say because the tormentor may decide she needed to try harder. He could hope for the best.

“How are your cases progressing? Any new developments?”

Eddie frowned and span back around in his chair to face his desk, a very messy desk in fact. He started to rifle through an unsorted pile of sheets until he came across one and handed it over to her. “Some old chap from knockturn alley sent this in sayin’ he might be able to help us with the...” he paused. This case was still a sensitive one in the department. They’d lost a colleague and friend. “the May 2nd case. Apparently he’s heard summit’ off the grape vine.”

“Only thing is, guv,” he carried on, spinning back around to face her. “He’s a known criminal and I figure he’s just wastin’ our time. I don’t fancy givin’ ‘im a good laugh at our expense. I know it’s a lead an’ all but he never comes up with the goods. Just wastes our time.”


*Form of address to superior

“You are a horrid liar,” she responded, snatching up the offered sheet of parchment.

Quite proud of herself, Raynor had managed not to flinch (much) when he rifled through the holocaust of documents on his desk. The woman was not obsessive compulsive in any means, in fact, if it were not the help from a certain house elf, she might have lived in a similar appearing disaster one. But she disliked having an investigation hindered because of the documentation. It was easier to play the system and manipulate it than to try and rebel against it. The tip of her nose “ticked.” She was positive that there were a number of forsaken reports in there.

Scanning the parchment, gray eyes darted across the words three times before she finally grunted and handed it back, crossing her arms as well as she leaned back against the cubicle entrance. They really could not afford to ignore a potential lead.

“A lead is a lead,” she told him, shoulders lifting in a slight shrug. It could also be some sort of trap. Something she mused over for a moment. “Interview him, but take a partner, just in case. If he’s telling the truth, we benefit from it. If he’s not, arrest him for obstruction of the investigation. ” At which point they could get a warrant and search his property and possibly pin him for crimes they could not convict him of previously and get him off the streets. Lose the war but win a battle.

Frowning, the Head Auror mentally tried to visualize the list of Aurors assigned to the May Second Murders investigation. There were not too many willing to take it and others she would not allow to take it, they had been too personally involved. Much like, once Akiva Katz had been found, she had passed the case on. Radley and she were tracking Gibson and, due to the nature of his crimes, she did not fully trust many others to approach that part of the investigation professionally.  There had been a lot going on since then, had anyone else but Pratt been assigned?

“Who is working ‘2045 with you?”  She asked, using the case number rather than the title. It was little secret that she had been fairly close to Timmins before he died. Even less secret that she had offered him a promotion to Senior Auror just the day before and, unlike the previous eleven times she had offered, he had finally considered it this time. The power of irony.

She signed, half already knowing the answer. This was going to let the cat out of the bag and she knew it. Well, she really did need to finish that evaluation.

‘My ex-wife said that.’ Became Pratt’s first thought upon being named a horrid liar. Not that Raynor was about to find that one out. Private life was exactly that. Private. People knew he had a family. Kids. That was enough. It was never a factor worth celebrating when things got personal on the job. Always a calamity.

Eddie took the parchment back once the miniscule woman had finished scanning it and he tossed it back onto the now nonexistent pile. The papers had in fact dispersed sporadically over the large wooden desk. Anything to keep the boss happy. He knew she liked tidiness. It was an absolute pity most of her aurors did not appreciate it to as quite an obsessive level. He knew where the reports were. On the desk. Somewhere.

“More paperwork.” Eddie muttered at the prospect of arresting the guy. There was always a downside to a bit of action. Paperwork. And mountains of it. He hadn’t become an auror to improve his untidy scrawl. No one had mentioned he’d practically write a novel or two most days! “And I don’t need a-” partner was lost before it reached his tongue while Raynor continued. It was always best not to interrupt. It made for a quieter life.

“Who is working ‘2045 with you?”

An expletive was on the tip of his tongue but it was held back with difficulty. He hadn’t been working with anyone on this case and that was the way he’d liked it. The auror shrugged his shoulders and sat back in the chair. “You only assigned me, guv’. And who am I to go against the gaffa’? I ‘ent the suicidal type.” Not that it usually stopped him.  But this was different. This was a case important to him, one he’d got his teeth into and was keeping him occupied and he didn’t want some useless rookie coming in and making things difficult for him.

“Yes, you do,” she responded to his protests about taking a partner with him. One Auror had already been sacrificed to a preventable death. Edward Pratt was not about to become a second one because she let him swagger off to investigate a dodgy source on his own. However much she would never admit it to the arrogant, cheeky, slightly younger man, she cared about him too much to let that happen. She would miss the daily annoyance. Nor did she appreciate the idea of Aurors possibly being singled out as targets. “Take Potter or Radley if you do not want to worry about babysitting.”

The slip of parchment was reclaimed and then swallowed whole by the unorganized siege upon the top of Pratt’s desk. Swallowing hard, it took a very large measure of control to refrain from commenting. There were, after all, larger concerns than his cluttered cubicle. Sometimes Raynor wondered if it was some form of not-so-subtle revenge.

“Excellent,” she chirped back pleasantly. “Then you will have no complaints if I put a couple more on it with you.” How had she slipped like that? She had been so involved with tracking down and apprehending Kyle Gibson that was how. No one in the Auror Office liked the fact that a seventeen year old boy had decapitated one of the most senior personnel in the office. Timmins had children that were roughly the same age as Gibson. The lack of motive was astounding. And now she was drowning in yet another case. The imagery of the brand burned into Akiva Katz’ flesh kept floating to the forefront of her mind with perpetual annoyance.

 There were other issues to worry about right now than her emotional problems. Tilting her head against the cubicle wall, she watched Edward Pratt lean back nonchalant in his chair. She knew he was having issues with his wife, they all knew it, there was very little one could hide from an office of investigators. Personal life was personal life and they all kindly played oblivious.

It was amazing how much Aurors were alike – burying themselves in work to avoid troubles in their life outside of the job. Raynor had not become a workaholic without provocation. Likewise, she doubted Pratt’s sudden enthusiasm was out of zeal to be promoted to a Senior Auror position that much faster.

Pushing herself away from the wall, arms still crossed, Tamis sighed and shook her head. “I need you on that case, Pratt. I will not take you off of it. But you need to slow down; you have more cases than anyone else in the office right now.” She smirked gently, if that was possible. “The boys are going to start thinking that you are an overachiever.”

Before Eddie could stop himself, he was shooting a fierce glare in the direction of his boss. He did not need a partner to go and speak to a practically harmless wizard. The most the idiot would do to him was lie. The bloke was hardly the type to whip out his wand on an auror or get someone else to do it. No, he was cleverer than that with the threat of Azkaban looming. All the office needed was proof of his violence and bam, cell doors slamming shut in front of his grubby, bearded face. And it was solely for the department’s recent loss that Eddie didn’t make any of his usual comments.

Except one,
“I thought Radley were yours.” Pratt grumbled his inappropriate comment as he tried to soften his expression.  “Not that I’m complainin’ or nowt.” Eddie didn’t need a partner on this one, even if it was his close friend or Potter. No, not necessary thank you. He shouldn’t have mentioned anything to Raynor and dealt with it after. Silly really but Eddie didn’t much appreciate daft rules.

The glare on the younger auror’s face deepened as his green eyes stared up at the head auror. “Will I not?” He folded his arms over his chest as if in a gesture of defiance. He’d rarely done well with authority figures bossing him around. Ed came in to do his job, see justice taking place and earn his living. Not to hear nagging women tell him what he should and shouldn’t do. Or maybe it was just today he was in a bad mood...

Pratt was well aware of the difficulties facing the auror office presently and there was another reason he’d taken on the amount he had. He had the time to do the work so he could take the load off others. See, he was thinking of and caring for Raynor. What a generous guy.

“I need you on that case, Pratt. I will not take you off of it. But you need to slow down; you have more cases than anyone else in the office right now.”

And there came the line he’d been expected. ‘Oh Pratt, you’ve got too many cases on. Are you sure you can handle them in your evidently delicate condition?’ He scowled across at Raynor, arms still folded. “Are you saying I can’t handle the work load?”

Wait for it. It was coming. And there it was. Pratt shot her such a baleful glance that she practically expected Fiendfyre to spark from his eyes. Resigned, Raynor had no choice but the sacrifice herself to the battle. She preferred backbones in the Aurors, often looked for it from new recruits as it often suggested confidence and confidence could mean the difference between life and death. Sometimes, however, it tended to backfire on her.

Not wavering, she returned glance for glance, though a frown did cross her lips at the mention of Radley. Her composure slip and she frowned at him in bewilderment. Well… yes, Archer was her partner. They all had technical buddy-system assignments, but he knew as well as she did that technicality did not hold a lot of weight in the Office. Partners occasionally flip-flopped and if Radley was to be stuck constantly trailing the Head Auror around, the large man would die of boredom. It usually meant he got to head a lot of the exciting cases but Tamis also spent a lot of time in the office making sure everyone else was out in the field. There had to be another meaning there.

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

The younger man’s expression darkened and he crossed his arms, giving the impression of a child in his early teens as opposed to a man just over thirty. Merlin it would have been easier to let this particular dragon sleep. Yet, here she was tickling it. It was hard to forget the little incident with Pratt and Marren over the summer. She had kept her eye on the Auror since then and was not particularly fond of what she was seeing. It was, after all, part of her job description to make sure the Aurors were where they should be.

She was loathing that little detail, currently.

A snort escaped her at his accusation. “Hardly,” she replied. Then she sighed and leaned back against the entrance again, trying not to let her own temper spark. She had never been good with the touchy-feely side of life. “You are one of my best Aurors, Pratt,” a true compliment, considering the woman giving it. She did not hand those out freely. “And especially now I need you at top performance.”

She sounded more like she was proving his point that negating it. “We are overloaded. The office is understaffed and one man cannot shoulder the bulk of that burden – however chivalrous.” And now she sounded like a hypocrite. She scowled at herself. Not going how she planned this to, at all.

“Nowt.” Pratt replied bluntly. It was hardly necessary for him to tell Raynor what he meant by his bold comment. He’d had the privilege of watching her composure slip as a little revenge for irritating him. That would suffice. He didn’t need to say anything more on the matter right then. Without meaning to shock anyone, it had to be said that sometimes, Edward Pratt could be quite immature.

This was most definitely shown with his current position. His arms remained folded over his chest, green eyes boring fiercely into his boss’. It wasn’t much appreciated when the man’s abilities were being questioned. Unsurprisingly, Eddie’s head was too big to deal well with that. He tended to be an arrogant, confident git at times.

This arrogance and confidence had been tested the morning he’d woken up after she’d found him and Jason resembling drunken teenagers on a quidditch pitch. Eddie did not much fancy going back there and he was thankful it hadn’t become public knowledge. Getting that drunk in public wasn’t something Edward had a tendency to do.

The miniature woman began leaning against the cubicle entrance again and Eddie’s expression softened ever so slightly upon being told that he was one of the best. Well he should hope so, he worked hard. But that didn’t mean he expected the boss to say that. She was hardly the woman to ever compliment. The prospect of this brought a frown to Eddie’s brow line.

“Let me get this right, gov.” Eddie began, sitting up straight and uncrossing his arms now as he leaned forward, elbows balancing precariously on his knees. “You want me at ‘top performance’ yet ye don’t want me workin’ any harder?” Did Raynor realise how stupidly contradicting she was being? “That’s crap.”