[Outfit]

The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office was small for three people, but they had managed. Late was the hour for work and still, Shannon had not left the sanctuary of her work. All around her desk on the walls were moving pictures of her husband, children, and various muggle objects that had marked significant points in her career. Each object had earned a place in her permanent memory and each had a story to tell. The image of antique ashtray pinned to the picture of her oldest daughter Elle had given her a lot of trouble during her first month in the MoMA career. She peered up at it thoughtfully, temporarily trying to distract her bustling mind with nostalgia. The hazel eyes, enshrouded mostly in green, wandered over the many pictures of her family. Was it her imagination or did the looming shadow of a threat appear behind them in the picture of Garrett's first day at Hogwarts?

"Curse it all," she seethed between gritted teeth. "Curse my folly for going to my cousin for help!"

Upon her desk sat a pile of paperwork that she'd been lazy about doing nearly all week. Reports, large photos of a specific telephone, and her own tiny pieces of parchment in assorted colors were scattered all over so that one couldn't see the cherry wood of her desk beneath them. There was a calendar underneath it all that had scribbles of plans or due dates that she did her best to avoid looking at.

Once again, the woman leaned back frustratedly in her uncomfortable chair to toy with the mirror necklace dangling against her collarbone. Reflections on past meetings with her blackmailer had put her in another depression and she was getting more and more testy with every visit of his Kroneys. Again and again, he threatened her children and the crushing weight of what she had to do was smothering her. Lying to the Ministry, smuggling artifacts from her job to give to Lothario, and being taunted by Terry while his mocking smirks told her he was prepared at any moment to attack her children! With her co-workers and head gone for the evening, Shannon could not help but give way to the urge to lose control.

She shrieked her ire loudly and still the anger that was building inside of her did not subside. How would she stop this all? For weeks, she'd been trying to find a way out but it was doing her as much good as if she'd been tossed into the bottom of a well and trying to claw her way out. There was too much at stake! Her husband, beloved Alastaire... What if some harm came to him? And her children, only in school save for the twins who were not yet 8 years old... They'd all be injured for her folly! Why couldn't she muster the strength to do the right thing and tell the Aurors? They had become aware of the crime lord that now stomped at her with the heel of his boot. The knave! There was the shame of it all to consider, as well. Not from the Ministry, though they were getting enough bad publicity as it was, but with her family. What would they say of her keeping this secret from them? Alastaire might leave her on the pretext that she didn't trust him enough to tell him. But she did trust him! It was Kronos and his lackeys she didn't trust. If only there was some way out...

The depression set in and Shannon picked up her quill, yet could not coax her hand to write. Tears flowed from her eyes. The Ministry could find out and she would be ruined, her family would turn from her, and if Kronos learned of her apprehension, he would sick that mutt Terry upon her babes and beloved to maul them all! Her panic attack became worse and the woman's eyes frantically searched for something, anything to deter her mind from the path it was on. Another scream of frustration let itself out and Shannon stabbed her quill so hard into the parchment below that it bled ink all over the paper. There was no end to her plight! She was doomed, no matter which door she tried to burst through to escape. Shannon was trapped in a house of mirrors, each reflection as sinister and cruel as the next one she saw.

Nowadays the majority of the auror office worked late. That meant Edward Pratt could often be found at his desk several hours after he could have gone home. That meant that Quincy Pratt was never particularly happy when he finally returned home. That meant that her husband would only stay at work even later to avoid her for as long as possible. She got mad because he wasn’t there. She got suspicious because he’d spent so much time with his female partner who he seemed to moan about a little too much. She got furious because he didn’t seem to realise his actions were the cause of her anger and it wasn’t all the obsessive paranoia of a heavily pregnant woman looking after three children.

Therefore on the evening of the 26th Pratt was finishing up later than the night before. That happened. He was gradually arriving home later and later. It was safer that way. Or so the idiotic blonde auror thought. He reluctantly stood up from his desk and pulled on the comofrtable black robes that hung up on the hat stand in the small cubicle. A habitual check of the wand in his holster and he exited the cubicle and the auror office.

It was a few paces down the main corridor of the law enforcement floor when the auror heard what sounded like a scream. He frowned and glanced around. It had come from around the corner. He withdrew his wand from its home and rounded the corner at lightning speed, making sure there was nothing around it. The noise had gone. No more screaming. Ed stopped outside the door he’d been sure the noise had come from and kicked it open with a foot, wand poised and ready to do it’s job. Raynor had made it damn well clear there was going to be a lot of trouble coming but Ed hadn’t expected something inside their department.

But a moment after he’d kicked open the door, Ed’s wand lowered slightly and he looked into the room at the witch sat at her desk, definitely not looking dead or attacked. He frowned and cautiously stepped into the room. “Ye alright, luv’?”

Tears came, but she wiped them off. What was she going to do? How much longer could she keep this up before she cracked? Her imagination soared with the scene of her mind: one day at one of Kronos's meetings, she would snap at the sound of his melancholy attitude and spells would be flying. The plan formulated so many times in her mind. She'd kill Terry first so that the dog wouldn't be going after her children, paralyze Lothario, and she'd save the most painful, torturous spells she could think of for Kronos Malvivicus. That was her plan, but Shannon knew all to well the risks involved. If her spell missed or they'd drawn their wands faster, it would all be over. Her children and husband would be killed--or worse--at the hands of Terry...

The door was kicked open and one of the Aurors burst in, bringing a scream of terror from the woman who leaped from her chair that was knocked over backwards in her haste. She'd been caught! They'd figured it all out! She'd be sent to Azkaban without a chance to properly explain, news would get back to Kronos, and her family would be--

"Ye alright, luv’?"

The woman was shaking, not just from being scared out of her wits by the violent entrance of the Auror, but by the overwhelming panic in her mind. Shannon felt dizzy and extremely light-headed as if she would faint at any moment. One of the exercises that her husband made her go through when she felt this way (which was rare) was to concentrate on breathing. Her hand placed itself on her forehead, brushing upwards the dark brown, almost black, bangs while she closed her eyes and tried to think only of inhaling and exhaling slowly. Knees shaking, she leaned to the side and supported herself via hip and shoulder against the wall.

"Mr. Pratt," a name that she was hardly acquainted with, "you scared the living daylights out of me." A rattled sigh escaped her before she opened her eyes again, the dizzy spell starting to fade. She placed a hand over her chest to try and calm her throbbing heart. "I'm...all right now, but you gave me a start. What in merlin's name are you doing barging into my office at this hour? If you need me to finish up that report on the telephone, you only had to ask!"

Her natural enthusiasm returned with falsely played anger. Although her tone had been harsh, there was also a twinkling in her hazel-green eyes and a smile on her lips that openly showed she was joking with him. Shannon was not at all angry with him, only terribly surprised at his abrupt entrance. The woman's hand fell away from her chest and she immediately hurried to pick up her chair and sit back down, flashing the man a winning smile when she picked up her quill.

"I can have this fixed up in a jiffy, Mr. Pratt, no need to worry. I was just dotting my i's and crossing my t's."

Pratt hadn’t meant to scare the woman. But nonetheless, the shriek that she elicited as he made his somewhat...abrupt entrance was an ear splitting shock. It was painful to say the least, causing a rare headache that created more pain than the nagging ex-wife. But after wincing slightly from the scream, Ed eyed her carefully. She looked positively terrified and he gripped his wand tighter. He knew his entrance had probably been a shock to her but surely not that much.

“My apologies...” The auror muttered, frowning as he stepped more into the room further. He didn’t pay the woman much mind for a moment and instead glanced around the room. She seemed to be pretty scared of something and why would it be him? Well, besides the fact he’d just kicked the door open. He pulled the door closed more, making sure to check around it.

What in Merlin’s sacred name was she rambling on about?  Ed finally focused on the woman, his brow creased in confusion as he lowered his wand, deciding not to put it back into its holster just yet. She looked incredibly harried.

“Crossin’ your...?” Ed shook his head, he didn’t need a report on a tellyfone. “I ‘eard a screamm Ma'am.” He stated bluntly, his bright green eyes scanning the room once more before falling on the office’s inhabitant. “I’m guessin’ that were you or I need more sleep.”

The shaken up woman behind the desk looked as if she’d been crying. That instantly made Ed uncomfortable. He’d had experience of dealing with two different women crying. His mam and his ex-wife. The first one he could deal with. He didn’t have to live there and could leave his dad to it. But his ex-wife? Ed had been dealing with her for twenty years and he still patted her on the shoulder and resisted the urge to tell her that it could be worse.  But with a stranger? Ed decided the best course of action was to not acknowledge this fact and instead stand as close to the door (his exit route) as possible.

He scanned the room looking for something. Did he suspect? No, he couldn't. This was one of the few times she'd been alone with an Auror after office hours unless it was extremely brief. He and her rarely spoke a word other than polite greeting in passing, if that. How could anyone suspect her? Unless...unless her absent co-workers saw her take last week's firearm that magically shot people on it's own? Her smile faltered momentarily, but she tried to stay perky.

"I ‘eard a screamm Ma'am. I’m guessin’ that were you or I need more sleep."

"Oh! Oh, yes, that was me. I was frustrated with work, you see. I-I was supposed to go to dinner with my husband tonight and I was just thinking about what a lovely I'd be having instead of stuck here finishing this report." It was a lie: her husband would be working late tonight at the restaurant as well. She redoubled her efforts to smile more sincerely. "My apologies, Mr. Pratt, I won't startle you again. Would you...would you mind if I took this home to finish it?"

Her hazel eyes dipped downward to the folder and scattered papers, landing primarily upon the picture of the telephone. This particular item wasn't just hexed, it was cursed. She already had the object at home having smuggled it the other night, but now she needed to take the paperwork home to copy notes where no one could be watching. These notes would go with the telephone to Lothario who could sell it on the black market. That was why she had taken so long with the file: she needed the notes and in front of her co-workers, she was unable to do so. They had left work, of course, but she'd become distracted by her conscience.

"I can have it back here in the morning straight away and be able to turn it in. If I don't have it by tomorrow morning, I'm sure my boss will have my head."

Shannon's head tipped to the side just a bit as she looked at him from an angle that was almost flirtatious. It was as if the woman was caught between womanly pleading and asking him the way a child would ask for a cookie. "Pretty please?" would be the proper term for it. If she had permission from him, her guilt might ease a bit and she could justify it with the same lie she'd just given him: it was for work and she had to finish it soon.

Having ceased his quick examination of the room, Ed glanced at Mrs Thornton, a woman he’d had limited contact with, and his eyebrows rose. She was asking him if she could take a report home? Well he didn’t know anything about a...what had she mentioned? A cursed telephone? Ed cared for that right now as much as he cared for limescale on a teapot. It wasn’t exactly something he felt required his opinion. She should be asking her superior. Ed was smart enough to not say either way. She seemed a little...flighty and he wasn’t getting it in the neck if Miss Stressed lost the report in favour of dining out with her husband. She was lucky she was a spouse willing to do that without starting an argument about ‘alternative motives’.

“It ‘ent my place to say, luv’.” The auror responded plainly. He returned his wand to its home in the holster on his hip, deciding the woman was just a little bonkers and nothing serious had caused her little moment of craze. Women were just lunatics if Ed was to be honest. One only had to take one look at his pregnant missus. She was positively homicidal at the moment. A maniac energised by crazy inducing pregnancy hormones. It was a terrifying mix if ever there was one.

She gave him a look that to Ed just seemed to be that her neck was a little itchy. Her head tilted to the side, a strange kind of smile. Obviously trying to rid herself of an itch. He kept his face plain and shook his head. “It would be irresponsible of me to say either way, Mrs Thornton. Especially considerin’ me lack of knowledge regardin’ said report.”

After a couple of moments, Ed folded his arm and shifted his weight onto his left leg. “I can empathise wi’yer boss, though. Mine’s perfected the art of breathin’ fire.”

Saying it wasn't his place was absolutely astounding to Shannon! To her, it was as good as him giving his consent. Whether it was his place to say about the report or not, if he'd suspected her of anything, he would have stopped her. Inwardly, she sighed in relief and gathered up the papers into the folder very neatly. When she turned to face him again, she was smiling very sweetly.

"I can empathise wi’yer boss, though. Mine’s perfected the art of breathin’ fire."

"Miss Raynor, isn't it? She's an absolute darling,"--by 'darling', she meant a doll when she didn't cross Shannon's path--"and I just love the way she's so tight on security." It meant Shannon could get out, but Kronos couldn't get in. Not personally, anyway. She hoped.

"Why, without her, the wizarding world would be in a mess. Truly, the Aurors are the ones that keep our community low on crime, unlike the muggles. If only the Minister himself was a bit more like all of you, I'm sure I'd be able to believe him when he said things like 'you're safe to sleep at night' and 'your children are safe'."

Not that hers were. She had been losing a lot of sleep over the past couple of years thanks to Kronos. The woman bit her lip and cast a worried glance in the direction of her nightly visitor. If only she could tell him... If only she didn't have to worry about her children's safety. Hogwarts was supposed to be the safest place in the wizarding world, but somehow she doubted it. One more slip-up and her children would be dead, her husband mutilated. The woman tucked the folder under her arm and fiddled with the edge nervously. If only she could tell him, then her conscience would be clear and she could stop sneaking things out of her office and get to sleep at night knowing her children were safe. With Aurors like Pratt, Raynor, and Archer working in the same office as her, it was a surprise that she was able to smuggle artifacts out without being suspected.

"I-I really must get home tonight, Mr. Pratt. My husband... You must understand?"

Again, her lips pulled into another winning smile as she started to walk towards him to get out. Why couldn't she just spill it all right there and then? No, that wouldn't be a good idea. Not as long as Terry was sneaking around, not as long as she knew her children weren't safe. As long as Kronos lived and breathed, she wouldn't be able to grow the spine to turn herself in. She only hoped that he kept his side of the bargain: not hurting her family.