The Liars Department -1-
tags: drarry, auror Harry, ministry employee Draco, oblivious Harry, dillusionment there so much disillisionment
sugessted rating: T+
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Harry watched the bloke fumble through the stack of trays on his desk. Eventually, he found the right form and set it in front of himself. Overhead a faulty lumos spell occasionally flickered, shifting the shadows on the stone walls that, unlike the rest of the Ministry had no windows, false or otherwise.
The desk auror patted around his desk for a quill, flipping up the mess of parchment in search of an elusive pen.
“I swear if Brewster stole my quill again,” The desk auror muttered, “You do a nice thing, lend ‘em out for the signing, and they just walk away with ‘em. Do I look like I’m made of quills?”
Harry fought down a yawn. Next to him, the two new junior aurors holding onto either side of the suspect, both standing impossible straight, trying very hard to look like they’d done this before. Harry had done it about a hundred times before and it was always entirely boring.
The desk auror opened drawer after drawer until finally pulling out a bedraggeled looking quill, “Got ya!”
He slid the form in front of Harry.
Harry didn’t ask for the quill, he had concerns about what it had been through, instead pulling out the fancy fountain pen Hermione had given him when he graduated from Junior Auror to regular Auror.
“I, Auror Harry Potter, do transfer this suspect to the custody of Auror…” Harry glanced at the name plaque sitting on the desk, “Smith.” He signed his name and pushed the parchment back to Smithson.
“Right you are, and I Auror Henry Smith, accept the suspect into the custody of the Ministry cells until such time as his trial or bail,” Smith said, signing the form with an wellpractised extravagant flourish. He grabbed a heavy wooden stamper, the rubber greying and faintly cracked with age, smacked it into a very sad looking ink pad and then thumped it onto the form. All formality seen to, the form folded itself up into a paper aeroplane and sailed off to the filing department.
Harry turned to his charges, the juniors straightening up even further so they were in real danger of italicising themselves. The suspect was wobbling slightly, still off-kilter from the effects of a stunning spell administered when he wouldn’t stop trying to bite the arresting auror, that being Harry, who rather wished he wasn’t at the time.
“Alright, you two help Auror Smith take the suspect to his new home for the time being,” Harry said.
“Sir! Uh, should we re-join you after we’ve- we’ve delivered him?” The brown-haired Junior asked. Harry thought her name might have started with K… but he wasn’t willing to risk a guess. He had no idea about the other one. Harry would just keep avoiding calling them anything until he heard someone use their names. It had worked so far with most of his other fellow aurors, in that he found he hadn’t really ever needed to use their names enough to learn them.
“No. Return to the office, and make sure you drop off your reports to Auror Shunter before the end of the day, or you’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Yes, sir, Mr Potter sir!” The junior said, looking about ready to salute him. Sometimes the muggleborns got it into their heads they ought to. This junior, thankfully, managed to hold back.
Harry gave him a polite, tight-lipped smile and a nod, leaving them to the waiting Smith and headed back to the apparition point.
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Harry tapping the auror badge affixed to his robes with his wand as he walked, turning the maroon half-robe into a London bobby uniform including the cap. He loathed the cap with every fibre of his being.
He apparated back to the scene of the incident, sheathing his wand and stepping out of the temporarily warded alleyway. Senior Auror Shunter was waiting in front of the shop where the incident occurred. It was a small narrow shop on a narrow street filled with other small business. The window of the place declared it Dickson’s Gold and Jewellery Exchange. The road itself was eerily quiet, the quick placements of muggle repelling charms and what looked like a swarm of police had convinced most of the other people working on the street to take the rest of the day off.
Two other junior aurors left as Harry approached, giving him a nod in acknowledgement as they passed, leaving only him and Auror Shunter.
“Auror Shunter, sir, suspect delivered to the holding cells for further questioning,” Harry said, stopping next to her on the pavement.
Senior Auror Shunter was one of the most senior of the senior aurors. Her hair, always pulled back into a simple, no-nonsense bun, was streaked with grey and her face was starting to wrinkle, but she radiated the same kind of youthful vitality that a fifteen-year-old bloke does right before he puts his fist through a wall. Harry had never actually seen Shunter lose her temper. He didn’t want to. He had a feeling it was the sort of thing you’d regret, a great deal.
Junior aurors were often passed around to whichever auror needed the most assistance, and Harry had ended up working under her quite a bit. He had been impatient with her at first, but he had come to admire her work. Shunter wasn’t flashy or impulsive. She always went into a situation with a cool head, and because of that, she resolved things with less destruction and less death and injury on both sides. Rumour was she never fudged evidence or lied either unlike one or two other senior aurors.
Harry was sure she would make an amazing Head Auror when Robards retired. He couldn’t think of anyone better suited for it.
Shunter sighed at him, “Took you long enough.”
“Desk Auror couldn’t find his quill,” Harry said.
“All aurors should carry a pen or ever-inking quill on their person at all times for taking statements and notes,” Shunter said more like a reflex than with any actual thinking involved.
“Yes, sir, I have my pen,” Harry said, patting his pocket.
Shunter raised an eyebrow, “Then why didn’t you lend it and get back here sooner?”
“Sorry, sir, I still wanted to have my pen afterwards,” Harry said, “The man accounts for half the department’s quill allowances.”
Shunter nodded, “Point made, unofficially.”
“Right,” Harry said.
“I’d wonder how Smith keeps his job, but he does a stellar job holding that desk down,” Shunter said.
Harry frowned in confusion.
“It’s hard to find a good desk jockey in the auror’s, we typically don’t join up for the paperwork,” Shunter said, “Course it’s easier now with that new interdepartmental transfer program.”
Harry nodded, “Orders, sir?”
“Got most of it wrapped up,” Shunter said looking over her shoulder at the shop, “Damage repaired, statements taken, suspect secured, all that’s left is waiting for the memory boys.”
Harry grimaced, “That’s where I come in.”
Shunter nodded with a tired grin, “I like a quick auror, Potter. It’s no wonder they ranked you so fast.”
Harry blinked, “Ranked me so-?”
“Oh, That’s right,” Shunter said distractedly, “They’re going to be sending the new department. From now on Obliviators are only to be sent for in cases of large scale magical misuse when there’s a large exposure.”
“Why?” Harry asked.
Shunter shrugged, “New policy, just got the memo. I’ll read up on all the changes when I’m off.”
“You read up on the new laws and policies during your time off?” Harry asked.
“Right before bed, nothing better for falling sleep than dull ministry stuff. I sleep like a baby,” Shunter said with a wry grin. She looked at her watch with a frown, “Bugger. Alright, Potter, you’re in charge of the scene. Our shopkeep is taking a nap behind the counter. Once the new department shows, you can get their paperwork, add it to ours and take down the wards. Got all that?” Shunter said, rolling her shoulders with new energy now that she was no longer the one who’d be babysitting an empty street.
“Yes, sir,” Harry said.
“Send for backup if there are any issues, though I can’t imagine it, and get your paperwork in by the end of the day,” Shunter said and turned on her heel, hurrying to the alley.
“Yes, sir,” Harry said.
It occurred to Harry far too late that he probably should have asked what the new department was called or who was in it, or even, perhaps, what they did.
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Once Shunter had apparated back to the ministry, Harry checked the wards along the perimeter before pulling a wad of blank mission report forms out of his pocket. He found the right one and shoved the rest back, holding the paper up against the window as he pulled the lid off his fountain pen with his teeth and quickly began filling it out.
Harry heard the car long before he realised it was coming up the street. It came up far too fast, and the tires squealed against the pavement as it slammed to a stop. He didn’t know much about cars, but he could tell this one reeked of money. It was a white two-seat convertible and looked like the sort of car you saw in magazines, not on the road.
The door swung open, and a man in a white suit stepped out, straightening his jacket and impeccable tie. He was tall and lean and had a dark blue shirt and black tie under the pure white of the suit jacket. He pulled off a pair of sunglasses, slipping them into his pocket, as the sun glinted off his white-blond head and he gave Harry a perfectly calculated smirk.
The pen cap went loose in Harry’s mouth, almost falling to the ground before he managed to clumsily catch it out of the air.
“Auror Potter. Of course,” Draco Malfoy said with a sigh of exasperation, “I should have expected you. I have that sort of luck after all.”
“Malfoy…?” Harry said.
“As opposed to?” Malfoy said, closing the door to his car and leaning his hip against it.
“Anyone else?” Harry said dumbfounded, “You’re the- the new department?”
“I am,” Malfoy said. He pulled a small notebook out of his breast pocket, “I might as well enjoy this while I can, I suppose.”
“Enjoy-? Have you- Do you know what you’re doing?” Harry asked suspiciously.
“No,” Malfoy said flatly. He flipped open the notebook, “According to the briefing I received this was a single muggle exposure, correct?”
“I-yeah,” Harry said.
“What happened?” Malfoy said
“I thought your wand was destroyed,” Harry said.
Malfoy blinked. “Not quite,” he said blandly, “I am not allowed to use magic or remove my wand from my place of residence.”
“Which isn’t here,” Harry said.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow, almost looking amused with him, “No. I do not, in fact, live in the middle of the street, Potter.”
“Which means you can’t use magic,” Harry said.
“Yes? Is there a point to this? I am here to work you know,” Malfoy said, sounding faintly amused.
Harry gestured back to the shop, “You can’t obliviate someone without a wand.”
“I’m not here to obliviate anyone,” Malfoy said with the same sort of tone someone would say obviously.
“Then why are you here?” Harry said, suspicion mixing with impatience.
“If you’ll assist me rather than interrogate me, I can show you,” Malfoy said. He pushed himself away from the car with an unfair amount of grace.
“I don’t see how you can do anything useful right now,” Harry said.
Malfoy’s smile grew, “Ah, you sound like father. Delightful.”
Harry stared, taken aback.
Malfoy just chuckled and headed into the shop.
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♥ Next update will be friday 7-8 am ♥ I’ve been craving writing something light and funny for a while, I hope you like it ♥
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