The Ambiguous Plot Revealed!
So Cecily and the British Auror team are currently investigating the allegation that has been disclosed to them that there is deception within the Ministry. Without mentioning who or how many he thought to be at large, the Source also neglected to include what he believed their goal to be. It is possible that the simple fact of their existence is the extent of his knowledge, as is the notion that he could have been tongue-tied by a Fidelity Charm. Despite the skepticism that is inspired by the lack of information, the Auror office decided it was worth looking into. Why not.
As it turns out, the rumor is true. The handful of operatives pooling in the heart of the Ministry of Magic are under direct orders from the Minister himself, but they’ve seen to it that they go undetected. For the most part. The key aspect of their mission is to be invisible. No one is to know who they are, what they are doing, who they are doing it for, and why. If word gets out that the Minister for Magic is orchestrating a massive criminal organisation, war will break out absolutely.
These Minister-controlled henchmen are, in fact, assassins that he’s hand-picked for his mission of eliminating all known Squibs “under the radar”. It was one of Aldric’s first actions when he took office a few years earlier.
Compared to the recent months, their presence used to be almost entirely unnoticeable. They were as subdued and stealthy as they’d ever be. They operated with a foolproof plan; They’d preyed on the sick. When good fortune found them, the name of a registered Squib would appear in the St. Mungo’s record department as being admitted. They acted quickly and quietly. It was just so simple. All they had to do was see to it that the patient never recovered from their illness, no matter how curable it may be. One boy goes in to have a set of Horklump needles removed from his arm, and one week later he dies of what the Healers called an “unidentifiable virus likely caused by infection”. Not to blame the Healers. They didn’t know any better. Confundus and the Imperius Curse were among the team’s favorite incantations.
They had even widened the search, giddy with the thrill of it, and documented the names of all known Squibs. Were the sound of any one name to befall somebody’s lips, they would be alerted and dispatched to the speaker’s location within the minute. Despite not being one hundred percent successful, it did prove to boost their numbers overall. In a year they’d compiled a stack of Squib bodies twenty high, because it was easy. That was how they found Maisie Kemp.
Rory’s younger sister was admitted to the local hospital with a minor fracture in her wrist that had resulted from her falling out of a tree. Aldric’s men had learned of the little girl’s existence prior to the incident, but were biding their time. When it came, they infiltrated the Muggle hospital, entranced all of the staff, and convinced the parents that their daughter had that pesty Leukemia. It took nearly a year of patience, discretion, and small doses of Lobalug venom to get the job done. As far as anybody knows Maisie Kemp was just another victim of cancer.
The same method of location was used to detect Edith Morgan’s family, all of whom were subsequently tortured and executed. Almost all of them. To date Edith is the only Squib to have escaped from the Minister’s henchmen alive, though she did so just barely. By happenstance the decision to change her name to Wednesday Addams gave her the protection nothing else could offer. Since then Edith Morgan has been listed as top priority, though that name won’t ever be spoken again.
After their first failure, Minister Aldric restricted his team’s resources. He was furious that they had been careless enough to let one get away—an eighteen-year-old girl nonetheless. It would be the end of him if she had somehow pieced it all together. He would spend the rest of his life in Azkaban Prison because these four idiots got sloppy and played with their food.
In fact, somebody did piece it all together. It just wasn’t Edith. His name and face aren’t important, and he’s probably glad to keep it that way—the Source. It’s suspected that he was in contact with Edith’s mother, Amelia Morgan, sometime between her initial escape and her imminent execution. She may have reached out to the man for help with her targeted daughter, but this is merely speculation, not fact.
At the first hints of the rumors, the Minister all but retired his crusade. They went a full year without pursuing a single lead, and the hallways of the Ministry grew quiet once more. Then came the Lestrange scandal.
It was widely publicized throughout the wizarding world that Alina and Rabastan Lestrange’s son was a magicless Squib. Amidst the drama of the exposure were the synchronized headlines accusing Rabastan of murdering two young girls, one being his own daughter. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. The four hitmen acted of their own accord, pinpointing Lino to be residing in some type of gypsy camp deep in the Forbidden Forest. Too perfect. Despite the amount of attention surrounding to the boy they hunted, they hunted him all the same. Perhaps to get back in their boss’s good graces? Or maybe to fulfill a new hunger within themselves. It was risky, but their plan was to pin the boy’s death on his father—claim it to have been an arrangement made by Rabastan just before he was shipped off to Azkaban.
However it would seem that they jumped into action with just enough haste to draw attention from the man who suspected them—the Source. He’d been waiting and watching them from afar the entire year long in anticipation of this precise moment. That was when he alerted the Auror Department, and Cecily became involved. Although there was no lead as to where the men had stalked their prey, she was assigned to the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade area. Aside from the handful of shady characters who lurked in the alleyways of the village, Cecily could find no real sign of any so-called assassins. Of course her default conclusion was that they had traveled to a different location, and one of the British Aurors would soon discover them instead.
On the contrary, Cecily’s level of stealth was not yet able to match that of the team, which was comprised of trained soldiers. She wasn’t even an Auror herself; The only reason Cecily was in Great Britain was for her to observe, not play this game of cat and mouse that she’d somehow gotten entangled in. The tables had been turned on her. The men quickly became aware that they had been followed there, and chose to postpone their prior engagement to focus on their tail. They observed her. She was young—not a child, but young enough to be just the right amount of naive. Her detective methods were mediocre, seeing as she was oblivious to their close proximity. Mostly she just socialized with the students of Hogwarts. Actually, she seemed quite boring to them, not worth the concern. However their perspective changed completely on the day that one of the men approached her.
The encounter was a moderately civil one… at first. He introduced himself to her as Adderly. She said her name was Cecily. “That’s an interesting accent you’ve got,” he told her amiably; to which she laughed and informed him, “It’s a sort of weird mix between Welsh and Norwegian. Sometimes people have trouble understanding me because of it.” Rather than continue their small talk, the man who claimed to be Adderly immediately confessed in hushed tones, “I know who you are. I’m the person you’ve been searching for.”
Cecily’s first instinct was to incapacitate him. Fearlessly naive, without so much as a second of hesitation, she took a jab at the man’s throat. Of course Adderly deflected the quick attack, hardly impressed, though he would be as their altercation developed. Welsh-Norwegian Cecily actually proved to be something of a challenge for him to combat with. Who he had anticipated to be the equivalent of a little girl playing grown-up turned out instead to be the equivalent of Jackie Chan. Sweat was beading along his hairline, veins pulsing in his temples. And as he stood across from this ferocious young woman panting, it occurred to him. Adderly’s hand disappeared into his robes, and before Cecily could extract her own wand, the man had his pointed straight at her.
Dark magic was a strong suit for both of them, but only if they were equally matched. And they were not. Cecily was knocked unconscious there in the alley between Gladrags and Scrivenshaft’s. The last thing she would remember was noticing the smear of blood across the window of the latter shop.
Adderly then returned to his team with their pursuer thrown over his shoulder. After recounting his fight with her, they all agreed upon the best plan of action. It was perfect. She could do all the work for them, eliminating the threat of direct exposure and the threat of casualty among them; Plus she knew most of the people around here. She may even know the whereabouts of Lino Lestrange. Just the whisper of Imperio… and she would be subject to any and all suggestions they had for her. It was perfect.
So Cecily became something of a robot, an assassin with only one thought in mind, which was to find and kill that charming boy she’d met only once before, plus any other Squibs she may also find in the camp. She was lethal, merciless. She was instructed to forget everything that had happened in her life up to that point. Names and faces and memories of Jack Deschamp, Lana Prewett, Kai Alohilani, Spencer Lahey… disappeared. If necessary, she would kill any one of them if they became an interference, and she’d feel no remorse.
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