Into The Long Dark

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never will be, I just like to play with the boys & girls. No money made from this.

Sunday, 10 August 1997


~~~~~~SEVEN~~~~~~~~\"T.M.F.A.\"~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Rufus Scrimgeour had had better days. It was just past midnight, and he saw no end to the work that lay before him spread over his desk. He had just reached his first anniversary as Minister of Magic, and as much as he hated to admit it, he found that he longed for those seemingly carefree days when he was simply the Head Of Aurors.

There had been the expected amount of bureaucratic paperwork then, but it paled in comparison to what he had to deal with now. The stream of owls seemed never-ending, and even now, at this late hour, a tawny had fluttered overhead, dropping another large parchment envelope onto his already overflowing \'IN\' basket. Although he would never say it to anyone, Scrimgeour had actually altered his opinion of that prat Fudge. No wonder the old boy lost his edge, he sighed wearily.

\"Bollocks!\" Picking up the latest delivery and scanning it quickly, he scowled as he noted the sender\'s name. \"Weasley, again!\" He ran a rough hand over his lion-like mane of quickly graying hair.
That wanker created more reports by himself than an entire sodding department!

Scrimgeour tossed the newest arrival onto the already teetering pile of Weasley-generated paperwork mounded next to his oil lamp. It balanced there for a moment, finally sliding off the towering stack and into his overflowing wastebasket.

\"Perfect landing,\" he muttered. If Voldemort did nothing else but quietly slide off and take a permanent holiday, the Wizarding World would most likely continue on its current course of paranoid self-destruction.

Bloody brilliant plan, Scrimgeour snorted. True, the Death Eaters were much more active than they had been before Voldemort\'s resurrection, but their activities paled in comparison to the ruckus caused by the general wizarding population in response to it.

The Ministry was short of Aurors, The Office of Misinformation was in such a frenzied state due to the large number of MMM\'s taking place (Muggle Memory Modification) that he wondered if there even was such a thing as a full staff of Obliviators.

He shook his head as he scanned the reports. Complaints about faulty protection charms; My husband is HWMNBN; My cat is HWMNBN; Wizards hexing muggles because they looked like HWMNBN; Wizards hexing wizards because they looked like HWMBN; farm animals being hexed because they resembled HWMBN; household items being hexed because they were HWMNBN in disguise. Scrimgeour paused for a moment, pinched the bridge of his nose forcefully, and shook his head.

Aside from generating mountains of reports, Weasley was the king of acronyms. Scrimgeour shuddered with the realization that he had actually started to use them himself. In meetings. In general conversation. At dinner. Well, HWMNBN is shorter than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named....

\"Bah!\"

Yanking open his bottom left desk drawer, he pulled out a half-empty bottle of firewhiskey. A tumbler hovered over from the cabinet across the office, landing neatly on his desk. Scrimgeour proceeded to fill it to the rim, downing the entire thing at once. Wheezing loudly, he returned the bottle to its hiding place just as a wobbling gray owl flew in, dropping another packet onto his desk. It landed on the unstable Weasley tower of files, and the entire stack swayed for a moment, before toppling over onto the floor with a substantial WHUMP!

As he stared dazedly at the spilt files splayed across his office carpet, there was a frenzied rapping on his office door. Before he could say \'Come in,\' the door burst open, and an excited looking Percy Weasley swept into the room, his arms laden with still more files. Scrimgeour goggled at the stack of parchment envelopes in Percy\'s arms, and absently wondered whether he should have listened to his mother.

\"Sir!\" Weasley puffed excitedly, \"So sorry to disturb you at this late hour, but I have some vital information to share with you!\" His horn-rimmed glasses were slightly askew, and his robes were practically falling off of his shoulders. \"Sir?\"

Scrimgeour felt his stomach twist into knots. He gazed at the files Weasley was holding, and then at the ones on the floor, and back again. After a quick, wistful glance at his bottom left drawer, he raised his eyes once again to his assistant, who was impatiently shifting the huge stack of parchments to his other arm.

\"For the love of the Gods, Weasley, don\'t you ever go home?\"

Percy drew himself up, and looked as if he had been insulted. \"Sir, I, well, yes, of course I do, but only after my work is completed for the day! I was working on the new UMAR reporting system, and I just wanted to share the latest data with you. I noticed that you were still in,\" he said breathlessly, and paused, if only to draw in more air.

Scrimgeour had slumped in his leather chair, and was staring at Weasley with a supremely pained expression.

\"U-what? What the blazes are you prattling on about?\" He reached for his bottom left drawer and pulled it open.

\"U-MAR, sir!\" Percy repeated. \"Unauthorized Magical Activity Report? UMAR? I discussed this with you last week, right after the meeting about AMSS.\"

\"AMSS?\" Scrimgeour retrieved the bottle of firewhiskey and plopped it onto his desk.

Weasley looked warily at the bottle, and then back to his superior. \"Yes, sir, AMSS, Automatic Muggle Surveillance System? Part of UMECS.\"

Scrimgeour poured the firewhiskey into his glass; it overflowed onto his desk. \"Eunuchs?\" he said absently, using a file folder as a coaster.

Percy eyes grew wide. \"No, sir, that would be U-M-E-C-S, Universal Magical Enforcement Control System. You recall the meeting where I discussed the implementation of the new protocols?\"

\"Protocols, yes.\" Scrimgeour downed the second glass of whiskey. \"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Weaselby,\" he warbled. \"You may, ah, go.\"

Percy hesitated for a moment, and then made a dramatic lunge for the firewhiskey bottle. Plucking it from Scrimgeour\'s hand just as he was about to refill his glass, he unloaded his armful of files onto the desk. Still grasping the nearly empty bottle in his hand, he continued.

\"I\'m sorry, sir, I know you have been under a lot of stress lately. But I need you to please listen to what I have to say. Sir?\"

Scrimgeour\'s eyes had been following the bottle in Weasley\'s gesturing hand.

Bloody Hell. \"Yes, please, get it over with. But stop using those blasted abbreviations!\" Scrimgeour leaned forward and made an admirable effort to look attentive. \"Proceed, Weaselby.\"

\"That\'s Weasley, sir,\" Percy\'s tone was chilly. \"As I mentioned earlier, we have recently gotten the UMAR system--sorry, sir, but it\'s easier to say it like that--the UMAR system is up and running. You will recall it required that we merely had to upgrade the type of guardian wards in use to provide more accurate data?\"

Scrimgeour furrowed his brow with the realization that perhaps if he played along, this annoying prat would simply go away. Continue,\" he said gravely.

Percy forged ahead. \"Well, you will recall that we chose to upgrade the wards that protect number 12, Grimmauld Place, using that location as our test?\"

Scrimgeour nodded. I believe I\'ll have to get those draperies replaced. Looking rather faded, he mused fuzzily.

\"With the old style protection wards, a large area around them was rendered blind to our spell detection and monitoring. In essence, there could be massive amounts of magical activity within, say twenty to thirty yards of the outer perimeter of the protection field, and with the old system, we had minimal evidence of spell casting, let alone the type and time of the casting. With the new wards, we have eliminated this dead zone!\" Percy paused, waiting for a reaction. He received none.

There was nothing but silence, and then another folder slid off of the desk.

\"Grimmauld Place, Grimmauld Place, oh yes, the old Black house? Yes, I recall that meeting now.\" Scrimgeour noted how the picture over his mantel was crooked. With a lazy flick of his wand, he corrected it.

\"It was your suggestion, sir,\" Percy reminded him uneasily. Holding the whiskey bottle with one hand, he then riffled through the stack of files on the desk, and pulled one out, seemingly at random.

\"You were most interested in the magical activity around Grimmauld Place and the surrounding environs.\" He leafed through the file, and pulled out some pages, quickly moving around the desk to stand next to his supervisor.

\"Yes, of course I recall, continue,\" Scrimgeour huffed.

Percy had spread a number of graphs and charts out onto the already crowded desk. \"As you can see, Grimmauld Place is in rather close proximity to The Dragon\'s Lair, a dual use establishment. There has been suspected vampiric activity around this establishment, but since there are wards guarding the wizarding portion of the club, we have been unable to monitor these type of locations for the reasons I just mentioned. Also, it is common knowledge that one can cast spells without fear of reprisal as long as one is near a protection field, basically using the occlusive properties of the field to hide their activities.\" Percy pushed the relative charts towards his superior.

Scrimgeour gawked at the graphs, which had been animated for maximum effect. They made his stomach churn. \"Continue,\" he said queasily.

Percy shuffled in the mass of parchment and placed another one in Scrimgeour\'s hands. \"Since I never received a response from you concerning my memo of 31 July, I took the liberty of upgrading the wards protecting the wizarding portion of the club located in the basement of The Dragon\'s Lair.\"

More harried shuffling, and a new page was placed in front of the old one. \"Very insightful results, if I may say, sir!\"

He wasn\'t sure of what the blazes he was supposed to make of the page, which was awash in numbers. \"Yes, insightful. Please, elaborate.\" Scrimgeour handed the paper to his assistant, who looked slightly disappointed, but plowed forward.

\"Yes, sir,\" Percy picked up a nearby quill, and began highlighting lines on the graph. \"Look here, sir. Last evening, 8:08 pm, a Disapparition from behind Grimmauld place, and then the corresponding Apparition behind 156 Larchmere. Forward to 8:37 pm, and we see two Stupefaction Charms thrown in quick succession, followed by a Featherweight Charm at 8:38 pm, immediately followed by a Disapparition. All four of these spells occurred within sixty feet of The Dragon\'s Lair; the corresponding Apparition was in the alley behind Grimmauld Place. With the old style wards, this level of data analysis would have been impossible.\"

Scrimgeour had been picking at a scuff mark in the finish on the edge of his desk. \"Fascinating. Is there more?\" he slurred.

Percy beamed. \"Yes, sir! I have data from this evening, which indicates another Disapparition from Grimmauld to Larchmere, as well as numerous spells cast in the area around The Dragon\'s Lair. I only have new data going back about ten days, sir. But it indicates regular Apparitions between Grimmauld and Larchmere, and excessive activity around the club. I suggested in my memo of 5 August that Auror activity be increased in this area, and that we also move forward with the program to upgrade all protection wards to facilitate the generation of more accurate data.\"

Percy began to breathe again, and folded his arms triumphantly, a satisfied expression on his face.

\"Very good. Continue.\" Scrimgeour raised one of his bushy eyebrows.

\"Sir?\" Percy\'s face fell into confusion for a moment. \"Yes, well, I would suggest contacting the Auror on duty in the area and alerting them to these findings.\"

\"Excellent. As you were!\" Scrimgeour leaned back again, pausing a moment before wagging his eyebrows, indicating the bottle of firewhiskey in Percy\'s hand.

\"Oh, sorry, sir. Here you are.\" He placed the nearly empty bottle next to his supervisor\'s glass.

Scrimgeour emptied the bottle into the glass. As he set the bottle back onto the desk, it began to refill. \"You\'ll take care of that Auror thing, then?\"

\"Yes, sir. Now, sir?\" Percy asked with uncertainty.

\"Thank you, Weaselby. I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. Good night.\" Scrimgeour waved his wand, and the office door opened wide.

\"Thank you, sir.\" Percy collected his graphs and folders, and nodded and bowed his way out of the office.

Draining his glass, Scrimgeour leaned back in his chair once more. The sudden realization hit him that perhaps he was sweating the details a bit too much. Nodding contentedly, a smile crept across his face, and he waved his wand over his desk. Every last file, paper, folder and memo immediately disappeared.

Been a long time, old friend, he thought as he gazed serenely at his barren desktop. He made a mental note to send an owl to Fudge first thing in the morning.


~~~~~~~~~~~


Tonks sat in her Ministry Surveillance Vehicle, eating her vegetable lo-mein with chopsticks. MSV, I mean, she thought, shaking her head as she noisily slurped the noodles. She wished she had a cold beer to wash it down. Another two hours, and I plan to have several, as she anticipated going off-duty. Normally, she would have had a partner, but some sodding efficiency expert at the Ministry had decided it was more effective to spread the Aurors about more thinly. Usually she had been teamed with Kingsley Shaklebolt.

The TSR (Temporary Staffing Reduction) was okey-dokey with Tonks, as she had no problem spending time alone. She enjoyed the solitude right now, especially after that fiasco with Remus. HFBE!

How fucking bloody embarrassing indeed, she recalled. Throwing herself at the werewolf, only to find that he batted for the other team, as it were. At least he was honest, and got it over with quickly. She appreciated that, and had found it impossible to be angry with Remus. It had taken awhile, but she was feeling much better, which was quite evident as her daily haircolors were once again alternating between pink, purple, and blue.

She had just finished her take-away when the passenger door of the van flew open, and Percy Weasley blustered inside in a flurry of robes. He had obviously been running, as his face glistened with sweat, and his curly red hair was matted to his head. He just sat there huffing while she wiped her mouth with a napkin and banished the empty food box to the rather impressive pile of assorted wrappers, cans, and trash that filled the passenger side floor of the van.

\"Wotcher, Percy,\" Tonks said distractedly. \"Rather late for a jog, ain\'t it?\" A smile began to creep onto her face, as she noted Weasley\'s distressed expression, which deepened when he shifted his feet, causing a satisfying plink and crackle of crushing drink cans and discarded take-away bags.

Bloody Hell, he looks like he just stepped in a pile of thestral dung. She couldn\'t hold it back any longer, and a small but notable gaspy chuckle burst out. Tonks quickly covered her mouth with her hand, as much to hide her widening smile as it was to muffle the giggles that were threatening to escape. She shifted slightly, leaning against the inside of her door, draping her other arm on the back of her seat.

Percy\'s look of distress was quickly replaced with one of annoyance. \"I fail to see what you find so amusing, Nymphadora.\" Percy emphasized Tonk\'s first name with relish, knowing how much she disliked it.

\"You are aware that the UMSVA you signed stipulates that all Ministry vehicles are to be kept in proper order at all times?\" He paused, obviously waiting for a response, and when he didn\'t get one, he continued. \"In addition, you may recall that I have reminded you previously that this, this, vehicle did not meet the minimum requirements of the MSVQC subchapter of the MSV guidelines?\" Percy finished his tirade, and with a faint crunching of wrappers, leaned back in his seat.

Tonks was barely controlling her laughter. The pompous sod actually loves talking like that! The longer she remained silent, the more agitated Weasley was becoming, the look of smug superiority rapidly vanishing from his face.

He had been the only person to take issue with Tonk\'s choice of MSV. She had fallen in love with the decrepit, old Volkswagen microbus the first time she had seen it in the Ministry\'s Impound Lot for Enchanted Vehicles (ILEV).

It had belonged to a wizard, and after his death had somehow ended up on a muggle wholesale lot. Predictably, Obliviators were necessary, and the VW had ended up at the impound lot, slated to be scrapped. Tonks rescued it, and had been using it ever since. Even though the pale blue paint was faded, and it sported dings, dents, and rust spots everywhere, it had far more personality that the bland sedans the Ministry provided. The fact that it annoyed Weasley no end was an added bonus. Smiling wickedly, she pointed at the glove box. \"Take a look at the Registration Packet. In there.\"

Percy shot her a wary glance, and then opened the glove box door to a shower of napkins, straws, and condiment packets. With a pained expression, he reached in and pulled out the registration packet, and unfolded the parchment forms, scanning them quickly.
Savagely flipping the pages, it was as if Percy had suddenly been punctured. He visibly deflated, sinking back into his seat. Carefully refolding the packet, he began stuffing the napkins and other items back into the glove box. Finally placing the packet on top, he closed the glove box door swiftly, to prevent the straws from escaping.

\"I believe everything is in order?\" Tonks cooed triumphantly. \"You will note that the Ministry Surveillance Vehicle Variance Application, that\'s MSVVA, is properly notarized, and has all the necessary signatures, including Scrimgeour\'s.\" She smiled sweetly, wrinkling up her nose and giving her shoulders a flippant shrug.

\"Now I know an important Ministry official like you has more important things to do that inspect MSVVA\'s after midnight on a Saturday. What is it I can do for you, Perce?\" Tonks tilted her head slightly, and batted her eyes cloyingly.

Percy looked as if he had just swallowed a pellet of troll dung. \"Quite. The reason I am here is to inquire as to whether you have noticed any unusual activity in your patrol area over the last week, specifically in the areas surrounding Grimmauld Place and The Dragon\'s Lair. We have completed the installation of the upgraded security wards, and the new data we have collected indicates excessive magical activity at both locations.\"

Tonk\'s expression softened somewhat. \"No, nothing unusual. That is, nothing out of the ordinary for the circumstances. I do make regular rounds by Grimmauld Place for obvious reasons, and the Lair has always been a hot spot. Unfortunately, since I now have a twenty-five square mile territory to patrol, it is possible that I may have missed something. TSR, ya know.\"

\"Yes, I am aware of the TSR currently in place,\" he said flatly. Reaching inside his robes, he extracted a sheaf of parchments. \"Here are copies of the new data collected over the past week. I have highlighted the Apparition activity between Grimmauld Place and 156 Larchmere, as well as other castings in the same area and time frame.\" Percy passed the papers over to her.

Tonks glanced at them, and placed the entire stack on the dashboard. \"Anything else?\" her expression was unreadable.

\"That will be all for now. Please keep me informed if anything develops.\" Percy made to open his door. Tonks cleared her throat. He glanced back at her impatiently.

\"You\'re welcome,\" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. And Perce, the next time you want to pay a visit to a field operative on partol, you might want to consider changing into more appropriate clothing, yeah? Not very inconspicous running down the street in wizard\'s robes, is it?\" She adopted her sweetest smile, and batted her eyes again.

Percy wrenched open the door of the van, lunging outside. Giving it a solid slam, he glanced inside once more at Tonk\'s beaming face, and then stormed off down the street.

\"Bloody wanker,\" Tonks muttered as she started the VW and headed off in the direction of Grimmauld Place.

But he was sorta cute....in a wanker-ish kind of way...