after midnight
notaverygeâ:
ââNo, but I can think this through logically,ââ Lara began, not even registering who was talking to her, staring blankly at the floor as her thoughts tried desperately to arrange. ââEvery auror in the room is missing. If this is a flagrante delicto, and the aurors managed to somehow take so many people fighting against the Ministry all at once to the auror stationâŚââ Her pulse was explosive by this moment. It was a case scenario she couldnât afford to consider. Lara quickly searched around for clues to disarm that option. ââNo, this isnât auror work. Unofficially maybe, but they arenât allowed anything without prior explanation.ââ
The perfect treasure hunt for her mind, and she only felt overwhelmed with concern and fear. She couldnât focus properly. ââThey didnât apparate. It had to be a portkey. But what united them through a common portkey while still separating the crowd in half?ââ She couldnât quite put her finger on it, but theyâve been targeted without the slightest doubt. The people whose absence was the loudest were solid vanished proof of it being organized. ââI donât know who would have done this. Jonathan wouldnât.ââ She knew it. Not without a word on it beforehand to prepare people. Allard couldnât have known he was going to disappear. He would have hinted it, at least, if that were the case. Her logic was based on trust and instincts, but she knew it couldnât be otherwise. ââSomeone arranged for certain people to disappear. Letâs think it through simply. Why? The⌠people from Mayte, Jonathan Marks, Mia Selwyn and their people and⌠the auror department featuring the Weasleys.ââ It was suddenly crystal clear. ââTheyâre battling. It has to either be that or be a bigger accord only for the inner circle,ââ she made a face, not accepting the thought that she wouldnât be involved on one side or the other. If anything, she had to be involved twice. ââNo, itâs simple. Theyâre battling. No oneâs signing peace treaties under the table. Important Ministry people are still here and as clueless as us. They have to be battling. They gathered known supporters of all causes and theyâre sorting it out through violence. Or, I suppose, someone is kidnapping the others. Thatâs fashionable too these days, it seems.ââ
The only thing worse than violence was her being away, not knowing what was happening as they were talking. She chugged the rest of her champagne glass in a gulp. ââPress excluded, apparently. Sorry,ââ she shrugged helplessly, throwing himself on a chair at the table in front of them, while people were evacuating quickly. She didnât care to go home to an empty house or at the safety cottage, waiting for Allard. Not yet. She would wait later, but not now, when she felt so restless. She had to calm down, as people were getting increasingly hysterical. ââSomeone really needs to tell them to stop this,ââ she commented bitterly, looking at people finding each other and observing how the atmosphere was reeking of fake adrenaline.
Garrett was itching to take out his pen and paper and jot down every single word that came out of her mouth as she seemed to be piecing things together. He didnât interrupt at all, though he was bouncing on his toes and had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting out questions like âHow well do you know Jon Marks?â and âHave you ever seen Aurors act without permission?â
Unintentionally, there was a visible face twitch when she mentioned Maytes but he was so obviously agitated he hoped it wouldnât draw much attention. His fingers fidgeted and he needed to write this down, but he couldnât. Finally, unable to keep silent and still any longer, a question shot out of his mouth as his white-knuckled hands suddenly unclasped. âCertainly battling, then? Where?â He was prepared to believe her speculation as truth. He knew the Maytes had nothing planned, but he didnât doubt someone would try to turn this on them.
The only Mayte he had seen still present after the vanishings was not one that could ease his worries.Â
Garrett followed Laraâs gaze to look at the others that seemed to be increasingly frantic. Any minute he was waiting for someone to scream. How he wished there was a Prophet photographer there, and without shame or regret, he pulled his pen and paper from his pocket to start hastily scribbling down a description of the scene. He didnât make any notes about what Laraâs speculations, but it was burned into his brain and he knew itâd rattle around at the back of his mind when he wrote this article. He could already see some Ministry members spot him and they started to approach, apparently eager to make a statement about the chaos and disappearances now that theyâd consulted each other.
Looking back at Lara, Garrett really wished there was a camera there to capture her - sitting down, thinking, as chaos started to rise around them. It wasnât attention-grabbing enough to make a front page or even the paper, but it was the type of photograph that went into history books. âYouâre someone,â he pointed out.Â
