Alastor sighed, walking quickly towards his office. He got official word earlier in the day that he had gotten the Head Auror position. That meant meetings, meetings that were making him run late to the fundraiser that he was explicitly told to be at. His current task was supposed to be a simple one: Go to headquarters, drop some files off on his desk to be looked over in the morning, head straight to the ball. But, nothing ever end up being simple and as he opened the door to his office he immediately noticed something askew. Things had been moved around and while interns and other personnel sometimes had to come in his office, he could sense something was off. His eyes landed on a piece of parchment that he was sure hadn't been on his desk before. He reached for it, eyes widening as he scanned the message;
Certain members of a pureblood idealist group are planning to poison the champagne at the fundraiser. They are working under orders from the self-proclaimed, ‘Dark Lord’. I hope you get this message in time to stop it.
Panic coursed through his veins. It could be an idle threat, but he suspected it wasn't. Whomever had sent it didn't realize he would stuck in meetings before he went to the fundraiser. Plus, something deep within him told him he was not having a prank pulled on him. He quickly cast a patronus, placing a messenger spell on it to be sent directly to St. Mungo's. "Possible mass poisoning. Send as many healers and antidotes as you can spare." He closed his eyes, focusing on the destination he was supposed to have been at.
Pop.
The warning had not been a prank. Screams filled Alastor's ears as soon as he apparated into the ball. People were running around, some were lying on the ground, sounds of choking escaped from others.
Someone had indeed poisoned guests at the ball.