Thursday
11: 55 AM



It was a cheerful summer day reflecting from the singular window in the Head Aurors Office. The sun was shining invitingly down on the city-scene and the pair of gated trees in the center of the sidewalk was lush and green and rustling with a gentle and no doubt glorious breeze. The roaring fireplace at Tamis Raynor’s still coat-clad back in the room’s interior could not defy the reality that above ground December was upon then and any leaves still clinging to the trees were brown and forsaken. One might think that Magical Maintenance was attempting for another raise, but she knew better.  The Aurors adherence for the winter months was not a secret. And the rest of Level Two was currently experiencing a wind storm.

Flipping through another file, she had to at least give them credit for glorifying the very stereotypical British sense of humor.

The large oak desk, worn with age and nicked with use from having served many men and woman (mostly men) before her, was currently consumed by a meticulously organized gathering of case files. Akiva Katz’s Kidnapping. The Remembering Day Murders. The Assassination of Gawain Robards. And, the much larger and new folder labeled ‘sensitive’ that contained the details of the still unnamed Terrorist Group that they were contending with. On a separate sheet of parchment she had formed a flow chart with significant scratch outs and question marks written out in her small but neat hand. At the top of the piece of parchment Cináed Tawse’s name was written.

Glancing up at the grandfather clock nestled in an opposing corner of the office she watched the minute hand tick up another notch. Still five minutes until noon. Her gaze dropped back down to the document in her hand. It was the autopsy and toxicology reports for muggles Lee Arnold and David Pattison, two victims found dead at Kings Cross Station after an encounter with the fugitive Kyle Gibson. The former she had (with considerable IOUs) retrieved from the English Channel and the latter she had discovered personally in the restroom, dead. She had, eye-witnesses Gibson’s escape with a polyjuice potion induced likeness of the poor man. Arnold had been ruled by the muggles as a suicide drowning. St. Mungo’s autopsy had revealed residue traces of the Imperius Curse. Powerful spells, those Unforgivables.

Putting the report down, she flipped through one of the case files until Aberdeen Spencer’s face blinked horrified back up at her. Also had been under the influence of the same Unforgivable Curse. The woman’s last memory had been visiting her child’s muggle pediatrician, one Kenneth Frobisher – he had been found mangled in a closet, brutally murdered. It had apparently been all over the muggle news. Their estimated time of death had been before Spencer’s estimated appointment time. Polyjuice potion again?

It was too convenient to be a coincidence. She knew for damn certain that Tawse was involved in the murders of Arnold and Pattison. Frobisher fit the MO. Now all she needed was proof.

And she was working on getting it.

She had called Archer Radley, Charlene Malone, and …. Christian Colburn, their new trainee, to meet with her to discuss just how to make that happen. And they should be arriving – there was an honorary rap on her open doorway – just about now.

Waving the individual in with her free hand, she pinched the bridge of her nose with her other hand as she leaned back from her ministrations with the paperwork.

Receiving a summons to the Head Auror’s office for noon would have been less suspicious for Archer if it had been less formal.  He actually received paper confirmation of the meeting and he frowned, that meant it really was a business thing instead of just lunch.  It was unfortunate, as he was anticipating just having a quiet, comfortable day at the office where he would sit over his information, glare at it, will it to put itself together, which would inevitably end in disappointment, and then he would be back to pinning things on his cubicle wall and trying to put all of it together manually. 

It was nice to wish and he would have liked a vial of felix felicis when dealing with these things.  Against policy though, and until noon, he was resigned to examining and re-examining all the facts he had related to this suspected group that could neither be pinned nor explained.  He had the recollection of a small child of seeing a symbol somewhere; she had little more than that for a placement, but the girl had been staying at the Black Chimera – where his central suspicions were located.

There was no solid proof though.  Nothing to really tie them down to this, and even if the hub was there; he had no way of knowing which scumbag was in charge of the thing.  He could have put it on Tawse if he really went with his gut, but he’d have a good defense lawyer so fast it wouldn’t matter.  Too bad it wasn’t like the days before more solid criminal processing; they could have just locked him up under some vague charge and lost the paperwork for a couple of decades.  It’d probably clean up that corner of the alley for a bit until another filthy rat came and took his place. 

He needed more though, and he needed connections.  There was a lot of polyjuice flowing around – which was probably indicator someone needed to make it a controlled substance, but that wasn’t the job of enforcement.  It was something the high-ups needed to look at.  Maybe they’d pay attention soon enough – since Robards was connected to the string of illegal uses. 

He couldn’t worry about being proactive with legislation though, and Archer had already gone through four cups of coffee as he piled through the evidence and he put out the diagrams, the things he had versus the things he needed, and all of it loaded up to the fact he was going to have to get that clearance for the coffee shop.  He was waiting on it for a week or so.  Maybe he’d ask about it after the official meeting was over.

Pouring over his work, he was knocked out of the loop by the alarm clock that he set for 11:57.  Blinking, he rubbed his face for a minute and stood up from the small chair, exceptionally uncomfortable, and gathered up his work.  It was sensitive material, he knew that, and gave himself the three minutes to put everything away and into the filing cabinet that would only unlock for him (and Ray, if something ever happened to him).  When he was satisfied the material was put away, Archer pushed his chair in and strode toward Ray’s office, passing others on the way, notably the people who were not getting up to go see her.

Frowning softly, he was confident this wasn’t some disciplinary thing, as Pratt wasn’t coming – so what business could this be on?  Knocking lightly on the door frame, Archer announced his entrance and then walked into the office and stood in front of the desk and the woman who was pouring over her own papers.  “What’s this about, Ray?”

It had been ten-odd days since The Incident, as Charlene had taken to thinking of it in her own mind.  The fact that she had given a name to the event irked her, if only because a designation conferred a sense of legitimacy onto her unfortunate partner's actions. 

Pranks were hardly a rare event in the Auror's Office - in such a hard pressure work environment, the rank and file needed some way of blowing off steam harmlessly - and normally, Charlene could laugh them off with her co-workers.  But she was holding bitterly onto this one, and not only because Edward Pratt had cost her a full afternoon of reorganizing and refiling her case files once she had reclaimed them from Tamis Raynor's office.  Far worse in Charlene's mind was how The Incident had affected her relationship with Bailey.  The ginger-haired Auror apparently saw their shared victimhood as the start of an impromptu friendship, and had taken to talking Charlene's ear off about completely non-work-related nonsense every chance he got.

The one-sided friendship had skyrocketed Bailey to Number Two on her Least Likely To Be Missed list, just above Radley (whom she had still not forgiven for The Incident) and just below her own erstwhile partner.  Charlene had been half tempted to march into Tamis Raynor's office and request reassignment, but she was determined not to give Pratt what he obviously wanted.  If he hated working with her so much, then she was damned well going to make certain that he had to continue working with her.

Between the stress of the forced civility she was having to insert into every conversation with Pratt and the extensive paperwork that followed up Bloxham's trial, it had been a trying week.  Charlene had not been sure exactly what to expect when she received a summons into the Head Auror's office, so she had waited a beat when the time came to see who else arose to go to the meeting. 

Bailey stayed where he was - thank Merlin - but to Charlene's surprise, her partner did too.  Frowning, she exchanged a look with Chris Colburn and also rose to her feet, following Archer Radley to their supervisor's door.

There were only so many things that the Head Auror could want to see both her and Radley about.  They weren't working on any cases together; she certainly hadn't pulled any recent pranks with him; and if they were being called in as character witnesses because Level Two was on the verge of expelling her partner, well, she'd have to ask to see Raynor in private before she gave her opinion.  Charlene paused at the door, waiting as Radley strode over in front of the desk.

"Something official, I'd think," she interjected dryly, her eyebrows rising as she stepped inside.  "Will we need something for notes?"

Twice the paper airplane had circled the cheesy, cheap Colburn Collectables Executive Collection Desktop Ministry Interdepartmental Note Landing Strip before gliding into a soft landing and taxiing (yes, taxiing) off the edge of the strip to unfold on the desk beneath Chris' nose.  Christian could spot the cheap, far-too-bright paint of a Colburn Collectable from across the street. He'd hated the cheap nicknacks from his father's owl-order catalogue but Hugh Colburn had felt the need to gift his son with the full Deluxe Edition of the Executive Collection upon hearing of Chris' acceptance to the Auror Corps.  It was still another three weeks before the set was announced in the Christmas catalogue.  A real privilege. 

But, accepting the gift and proudly displaying it on the man's desk was all part of the image.  He'd even managed a smug, flirty gloat when Level Two's receptionist passed by and inquired.  The memo had set off warning bells in the back of Chris' head.  Despite the small voice in his mind that was convinced Raynor had sniffed him out, Chris got to his feet and weaved through the cubicle's towards the Head Auror's at five minutes before noon.

The presence of the ever obnoxious Bailey and a remarkably tolerant Malone helped stem some of those fears.  If this was an interrogation, Chris would either have been called alone or those two would be notified of the circumstances.  Bailey wouldn't have been practicing for Hamlet's soliloquy if that were the case.  Christian cast Malone a sideways glance that, clearly, read I don't know how you do it before looking towards Radley as he let himself into Raynor's office.  Another good sign. 

Being the low man on the totem pole, Chris trailed behind the other two, quietly closing the door behind him.  As the trainee amongst a trio of very well seasoned Aurors, Christian assumed he was there in an observational capacity and stood just behind Radley and Malone.  He said nothing, simply nodded his head in acknowledgment of the other two's questions.

As the minute hand came threateningly close to the Midday hour, Tamis Raynor had expected Malone’s head of lively curls to appear diligently through the doorway. With purpose to her step and rigidness to her back that the Head Auror could relate to, the other woman was impeccably punctual and efficient. She reminded Raynor a lot of herself as a younger Auror, minus the occasional volatile eruption. Though, she was sure if ever thoroughly pressed Malone could prove her wrong on that point. So when it was not Malone, but Archer Radley, that entered first, Tamis was rather surprised.

Severe lines creased Radley’s face, highlighting the indentures and crow’s feet he claimed did not exist in a rather serious fashion. He marched right in and stood over her desk with his chin pressed against his chest so that he could peer down at her from overhead. Sidling her gray eyes back up at him, she raised an eyebrow in response. He was looming again. Perhaps one could not fully grasp how uncomfortable looming when one was on the upside of the over a foot height difference. She almost answered his question, even was about to ask him if he would mind sitting, when Malone quipped in charmingly. That was more characteristic.

“No notes,” she replied. “There will not be any official documentation of this meeting.”

And then the last component of the congregation arrived, slipping quietly and unassumingly in behind the other two Aurors. She nodded once in approval and then, as if her previous words had not been ominous enough, she added, “You can shut the door behind you, Colburn.” Tamis Raynor never closed her door. Even if it was the Minister of Magic himself that she was entertaining.

There was an anxiety to the air warmed by the glow of the fireplace. If the undertaking that was about to take place was not such a serious matter, the Head Auror might have found a great deal of amusement in having baffled a trio of her Aurors so entirely. Humor, however, would be underappreciated. And it would kill the mood she had worked so laboriously at creating.

“Case number two zero four five dash zero two aka the Attempted Apprehension of Kyle Gibson at Kings Cross Station.” She extracted the proper file from the collection before her and slapped it on the other side of her desk before the trio of Aurors. “Case number two zero five one dash zero two, the Assassination of Gawain Robards.” The second indicated file found its way before them. The third and final one she hung onto, for now.

Those two cases were being handled independently between the more senior Aurors she had called in. Charlene Malone had recently been assigned to help Edward Pratt with the foremost, and the latter was a part of an investigation headed by Archer in attempt to uncover a terrorist operation – a very classified and sensitive operation. “What do both of these files have in common?” She asked, almost in an educational fashion.

Being surrounded by Malone and Colburn in Ray’s office, Archer could not be sure what this was about.  He did not sit any cases with these two; in fact, he was a solitary on the highly sensitive material about the suspected terrorist organization, a bit of a lone wolf, as it were, in the office for now.   So, when he stood ramrod still and quiet, it was something of a shock that he wasn’t here to be chastised for something.  He figured it might have to do with the gigantic stick up Malone’s arse, but even Ray seemed to discourage that behavior.

No official documentation?  He raised his eyebrows in question, though said nothing, not wanting to seem as though he were questioning her judgment.  He was, however, hoping to probe a little more out of her than that.  A secret meeting meant something far more important than a slap on the wrist and reminder of protocol, which Archer found even more unsettling. 

Tamis Raynor did not shut the door for informalities.  More than usually, she did not even close the door for exceptional formalities.  She closed the door for sensitivity. 

That made this an entirely different ballgame.  Ray had something up her sleeve that even he did not know about, and that was curious to him, though not entirely unexpected.  This level of secrecy; however, was unexpected, and the auror waited quietly, finding that to be the appropriate response to the order to the colleague and heavy feeling in the room.  It was natural for an auror to be curious about his situation, but Archer was beyond curious at this point. 

He did not betray himself with humor as he might have at any other point, it didn’t seem appropriate – just the atmosphere was a bit oppressive as far as what was expected and what was going on, it felt like training all over again, especially when two case files were pulled out.  This caused his already heightened sense of alert to go up, looking from Malone to Colburn and then back at Tamis.  He knew, very well, the details of the second case – though the first was beyond him, it was well known all material was need-to-know in this office, and even if you were on the same team, it didn’t mean you all needed to know.

“Both investigations have either gone cold,” in reference to the Gibson debacle, “or are well on their way to that point,” he added, referencing the Robards case, which was part of the larger body of information he was looking at.  Lots of polyjuice, lots of torture, several suspected murders… it was all very hazy and building up, but without much fruition.  Archer had no idea, beyond that, what the two cases were going to have in common, unless some new information had come up – and if it had, they’d be notified now.   But, Pratt wasn’t here.

There was a lot about this situation that was not making sense to Archer, and he frowned deeply quietly examining the other two for their input.  The obvious fact that a ministry official had been at the bad end of the wand in both cases seemed too… crystal clear to say.  Hopefully Malone had something to offer up, and he turned his gaze back to Ray, waiting for this big secret to be revealed.   

If the unexpected summons hadn't already made her wary, the request to close the door would have more than accomplished it.  Tamis Raynor's trust in her Aurors was what Charlene liked most about the older woman, even more than her professionalism.  It was an unspoken understanding in the Auror Office that if you worked inside these doors, slaving away at all hours and putting your life on the line with each and every case, you had already proven that you were to be trusted.  Aurors might be assigned to different cases and information might be distributed on a need-to-know basis, but such divisions happened because of organizational necessity, not because of experience or being more or less on the inside. 

Charlene had often wished that some of the older Aurors, particularly some of the war veterans, would take notice of their boss's lack of distinction.  If everyone in the office extended the same trust and respect to their co-workers, it would save all of them conflict and strife.

She frowned as the door was closed, stepping to the side so that Colburn could see the desk as well.  Whatever Raynor's reason for calling them together today, the newest trainee had obviously been invited so that he could learn from the discussion.  Charlene had very definite ideas on how Auror trainees should be treated, and disregarding them by sending them off to fetch coffee or on endless errands was nowhere on the list.  She had been lucky enough to train under an Auror who had treated her with respect and included her as an equal when he could, and she was determined to show the same respect to Christian Colburn.

The question caught her by surprise.  Charlene frowned, crossing her arms against her chest as she mentally reviewed what she knew about both cases.  The Gibson case, she'd become quite familiar with after reviewing (and sometimes rewriting) all of Pratt's files.  But the investigation into Robards murder was closely guarded, and for no wonder.  She knew her partner was involved with the inquiry into Aberdeen Spencer, but she hadn't pried into it.  She knew only the most basic of facts.

Radley spoke up first, mentioning that both cases were going cold.  Charlene glanced sidelong at him, considering his words.  Was this meeting intended as some sort of reprimand because of Level Two's recent ineffectiveness?  If it was, Edward Pratt deserved to stand here even more than she did.

That realization made her stomach skip a bit.  Could they really be here to discuss Pratt's performance?  Whatever she thought of the man and however much she might dislike him, Charlene wasn't about to throw a partner into the fire.

She looked down, frowning, at the two file folders that Raynor had dropped in front of them.  If that was the real reason for the meeting, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.  For now, Charlene tried to focus on mentally reviewing the facts that she knew about both cases.

"There was evidence of the Imperious Curse being used to facilitate Gibson's escape," she said after a moment.  She didn't pause to consider whether or not to discuss sensitive facts with the others present.  Tamis Raynor had called them together and had the door closed behind them.  If Raynor trusted the group, Charlene certainly would as well.  "A Muggle, Lee Arnold, approached Gibson and took him into the bathroom.  He was found drowned two weeks later, and there was residual evidence that he had been under the Imperious Curse at the time leading up to his death."

She paused, her eyes flickering to Radley, before focusing back on Raynor.  "I'm not as familiar with the circumstances surrounding the Robards investigation, so Auror Radley could speak better as to other similarities, but my understanding is that the Imperious Curse was used there as well.  The culprit acted through a third-party agent in both cases to commit the crime."

If Chris was prone to paranoia, that emotion would be running rampant right about now.  The closed door, the lack of notes, the somber air in the room all had an unmistakably ominous feel to it.  But, luckily, paranoia wasn't one of his standard traits. He followed the issued directions, pocketing his notepad and turning his attention to the files placed on the Head Auror's desk. 

Kyle Gibson and the Robards assassination.  Of course, Chris immediately knew several things the two cases had in common.  They were both WBA operations.  The first carried out under the belief that Gibson had committed the murders and was, in fact, a supporter of theirs.  Robards had been assassinated to undermine Level II and the Ministry's reputation.  Both endeavors had been the brain children of Cinaed who'd organized and orchestrated both.  Disposable Muggle pawns had been used in both as decoys, Polyjuice donors and had been, indeed, disposed of after the fact. 

And, Chris had played a role in both cases though, as in most WBA endeavors, his had been a more behind-the-scenes position.  However, as an Auror, Chris was supposed to know nothing of either of these cases and he kept dutifully quiet. 

The insight the other Aurors offered was, certainly, interesting.  So, both cases were growing cold which Chris was glad to hear.  Cinaed would, also, be glad to hear that.  Again, another fact not for public consumption.  The imperious curse was, apparently, a noted connection between the two cases.  Imperious had been used in that Katz' abduction as well.  It had become a predictable MO.  Chris would be sure to pass that information on to Cinaed; he'd need to start changing his patterns some. 

So, was this meeting some last ditch effort to put the pieces together?  A last attempt to uncover some clue that would connect the two cases and keep them from becoming stone cold?  So, why was he there?  He wasn't, really, assigned to either case.  In fact, both had been assigned before he'd started his training.

A small frown creased the Head Auror’s lips when she did not get to results she had been looking for. The Aurors were, perhaps, too well trained. The concept of cases being on a need-to-know basis, even within the ranks, was a double-ended wand and while it usually assured office efficiency it was at rare times such as these that the system backfired. If Raynor did not have such a personal vendetta against Cináed Tawse and had not been reviewing from that angle, she would have never found the trends.

When none of the three opened the files, she leaned forward across the desk and did it for them. Malone was close, but did not quite have the whole picture. Not that she could have.

 “The use of the Imperius Curse is a consistency,” she agreed. “Lee Arnold, from the Gibson case. And, Aberdeen Spencer in Robards’ murder.” She did not linger of that last detail, but her lips had compressed as she said it. Spencer’s future as an Auror was still, at the moment, uncertain. “Spencer was believed to have been deceived while visiting her son’s muggle healer Kenneth Frobisher.” She arched an eyebrow up at the three. “He was found brutally murdered, time of death prior to Spencer’s check-up. We cannot prove it but probable cause is Polyjuice potion. The perp assumed the healer’s appearance and Imperiused Spencer.” It was all theory but it was a logical one. She showed them another Victim report from the Gibson case. “David Pattison. Used as a Polyjuice Potion ingredient to aide in Kyle Gibson’s escape.”

Gesturing to the four different victim reports now lined up next to each other, she looked back up at the Aurors, all but ignoring the trainee for the moment. “Two separate cases. Both have instances of the Imperius Curses, the use of Polyjuice Potion, and dead muggles. It is a solid MO.”

The next point was going to be met with the most criticism. Raynor purposely did not look at Archer as she continued, concentrating on Malone’s face, trying not to interpret any of their expressions just yet. “A solid MO, but it is far too consistent. Our suspect is either young or inexperienced.” She produced the Suspects list for both cases and laid them out on top of the victims. “We have one that is both.” Her index fingers landed on two identical images of Cináed Tawse grinning maliciously up at them.

She pressed forward quickly, hopefully before Archer could decide to start protesting. He alone remained the only one in the room that could suggest she had personal gain for suspecting Tawse. She had been pouring over anything and everything the Ministry had on the man for nearly a month now, both at the office and at home. And, he was the only one yet aware of their genetic connection.

“Case file number two zero five one dash zero one, aka The Kidnapping of Akiva Katz. No evidence of the Imperius Curse. No evidence of Polyjuice potion. No evidence of muggle involvement. But, it shares one similarity with the Robards’ murder,” she refused to say assassination more than she had to, even as she indicated the runic symbol, a carefully guarded secret on level two. Radley was the only one who knew the symbol might be more than a serial killer calling card and she did not plan on changing that tonight. “All three of these investigations is linked through similar evidence in Robards murder. This is all circumstantial, but circumstantial is a lot more than what we have been working with.”

Her gaze finally shifted to Colburn, meeting his gaze directly for the first time that night. “Knowing that, I hope you realize how idiotic it was for you to try and infiltrate the Black Chimaera on your own.”

The other woman spoke in a far more logical way than Archer.  She seemed to know something of what she was doing, that he never doubted – she was trained by the one auror who had his wand shoved further up his arse than she did, and then there was the small matter of being a complete stick in the mud beyond that.  Now, he didn’t think lowly of professionalism, quite the contrary, but in the midst of stress and anger, he always felt the need to unwind a tad, the people who did not understand that had a very hard time getting along with Archer, and thus a strained relationship with respect, but some level of complete misunderstanding had flourished between some of the members of the team.

Her assessment was accurate, however, and Archer would give her the credit for that.  She was astute and he wouldn’t deprive her of that recognition, but there were times where she could be a bit over analytical.  He did not know enough of the situation to warrant such an analysis, so absorbed in his own casework, he barely had time to eavesdrop on everything else, even if it could be, in the long run, relevant to his own case.  It was just a lot to absorb and very little access to most of it – though, with a strictly confidential case in his own lap, his access was considerably larger, just by nature of what he was doing. 

They just needed a lead – one solid, tangible piece of evidence to open the doors.  He couldn’t pry them though, and just waiting for the next crime to occur was killing him inside, perhaps adding to the cynicism of his comments about the nature of the case.  His personal feelings were not the only ones entering the conversation, however. 

He felt immediate discomfort once the name Cinead Tawse was mentioned.  His features turned sharp as he scrutinized Ray’s face.  She was completely serious, which possibly worried him more than anything else.  It was obvious to him that she was operating on some level of personal vendetta.  She hated the man, and he could not blame her, there were most certainly a lot of things to hate, and most aurors shared that sympathy, but they did not share the immediate conclusion to blame him for everything that ever happened.  Archer would have been happy to pin him with everything, but they needed the evidence to do it. 

She did not even look at him, which signaled to Archer that she knew he would not approve, but he kept his mouth tightly shut, waiting for her explanation.  His eyebrows were the only things that suggested he was considering something other than going along with her little idea, raised precariously high on his forehead.  And then she brought out the ringer, the one that started all of this – the Katz kidnapping.

The victim was doing infinitely better from what Archer heard and observed, he had the benefit of keeping up with that and her treatment, which was noted to be going well by the Mungo’s appointed therapist.  He knew very little beyond that, something about confidentiality, though any relevant information was turned over – investigation and whatnot, but it was not an update that Ray was giving them.

She was suggesting something.  And when she addressed Colburn directly, Archer cleared his throat.  He had walked into the Chimera on his own on more than one occasion, definitely with investigating in mind, though boiled down the lack of chastisement to his experience with field work, even if it was stupid to go it alone.  But, not everyone could be a genius 100% of the time. 

He did not know what she was starting though, and exhaled deeply out of his nose, unsure of what he wished to say.  He wanted to pull her aside and ask “what the hell are you thinking?” but he figured she would not appreciate that and it could be, with those in the room looking at him, considered insurgency and they’d both pounce.  Bloody stick up their arses!  He sighed softly and shook his head, he could not ask.  Instead, he returned to his stone face and questioned in the most official way he could, "And what are we here for, in light of such circumstantial evidence?" It was not the time or place to comment on Colburn, he just wanted to know what was going on in that head of her's.

Charlene couldn't help raising an eyebrow as Raynor first confirmed her supposition about the Imperius Curse and then added another connection with Polyjuice Potion.  She hadn't heard about the possible Polyjuice aspect of Spencer's enchantment before, but it certainly made sense.  More than that, it hinted at another possible connection to the Gibson case.  Pratt was convinced that some Muggle potion chemicals found on the stage showed that the figure who had appeared to be Gibson was actually under the influence of the shape-altering concoction.  If the potion was another common thread - and if Raynor was correct in supposing that Tawse was the perpetrator - it implied that he had been involved in the Remembering Day attack since the beginning.

Not to mention, Charlene realized, that it meant that there could be a far more sinister reason to explain why they hadn't found Gibson.  If he had been used in a Polyjuice Potion and the real culprit was suspected to be involved in his "escape" at the train station, then chances were that the boy was dead as well.  Young and inexperienced or not, it did not seem as if the perpetrator was fond of leaving loose ends about.

The link between the Robards assassination and the Katz kidnapping was a surprise to her, too.  Charlene pressed her lips together as she regarded the runic symbol.  If Raynor was correct, not only had someone - possibly Tawse - taken to perpetrating crimes against the Ministry, but he or she was determined to anonymously take credit for it.  There was a pattern developing that she did not like.  There were too few places where it could lead.

She had been about to open her mouth, to ask a question of her own, when Raynor shifted her attention to Chris Colburn.  Charlene blinked, a look of surprise crossing her face before she quickly schooled her features again, her gaze sliding over to the trainee.  He'd tried to infiltrate the Chimaera?  The pub had quickly become infamous for its animosity to those in the law-enforcing profession.  Even as a trainee, his name was likely known to some of the patrons there.  That was a risk that he should never have taken.

"Yes, I'd like to know that as well," she said, adding on to Radley's sentiment even as her gaze stayed locked on Colburn.  Had he been trying to play the hero?  She'd thought he was far too sensible for that.  "It's going to be difficult to move on circumstantial evidence.  If Tawse is really involved - " and she hadn't been convinced of that yet, "- then we'll need something more solid before we bring him in, won't we?  Even if he is a parolee.  It doesn't sound if there's anything solid to link him to yet."

So, the Ministry was piecing together more details than they'd suspected.  They thought the Gibson case was connected to Spencer's curse.  Which was true, even if the connection was only though the individuals involved.  Polyjuice and muggles were becoming a pattern as well.  A foolish mistake.  One they, really, should have seen but  Cináed had insisted it was foolproof.  Chris hadn't considered contesting.  Which put them in a precarious situation.  Did they change their tactics from here on out?  Would that be too obvious?  Or, did that run the risk of leading back to this meeting?  If the MO was changed successfully and fully, it shouldn't, right?  Because no one would suspect the crimes connected.  But, if they did, that had the potential to lead right back to him. 

Chris didn't bat an eye when  Cináed's name was mentioned.  It might have been a valid suspicion but it could have just as well been Raynor grappling for whatever she could.  She had a vendetta against the ex-con and was looking for any excuse to lock him away.  He was still looking at the collection of files on the desk when Raynor's attention, and question, were finally directed at him. 

So, she knew about his sitting in on the meeting.  Even with his previous experience with the Knockturn crowd and Mannie flanking him on one side, it had been rather foolish.  Most in the room believed they knew him in the same capacity that the Ministry knew him - as a traitor to their ranks.  A turn-tail who'd left Knockturn to join the Ministry.  It was very possible he would have faced an extremely cold and unfriendly welcoming. 

"Perhaps," Chris offered.  Time, alone, would tell if approaching this conversation in a wishy-wash manner was the best tactic.  His gaze flickered towards Malone as she joined Raynor.  His gaze met hers a moment.  "But, I believed it a calculated risk; one worth taking.  As I suspect you know, they were meeting and they certainly weren't going to let an Auror in."  He turned back towards Raynor.  As an essential part of his initial evaluation, he'd divulged his previous dealings with Knockturn and, indeed, Tawse to Raynor knowing she was bound to come across it at some time.  It seemed much safer to offer it up front when he had the opportunity to provide his own explanation and excuses.  He didn't know if that word had propagated out into the rest of the Auror office, yet, but it seemed it would spreading to at least these two.  He assumed that was the reason for the closed door.

With a humble and apologetic dip of his head, Chris continued.  "As you know, I spent some time down there after finishing Hogwarts.  Was a regular of the Chimaera in its early days.  Many know I'm a 'traitor' and would have tried to get violent if they knew I was there but, as much as I disagree with what he does, Tawse isn't stupid.  He wouldn't have allowed anything to happen.  Being there was relatively safe; leaving was when it got nerve-wrecking.  But, the place was under surveillance; Tawse warned the attendees of that.  There was back up, even if I didn't know where." 

Chris and  Cináed had discussed, at length, what Chris could reveal in the event something like this happened.  They knew there was a chance the Auror office would find out.  They'd decided, revealing the presence of that emblem wouldn't be damning in itself.  It'd link Knockturn to the crimes but no single person.  It was the anonymity of branding.  Right now, it seemed, throwing a big bone would help placate the pack.   

"That design was there," he said, pointing towards the WBA symbol.  "There seemed to be some efforts to recruit so it was impossible to tell, without a doubt, who was associated with it and who wasn't.  But, it was definitely there."

There was a heartbeat of silence in which her theory was absorbed by the three Aurors present, for better or for worse. She waited. She could almost feel the waves of indignation seeping out of Archer Radley’s orifices and she waited for the explosion on her insanity and obsession. Waited but it never came. Which meant it would come later. Accepting the postponed confrontation, her gaze settled on Malone. She seemed skeptical but open minded. Colburn barely responded.

“I agree,” she said to Radley and Malone. “We cannot take legal action at this venture, but it is a lead.” Any lead is better than not having one. Finding that lead had stemmed from personal gain but the patterns could not be denied.

“There are wizards and witches, and for Merlin’s sake Muggles, dying. Have been for months. I do not want to wait for another autopsy report to do something about it. ” Tamis Raynor was not a particularly emotional woman. She sounded annoyed at best.

“Someone is trying to discredit our competence and they are doing a bloody good job of it.” A little more heat that time. It was far more than just embarrassing. There was a reason that Level Two was the largest and considered most powerful of the Departments that composed the governing agency. There was a reason that Magical Law Enforcement held the record for producing Ministers of Magic. The Wizarding World looked to them to secure the safety and order of England. If the Public lost faith in the Justice and Law Offices, faith in the governmental structure as a whole tended to decline. History proved that.

Three members of Law Enforcement murdered in less than six months, including the Department Head himself. All of them had been Aurors, past or present. Gawain Robards had been taken out by an Auror. An Imperioused one. She tired of sitting on her hands and waiting for the answer to fall in their laps. They could not afford to wait any longer or this problem would threaten to become larger than it already was.

All eyes were on the unconventional trainee as he moved in for an explanation. A first year trainee. They spent more time filing reports and brewing coffee than they did at the Auror Academy. Field work, shadowing a current Auror, was even less unlikely. She watched Colburn’s facial contours as he spoke but he either had spent a lifetime in advance preparing his “Auror face” or he had expected this and rehearsed. He was intelligent or lucky. Possibly he was both.

When he indicated the symbol in the case files, the one that the Aurors Office had been brainstorming over for a great many months, Raynor did not outwardly portray her shock. It was no grand surprise that it was being advertised at the Black Chimaera. Archer had surmised as much the previous month when he pulled that child from the premises. But they had never had anything confirmed. To hear it now, so casually stated, caught her off guard.

She recovered quickly, inclining her head once in acknowledgement of the words. She did not ask him if he was sure or to repeat. It would have been redundant.

“This Office is a team, Colburn,” she replied. “You need to communicate to keep everyone on the same page. If those Aurors did not recognize you, your support would have been imaginary.” A pause. “You should also be the proper rank.”

Running a hand through her hair, the Head Auror leaned back in her chair. She had debated this point since she learned of Colburn’s little venture but she had not been certain about persuing it until this moment. “You did manage to successfully infiltrate the Black Chimaera and were able to gather intel.”

Turning her gaze back up to the more senior Aurors in the room she explained, “Tawse or not, the Black Chimaera is being used as a Headquarters. We need an inside man. Considering his previous connections I want to send Colburn in undercover. Investigating the organization behind this symbol,” she tapped a finger on the skull and rune, “is Radley’s case. All of Colburn’s findings concerning it would be reported to him. Colburn’s connections are the only reason I am considering this. This is dangerous for a regular Auror. Malone, I would like you to help guide Colburn. Keep him from getting killed over uneducated mistakes.”

Raynor did not speak in definites. This was not an assignment she was ordering, it was one that she was suggesting. With the sheer level of risk involved, it was not something she would demand of them. Her attention turned back to Chris, “That is if you can convince Knockturn that you are not a traitor.”

There were other risks, one that Archer Radley was no doubt silently blowing a gasket over. Christian Colburn was a relatively new trainee. Considering his record, this level of trust in the young man was hardly warranted and considerably foolish. Tamis Raynor was not naive. There was more than one game that she was playing here. She was riding on the hope that, if nothing else, Archer trusted her. She did not need Malone questioning faith in the trainee. Not unless it was warranted.

Tonight was not going to be a peaceful night. Nor was this Office when Malone and Colburn left. She resisted massaging her temples.